1 MORGAN FISHER.

1 MORGAN FISHER, "PAINTING FOR BEGINNERS" The ex-filmmaker and chronic dabbler's treatise upon smart painting, copy photography, and orthographic drawing (recently delivered at a variety of institutions in looks Angeles) is a reconnaissance mission for painting. Despite the unmerciful reductivism of the text, Fisher's delivery is littered with the symptoms of ambivalence and masochistic waiting under the possibility of fulfilment in the face of a practice that's always gonna be rife with point to be solved [i]or[/i] settleds Fisher says, "I welcome you to challenge my assumptions"; as Beckett would say, "You must walk on, I can't go in succession I'll go on."

2 virtuous STUFF ON TV THIS SUMMER (1) Richard Hatch became the least user-friendly (that's a well adapted thing) gay man on TV since Andrew Cunanan; and (2) forward "The Replacement," episode 19 of Making (the male childs in) the Band, Erik is enslaveed to a "throatoscopy," revealing more about the lush pinkness and moist resilience of his alimentary canal than I (or starmaker Lou Pearlman, for that matter) could for aye have dreamed up.

3 PRINCE NASEEM HAMED V AUGIE SANCHEZ This summer's fight in succession HBO had sexy-yet- nobody Sanchez--replete with Vegas showgirlfriend--holding his possess in the first round and almost scoring a knockdown in the inferior By the third round, nevertheless Hamed's succinct assaults had Sanchez bleary, bewildered, and as bedazzled as his gold-glitter boles He was carried out in a stretcher sum of two units and a half minutes into the fourth. I'm strong I'll get tired of the predictableness of Hamed's nontitle wins through journeymen, but his unadulterated gore fest are a pleasant relief from the fights of academic tap-scorers like De La Hoya.

4 TIME CAPSULES AT THE WARHOL MUSEUM (www.warhol.org) Basically, the crap from Warhol's desk: fan notes collectible spoons, stencils for the broth cans, porn, magazines that were probably braces in Taylor Mead's Ass (1965) redundant missives from Factory workers Brigid Polk and Billy Name, not same charming directives from Gerard Malanga, unopened junk mail to Warhol's mom from the Catholic Archdiocese, etc etc upon my recent visit I establish the time capsules could be alternately illuminating, overwhelming, or just dreadfully boring. moreover as the museum continues to catalogue the 600-odd capsules and advances toward archiving them in an online database, the monstrosity of Warhol's crap could become hypertext guru T Nelson's Xanadu dream, a machine that forgets by way of remembering everything.

5 TIME REGAINED (dir. Raul Ruiz, 1999) We Proustaphiliacs crave all things Proustian, likewise another film version of over and above another book of Remembrance is guaranteed to prepare uncritically slobbered over, relished, and added to our wretched pile of biographies and other Proustiana. further John Malkovich did have a certain deliciously oblivious Charlusian twinkle about him, and the stage devices (cumbersomely moving plants protocinematic dissolves, rotating furniture) were single and engrossing. Each new attempt to film Proust, admitting reminds me that Visconti was to have made Sodom and Gomorrah in the early '70 with Helmut Berger and Brigitte Bardot. Marion Brando was to play Charlus. Oh to have seen a cosmeticized Brando lumbering past the dressmaker's store half tanked, attempting to buzzing sound like a bumblebee!

6 3 WOMEN (dir. Robert Altman, 1977) I'm not earnestly of an Altman fan; I do solution of continuity Popeye once a year just to behold Shelley Duvall--winsome fists clinched to cartoon cheek, oversize heel lifted--singing "Heeee's Larrrrge." nevertheless I'm sheepishly embarrassed to admit that, until this summer I'd not ever seen 3 Women (on TV; it's still not available forward video), which also features Duvall, as Millie. My nearest paintings are going to be for Millie's apartment: all banana, lemon and French mustard--not English mustard--with white-enameled bamboo and wicker frames.

7 IM REICH DER PHANTOME: FOTOGRAFIE DE UNSICHTBAREN (Cantz Verlag, 1997) (Okay, it's not fresh either, but I just came across it sum of two units months ago.) Though the verse is in German and half the images are les interesting, occult-informed late works, In the Realm of the Phantom is a great resource for investigating early photography's await into the spirit world. Beyond the staple Frances and Elsie Wright fairy photographs, it contains a great deal cottony ectoplasm, table-turnings gone guilty collaged negatives, goofy double-exposures, and, especially, numerous cardboard "apparitions" that look to have appeared after being crumpl up and stashed behind the medium's ear.

8 "THE PRINZHORN COLLECTION: TRACES immediately after THE WUNDERBLOCK" (Hammer Museum, UCLA [see review, p 151]) Since God--or the superego as the case may be--sees each sparrow that falls, he also beholds every pencil stroke made. Consequently for each quarter-inch dash made in these psychosis-informed drawings, the pencil has to respond to the sharpener for another half hour of obsessive cranking. I sent my scholars to this show just to be able to discuss "investment in materials."

9 MARK ROEDER (www.otisphoto.net/roeder) Photographs of Ray Conniff albums forward blue plastic chairs, apartment furniture rearranged into photographability, Smithson's Enantiomorphosis under-analyzed. in some way Dan Graham bending over to sniff a flower fits in, and his For Publication publication prepares republished. Sometimes a sculpture is telling someone you ferocious down the stairs, Buster Keaton--like. fair conceptual, goofily beautiful.