I returned to the museum to study WHN, and found myself brooding over the museum’s abuse of its custodianship, its arbitrary restrictions that violate the readymade’s very nature. It was made to be shaken. And it never is. It’s like owning a record but never listening to it, as if just looking at the cover art and reading the list of songs would suffice.
Such thoughts made today’s visit quite unpleasant, but again, I stayed until closing.
And despite the aggravation, I shall return.