Joel-Peter Witkin’s work is disturbing. He seems obsessed with death, callousness, vulgarity, the bizarre, the freakish. As if there were answers there. I’m not sure what he expected to find. His work is the opposite of Hallmark cards. No. It is the opposite of naive art. It is also curious. And for a brief moment, interesting. Some of it is clever. But it seems overwhelmed by ego. Vanity. If you can get that out of the way, you can enjoy it.