I loved this book, but that wasn’t surprising because I love Robert Rauschenberg. This reads a lot like you’re listening to a lecture at an art museum, with background biographical information about the artist, along with art criticism, and corresponding photos of the work. I got this book from the library, but I’m definitely feeling tempted to buy a copy. Rauschenberg’s work is like that- you can come back to it over and over again. You only “get it” for flashes at a time. You know you love it, but you can never quite put your finger on why you love it so much.