Going lamb bananas!

I have returned from my trip to Liverpool via Aylesbury, Coughton Park, Shawbury, Martin Mere and the Klimt Exhibition, all in a 3-day period. Phew! Everywhere you go in Merseyside at the moment you are likely to see a lamb banana. The original sculpture, bright yellow and standing 17 feet high, was the work of Japanese artist Taro Chiezo. It stood in the Strand in Liverpool as a warning of the dangers of GM foods and celebrated the port's long history of importing goods such as lamb and bananas. My own father worked for Elder Dempster lines and often travelled on the 'banana boats' that ferried the fruit from Lagos.

Now, lamb bananas have proliferated to celebrate Liverpool's position as Capital of Culture 2008. (In my view, it was also Capital of Culture 1965, which was the year I did poetry readings at Samson and Barlow's basement arts club in the 'Pool with celebs such as Paul McCartney's brother, Mike McGear, and Mersey poets Roger McGough, Adrian Mitchell and Brian Patten (who, incidentally, was my very first boyfriend, but that's another story!). There are over 100 lamb bananas scattered around the city, all painted differently. I saw a John Lennon one, one that was patterned with trees and a spotty one. Travellers note: there are two in Lime Street station. I was told there was an escaped one in Euston, but I didn't see it so it is probably gambolling in Hyde Park by now. Many lamb banana anoraks are tracking them down and having their picture taken with every one. As a hobby, it isn't as arduous as 'Monroe Bagging', which involves climbing lots of Scottish mountains, unless the weather is like it was last Saturday when banana boats would have been a very good idea. Lamb banana fans can find a map of their whereabouts at http://info.itvlocal.com/lambymap.shtml

Klimt was brilliant. I had no idea the canvases were so enormous. Neither did I have any idea of how huge Klimt himself was. One of the smocks he painted in was on show and it would have fitted the proverbial brick shithouse! He must have been well over 6 feet tall and 4 feet broad. Yet his artwork required the sensitivity of a poet and the delicate fingerwork of an embroiderer. What a genius.