The Art of Charles Ray: In the Eye of the Beholder

A tortured, misunderstood, critically acclaimed, critically disputed, learning-disabled artist who suffered from a difficult childhood fixates on mundane street events and can’t be concerned with dressing himself (“Master of the Double Take,” by Kristine McKenna, July 26).

Are you sure that wasn’t David Helfgott on the cover?

Sharon Chan

Orange

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Your cover story on “Southern California’s hottest artist,” Charles Ray, took pretentiousness to a new level. As I read it, I had to keep checking that it wasn’t April Fool’s Day. Ray could be the poster child.

Anyone who agrees that an eight-foot mannequin in a pink suit is a “famous” art piece needs his or her head tested--even more so, the idiot who shelled out $1.2 million for this unbelievable nonsense.

Now, having had my laugh for the week (maybe longer), I must get back to my fiberglass sculpture of a 10-foot jester in spectacles masquerading as a giant cucumber pretending to be an artist.

Sandie Conley

Palmdale