PRINT Summer 1987


Mazel tov.

How many artists get a chance? How many today can afford a loft downtown (I’m not talking buying, just rental)? How many get a group show, let alone a gallery? How many ever get noticed?

So what if Rex, our protagonist of these ten months, hit a roadblock or a hundred; so what if his paintings had been frozen in a Siberia of legalisms—didn’t his work get seen, get hated and loved while the works of countless fellow artists stayed racked in their studios, dying for someone to look at them? Measured by the experience of most artists, Rex has indeed been fortunate. It would seem he had an open road ahead of him, though who can predict in life and in art what lies ahead? For the moment, let’s say that Rex’s victory is that he is still here, that he has managed still to be around in the land of high risks. It would be a good moment to take leave of him, right now when his chart is still unfixed,

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