Dancing Naked in Public

No one ever heard of me, should I care? And I’m not even a painter, I’m a writer and film maker, sometimes. Technophobe too, this is all screwed up, I don’t know what to do. Visit my youtube channel and from there my blog, its more substantial. I am an old neophyte, I don’t bite. Goodnight, Tich Ennis

Longreads

Cody Delistraty | Longreads | September 2016 | 16 minutes (4,104 words)

If the contemporary art world seems like a place of pretension, status-seeking, and giant checks being paid through Larry Gagosian and David Zwirner, then it’s the critic Jerry Saltz who may be the last hope of bringing us all back down to earth. As Saltz once wrote: although contemporary art may not be of everyone’s taste, it’s still for everyone.

Born in Oak Park, Illinois, Saltz went to the Chicago Art Institute wanting to be a painter but dropped out; he soon became a long-distance truck driver, but after a decade of driving, he decided life couldn’t get any worse and that he might as well go back to his truest passion. So in the early-1980s, with no formal degree, he moved to New York and entered the art criticism scene, writing mostly for the Village Voice

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