Robert smithson

History is a facsimile of events held together by finally biographical information.

Language thus becomes monumental because of the mutations of advertising.

Banal words function as a feeble phenomena that fall into their own mental bogs of meaning.

A vacant white room with lights is still a submission to the neutral. Works of art seen in such spaces seem to be going through a kind of esthetic convalescence.

Questions about form seem as hopelessly inadequate as questions about content.

Cultural confinement takes place when a curator imposes his own limits on an art exhibition, rather than asking an artist to set his limits.

History is representational, while time is abstract; both of these artifices may be found in museums, where they span everybody's own vacancy.

From the top of the quarry cliffs, one could see the New Jersey suburbs bordered by the New York City skyline.

Art history is less explosive than the rest of history, so it sinks faster into the pulverized regions of time.

Some artists imagine they've got a hold on this apparatus, which in fact has got a hold of them. As a result, they end up supporting a cultural prison that is out of their control.