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Around the Galleries: A Quick Round-up of the new Exhibitions
by Michael Kelly

Young Lions at the Marwood

(July 9th–Sep 3rd)

Graham Houellebecq works with bacilli to create an environment in which the visitor will start to feel nauseous and catarrhal.

In the main hall Terry Dibbock has placed his grandmother in a tub of eels. An amiable old lady with a fund of pithy stories, she creates an atmosphere of cheery optimism and World War Two retro-chic. See this one soon before she eats all the eels.

Media attention, however, is bound to focus on Legolas Pinchbeck's new work. He has taken a Morris Minor and fitted it with a wing-mirror from an Austin Allegro, to devastating effect. Is the Morris Minor still a Morris Minor or has it now become something else? Be warned that you are unlikely to emerge from contact with this powerful object without questioning your own identity.

In the South room Norman Brentquist exposes himself to a cat. Its look of polite interest is instructive to behold.

nu-departures at the Spod


Jared Smee has placed two shoe-horns in the middle of a barn-like space to create a mood of quiet despair.

Sid Barnabas has underlined a word in a copy of War and Peace. Visitors are invited to browse it and discover for themselves which one and where. I will not spoil the surprise here, but suffice it to say that fans of Natasha will not be disappointed.

Greg Pontiac, creator of such disquieting works as last year's Fuzzy-Felt Nativity and Madonna with Space-Hopper, has made an astonishing tableau recreating the crucifixion with Care Bears. The expression of blithe innocence on the face of the centurion bear, mindlessly content in the knowledge of a job well done, will haunt my dreams for months to come.

14-year-old wunderkind Josh Sumner, brought to the attention of the art establishment by an alert teacher, has drawn phalluses in the hands or mouths of all the people pictured in a history textbook. This work has already been sold to Saatchi for £800,000.

Wherefore Art? at Hanover Street

(July 12th–Aug 3rd)

Jena Oldenburg has made tea-cosies out of old Spandau Ballet albums. She will make someone a thrifty and resourceful wife.

Richard Cliff's latest opus is a must see. He has painstakingly reproduced the Mona Lisa out of worms painted different colours. Most days he can be found standing nearby yelling at them to keep still.

In the main foyer a tramp swigs from a bottle of cologne and attempts to inveigle you into singing 'Danny Boy' with him. If this is an installation it is bold; if not, it is rather annoying.

X-(in)hibitions at the Prince Regent

(July 7th–Aug 24th)

Lachesis Stroud's new show Look At My ______ follows on from her moving pieces Pictures of my ______ and Video of a Journey Up My ______. Stroud lies naked and spreadeagled on the floor saying, 'Look, look, I have a ______, look at it.' Visitors are encouraged to poke her with a speculum or anything else that comes to hand.

Interactivity is also encouraged in the next display Look At All The Things I Can Shove Up My Bottom, where Doug Lubeck smilingly asks visitors to choose or donate an object for him to insert into his rectum. I find this is a good place to leave a cumbersome umbrella while touring the rest of the gallery.

Bodo Pliskin, meanwhile, has collected panties from thirteen-year-old girls and applied bodily fluids to them. An artist of this calibre cannot remain Broadmoor's secret for long.