I had every intention of blogging over the last week of daytripping, but there you go. Last week began with a rare consultation of the new style BBC weather (since altered following the outcry) which implied outdoor stuff would be best done that day. So off we went to Yorkshire Sculpture Park, which has been around for nearly thirty years, but has only really got its act together in the last few thanks to the National Lottery.
That BBC weather map showed a shrunken muddy coloured Yorkshire, but nothing could be further from the truth and the sculpture park is well worth a day of anybody’s time. There’s a strong permanent collection headlined by the Henry Moores in the Country Park, a hillside of Barbara Hepworths, some of the best of Elisabeth Frink and a Gormley stuck in a tree (which we got to via a pleasant but circuitous walk through fields and over the lake). But what had grabbed our attention was the opening of the new underground gallery, which I have to say gives the visitor no sense of being underground at all, which disappointed me. The inaugural show’s a William Turnbull retrospective. Go see.