The poor English artists getting nearer and nearer to us now only did a pleasing decorative, sympathetic, but not aggressively innovative typeQuotes:
The poor English artists getting nearer and nearer to us now only did a pleasing decorative, sympathetic, but not aggressively innovative type of flat abstract painting, using masking tape. They were influenced by Matisse, who said he wanted art to be like a comfortable armchair for a tired businessman to rest in.
Julian Schnabel was the first monster superbrat of the 80s artworld, model for Koons and Hirst later.
In hirst's "gambler" warehouse show, he showed first cowhead flies: a hundred years, next came a thousand years.
So whereas in the past a work of art almost couldnt be taken seriously if it didnt have cubist fragmentation and flatness, or if it didnt have drips, or if it wasn't a photo of some pebbles--the equivalent now is if it isnt scribbled casually in brio and doesnt have a slightly unhinged air of negativity and world-weary black humor, and seeing the black heart in everything, but at the same time being in an oceanic sea of oneness with ordinary people and their obsession with pop culture and street fashion and the movies.
Waddington shows safe blue-chip Modernism, like Picasso, or market proved contemporary international stars like Schnabel.
Perhaps Francis Bacon was on his way to the studio after a night of gambling and drinking champagne. As we know, the studio is small, at the top of a narrow staircase in a quiet South Kensington mews, with a single bare light bulb and a skylight, and a writhing masterpiece of a wind-up easel. There is a chaos of brushes and paint cans and old newspapers and tubes of the most expensive purple and cadmium orange. There are trays of crumbly pastels, and sheets o f Letraset, and bottles of fabric dyes. and books open at color reproductions of infected mouths, and paintings by Velazquez. The walls and door and mirror have all been used as a pallette. As he glides up the escalator, the station begins to hum with Francis Bacon cliches. Art after Auschwitz hums first. The horrors of the 20th century. Totalitarianism and the Bomb. The human condition theme. We are just sides of meat. The theater of cruelty. Expression shooting out of nerve endings in the fingertips. Blobs of flung white. Not bourgeois decoration. Life summed up by a dog turd he saw in the gutter once. Painting at night by the bare light bulb on inspiration and champagne. Blurred hallucination realism. Erotic male flesh.
I can't think of anyone who is really obsessed about Duchamp any more, except conservative critics who want to blame him for everything.
Jakes and Dinos Chapman: They used life size mannequins to enact a sculpture of Goya's disasters of war etchings. About the same time they were making lifesize children with sexual organs on their faces, gruesome vaginas or erections, and siamesse-twin children with vaginas growing out of the join between the faces, and the Chapman parents covered with sexual organs and horrible gouged holes, like torture marks. They made a table-top tableau of a brain and a penis, with a mechanical hammer hammering the brain and, with each blow, a spurt of semen-like white liquid ejaculating from the plastic penis.
Marc Quinn--sculpture of man with errect penis: "the Blind Leading the Blind"
Today I saw an exhibition curated by Martin Maloney called "Die Yuppie Scum". It was a pretentious title since no artists really want to exterminate yuppies, they want them to buy their art too much, unless it was a clever Anglo-German collective noun for the artists in the show. [Martin Maloney's paintings in the exhibit were very straightforward paintings of flowers in bowls. they look amatuer, like beginning art class esque. Was there a strategy in this? Is this how to get back at the yuppie scum, sell them something so ugly and ordinary as a shocking statement in an otherwise more overtly ironic art show?]
Good place to look for famous contemporary artists you might not know:
Favorite or Interesting Pieces:
Marina Abramovic "The Artist is Present" (2010) AGood place to look for famous contemporary artists you might not know:
Favorite or Interesting Pieces:
Marina Abramovic "The Artist is Present" (2010) Already watched the documentary with the same title, and admire more of her earlier works than this one
Ai WeiWei "Sunflower Seeds" (2010) One hundred hand sculpted and painted porcelain sunflower seeds made by 1,600 Chinese artisans. Certainly a powerful statement.
Mark Alexander "The Blacker Gachet" (2005-6) A Japanese businessman bought Van Gough's Dr. Gachet in 1990 for 82.4 million, highest ever paid at that point. Then when he died in 1996, it seems he cremated himself with the painting. Supposedly this event has become a metaphor in the art world for the eventual disintegration of all art. The more interesting story is this, Alexander happened to cash in on the idea and paint these dark smoky all black portraits of Dr. Gachet again, 13 of them. I suppose these will then be bought for millions of dollars. I'd just been thinking of an idea for a piece of art, like an anti-Duchamp ready-made, you could call it an un-made, and it would be hyping the price up on a piece, getting it higher and higher, and then never selling it, in fact donating it to a museum or city or venue for nothing on the legal binding contract that it can never be bought or sold. I told this to a friend and he argued that eventually it would be sold. He said the only way to really get rid of its monetary value would be to burn it. In another inverse way, that's what that's businessman did. Although then someone still kept the idea around in monetary form. Money's certainly a hard racket to beat, especially in the contemporary art world.
Maurizio Cattelan "L.O.V.E" (2010) Finally this guy does something political, maybe he had before, but I'd watched an art safari documentary on him and he just seemed like a vacuous jokester. Here he takes the joke in a hilarious and meaningful way. After all who better to criticize the kings than the jester. Here he builds an eleven meter tall middle finger sculpted in marble in the plaza of Milan's stock exchange. Business schools canceled conferences scheduled to be held in adjoining buildings. Executives with plush offices facing the Piazza demanded new digs away from the crass eyesore. Cattelan in true joker fashion says the piece was to disfigure the fascist salute of Mussolini, because the fingers of the hand outside the middle finger are actually broken off. The writer of this book says that the insult is in the eye of the beholder, it could be the bankers flipping off the world, or the people flipping off the bankers. However I say it's the people, because the fingers are broken off, that shows a lack of power, it shows a desperate sort of fuck you and we can't do anything about it stance. I wonder what L.O.V.E. stands for? Probably in Italian? Loving Our Virtuous Economy?
Martin Creed "Work No. 227, the lights going on and off" (2000) That's right, it's a room where the lights go on for five seconds then go off, between doorways through the rest of the gallery. It had its lovers, its haters. It even had a woman from North London who dreamed she was throwing eggs at the exhibit, told her husband who said oh don't do that, and two hours later she was defacing the exhibit (with eggs? Not sure), when she was arrested she said: I have nothing against Creed, although I do not think his work can be considered art. At worst, it's an electrical work. At best, it's a philosophy.
Olafur Eliasson "The Weather Project" (2003) Imagine a huge burning sun in the Turbine Hall of the Tate Modern, hazy, eerie, an all-consuming sunset. Looks pretty magnificent in this photo, wonder if they turned the heat up in the room? With its title, it's an obviously nod to climate change. It did attract over two million visitors, but I'm not sure they came because the critique of climate change, in fact I think they came because ironically it was very beautiful to behold.
Elmgreen & Dragset "Prada Marfa" (2005) They set up a prada shopfront just outside of Marfa, Texas (pop. 2,100). No one worked there, no one opened it. It was on an abandoned highway. Within three days, people broke in and looted all the handbags and shoes. Were they real Prada? Probably. They tagged the place with an art critique of their own: "Dumb Dum Dum". Funny enough they were actually making it into a better artwork, a vandalized Prada store in the middle of nowhere, now that's real art.
Tracey Emin "My Bed" 1998 Her disheveled bed, next to it on a natty blue rug: KY, pregnancy test, panties, cigarette cartons, a little puppy, tampons, wads of tissue, condoms somewhere?, and pantyhose on the bed, some sort of locked up backpack on the other side of the bed. I'd say there's a narrative here though some critics hated it.
Carsten Holler "Test Site" (2006) It's a metal slide you can play in, warped around the floors of the Tate Modern.
Jeff Koons "Puppy" (1992) Koons gets dropped from a exhibiting at documenta 9 in Germany probably because of his Made in Heaven series, photos and paintings of him having sex with his porn star wife. So what does he do? He creates the largest topiary animal ever known to man: a twelve meter tall West Highland Terrier covered with over 70,000 blossoming flowers outside the event. Later, when it goes on permanent display at the Guggenheim in Bilbao, Spain, basque Separatists attempt to fill the puppy up with remote control grenades as a terrorist attack, in the confrontation a police man is killed, but the plot foiled.
Sarah Lucas "Au Naturel" (1994) It's a dirty mattress with two melons stuck in it (breasts), a bucket laying on its side underneath the melons (a vagina I heard another art critic say), and a cucumber with two oranges off to the side (a penis).
Ernesto Neto "Leviathan Thot" (2006) Take the Patheon in Paris, home of all their revered rational thinkers etc and fill it up with a gooey white Ghostbusters-esque supernatural ecto-plasm and hang it from the rafters in total asymmetrical geometry. What's all this goop mean? Well the Leviathan is the monstrous state in Thomas Hobbes so says the author of this book. It could be said to be achieving a sculpture of such abstract design it relates to thoughts and thus to the idealization of France's heroes. Or maybe it's cum? No, too crude. Obviously I won't be buried in a Pantheon. Nor will Ernesto Neto.
Marc Quinn "Self" (1991-) Creepy creepy creepy, did I say creepy. Just look it up, it's a sculpture of his head, his texture of it almost looks like we've zoomed into the microscopic level of an electron microscope. It's made out his blood every 5 years, it's an ongoing sculpture. It's kept in tact through refrigeration and the steel mold. His eyes are closed, it looks like he's been buried and frozen in a volcano, say Pompeii. Judging by the surface of his skin, he really needs to go to a dermatologist right away.
Gregor Schneider "The Beauty of Death" (unmade) I've seen this guy before in another Art Safari episode, this guy is a creep. Watching the video you'd almost imagine he either was 1) molested or beat as a child, 2) has fantasies of murder or has murdered someone, and/or 3) may have brain damage from the lead factory he and his family have worked in. So when I heard this piece, the "pure idea" of having a place where someone could die in peace, a beautiful spot (based on his aesthetics, for he makes rooms, that's his art mostly, Wes Craven esque rooms, sparse, dark, with odd objects, just the place you'd like to wander into and meet a homicidal German). "I want to display a person dying naturally in the piece or somebody who has just died. My aim is to show the beauty of death". This coming from a man who made up a female alter ego who said was an artist who worked with him, and had her piece be a mannequin of a dead woman and a pipe in the corner of a room. His death idea was met with outrage in 2008 when he revealed the idea in an interview. He got death threats. He said he didn't want to sensationalize it. He wanted to reclaim that final human action. "My aim would be to find a way of death that is beautiful and fulfilled." In 2005-2007 he built Toter Raum: Death space, it's a very simple room and I hope no one will die in it or have a funeral there. The author of this book tries to reason with Scheinder's ambition, but I really don't think he saw that Art Safari episode, where the artist comes off as insane and can't answer questions, retreats into himself, and seems utterly detached. Perfect serial killer vibe meets sparse interior design. ...more
Only read Chapter 17 on Conceptualism/Fluxus and Chapter 20 on 1988-2008: Fame and Fortune
Quotes/Notes: July 1988, the Young British Artists have an eOnly read Chapter 17 on Conceptualism/Fluxus and Chapter 20 on 1988-2008: Fame and Fortune
Quotes/Notes: July 1988, the Young British Artists have an exhibit called Freeze, 16 YBAs with Damien Hirst one of the them. Sept 2008: Hirst's own auction during financial meltdown called: Beautiful Inside My Head Forever The time between these two events represented the culmination of a twenty-year period in which the prevailing attitude among artists, curators, and dealers was won of energetic enthusiasm, youthful optimism, and a culture of enterprise. [Spurred on by Maggie's there's nothing as society, go get out on your bike and make a living won't you.] It was a mood that permeated the art world and provides the word with which I'm going to sum up this late period of contemporary art activity: Entrepreneurialism.
The 'Sensation' show: Sarah Lucas and Tracey Emin
My Lonesome Cowboy (1998)—a play on the title of an Andy Warhol film (a sexed-up satire on a Western movie)—depicts a male carton character in the moment of exuberant self-administered sexual release, as his purple penis hoses white liquid above his head, which has been frozen into the shape of a lasso. Of course on one level it is juvenile and inane: that is the artist's intention. But then a bit of fun can cost a lot. In 2008, it went up at auction starting at 4 million, it sold for 13.5 million. That is a lot of money to pay for a fiberglass figure of a masturbating cartoon character. Or is it?
Ai Weiwei's work, based on a powerful political conviction, has been an exception, not the rule, for the art produced in the recent past. For the most part, contemporary art has been devoid of a hard political edge [Santiago Sierra is another example], save for the odd intervention that has generally had the look of a bandwagon hastily being jumped upon. On the whole, even when the avant-garde artists of our age have been at their most aggressive and challenging, they have tended to present their work with a cheeky grin rather than an angry scowl. The inclination has often been to entertain, not to campaign. The big shifts in society that have taken place over the last twenty-five years have been largely overlooked by high-profile artists. An era of winner-takes-all capitalism, in which fame and fortune matter above all else, has been little commented on: the effects of globalization and digital media hardly mentioned. As for environmental issues, political and media corruption, terrorism, religious fundamentalism, the disintegration of rural life, the alarming divisions in society as the rich get richer and the poor get poorer, and the spectacular greed and heartlessness of bankers; well, it's as if it never happened, if you were to rely on contemporary art displayed in museums as your source of information.
Maybe the eyes and minds of artists have been elsewhere. Maybe they've felt compromised. One of the consequences of being an artist-entrepreneur is that you are as prone as anybody else in business to fall in line with the philosophy of expediency, to accept that deals occasionally have to be done with the devil. And once you've supped from the same spoon as the pointy-tailed one, it makes the avoidance of hypocrisy very difficult. How do you make a profound and heartfelt anti-capitalist work of art, for example, if you've spent the previous evening at a swanky museum dinner sitting next to the head of some investment bank, who also happens to be one of your major collectors/clients? Or how do you make a work about the environment when your own carbon footprint is far larger than most? Can it be possible to produce a painting or sculpture that seeks to illuminate an unfairness in a society from which you are so obviously benefiting? And how do you go about criticizing the establishment, when you are a fully signed-up member of its inner circle? The answer is, you don't.
I suspect if Marcel Duchamp were alive today he would be a street artist. He'd certainly be lauded wherever he went. So much of the art produced today has the Frenchman's iconoclastic attitude. He is the man whom I hear most contemporary artists cite as an influence. It was Picasso's painterly personality that dominated the first half of the century, but there is no question that the second half has increasingly been played out against a backdrop of Duchampian mind games.
Ethereal and Entrancing: a Meditation on Time and Perception
Llompart's collection reminds me of the clean, lush meditations of Jack Gilbert with a uniEthereal and Entrancing: a Meditation on Time and Perception
Llompart's collection reminds me of the clean, lush meditations of Jack Gilbert with a unique windswept eye that like the wind travels through the sky and trees simultaneously observing all things, especially the animals, love, and the eternal ebb and flow of time. This order that is cyclical but not repetitive is what she captures and illuminates as she goes, with a visceral bite here and there like Plath, but with a grace to all experiences and a grandeur that can be but a glance to the sky or the moon.
Some of my favorite lines: “...like a morning / song in the throat of a bird before / it takes wing from a cage of sleep.” “She hopes that life is a thing // she can slice open at the round, / hopes that it is fleshy and sweet.” “There is blood rancid in me that you can not move.” “Blessed all the debris that waits inside / of monuments...” “Those who lick their fingertips and / pinch flames out instead of letting wax be wax...”
Organized in four sections, each builds off the other with poise; my favorite is the second: Almanac. These 12 poems drift through the seasons with ease, absent of cliché and full of a strange eternal unveiling as her story intermingles. During and after I was left swimming in a reverie for the months and years as they pass, giving us each their details and nuance.
The ending poem “Interludes” is reflective of the entire work, in that it is gorgeous in its pacing and that the eye of the poet goes everywhere in search of beauty and experience leading illumination as: “...all growth / is an argument / for more light.”...more
Quotes: VG: To the great revolution! Which revolution? VG: Ah, maybe it's a utopia. I want to set up an artists' society that will guarantee a livelihooQuotes: VG: To the great revolution! Which revolution? VG: Ah, maybe it's a utopia. I want to set up an artists' society that will guarantee a livelihood for its members. ...more
Why Not Sneeze? (1921) was the kind of transitional object that channeled the hot air of Dada into the lungs of Surrealism, which was at that tQuotes:
Why Not Sneeze? (1921) was the kind of transitional object that channeled the hot air of Dada into the lungs of Surrealism, which was at that time just evolving.
Nude Descending a Staircase (No. 2) (1912) seemed to "Futurist" to the Cubists involved with the Salon des Independants, because it contained movement. The Cubists wanted to clarify and strengthen their position against other "isms" that were cropping up. Duchamp responded to his withdrawal of his painting: "Well, if that's the way they want it, then there's no question about me joining a group; one can only count on oneself, one must be a loner."
Influenced by Raymond Roussel's Impressions of Africa
Kadinsky: "The artist seeks material rewards for his skill, his powers of invention and observation. His aim becomes the satisfaction of his own ambition and greed. Instead of a close collaboration among artists, there is a scramble for these rewards. There are complaints about competition and overproduction. Hatred, bias, factions, jealousy, and intrigue are the consequences of this purposeless, materialist art."
Louise Arensberg: "Duchamp was interested in finding new formulas with which to assault the tradition of the picture and of painting; despite the pitiless pessimism of his mind, he was personally delightful with his ironies. The attitude of abdicating everything, even himself, which he charmingly displayed between two drinks, his elaborate puns, his contempt for all values, even the sentimental, were not the least reason for the curiosity he aroused, and the attraction he exerted on men and women alike."
The readymades—Duchamp's elimination of the individual, handmade quality of art.
Strangely enough after all this, the original urinal was finally misplaced by Arensberg himself. Just like the Bicycle Wheel, the Bottle Rack, In Advance of the Broken Arm, and other readymades, it has since been replaced by replicas. The thought, not the object, was saved. [Perhaps this was on purpose to further illustrate the hypocrisies of artistic objects].
Thoroughly enjoyable read, doesn't lag for a sentence. And as the author describes, because Man Ray was a neutral party and friends across most of theThoroughly enjoyable read, doesn't lag for a sentence. And as the author describes, because Man Ray was a neutral party and friends across most of the feuding Dadaists, Surrealists, older guard, high society, and the communist enthusiasts, we get to hear from them all.
At Armory Show in NYC in 1913: paintings by Picasso ranged from $486 to $1,350. Marcel Duchamp's Nude Descending a Staircase was priced at $324 (and found a buyer).
Man Ray: "Cezanne the naturalist; Picasso the mystic realist; Matisse of large charms and Chinese refinement; Brancusi the divine machinist; Rodin the illusionist; Picabia surveyor of emotions"
Hans Richter: "Picabia is the passionate destroyer, Duchamp the aloof anti-creator, Man Ray the pessimistic and tireless inventor."
Although the Surrealists constantly censured each other for compromising with capitalistic society, as when they worked in theater or wrote for the newspapers, Surrealists also had to eat.
Robert Desnos dismissed Breton as an imposter who lied to his friends, accused him of hypocrisy because he criticized others for making money with their art while he himself lived "on the fat of the land" by selling paintings, praising only those artists on whom he made money.
*Confronted with Eluard's stubborn determination to communism, Man Ray remembered telling him: "A poet doesn't need to justify his existence." *
Andre Breton believed it his duty to object to the opening of a cabaret on boulevard Edgar Quinet that dared to exploit the sacred-to-Surrealism name Maldoror, and had denounced Robert Desnos for his apparent endorsement of the place. What Breton did not mention in the manifesto was the rapid mobilization of a Surrealist commando to attack the offending establishment. On the night of February, 14th, 1930, the Breton brigade marched on the cabaret, located between the Montparnasee railway station and the cemetery, bursting in during a formal banquet. The solemnity of the occasion served as a stimulus to Breton, who strode to the bar and rapped it fiercely with his cane as he proclaimed, "We are the guests of the Count de Lautreamont!" He then joined Andre Thirion in wrenching tablecloths from the tables, causing a shattering of bottles, glasses, and plates. Invaders, diners, and waiters came to blows. The Surrealist side took at least one casualty, as poet Rene Char received a knife thrust to the thigh.
Louis Aragon (having gone militant communist): "In 1930 and 1931, we have attained this paradoxical result: our doctrine is considered a luxury product precisely because of its revolutionary character. Bourgeois society accepts it only in smaller and smaller printings."
Shortly before the scheduled opening of the International Writers Congress for the Defense of Culture, on June 21, 1935, Andre Breton saw Ilya Ehrenburg leave La Rotonde to cross boulevard du Montaparnasse to buy tobacco for his pipe at the shop alongside the Dome. Breton followed him inside, announced who he was, and proceeded to slap Ehrenberg repeatedly across the face—Ehrenberg stood with his arms at his sides, demanding to know what it was all about. It was about, and of course Ehrenburg knew it, the offensive language the Russian writer had employed about the Surrealists in a book published in Paris a year earlier. Ehrenberg had referred to the Surrealist group as a "stinking pheasant". Surrealists pretended to support the Revolution, he wrote, but most of all they avoided constructive labor. Yet they were not entirely idle, for they actively studied "pederasty and dreams". They busied themselves devouring a legacy—or a wife's dowry. "The Soviet Union disgusts them because over there people work."
Didn't hold my attention all the way to the end. Suppose it's because I'm exhausting my interest in reading about this period. But there was also someDidn't hold my attention all the way to the end. Suppose it's because I'm exhausting my interest in reading about this period. But there was also something in the style that wasn't as gripping as other books I've read on the same subject. Or maybe it was because it's focus was much more on art than writing, and I'm more interested in the latter. Also, Picasso, if you didn't already know it, was an asshole.
In 20s Montparnasee there would no longer be a handful of artists, as in Montamartre, but hundreds, thousands of them. It was an artistic flowering of a richness and quality never to be rivalled, even later in Saint-Germain-des-Pres. Painters, poets, sculptors, and musicians, from all countries, all cultures, classical and modern, met and mingled. Rich patrons of the arts and art dealers of the moment, models and their painters, writers and publishers, poverty-stricken artists and millionaires lived together, side by side.
Doubt is the eternal language of the artist faced with themselves. The new work is never a certainty. It rests on nothing, not even the preceding one.
On the right bank was the Bateau Lavoir, on the left, the smoke-filled evenings of the Closerie des Lilas. Between the two flowed the Seine. And the entire history of modern art.
As Picasso himself would recognize, he wasn't a giver, but a taker.
The novelist will write 'a green dress' and the poet will write 'a dress the color of grass'.
Picasso was jealous of everything and everyone as he would remain the rest of his life.
Their works, vigorous in colors and contrasts, were grouped together in one single room that the art critic Louis Vauxcelles, very popular with conventional thinkers and totally hostile to modern art, called the 'wild beasts' cage', the cage aux fauves. Thus fauvism was born and baptized. Three years later, with others, this same critic compared Braque's painting, exhibited at Kahnweiler's, to cubes. Thus cubism got its name. The man, in his way, was a visionary...
Vlaminck hated not only schools and academies, but also museums, cemeteries, and churches. He claimed that anarchism has led him to fauvism. "I thus satisfied my desire to destroy the old conventions, to 'disobey', so as to recreate a sensitive, vibrant, and liberated world."
Baudelaire wrote The South of France is brutal and positive whereas the North is suffering and anxious.
Arthur Caravan: Some might be tempted to think that I have something against cubism. Not at all: I prefer the eccentricities of even a banal mind to the boring, predictable work of a bourgeois imbecile.
Symbolism freed verse from its constraints and from the burdensome rules of prosody.
In La Ruche, Boucher rented out the studios for a modest price to poor painters (many of them Jewish painters who'd come from Eastern Europe). They had a single room, which they called 'the coffin': a triangle with a platform above the door where the tenants slept on a thin mattress. There was no water, no gas, no electricity. The halls were dark, with rubbish heaped up in the corners, and leaky sewers.
[Poets love wit the way painters love color.]
Blaise Cendrars: The first virtue of a novelist is to be a liar.
The French invented camouflage in World War I by hiring painters, many of them cubists, to make it.
Breton considered Duchamp to be the most intelligent man of the 20th century.
Stieglitz exhibited the works of other artists for free, giving them the full sum earned from every sale. The sale of his own photos was enough for him.
Dada as a term was born on Feb 8th, 1916. On July 14th, 1916, the first Dada performance took place.
They disregarded existing laws, especially those connecting love and marriage.
Bohemians emerged as an individual or group identity contrary toQuotes:
They disregarded existing laws, especially those connecting love and marriage.
Bohemians emerged as an individual or group identity contrary to the hard-working, if triumphant, bourgeoisie, dull of taste or imagination but large of bankbook.
Bohemia itself is supposed to have disappeared, at least several times, as high rents came to formerly low-rent neighborhoods where its denizens dwelled. Yet somehow it persists, or rather irregularly reappears. Not only in the US or Europe of course, but by now, almost everywhere. ...more