In art, the past is better, as you claim in your editorial (“The Past is Better,” No. 65, February 2007). No quarrels here. But the past was better even in the past, for at least a thousand years. Just as you are not thrilled by much of the Twentieth Century, most of the Nineteenth leaves me cold, in spite of the palpable prowess of its main protagonists. The Eighteenth Century fares only slightly better in this regard. And so on down the line, all the way to the early Renaissance. A few leading protagonists of that debauched age do thrill me, I must admit, but real thrills are still deeper in the past—in the Middle Ages. In my mind, the reason for this is quite simple: beyond the Renaissance, artists deferred to art, rather than the other way around. That is, they deferred to the community of which they were part. Thus they went nameless, as was only appropriate for those who served others without ulterior motives of any kind. If this is correct, the future might again be good, or at least better than the present, but at the cost of renunciation of the Renaissance spirit of individualism that is still among us. It is the damned signature that ruins all art.