It's been only a couple of months since my last trip to Amsterdam, so there better be a good reason to return so soon for yet another visit. And how could I say no to an invitation to attend the inaugural ceremony for the opening of the Hermitage Amsterdam, the ambitious collaboration between the famous museum in St. Petersburg and its colleagues in the Netherlands? While two previous attempts at branding by the Hermitage Museum – first in London and then in Las Vegas – turned out to be short-lived, this latest and most ambitious venture, in a beautifully restored 17th century building in the center of Amsterdam, seems to have real staying power...

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Sunday morning's ritual: a large cup of coffee and piles of newspaper spread out all over my bed. Then, out into the world to the farmers' market, with its abundance of color, texture, and taste. The Santa Monica market is brimming with eccentric characters vying for attention. Last Sunday, it was a slim, shirtless young fellow, with his pants so low that the only mystery remaining was whether he'd been circumcised or not. Looking at the multitude of his boring tattoos, I wondered if he had been exposed to art in school or had ever been taken to a museum. You see, I have a theory that if our schools provided a decent art education, then maybe young people like him would at least choose more interesting tattoos. And maybe with more art education in school, we would be spared the embarrassment of seeing hoards of abysmal portraits of our leaders in the halls and chambers of power throughout the nation...

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Let me come clean. Every time I visit the Metropolitan Museum, I skip the galleries displaying American art, and until recently, it was the same with the Huntington in San Marino. I would spend most of the time there savoring the world-class collection of English paintings and then finish by looking at a couple of temporary exhibitions. Not any longer...

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On Inauguration Day, four months ago, I talked about the dream I had for what our new president could accomplish if he decided to become a champion of art.  I imagined Barack taking Michelle and their adorable girls on a stroll through the National Gallery, and I fantasized about the president deciding to bring contemporary artworks into the White House – not only into the living quarters, but the Oval Office as well.  What a great chance it would be to breathe new energy into the historic rooms, which have gotten a bit stale and could use a break from traditional images of cowboys roaming the Wild West...

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President Obama's commencement speech at Notre Dame has gotten a lot of attention. I heard it on the radio and watched it on TV and was impressed by his eloquence. But when I saw on the front page of Monday's New York Times the photo of students with the president – big smiles and handshakes all around – I was taken aback by the unintentional lack of civility shown by the students. Take a look at the photograph...

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For good, normal folks who might go to a museum only once in a while, museums present themselves in a stately, unhurried, dignified manner.  But if you peer behind the curtain, 'calm' is the last word you would use to describe what's going on there...

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In last week’s program I asked you for advice: ‘To Tweet or Not to Tweet...’ and respond you did – with humor, sarcasm, and good straightforward advice.  To read all the responses posted, visit the Art Talk page of the KCRW website.  Here are some excerpts...

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Looking back at the past thirty years, I see the pattern of my initial reluctance to embrace the technology of the modern world.  First, I had to learn to drive a car, though some of my friends tell me that I still drive like a Russian peasant.  Then, there was an especially embarrassing moment when I heard for the first time the word "fax" and mistook it for, hmmm...an unprintable profanity, and that's how l learned about the existence of fax machines.  When I started to do my Art Talk, I would write and edit the text on an old-fashioned typewriter, until an assistant of mine eventually persuaded me to start working on a computer, so I got a used one, courtesy of her husband.  Now, years later, I am spending most of my working hours staring at a screen, reading and sending an endless stream of emails...

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It's unbearably hot even here, in Santa Monica, near the beach. Damn those Santa Ana winds. To survive, I need to think and talk about something cool. How about this? A stone's throw from Venice Beach sits LA Louver Gallery, one of the mainstays of the Los Angeles art scene. There, for the next few weeks, you can find a small herd of horses roaming the galleries – some standing still, others grazing or lying down, maybe even sleeping...

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Compared to a journalist covering the disintegration of the international financial system or reporting from the battlefield in Afghanistan, there is an obvious advantage to being an art critic. After all, where else if not in the art business can one think about Death, Debt, and Divorce as something to look forward to, a renewable source of profit for auction houses when private collectors are pressured to sell their art as a result of these three famous "D's." Even when the news from the art scene is especially grim, an encounter with a wonderful work of art can still restore my spirit as I make weekly rounds through the galleries and museums...

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