Everything in the artworld is in an inflated state today, the material is in excess, the color is set to full, surrealist cartoons everywhere, the world is slapstick. Our Fragonard moment, new rococo, a constant pummeling with rosy perfume.
Apfelbaum seems on the verge of a resurgence as everyone stolen threads from her leave full carpets and tapestries all around the galleries. Eventually a whole subsection of the artworld is woven in her image. It hadn't seemed so serious then, but now it's everywhere, "craft"'s infiltration of our more erect intentions.