PRINT April 1988



WHEN I FURNISH MY dream house, I have the exhilarating choice from all styles: Assyrian to Egyptian, Renaissance to Neoclassical, floral to Cubist, or a combination of elements from all these and others.

And when you visit my dream house, how can you say whether it is beautiful or ugly? You can pronounce your judgment, but certainly you will not be judging my house; you will be judging my taste.

Taste, however, is a feeling—a personal, intimate, and instinctive quality. It is a way for me to express my fantasies, my imagination, my memories. That’s why I can love something you find extremely ugly, and your esthetic theories cannot convince me that I shouldn’t.

The fact that taste is subjective is a good thing. The exercise of taste coincides with the increasing liberalization of a fundamental right: that of individual expression of beauty.

“Beautiful,” in this case, is that which I like;

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