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Modernism with a human touch. Hand whittled. But modernism is already dirtied. For all their high idealism the Mondrians are dirty, their line shakes slighty. Judds have fingerprints, blemishes. The stuff you're not supposed to notice. The stains that arrive from the artist's studio, that the archivist knows not what to do with. The "hands" of artist. Sometimes we want hands and sometimes we don't. The spills and the drips authorize the sugar sweet thing we call the authentic. Distill this authentic down and you get sludge. That might be too much hand, too much dirt, that might be craft.
