I may be old and I may be cranky, but I can smell rotten cheese from miles away and the art world that I know and love stinks of limburger and dirty socks, because it is getting cheesier and cheesier. Far be it for me to criticize a show I don’t even watch, because I don’t have cable, called Work of Art: all I need to do is read the show’s disclaimer that the judges "consult with the show’s producers and Bravo" before making their decisions. In other words, like all "reality shows," it’s a fix.
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