Wow, this is a terrible, paint-by-numbers biography. Doubts set in on page 42, when Spoto described Marcel Duchamp's "Fountain"as a
toilet seat. Dude, urinal! I did, however, enjoy finally reading about Isadora Duncan's bizarre death after the author alluded to it about ninety times in the first few chapters. I have the feeling this will be something I am reviewing without finishing (venal sin for reviewers, I know).
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