I am particularly grateful to Professor Bertrand Rougé of the University of Pau for his objections to my view of Andy Warhol’s installation at his second exhibition at the Stable Gallery in Manhattan, in April 1964. These appear in The Philosophy of Arthur Danto, in the series The Library of Living Philosophers (The Open Court Press, 2009). My current view of that show owes a great deal to having had to deal with Rougé’s perception. The features of the individual grocery boxes have to be explained with reference to how they should look in supermarket stacks. That concession leaves intact the ontological character of how to account for the differences between the actual boxes of the Lebenswelt— the world of common experience—and the somewhat Futuristic, somewhat design-y, style of the Warhol cartons. Art historically speaking, they are late examples of Arte Metafisica.
Few of the corrections I owe to others have required this degree of rethinking: mostly they have been accepted as gifts, as has their readiness to read my work. I owe an inexpressibly rich debt to David Carrier for a long and searching correspondence. My gratitude to my wonderful colleague, Lydia Goehr, is existential. Alison McDonald has brought a vast art world knowledge to her reading of the text. Noel Carroll has been a constant source of philosophical knowledge and artistic understanding. Richard Kuhns is the indispensable friend of a lifetime: I could not write anything that meant anything without seeking his wisdom and human awareness. I owe to Ti-Grace Atkinson what special knowledge I may have of the devious Valerie Solanas, my sensitivity to the deep issues of feminism—and I cherish the truth that the master painter Sean Scully has never allowed his uncertainty regarding this book’s subject in any way to stand in the way of acknowledging the certainty of his friendship with its author. Finally this book and many of its peers owe their existence to Georges and Anne Borchardt, and their acumen, literary and practical. And for the beauty of her soul, her marvelous sense of comedy, her keen eye and her good sense and the gift of her love, I have been blessed—blessed!—by my marriage with Barbara Westman.