Consider the middle-income Manhattan executive, say, who is invited to attend the weekday-evening vernissage of his favorite nephew, an artist. He thinks he is entering the charmed circle of bohemia. He finds himself in a small up stairs room where dozens of people exactly like himself are sipping watery punch and gabbling uneasily. His only consolation is that the room is so crowded that he can't see the pictures.
Actually, his nephew's kind of opening is as out of date as The Moon and Sixpence. The openings that today's most authentic bohemians frequent...
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