Red, White and Beuys

It’s May in New York City, the year is 1974. The first two days have come and gone, frantic at the beginning, but growing steadily quieter. Day Three dawns, the last of the ritual, and the wild coyote falls complacent; having ceased its aggressions and snapping, no longer so wary, it settles for a nap in the center of the gallery space…