From a review of "De Kooning: An American Master" in the Washington Times:
[T]here is the tragedy of de Kooning's late years. Beginning around the mid-1980s, de Kooning began exhibiting symptoms of Alzheimer's Disease. Still, he kept painting. What is one to make of these works? Are they heroic strivings in the face of diminishing capacity, a great last flowering like the cutouts of Henri Matisse? Or are they little more than a child's scrawls put down by a man groping his way through a gathering mental twilight?