Jennifer Scappettone

Seeing remains a specifically sited enterprise, it seems at times, against every mirage of neutrality or cosmopolitan haze that threatens to be whipped up by Biennials of Art.
One Venice After Another: The Present Tense of the Future-Past at the 52nd Biennale
I don’t know what new rigor brought me to you, houses of black terrain…
First Italian Prose (1954)
Beauty
was thereafter ugly the new
Black

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