Manhattan's lively Martha Jackson Gallery could think of no satisfactory title for its new show, and so in its press release on the event last week, it tactfully announced: "We invite the press to name this new art form for us." The press was at a loss too, for much of the "new art form" is a bewildering jumble of horrors: tortured junk and bric-a-brac, flattened tin cans and old clothes, or simply an old chair with its innards ripped out.
According to the more uninhibited of the new media boys, there is not...
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