Cy Twombly at the Bozar

Irritatingly, taking photographs is prohibited within the confines of the exhibition but then again perhaps it's a good thing - forcing you to concentrate all the more on what is there before your eyes.

As you walk through into the main salles there's a large, square black canvas (I thought initially it was slate) with a chalked window motif running left to right and increasing in size. Stunning. Approach closer and you see the patina, the erasures and underpaintings.

On another wall among some photographs is an Untitled with - at a distance - little for the eye to grasp onto. Closer up and there is the usual scatter of marks and crudescences of paint. (I used the word 'crudesence' assuming it existed but the SOED draws a blank. Well, it exists now). Off centre is one of those Twombly moments: when paint glob and obliteration and flick of crayon work to play depth with surface. Signature.

In the bookshop they're flogging a catalogue for 34 euros but I've got my bumper book of Twombly at home. Instead, I take photographs in the museum corridors by way of souvenirs.

Walking out onto the street and - of course - the exhibition continues on every wall and paving stone.

The mark of a great artist: he educates your eyes in seeing the world anew.

& it's free entry to that exhibition.

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