Pete Segall

Vivian Maier didn’t aim to exhaustively catalog her surroundings. What her work declares is that the ordinary cannot be exhausted.

Within so much physical unobtrusion and almost self-negating structures, you’ve got to supply your own atmospheric narrative.

Berenice Abbott documented a city that seemed a monument to everything other than what and who had produced it.

They do their best.

As moralizing, The White Lotus is blithely hollow; as camp, it’s depressingly prurient.