I went to the Henry Moore exhibition at Tate Britain over the weekend and thought I should publish a photo of him. No, I jest. This Henry Moore is from the 47th New York Infantry during the American Civil War. Our Henry Moore came from Yorkshire. His sculptures, Recling Figures and Mothers and Child, with small heads and unexpected holes, were everywhere when I was growing up; his great period coincided with the creation of new public spaces around Le Corbusian buildings which needed something to cheer them up -- not that Moore's work was desperately cheering, but it was undeniably Art. My parents' generation loved them. Naturally they were something for the younger me to rebel against, but I've come round to them since visiting hist studio in Hertfordshire a couple of years ago, and seeing the knobbly flints and seaworn shells that inspired him. Thirty years after everyone else I've got the point.
My 14 year old son likes him; his 9-year-old brother tugged me round the exhibition, saying they are all the same. He's got a point, I suppose.