Yet is it possible to maintain a viable culture if the communion with Others keeps the silent terror of the variability of meaning caged up and alive in the middle of the artifact? Can the malleable work of art open the human heart so that the Self can display the kindness and generosity it needs to welcome that wild and beastly Other into the City, even if a common language, history, values, or cultural sensibilities does not exist between them? Kutazov's technique appears to leave the Self and Other at a (linguistic) stand-off in which complex communication and deeper understanding may have been rendered unachievable.