The wild frozen and barren wastelands of the north, also known as Yorkshire, is the focus of today’s visit, specifically the Yorkshire Sculpture Park. Located just off the M1 motorway at West Bretton near Wakefiled, Yorkshire Sculpture Park is set in 500 acres of rolling rural lands and freezing fresh air as we study stylish sculpture in snowfall.
Stepping out the car, we know we’ve arrived in Yorkshire as our northern cousins feel the need to broadcast at 100 decibels as the ferret legging freaks slog snowballs….”Ee by eck its froz yuth.” Leaving aside the social stereotypes, we venture down the estate, or “darn t’state” which is more difficult that you can imagine, its paths of pure mud, as if those tight fisted Yorkshire folk had spent all their money on flat caps and whippets instead of tarmac. Maps and signposts are vague at best.
Silhouetted in the snow are stylistic shapes and sculptures by famous artists including Henry Moore, Julian Opie, KAWS and Anthony Caro. But I’m not having a great time here. The fact is I don’t understand outdoor sculpture and I’m having a hard time understanding how rusty iron pieces, bronze busts and breeze block buildings, even chopped up trees made into steps are being considered as art. It kind of reminds me of a giant version of The Great Pottery Throwdown where a contestant haphazardly splashed paint all over a piece of pottery and a judge cried over it because he loved it. I just thought he was taking the piss, just like the car parking fee of £8. It’s not for me.