Michelle Marder Kamhi's "Who Says That's Art?"

[9thdoctor]

When I saw it I mostly marveled at the size of it, but I'm not religious so it wasn't going to affect me as "intended".

Even without the "outside considerations" of the specific textual religious influence and artistic intentions, one can see and experience great forces and dangers in the image, no?

Sure. And "When in Rome" it's a good idea to unleash your inner Catholic, if you have one. To better experience everything. In the case of the Sistine Chapel, fact is when I went there, because of the time of day or whatever (overcast sky outside), the light wasn't so good, plus it was very crowded. A dominant memory I have is seeing a walking cliché, a Japanese tourist dwarfed by a giant camera, confronted by a furiously gesticulating guard who shouted at him: one more peeekchure, you outside!.

A reader of a book is safe, regardless of how the book's content makes her feel.

You're effectively saying that all art is experienced from a position of safety, even when the creator's intention is to subvert that aspect of it. Ok, fine.

[9thdoctor]

And, on my current reading list, I am actually going through Wallace's Infinite Jest. Since the 12-step program is one of the elements in that long-ass book, I, who went through the 12-step program twice (for both alcohol and drugs), can't not read it.

Cool. Don't forget to celebrate Interdependence Day this Sunday (November 8). I suggest a reading marathon. Or if not, an orgy of passive spectation. And no, the Organization of North American Nations (O.N.A.N.) does not condone celebrating this holiday ONANistically. Nyuck-nyuck-nyuck.

Here's a snippet I make a bee-line for whenever I pick it up again. It's like a Road Runner cartoon translated into the most lapidary prose (yeah, lapidary was one of DFWs favorite words, now I'm channeling him).

Workmans Accident Claims Office State Farm Insurance 1 State Farm Plaza Normal, III. 617062262/6

Dear Sir:

I am writing in response to your request for additional information. In block #3 of the accident reporting form, I put "trying to do the job alone", as the cause of my accident. You said in your letter that I should explain more fully and I trust that the following details will be sufficient.

I am a bricklayer by trade. On the day of the accident, March 27, I was working alone on the roof of a new six story building. When I completed my work, I discovered that I had about 900 kg. of brick left over. Rather than laboriously carry the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in a barrel by using a pulley which fortunately was attached to the side of the building at the sixth floor. Securing the rope at ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out and loaded the brick into it. Then I went back to the ground and untied the rope, holding it tightly to insure a slow descent of the 900 kg of bricks. You will note in block #11 of the accident reporting form that I weigh 75 kg.

Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I proceeded at a rapid rate up the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor I met the barrel coming down. This explains the fractured skull and the broken collar bone.

Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulleys. Fortunately, by this time, I had regained my presence of mind, and was able to hold tightly to the rope in spite of considerable pain. At approximately the same time, however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground and the bottom fell out of the barrel from the force of hitting the ground.

Devoid of the weight of the bricks, the barrel now weighed approximately 30 kg. I refer you again to my weight of 75 kg in block #11. As you could imagine, still holding the rope, I began a rather rapid descent from the pulley down the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured ankles and the laceration of my legs and lower body.

The encounter with the barrel slowed me enough to lessen my impact with the brick-strewn ground below. I am sorry to report, however, that as I lay there on the bricks in considerable pain, unable to stand or move and watching the empty barrel six stories above me, I again lost my presence of mind and unfortunately let go of the rope, causing the barrel to begin a

endtrans

But what bricklayer can write like that!

[Jonathan]

One simple cinematic effect that almost always makes me experience the Sublime -- the magnitude/sense of fear along with exhilaration...

Jonathan,

Would this qualify?

Michael

Well, I've been to one world fair, a picnic, and a rodeo, and that's the most sublime thing I ever did see.

J

[9thdoctor]

Don't forget to celebrate Interdependence Day this Sunday (November 8).

End of the Tour is available for rental now. It's worthwile, imagine My Dinner with André with DFW in the André role.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_End_of_the_Tour

[Wolf DeVoon]

This author, David Foster Wallace, is considered by lots of literary experts as one of the best postmodern authors of his generation (Gen X). He has an incredible capacity for observation, for bringing mundane things to conscious awareness and analyzing them with such genuine curiosity, he gets you interested in them. And I believe this is the correct way one should introspect about life. In fact, this is reflective of my idea of cognitive before normative reasoning.

I could talk about Wallace all day long

Wallace, huh? I think you've taken leave of your senses, willingly.

The plot partially revolves around the missing master copy of a film cartridge, titled Infinite Jest and referred to in the novel as "the Entertainment" or "the samizdat". The film, so entertaining to its viewers that they lose all interest in anything other than viewing it and thus eventually die, was James O. Incandenza's final work. He completed it during a stint of sobriety requested by its lead actress, Joelle Van Dyne. Quebecois separatists are interested in acquiring a master, redistributable copy of the work to aid in acts of terrorism against the United States. The United States Office of Unspecified Services (U.S.O.U.S.) is seeking to intercept the master copy to prevent mass dissemination and the destabilization of the Organization of North American Nations. Joelle seeks treatment for substance abuse problems at Ennet House Drug and Alcohol Recovery House, and Marathe visits the rehabilitation center to pursue a lead on the master copy of the Entertainment, tying the characters and plots together...

Hal Incandenza is the youngest of the Incandenza children and arguably the novel's protagonist, as its events revolve around his time at ETA. Hal is prodigiously intelligent and talented, but insecure about his abilities (and eventually his mental state). He has difficult relationships with both his parents. He has an eidetic memory and has memorized the Oxford English Dictionary, and like his mother often corrects his friends' and family's grammar. Hal's mental degradation and alienation from those around him culminate in his chronologically last appearance in the novel, in which his attempts at speech are incomprehensible to others. The origin of Hal's final condition is unclear; possible causes include marijuana withdrawal, a drug obtained by Michael Pemulis, a patch of mold Hal ate as a child, and a mental breakdown from years of training to be a top junior tennis player.

James Orin Incandenza, Jr., an optics expert and filmmaker, is the founder of the Enfield Tennis Academy. The son of small-time actor James O. Incandenza, Sr. (who played "The Man from Glad" in the 1960s), he created Infinite Jest (also known as "the Entertainment" or "the samizdat"), an enigmatic and fatally seductive film that was his last work. He used Joelle Van Dyne, his son Orin's strikingly beautiful girlfriend, in many of his films, including the fatal Entertainment. He appears in the book mainly either in flashbacks or as a "wraith", having committed suicide by placing his head in a microwave oven. He is an alcoholic who drinks Wild Turkey whiskey. His nickname in the family is "Himself". Orin also calls him "the Mad Stork" or (once) "the Sad Stork".

Mario Incandenza is the Incandenzas' second son, although his biological father may be Charles Tavis. Severely deformed since birth – he is macrocephalic, homodontic, bradykinetic, and stands or walks at a 45-degree angle – he is nonetheless perennially cheerful. He is also a budding auteur, having served as James's camera and directorial assistant and later inheriting the prodigious studio equipment and film lab his father built on the Academy grounds. Somewhat surprisingly, he is an avid fan of Madame Psychosis's dark radio show. Hal, though younger, acts like a supportive older brother to Mario, whom Hal calls "Booboo"...

Ortho "The Darkness" Stice, another of Hal's close friends. His name consists of the Greek root ortho ("straight") and the anglicized suffix -stice ("a space") from the noun interstice, which originally derived from the Latin verb sistere ("to stand"). He endorses only brands that have black-colored products, and is at all times clothed entirely in black, hence his nickname. Late in the book Stice nearly defeats Hal in a three-set tennis match, shortly after which his forehead is frozen to a window and his bed appears either bolted or mysteriously levitated to the ceiling. There are indications that Stice is being visited by the ghost of James Incandenza...

Don Gately, a former thief and Demerol addict, and current counselor in residence at Ennet House. One of the novel's primary characters, Gately is physically enormous and a reluctant but dedicated Alcoholics Anonymous member. He is critically wounded in an altercation with several Canadian men, and much of the later part of the novel involves his inner monologue while he recuperates in a Boston hospital. During his middle-school and high-school years, Gately's size made him a formidable football talent. During his period as an addict and burglar, he accidentally kills M. DuPlessis, a leader of one of the many separatist Québécois organizations featured in the novel. Gately is visited by the ghost of James O. Incandenza.

[Wikipedia]

[9thdoctor]

Wallace, huh? I think you've taken leave of your senses, willingly.

Wow, a trenchant cut and paste from Wikipedia. QED. Counter that, if you can.

You've read which works by the author is question? How about a general idea of what you disapprove of?

[Michael Stuart Kelly]

Wolf,

Wallace, to me, is like a fast food intellectual snack.

He has a point that modern folks are addicted to the entertainment fed to them and they form their souls around it. (He doesn't use those words, but that is the message I have gotten so far.)

I like Wallace's quirky lampooning of this, although, I agree with him when he lamented, in several of the videos I have seen so far, that he does not find this mirthful, but sad.

However, I think a part of him liked being the life of the "serious literature" party. We all like it when others laugh at our jokes.

Michael

[Wolf DeVoon]

I think a part of him liked being the life of the "serious literature" party. We all like it when others laugh at our jokes.

That's why he killed himself? I don't get it. Vonnegut, Adams, Heller -- life is one big bad joke.

[Michael Stuart Kelly]

I think a part of him liked being the life of the "serious literature" party. We all like it when others laugh at our jokes.

That's why he killed himself? I don't get it. Vonnegut, Adams, Heller -- life is one big bad joke.

Wolf,

No. In addition to the mental illness and chemical stuff, I think Wallace only had questions, not answers, and he blamed himself. (This is my opinion, not the traditional wisdom from his admirers and critics.)

In his Kenyon College 2005 commencement speech, "This is Water" (the video is around here somewhere), he provides a clue (my bold):

There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship--be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles--is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive.

If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It's the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you. On one level, we all know this stuff already. It's been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, epigrams, parables; the skeleton of every great story. The whole trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness.

Worship power, you will end up feeling weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to numb you to your own fear. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart, you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out.

But the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they're evil or sinful, it's that they're unconscious. They are default settings.

Carol Dweck (a Stanford psychologist and professor I like a lot) has proven the enormous difference a fixed mindset as opposed to a growth mindset makes on anxiety.

And here's the truth. He who worships something about himself has stopped growing in that thing. So it becomes fixed in his mind. (Not just a "he" either. This holds for any "she" who qualifies--for the ladies who might feel slighted. ) There are many names for this, vanity, believing your own bullshit, fake it 'till you make it, guru syndrome, and so on.

If you go through Wallace's online interviews, he is always stopping to ask if he made sense. Especially after he said something simple, penetrating and deep. In every case I have seen so far, I got the feeling he was not in the role of a person seeking enlightenment and sharing what he found, but, instead, one who is doling out pearls of wisdom to the unenlightened, but inwardly doubting whether they are pearls and whether the person in front of him really is unenlightened. (He doesn't look people in the eye, he makes nervous gestures at this moment, etc.)

I think he worshipped his intellect, especially since he got so much attention for it so early in life. It became, like he said, his default position. And it became a fixed mindset he couldn't live up to.

To paraphrase him, I think he got eaten alive by it.

Still, in Wallace's stuff I have read and seen so far, his quirky sense of observation is wickedly spot on. I enjoy it. (Maybe I'm evil with a poor sense of life. )

Michael

[Jonathan]

Wallace, huh? I think you've taken leave of your senses, willingly.

Wow, a trenchant cut and paste from Wikipedia. QED. Counter that, if you can.You've read which works by the author is question? How about a general idea of what you disapprove of?

WolfAlan is a typical Rand-follower when it comes to art: He doesn't feel that he needs to actually read a novel or see a film in order to look down his highly cultured nose at it. If you'll recall, he gave his judgment of one of the Atlas Shrugged movies without having seen it. Envy. Jealousy of his betters.

J

[9thdoctor]

Wallace, to me, is like a fast food intellectual snack.

Stick with it. Wallace was no light-weight. Have fun.

You must check out his nonfiction. In my case I read between 50-100 pages of IJ when he was still alive and it didn't click. Very soon after he died I tried either Consider the Lobster or A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again. And before long I'd devoured everything. Except his first novel, I still haven't gotten to that. BTW the This is Water metaphor is in IJ too. His only reference to Rand (that I'm aware of) is in E Unibus Pluram, which you'll find in A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again. It's positive, though maybe a little peculiar. I've mentioned the McCain thing before, and I think you should make a bee-line for that one since you're into following Presidential campaigns. Its called Up, Simba, and is in Consider the Lobster. It was reissued as a standalone audiobook in 2008.

http://www.audible.com/pd/Bios-Memoirs/McCains-Promise-Audiobook/B002V8MV4M/ref=a_search_c4_1_19_srTtl?qid=1447021071&sr=1-19

The 12 Monkeys, the Shrub...high-proof distilled hilarity alongside some damn insightful anthropology.

[9thdoctor]

If you go through Wallace's online interviews, he is always stopping to ask if he made sense. Especially after he said something simple, penetrating and deep. In every case I have seen so far, I got the feeling he was not in the role of a person seeking enlightenment and sharing what he found, but, instead, one who is doling out pearls of wisdom to the unenlightened, but inwardly doubting whether they are pearls and whether the person in front of him really is unenlightened. (He doesn't look people in the eye, he makes nervous gestures at this moment, etc.)

Watch David Kelley doing a Q&A. Not a prepared talk. Pretty similar to DFW, I say. It's a personality thing, a variable. Neither would be any good in a Presidential debate, that's for sure. They're really thinking about the question, ready to rethink the issue live and in real time. And it comes across...not so well!

I think you're going to revise a lot of your opinions once you've done more reading of his stuff.

[9thdoctor]

Wallace, huh? I think you've taken leave of your senses, willingly.

Wow, a trenchant cut and paste from Wikipedia. QED. Counter that, if you can.You've read which works by the author is question? How about a general idea of what you disapprove of?

WolfAlan is a typical Rand-follower when it comes to art: He doesn't feel that he needs to actually read a novel or see a film in order to look down his highly cultured nose at it. If you'll recall, he gave his judgment of one of the Atlas Shrugged movies without having seen it. Envy. Jealousy of his betters.

J

I've encountered plenty of instances of the type. Typical? I don't know. But there's too many of them. Are you sure he's not Phil in disguise? Maybe Phil is the ultimate sock-Puppet Master. Or maybe Phil is a sockpuppet himself, and there's an Ellsworth Toohey grade villain working full time to dumb down the discourse wherever rational discussions are in danger of breaking out.

Shit, as soon as I typed that, a window popped up on my screen with a warning, something about being sent to Room 101. I managed to do a quick reverse-tunnel and snap a picture of the sender:

Apparently his real name is O'Brien.

[Wolf DeVoon]

I don't know, Michael. I don't get it. Convoluted bluff or angst or whatever. Nothing to envy, obviously.

Jonathan, you ditz, re Atlas films I quoted reviews and box office. Try to get your facts straight.

[9thdoctor]

There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship--be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles--is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive.

If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It's the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you. On one level, we all know this stuff already. It's been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, epigrams, parables; the skeleton of every great story. The whole trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness.

Worship power, you will end up feeling weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to numb you to your own fear. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart, you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out.

But the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they're evil or sinful, it's that they're unconscious. They are default settings.

There's a mistranscription in there. Substitute "plant" for "grieve".

Is there necessarily a flaw in an author's ideas if they commit suicide? Something that needs explaining? Hemingway, Woolf, Plath, Koestler? Zeno?? Koestler seems the closest match for Wallace's case, IMO. He was in serious pain and had no hope (rightly or wrongly) for a recovery. And I do mean physical pain, not just some mental thing.

[moralist]

Jonathan writes:

Only God had the power to damn others to hell.

Only you have the power to damn yourself to hell by your own behavior, Jonathan.

God just made the law which allows you the freedom to choose to do it to yourself.

Only stupid people blame (unjustly accuse) God for the consequences of their own actions.

Greg

[Jonathan]

I don't know, Michael. I don't get it. Convoluted bluff or angst or whatever. Nothing to envy, obviously.

Jonathan, you ditz, re Atlas films I quoted reviews and box office. Try to get your facts straight.

Yes, that's what I said. You offered up your opinion of the film without having seen it. You read reviews which took the position that you wanted to take. And the cherry on top was that you declared that you would have done a much better job on the Atlas projects! Heh.

J

[Jonathan]

Jonathan writes:

Only God had the power to damn others to hell.

Only you have the power to damn yourself to hell by your own behavior, Jonathan.

God just made the law which allows you the freedom to choose to do it to yourself.

Only stupid people blame (unjustly accuse) God for the consequences of their own actions.

Greg

No one has "blamed" God.

Anyway, you seem to be saying that God is not involved in any way in people being sent to hell. So, what happens? They just go there automatically by some means that God did not establish?

Aside from the moronic distraction, my original point stands. The point was that Michelangelo could not send others to hell. He did not have that power.

J

[Jonathan]

Wallace, huh? I think you've taken leave of your senses, willingly.

Wow, a trenchant cut and paste from Wikipedia. QED. Counter that, if you can.You've read which works by the author is question? How about a general idea of what you disapprove of?

WolfAlan is a typical Rand-follower when it comes to art: He doesn't feel that he needs to actually read a novel or see a film in order to look down his highly cultured nose at it. If you'll recall, he gave his judgment of one of the Atlas Shrugged movies without having seen it. Envy. Jealousy of his betters.

J

I've encountered plenty of instances of the type. Typical? I don't know. But there's too many of them. Are you sure he's not Phil in disguise? Maybe Phil is the ultimate sock-Puppet Master. Or maybe Phil is a sockpuppet himself, and there's an Ellsworth Toohey grade villain working full time to dumb down the discourse wherever rational discussions are in danger of breaking out.

Shit, as soon as I typed that, a window popped up on my screen with a warning, something about being sent to Room 101. I managed to do a quick reverse-tunnel and snap a picture of the sender:

Apparently his real name is O'Brien.

I agree that "Phil" and "WolfAlan" have a lot in common, and many similar "tells." The thing is, though, we've seen images and/or videos of both Phil and WolfAlan not only online but also at real events like TAS seminars. So, in order to pull that off, whoever the little fella is who is playing the character of "WolfAlan" would have to have been wearing a fat suit and silicon appliances to be a convincing "Phil."

J

[9thdoctor]

So, in order to pull that off, whoever the little fella is who is playing the character of "WolfAlan" would have to have been wearing a fat suit and silicon appliances to be a convincing "Phil."

Not if one, the other, or both are cyborgs. Under the control of the ET Puppet Master. The same one who had that moron on OO claim the 50% of Stravinsky's music is evil.

This goes way deeper than you seem willing to acknowledge. They're like Pod people.

And they're coming to get you.

[Selene]

In an overheated art market where anything seems possible, a painting of an outstretched nude woman by the early 20th-century artist Amedeo Modigliani sold on Monday night for $170.4 million with fees, in a packed sales room at Christie’s. It was the second highest price paid for an artwork at auction.

Have no idea if it would be behind a pay wall...

The painting became the 10th work of art to sell for nine figures under the hammer. It took nine minutes to sell, with the winning bid coming from an Asian buyer on the phone. Four others vied by phone against a bidder in the room.

The seller of the Modigliani, Laura Mattioli Rossi, the daughter of the Italian collector Gianni Mattioli, was guaranteed at least a $100 million minimum price. Just before the sale, Christie’s announced that a third party had stepped forward to share the risk — as well as any proceeds above the guaranteed price.

An arresting pop art work by Roy Lichtenstein, “Nurse,” from 1964, also defied expectations, selling for slightly over $95.3 million, well above its $80 million high estimate — despite the lack of a “speech” or “thought bubble” that typically drives up the price of Lichtenstein works. “Nurse” reached a new price level for Lichtenstein at auction. Christie’s also shared that guarantee with a third party.
Photo
Roy Lichtenstein’s “Nurse” (1964). Credit Estate of Roy Lichtenstein, via Christie’s

Monday night’s sale of 34 lots brought slightly more than $491.3 million .

It was Modigliani’s 1917-18 canvas, “Nu Couché,” that was the star lot around which Christie’s built its themed “Artist’s Muse” auction, designed to attract international buyers of the world’s most expensive art. With some collectors concerned about a bubble in the market for so-called “cutting edge” contemporary art, investment-conscious buyers have been looking for blue-chip names from earlier periods. Modigliani nudes are regarded as among the ultimate trophy paintings of the 20th century.

The price was a high for Modigliani at auction, beating the $70.7 million paid in New York last November for his 1911-12 sculpture “Tête.” His “Portrait de Paulette Jourdain,” from around 1919, sold for $42.8 million at Sotheby’s sale of the A. Alfred Taubman estate last week, well over its estimate of $25 million.

Monday’s sale assuaged concerns that the painting would be too risqué for some collectors.

“This painting leaps off the page as the most vibrant, sexual, lyrical of the catalog raisonee,” said Ana Maria Celis, a Christie’s specialist in Post-War & Contemporary Art.

In its preview exhibition, Christie’s deliberately positioned the Modigliani near Lucian Freud’s painting of his nude daughter Bella, “Naked Portrait on a Red Sofa.”

Ms. Celis noted that the Freud was less erotic than the Modigliani, “almost contemplative” by comparison.

The sale propelled Modigliani into the $100 Million-at-Auction Club whose members include Picasso (three times), Bacon, Giacometti (three times), Warhol and Munch. It also represented a far cry from the prices being asked for the Italian artist’s work in his own brief and unsuccessful lifetime (he died of tuberculosis in 1920 at age 35).

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In the winter of 1918-19, a desperate Modigliani offered to sell the entire contents of his Paris studio — which in all likelihood included Christie’s “Nu Couché” — to the British writers Osbert and Sacheverell Sitwell, for 100 pounds or $300 (roughly $4,700 today). According John Pearson’s 1978 book, “Facades: Edith, Osbert, and Sacheverell Sitwell,” the aristocratic brothers couldn’t raise the cash.

Lichtenstein’s “Nurse” generated a good deal of early excitement — with many people posing for pictures in front of it at Sunday’s champagne and canapé preview brunch — in part because of its sharp color and the quality of the artist’s signature dots, which were individually stenciled by hand.

Christie’s “Artist’s Muse” sale was a more conventional follow-up to the company’s unorthodox “Looking Forward to the Past” auction in May, with offerings handpicked by the young Christie’s specialist Loic Gouzer. That sale brought $705.9 million from 35 lots, including $179.4 million for Picasso’s 1955 painting, “Les Femmes d’Alger (Version ‘O’).”

Brett Gorvy, Christie’s worldwide chairman of postwar and contemporary art, said that Monday’s “Muse” sale had attracted both “the hard-core collector base and new buyers looking for a masterpiece.”

“They want to know they’re buying the best of the best,” he said. “The mood is about confidence. There’s more than enough liquidity in the market.”

Both auctions have relied heavily on Christie’s guaranteeing minimum prices to coax top quality works from owners, an increasingly common but risky practice that can leave auction houses with expensive unsold works.

On Monday, 18 lots in the catalog were guaranteed, as were about half the number of lots in the “Looking Forward” sale in May.

“These sales have a logic to them, and they’ve been a success,” David Nisinson, a New York-based collector and adviser, said. “The market for modern and contemporary has essentially become the entire art market. If they continue to attract very major property we may see more sales with this approach.”

Other observers were more skeptical, suggesting that the formula was wearing a little thin the second time around. The “Muse” theme was elastic enough for Christie’s to include the 1981 Andy Warhol silk-screen painting, “Gun,” estimated at $8 million to $12 million, which was also guaranteed by Christie’s.

“A Warhol ‘Gun’ painting? How was that his muse?” the New York dealer Henry Zimet said. “But if they can get away with it, good luck to them.”

Here are the nine other works that have sold for more than $100 million at auction, not adjusted for inflation, according to Christie’s.

$179.4 million — Pablo Picasso, “Les femmes d’Alger (Version ‘O’)” (1955), oil on canvas, 2015, Christie’s New York

$142.4 million — Francis Bacon, “Three Studies of Lucian Freud (in 3 parts)” (1969), oil on canvas, 2013, Christie’s New York

$141.3 million — Alberto Giacometti, “L’homme au doigt” (1947), bronze with patina and hand-painted, 2015, Christie’s New York

$120 million — Edvard Munch, “The Scream” (1895), pastel on board, 2012, Sotheby’s New York

$106.5 million — Pablo Picasso, “Nude Green Leaves and Bust” (1932), oil on canvas, 2010, Christie’s New York

$105.4 million — Andy Warhol, “Silver Car Crash,” 2013, Sotheby’s New York

$104.2 million — Pablo Picasso, “Garçon à la pipe” (1905), oil on canvas, 2004, Sotheby’s New York

$103.9 million — Alberto Giacometti, “L’homme qui marche” (1960), bronze, 2010, Sotheby’s London

$100.9 million — Alberto Giacometti, “Chariot” (1950), painted bronze, 2014, Sotheby’s New York

[Brant Gaede]

I don't see any special artistic skill.

I could acquire the technical ability to copy that painting in a few months. There is some difficult subtle shading in the skin. I could spend a lifetime trying to copy the Mona Lisa and do nothing but fail--horribly.

I'm not envious at all for the price it sold for. I'm only curious who's the idiot who bought it (if not why) and who are the idiots(?) who promoted it if not the artist too. I'm not rushing to see what else he's done. It's not that I'm a classical twit. I have to admit I think Picasso was a great artist and entirely interesting. So too Monet. Etc. I agree with many of those high prices, all considered.

--Brant

no, no, no--not that guy who splattered paint

[Jonathan]

I don't see any special artistic skill.

I love his style. I find it very beautiful and expressive.

I could acquire the technical ability to copy that painting in a few months.

Try it. In fact, take half a year. Let's see what you've got, talent-wise.

I'm not envious at all for the price it sold for. I'm only curious who's the idiot who bought it (if not why) and who are the idiots(?) who promoted it if not the artist too.

The artist is dead. Very dead.

I'm not rushing to see what else he's done.

Your loss.

J

[Jonathan]

So, in order to pull that off, whoever the little fella is who is playing the character of "WolfAlan" would have to have been wearing a fat suit and silicon appliances to be a convincing "Phil."

Not if one, the other, or both are cyborgs. Under the control of the ET Puppet Master. The same one who had that moron on OO claim the 50% of Stravinsky's music is evil.

This goes way deeper than you seem willing to acknowledge. They're like Pod people.

And they're coming to get you.

What happens if they succeed in getting me? Will they turn me into one of them?!!!

J

[moralist]

Jonathan writes:

No one has "blamed" God.

Jonathan wrote:

Only God had the power to damn others to hell.

Your own words just made a liar out of you.

Anyway, you seem to be saying that God is not involved in any way in people being sent to hell.

I don't just seem to say that. I AM saying that. People can only send themselves to hell by their own immoral actions.

So, what happens? They just go there automatically by some means that God did not establish?

I already said that God created the moral law which makes possible the self inflicted choice to sending yourself to hell by your own behavior. It's not God's fault that anyone is in hell. Its your own damned fault, because only you can punch your own ticket.

And hell is not necessarily after a person dies. People are in hell right here and now. The dope epidemic is ample proof of that. Hell is also cheating yourself out of the peace of mind of having a clear Conscience when you fail to do what's morally right.

Aside from the moronic distraction, my original point stands. The point was that Michelangelo could not send others to hell. He did not have that power.

Only you have the power to send yourself to hell,

so you can't blame God for what you do to yourself.

Greg