It was the first exhibition of female Pop Art and is now to be seen, I believe, at Brooklyn Museum’s Elizabeth A. Sackler Center for Feminist Art, although I can’t see it on their web site as yet.

This Times Square inspired ‘Ampersand IV’, is a stylized neon ampersand in a Plexiglas cube by Chryssa, one of the first artists to utilize neon in her work in 1965.

Mara McAfe’s ‘Marvelous Modern Mechanical Men’ harks back to Art Deco.

But I think my favourite is Black Rosie by Niki de Saint Phalle. Eight foot tall, this colourful, lumpy, playful figure glorifies woman’s roles without the usual half naked predilections.

Untitled by George Baselitz

Sir Joshua Reynolds by John Henry Foley

Sculpture Remixed is one the rooms in the DLA Piper Series : This is Sculpture at the Tate Liverpool. Was my favourite. Very cleverly mixed pieces contrasting each other. Take the John Henry Foley sculpture of Sir Joshua Reynolds. Amazing marble detail, glorious stuff to see up close.

And next to it an untitled piece by George Baselitz.

One made by one of the hardest stones and looking so soft and delicate I wanted to pull his cloak back to keep it out of the way of his palette. The other with no aspirations of deceit. It’s a figure coarsely made of wood, no disguising the material.

You had to enter through blackout curtains. It made me feel this was a private place – not yet ready for the public. Lots of contradictions. This was the first of the rooms that had a dark purple background, and pieces more noticeably lit with spot lights.

We were greeted by two machine workers, scared to death by two Redeemers and entertained by Degas’s beautiful Little Dancer.

Ghost

But perhaps the most spooky for me was Ghost. She’s an enormous seven foot tall teenager, gangly and evasive. She was ultra-realistic. I so wanted to touch her, or tidy back the strand of hair that had fallen forward.

Here she’s pictured on a white background, but in the gallery with the darker colours and spotlight, she seems even more vulnerable.

This is what irritated me so many years before. Conceptual art that was up its own arse. And I was about to fly off into a deluge of abuse when we were accosted by an incredibly polite and chatty gallery attendant who said…” Oh yes. You’ve seen this one before? It’s all about faith…” I get a bit twitchy when people start discussing anything remotely religious – especially when we’ve not been formally introduced. But he continued on, “Yes, well I think so. It’s about how people take things on faith and will look up to anything that’s set above them…”

Oak Tree is a glass of water on a glass shelf about seven feet high. So you do have to look up to it. Both of us had our interest piqued, so we took time to (not look at – as there really is nothing to see) read the ‘printed text’. I hadn’t given this glance before. And now, with this guy’s insights and more open attitude we read and understood a little more. We both appreciated the tongue in cheek Q & A description from the artist. This time I came away with a smirk and a realisation that I hadn’t done what I often preach, which is to, stand back and question what the artist is really asking us to think about. There was a fairly obvious clue in the positioning of the piece.  And it does follow the Duchamp declaration that any existing object can be declared a work of art. We really shouldn’t take anything too seriously.

It still begs the question, why should we have art explained to us? If it doesn’t communicate something immediately, then surely it has failed – especially if I have to read about it to get its message?

I still wouldn’t put it up on my wall in my home.