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Browsing through back issues of The New Yorker we found quite a gem in the category “Galleries-Dowtown” that’s part of the publication’s listings section. They write in February this year about an Adrià solo show:

Ferran Adrià. The Drawing Center has an admirable history of expanding the boundaries of the medium, but it abandons them altogether in this exhibition, the latest proof that food has supplanted high culture in the estimation of the Instagram class. Adrià, he of the liquid-nitrogen flan at the defunct Spanish restaurant El Bulli, may or may not be the most inventive chef of the age, but the El Bulli artifacts here – notes and lists, pseudoscientific flowcharts, architectural models of the chef’s workshop- are humdrum at best. Even worse are the products of Adirà’s artistic pretensions, such as sixty crayon drawings, executed on restaurant stationery like a tenth-grade Martin Kippenberger, purporting to chart a “theory of culinary evolution.”

If you couldn’t agree more with this evaluation, have a look at Jeffrey Swartz article “Stop Calling it art” published in BCN Més’ October issue.