Carl Andre is a scavenger. On Friday nights, before the Manhattan neighbourhood where he has lived for 30 years became gentrified, he used to walk the streets, picking up shards of discarded metal from outside machine shops. Occasionally, he was stopped by the police.
"It's scrap," he would say when challenged. "It has no value." To which a member of the NYPD once remarked, like a character from Beckett, "If it has no value, why do you want it?"