{"version":"1.0","type":"rich","provider_name":"Bj\u00f6rk.fr \u2013 Site francophone d\u00e9di\u00e9 \u00e0 Bj\u00f6rk : musique, clips et actualit\u00e9s","provider_url":"https:\/\/www.bjork.fr","title":"guardian.co.uk","author_name":"benjicok","width":"480","height":"315","url":"http:\/\/www.bjork.fr\/quardian-co-uk","html":"\u003Ch4 class='title'\u003E\u003Ca href='http:\/\/www.bjork.fr\/quardian-co-uk'\u003Eguardian.co.uk\u003C\/a\u003E\u003C\/h4\u003E\u003Cblockquote class='spip'\u003E\n\u003Cp\u003EHe\u2019s the Damien Hirst of the American art scene, respected and lambasted in equal measure. But his epic films featuring genital close-ups and Vaseline sculptures are as baffling as they are engaging. On the eve of his new show at the Serpentine Gallery, Matthew Barney reveals all to Sean O\u2019Hagan \n\u003Cbr class='autobr' \/\u003E\n The night before his first New York exhibition in 1991, Matthew Barney performed what he calls an \u2019action\u2019. Having locked himself into the Gladstone Gallery in Chelsea, he took off his clothes and (\u2026)\u003C\/p\u003E\n\u003C\/blockquote\u003E\n"}