We are, as it were, of all ages, 8 to 90, we are students and professors and film directors and theatre people and publishers and editors and philosophers, and we work-converse-discuss all the way up the spirals of Frank Lloyd Wright's Guggenheim. Over and over, the visitors I walk up with exclaim that his building has never looked better -- no paintings on the walls on our way up, no cover over the skylight, and Sehgal's choreography works wonderfully.
One visitor I walked with almost shouted how it made her want to go back to school, would I please tell Tino? Another said, in fact many said, in different ways: this is what art is all about.
"This Progress," it is called, and somehow that title seems relevant to all of us, and all of This.
At the risk of sounding super-sentimental, we hate to leave the community it sets up...
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