Art review Sculptor's work shines amid mediocre show

As you enter the galleries, you can't avoid the slobbish giant. Maybe it is drunk or drugged as it towers and slumps, a red and brown creature with a demonic face and sagging stomach.

- Jonathan Jones

If the cord suspending it from the ceiling snapped, it would just be a pile of hemp on the floor.

This monster has all the qualities that make the art of Mrinalini Mukherjee, who was born in Mumbai in 1949 and died in 2015, funny, fascinating and surreal. She created it in 1985, using, as with many of her works, tightly woven, intensely coloured natural fibres. It is called Pakshi, meaning bird, and now I see it: the feathery flanks and floppy wings.

Mukherjee's sculpture is a hallucinatory but sharply observed response to nature, full of echoes of India's landscape and, in this case, its skies. If a bird can become an ogre in her fantastic imagination, a flower can grow into a fat, sprawling, bloodied excrescence and a tree transmute into gold.