I’m begining to feel like a paparazzi stalking poor Philly homie Virgil Marti for artblog, but really, all I was doing was watching Charles Osgood on Sunday morning when a feature on the Whitney Biennial popped up on my tv screen. The reporter’s main point was that a lot of stuff in the show was incomprehensible, even if that stuff would be famous one day. But Virgil’s Grow Room installation, swell visual and all, was something on her short list of stuff referring to her own era that she seemed to have enjoyed.
If you missed it, at least you read it here.
