The huge neon sign "Mothers", twelve and a half metres long with letters two and a half metres high, spinning round at variable speeds, is in honour of motherhood. To quote Creed "when you're small, your mother is always really big."
The 1,000 broccoli prints are gorgeous and the impact of seeing them displayed together is a visual feast. According to the exhibition guide, the individual prints were made with different heads of broccoli and all the paints Creed could find. I wish I had thought of doing them first!
There were some exhibits which show the artist's love of organisation - stacked chairs, tables, cardboard boxes and cacti displayed according to height. This is also evident in the iron beams and wooden planks, neatly arranged according to size, and his paintings of ziggurats.
The exhibit with 39 metronomes was joyful, each being set to a different tempo. And the car on one of the sculpture terraces had a life of its own, with doors, boot and bonnet opening and closing, and Radio 4 playing loudly. There was a piano in the main hall with a security guard sitting at it. He picked out all the notes with one finger, stopped and left. Speaking with one of his colleagues, I learnt that the artist showed some of the guards exactly what to do and explained that while they were playing the piano they were not members of staff but part of the artwork. I tried discussing this with the guard who had been playing but the concept was lost on him.
I enjoyed this show, which was thought-provoking, playful, shocking and beautiful.