An Op Art original

0 Comments | Philadelphia Inquirer, The, January, 2007 | by Amy S. Rosenberg

In the '60s, she was making art that was part of the psychedelic fabric of its day, mind-blowing optical trickery, paintings that vibrated and moved, art that anticipated a digital medium few had imagined. But Edna Andrade was no hippie, no part of the like-wow drug culture that embraced the op art movement of the 1960s.

She was middle-aged, living on her own on Carlisle Street in Center City, her architect husband having left her, isolated from the New York or European art scene, no starving waitress thing for her, no East Village bohemia. "My cleaning lady was the only person allowed to clean in the studio," Andrade says. "When she would come in and say, whooah, I knew it was good." Now, on the eve of her 90th birthday, it is, frankly, the ladies in the cafeteria of her...