When Joseph Beuys died, earlier this year, the question arose as to what would happen to his reputation now that he himself was no longer around. With his unforgettable appearance, his status as the ultimate antiestablishment man in an ever more conformist age and the beautiful open courtesy with which he would treat those who sought to make mock of him, he was the indispensable leaven in a world that,… [+]

747 January 5, 1973. Los Angeles, California. At about 8 am at a beach near the Los Angeles International Airport, I fired several shots with a pistol at a Boeing 747.