Tate Liverpool

I think the time has come for a few words about our trip to Liverpool. Undoubtedly for me the highlight was our visit to the Tate. As you know that was one of primary reasons for going there in the first place.

The Seagram Murals were among Rothko's last works before he committed suicide in 1970. There is something quite dark, oppressive & reflective of despair in these works. Indeed in one the pictures the red almost seems to seep out of the picture like blood. I don't think I could spend all day in the room with them, certainly in the subdued lighting as specified by Rothko himself, without feeling pretty suicidal. That's not to say there isn't some cheer in them. There's a tremendous sense of movement in the divides between the blocks of colour. They certainly make for a powerful collection. I'm pleased we've seen them.

Afterwards we went upstairs to look at some of the "DLA Piper Series: T/his is Sculpture" exhibition. We wandered round. The first room, painted fuchsia, was full of works by artists known & unknown to us. Some did little for us. Duchamps urinal remains just that as far as I'm concerned. Equally the "Lobster Telephone" & one of Andy Warhol's Campbell soup pictures do little for me. But others were wonderful.

The first work that caught my eye was a work by a Russian sculptor whose name means nothing to me. It was of a woman's head made in metal planes. The tenderness of that face, especially the lips was remarkable.

I fought done a desperate urge to handle the smooth curves of one of Barbara Hepworth's works. It looked a bit like a cracked giant conker. The outside was burnished a deep brown. The split a wonderful curve of creamy white. The curve so sensual, so seductive. The texture inside almost cork-like, outside so smooth. Beautiful.

Undoubtedly one of the most life-affirming items was Yoyoi Kusama's "Polka Dot". This large cube in metal, mirrored inside & out, had various smaller circles, polka dots, cut out. As you looked through the holes you saw a whole world of polka dots, some revealing the fuchsia colour of the walls of the room. Move your head a bit & the polka dot moved too, almost dancing before your eyes. We looked together through different sides, seeing each other's faces in the dots. We couldn't help laughing & feeling cheered.

By this time we were feeling too emotionally drained to go much further. As each visited the loo, the other looked quickly round the yellow room & the jade room. I discovered later we were both stunned & reacted in similar ways to one painting. Neither of us had expected it. Even though we both knew it in reproduction, it had never particularly struck us with any great force. The work? Picasso's "Weeping Woman". The sheer pathos of that face brought tears to the eyes as you felt she wept with grief for all the pain of all the world.

We hastily escaped back to the cafe before exiting back to Liverpool. We thought we'd have a break & maybe return another time to see some of the rest of the Tate & that exhibition. There was still another floor to go & the jade room we hadn't looked too carefully around. As it turned out we never did. But I would recommend anyone to make a visit to see the exhibitions if you have chance.