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Like awaking to find the remains of the party with hangover fully in head, touched, Hyte's littered objects evidentiary to what was, point to the artist as magistrate god hand, party organizer, but it's less requiem than happiness at the post-apocalypse the doors open to nature spilling into ours, the crust of time and hand, the paper that conforms to your pressure.
See too: Susan Cianciolo at Modern Art
