ABSTRACT
Youngish and portly in a dark suit and dark glasses, Ivan Karp flourished a cigar and paced or, at a minimum, jiggled on his heels, while spouting a filigreed commentary on form, style, trends, and the sociopolitical import of it all. With a passing and not entirely ironic reference to his "acute perception," he would talk of the United States as "a world-cultural power," of "the establishment," of "force and conviction," and the "alienation" responsible for everything from the hysteria at rock concerts to the "gothic behavior" of the fifties painters. Karp's conversation worked like an updraft; it lofted listeners into a stratosphere where all was cloudy but shot through with light.
