I got hold of this book, Emily Dickinson and Contemporary Art. It's a catalogue from an exhibition they had at Amherst a few years back. Fairly interesting visually, but verbally flat, both in the porfolio of poems they drew together (Richard Wilbur,great!) and in the essays. There is a kind of "art-speak" I don't identify with at all. if I were to write about art I wouldn't write like that. I don't know what I'd do, but it wouldn't be that... The art was postmodern but the poetry was anti-modern. A familiar story.