Gormley's half-baked guff
Outside the White Cube, an oxidised iron figure leans its head against the brick wall. It resembles an encased mummy and it's positioned as if it might be in some distress.
Perhaps it's taken the wrong turning and has missed the glass doors just to its right, for it does look somewhat forlorn out there on its own.
Inside, arcs of metal rod curve from floor to ceiling, from wall to wall, in continuous strips which form three loosely woven balls through which you can pick your way.
It does remind you a little of a forest clearing, from which, perhaps, the work gets its title. Antony Gormley seems to excite as much derision these days as he does acclaim.
Certainly it's becoming easier to get irritated by him, not just by the work here, but the way he seeks to promote it.
Clearly, he's interested in science, quantum physics and the phenomenology of the body but it's all filtered through some spurious, transcendental language.
And though his work appears accessible - after all it deals with the human body, and what can be more resonant than that? - it's all shrouded in a lot of half-baked guff.
Upstairs, there are three figures, built up from individual steel cubes. One is supine, another crouches in an upright foetal position, while the last stands bold and erect, its feet planted squarely on the ground.
These offer little more than visual clichés for emotions that in turn seek our reverential response.
Until May 29, White Cube, 48 Hoxton Square N1, Tue to Sat 10am to 6pm, free. www.whitecube.com; Tel: 020 7930 5373. Tube: Old Street
