How tragic that the G, so elegantly conceived, has become what it is today: disparaged to no end, shorter (four cars) and stopping at fewer stations (21) than your average train, and consistently ranked first in mechanical failures.
Swamped as we are with information and its contradictions, we find solace in quiet spaces and humble crafts. So we find ourselves newly infatuated with the comic book, an unassuming, increasingly mainstream art that has long reconciled warring snippets of image and text.
The great thing about Mark Morris is how normal he looks. This is, by now, a banality, but it remains a distinguishing feature of the man and his company.