I CHOOSE to consider writing as a useless labor, apolitical and of little moral significance. Urged on by some base inspiration, I confess I would experience a kind of pleasure at being proved wrong. A guilty pleasure, since it would be at the expense of the victims, those who thought I was right. For Tino Sehgal, other people's writing on his work would appear to function as notary to the juggernaut that is the artist's career, a kind of amicus brief in which the content is irrelevant so long as its signature achieves the necessary gravitas. All that really matters in this moment of writing, then, is that the proper name, Tino Sehgal, and the proper place, the Guggenheim, be printed in tandem on 220.5 square inches of coated paper within the binding of this issue of Artforum. It should also be recorded that the Guggenheim's rotunda and ramp were devoid of inanimate art objects for the duration of the show, the first time in the museum's history that it was both open to the public and "empty." Instead, Frank Lloyd Wright's architecture provided the format for two of Sehgal's choreographic artworks, This Progress, 2006, and Kiss, 2002. As is always the case with Sehgal's works, both pieces were enacted by amateur actors (Sehgal refers to them as interpreters), willing participants selected through personal referrals and casting calls, carefully rehearsed, and stage-directed throughout the show. Last, it's important that something be printed on the verso and recto of these two pages, including consecutive page numbers in a consistent font, as verification that the pages are authentic, authentic even if they were to become separated from their binding several hundred years from now should some catastrophe befall the Library of Congress. As the writer of this text, I have a lot of leeway. But the one thing I can't do is introduce any doubt--now or forever--that Tino Sehgal had a one-person show at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York, in the year 2010.