Unceremoniously invited to “make something of a plywood floor”, the museum decided to embed itself within it. Protruding from that surface like any surgically engorged ass (Has it mentioned the story it’s seeking representation for, revolves around plastic surgery?) the museum set up shop in the trodden “platform” of another’s, similarly sketchy, “art envelope”. Occupying the swollen desk/lump (bigger seems better, with bank accounts and asses these days), until its exhibition is chucked out, the museum will attack Hollywood’s book-to-screen super agents–– façade on!

Museum of Commerce