Despite the tone of ambivalence that haunts Tony Smith’s famous account of driving at night on a then-unfinished section of the New Jersey Turnpike, its citation in Michael Fried’s “Art and Objecthood” (1967) serves a strict rhetorical purpose. Fried turns Smith’s concluding words—less a suggestion of what remains to be done than what may no longer be done—on the innate superiority of such an experience, at once everyday and overwhelming, on their head. To Fried, the fact that “there is no way you can frame it, you just have to experience it,” as smith says, means precisely that it lies outside the categorical boundaries of art. Fried is, of course, arguing against what he sees as the “literalism” of Minimalist sculpture, an “inartistic” quality that heralds the inevitable return of the found object under Conceptualism. Joseph Kosuth could be responding directly to both smith and fried

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