It feels potent with the absence of the daddy of psychoanalysis; his study was particularly arresting, all those sculptures lined up on his desk, the chair pushed back, glasses placed on some papers – it felt they wanted to capture an essence of an absence. My desperate need to defecate, after a morning of good strong coffees, felt strangely appropriate! The installation of Christy Brown’s sculptures was less alluring than I had imagined them to be. I liked the suggested narratives of fairytales, childhood and antiquity but found the crudeness of their construction disruptive; I wanted more care/ finish to them.

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