I’ve just been reminded of something I wrote on a art gallery style label on a wall in my flat back in 2000. It seems to have made it into the annals of history, which is good, because I was particular content with the humour at the time.
Capturing the barren gestait of the early millennium, WALL echoes the concerns of the populus. Is this a masterpiece, delicately weaving fibre with sensuality; or a savagely graphic incarnation of the resurrection of non-transparency? Dowding, 2000