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Art Int'l,
May-72

Barbara Chase Riboud's sculptures—one is a nine-foot high conglomeration of sensuously-damaged bronze forms skirted with cascades of silken ropes, braids and tassels—drawings and jewels (Parsons) are freakish, but tasteful. Or, perhaps, their tastefulness in the service of a certain fetishistic sensuality is their freakishness. At any rate, the luxurious decadence of their materials is nicely offset by their monumentality (which is, in some strange way, their tastefulness), exoticism carried to heroic proportions proving to be some more genuinely odd something else again.