From the New York Times:
“ART adores a vacuum. That’s why styles, genres and mediums left for dead by one generation are often revived by subsequent ones. In the 1960s and ’70s public sculpture was contemporary art’s foremost fatality — deader than painting actually. The corpse generally took the form of corporate, pseudo-Minimalist plop art. It was ignored by the general public and despised by the art world.
But over the past 15 years public sculpture — that is, static, often figurative objects of varying sizes in outdoor public spaces — has become one of contemporary art’s more exciting areas of endeavor and certainly its most dramatically improved one.
To be sure, this new public sculpture is not always good. (Damien Hirst’s “Virgin Mother” at Lever House comes to mind.) If this kind of work may not be batting much above .300, hits are happening, showing art’s ability to reach larger audiences (as it satisfies its core one) and to create a communal experience that is in some ways akin to movies or popular music in its accessibility.”
Yet you can’t help but notice. Step inside the house where Ms. Rosler has lived since 1987, and you see piles of newspaper and magazine clippings, photographs and books littering every conceivable surface. In her downstairs office four Macintosh computers fight for space with a sea of videotapes, slides, film canisters and political buttons and posters. More piles lead the way up the staircase, and line her tchotchke-filled living room.
“THERE’S no shortage of connections, ranging from substantial to filamentary to wispy, between the art scenes in Los Angeles and Berlin. There’s the relentlessly contemporary emphasis. There’s the way that some leading Los Angeles dealers, like Javier Peres and Susanne Vielmetter, have opened Berlin branches. There’s the sense that both scenes are shaped more by artists (and art students) than by the art market.
The 
In November 2007, Mark Dion artist, archeologist, flea marketer and naturalist, embarked on an expedition to northern Florida that retraced the journeys of William Bartram, the great 18th century artist, botanist, naturalist and explorer. Dion and his traveling companions collected things both natural and unnatural, kept detailed journals, and documented the journey with still and moving pictures. On view in the exhibition are examples of his findings in the historic home of John Bartram on the banks of the Schuylkill River in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Mark’s handwritten journals and hand-painted postcards, maps, water and seed samples, small plastic treasures, and numerous examples of alligator replicas will be shown among the hundreds of treasures that he mailed back. They will be displayed in cabinets of curiosity built especially to house the collections.
