But they had Chagall's violinist, and enough video art and installations that some of it was really cool: a wall covered with little fairies cut out from glamour postcards, displayed white-side out, features embroidered on or punched out with a needle, pinned to the wall and tangled with coloured thread; a constellation of video monitors hanging in space showing tiny, stuttering loops of quaking action, mostly human, but including a fragment of earthquake simulation; people walking, dream-like, through a collapsing building; three cubist works (including a Picasso still life) set in a room containing vivid canvasses painted in repeating patterns against aggressively striped wallpaper (Ellé described the overall effect as "epilepsy-inducing"). And there's that guy shaking his cock at his fluffy purple dinosaur again.
But, unfortunately I can't say who anything I liked was by as the signage was minimal and sporadic, the museum guide was a single, grudging, sheet, and the postcard selection bore no relation to their actual collection. Still, at least we found out where they hide the stressed ones.
