New York

Kate Millett

Noho Gallery

Kate Millett’s “The Trial of Sylvia Likens” wasn’t the kind of exhibition you expect to see in Soho, Noho, P.S. 1 or in any other New York art context. You didn’t just slip into it. It was clear, inelegant and meaty, and conveyed heavy personal feelings. It twisted your head around, and that appealed to me. Of course, for anyone used to confrontations with Minimal art it would be easy to hate the show for the way it played to the many, for the footprints on the floor telling you where to go, the taped narration, the scrawl on the walls, even the coverage in the Voice. Art, thank god, has gotten away from this. But the reaction I describe is perhaps a way of seeing things in the dark, symptomatic of art that has become pretty tight in its own definition. In other contexts I know, in certain cities in Germany or perhaps in France, one kind of art doesn’t preclude the other. And here, is

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