Word: life
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Poisonous Broth. More widespread than radioactive fallout, DDT is found in every kind of aquatic life and in almost every animal. Even mother's milk exhibits traces of DDT two or three times as high as the maximum standard for cow's milk set by the Food and Drug Administration. In any other container, a current quip has it, mother's milk would be prohibited from crossing state lines...
...extraordinary durability and mobility. The chemical belongs to a family of organochlorine pesticides-the "deadly seven" as ecologists call them.-Like the other organochlorines, DDT does not dissolve in water. Thus it accumulates in rivers, lakes and seas for years after the original contamination. Moreover, its unusually long half-life of ten to 15 years means that it retains 50% of its effectiveness for more than a decade after it is first used...
Marcel Duchamp lived his life with a touch of magic. He thrived on paradox, and invested contradiction with its own kind of inexplicable logic. His now-legendary Nude Descending a Staircase made him the succes de scandale of Manhattan's 1913 Armory Show. Duchamp responded by giving up painting. Next, he presented an unlikely series of "readymade" objects, including a snow shovel and a urinal, as artistic creations, and saw that idea take root. Then, having shaken the pillars of traditional esthetics, he abandoned art altogether. In 1923, not yet 40, Duchamp settled down to a life of chess...
Triumphant Denouement. Or so everyone thought. This week the Philadelphia Museum of Art, which owns the largest collection of Duchamp's work, reveals that the conniving chess player had prepared one final gambit after all. On view is an entire room designed by Duchamp to accommodate a life-size environmental work on which he had secretly worked over a period of 20 years. He had even planned its installation at the museum, but the work's existence was known only to his wife and a few friends...
...make a direct statement without words," recalls Duchamp's widow. "Something you look at and just feel." The museum permits no photographs; the implications and the richness of innuendo must rest solely in the mind. What has one really seen? Is this a celebration of sex? Art? Life? Is eros, like beauty, in the eye of the beholder? And what of that strange sense of flesh, poignant and vulnerable as a falling leaf, poised against the spectacle of nature...