For the traditionalist visitor, Manhattan's wide-windowed Museum of Modern Art has as many jolts as a Coney Island funhouse. Some summer tourists, thankful for the air-conditioning (installed primarily to protect the pictures), take it all in good part. Others are made to feel stupid, cross, or both, when confronted with such enigmatic works as Malevich's White on Whitea white-painted canvas adorned with one tilted white square. They are dizzied by the linoleum-like pattern of Mondrian's Broadway Boogie Woogie, dismayed by the necrophilic horror of Albright's Woman, and dumbfounded by Joan Miro's Person Throwing...
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