The wonderful thing about a blog, as opposed to a magazine article, is that it's
infinitely editable--which is great for those of us afflicted with lingual
OCD. This aspect would have appealed to that most meticulous of artists,
Myron Stout, who died in 1987 and whose show at
Washburn (up until June 29
th) I'm preparing to review. Someone once told me that Stout sneaked a pencil into the Whitney and a guard caught him embellishing one of the drawings in his own retrospective. Even if the story is apocryphal, it describes Stout perfectly, and you've got to admire any artist who cares that much.
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