and we see spider silk and standards of ravishing frivolity corrupt an audience with pleasure. rubber flowers, reflective glass and carnival acts objectify variously as beautiful manners, bluster inseparable from fury. the overall air of strangeness extraordinarily fluid inspired by illumination create nonsense really intensely, but kind of unreadable: jar of fox bones or something similar.
(The New Yorker, May 7, 2012)
(The New Yorker, May 7, 2012)