Please activate JavaScript!
Please install Adobe Flash Player, click here for download
ePaper created 2013-10-09, 06:36:00 | version 1.25.20
3 We have him saying: “J’ai montré la chose à des amis en leur disant que le proverbe ‘Il faut qu’une porte soit ouverte ou fermée’ se trouvait ainsi pris en flagrant délit d’inexactitude.” Instead of paintings, subject pinned linoleum chessboards to the walls, using medals and decorations for the pieces. When playing a chess game, sketch in air the engine that will win or lose. A pin against the king is absolute where pinned pieces cannot legally move, or expose the king to check. He left a coded note: “Se raser les yeux fermés dans son bain. Vérifier la lisseur avec les doigts. Pas de miroir.” Did he make some windows fresh, and others not? All this leaves us unsure what room remains, and we fear our communications are checkmate, busted out, even cold. O, how we long for the quaint uncertainty of a bridge. Mingled and impure, there’s nothing more vertiginous than a choke-point of architecture, aka “the good old days.” We may have to make a brush pass, full of hair, but here, an object goes missing right before our eyes. One second we’re sure of it, next it’s “art.” Magicians make things disappear through misdirection, too: what an eye follows, a brain misses, the rabbit escapes from a hat; rabbit, mole, ants,