of the Monger Art Gallery; Halifax.
On entering the gallery I was struck with the strong
sense of foreboding that accompanies the work of so
many artists. As I passed the mummified kipper I was
thinking about how we humans are rather like kippers,
sitting in the fridge waiting to be smeared with butter
and eaten, when I was suddenly confronted by Hans
Beinricht’s work ‘The
Sink’ an installation in the form of
a sink which occasionally emitted a tape recorded
fart, which I believe the artist recorded from his
own anal emissions. It is a humbling work of great
importance which reflects the societal need for monetary
wealth while at the same time extolling the values
of truth and smiling.
Having stared at the Beinricht for some minutes I
moved onward to a larger room in which was hung the
three huge canvasses of Radlett’s
triptych ‘No Booze’ in
which the misery of living under a Thatcherite regime
is expressed almost polemically through the use of
oils and bull semen. Strongly evoking the miners strike
and poll tax riots of the nineteen eighties it is
to be approached with great care.
At this point in the exhibition I bumped into an old
friend and we wept together for some
minutes before embracing and continuing onto the third
room of this gallery.
Lying in the centre of this room was the wax figure
of a naked man, (Dead Naked Man by
Phillip Mews) which was incredibly detailed; the only
indication that this wasn’t a corpse was the
penis; a tiny Hitler. Both I and
my friend believed this was a representation of the
desire to throw off the shackles of reasoned argument
and return to the pugilistic tradition of our forebears.
As I walked away from the gallery, occasionally stopping
as cars wound around and past me, I felt renewed,
it was as if my soul had been fed with a big bottle
of cultural milk. It is an experience I strongly advise
you to take. However leave the kids at home, there
is a chance of molestation in the
‘We like pink arses’ instalation.
Toodle pip for now.