Presented in a cruciform cabinet
with shades of the Confessional,
Cruz Vestido draws us into an
exotic world of the bizarre
and the beautiful.

Colin Holme (or Colin Void for those of us with longer memories) has been popping up every now and then to thrill us with his fantastical camp creations for a few years now. His occasional extravaganza's (in between bouts of television and theatre work) have dazzled Garlands, The Liverpool Biennial and a host of clubnights and awards ceremonies on and off the traditional Liverpool ‘scene’.

This year's installation “Cruz Vestido" (that's "Cross-Dress" for the non-Iberian inclined) is a meditation on camp, transvestitism, our worship at the shrine of glamour and the very human need for nostalgia. Pulsing fairground lights and the seedy glow of red neon, shimmering gold and glitter (a bit of a trademark media for the artist) and an entire battalion of glossy, sensual, athletic Spanish dancers in exotic, erotic and athletic poses, dressed in many layers of faded, seedy, dusty silk, dance to their own flamenco tune.

Presented in a cruciform cabinet with shades of the Confessional, Cruz Vestido draws us into an exotic world of the bizarre and the beautiful. It almost put me in mind of the Victorian curiosity cabinets, where tiny taxidermy mice and kittens dressed in breeches and waistcoats play eternal games for the observers delight. The painted faces of the Spanish dolls parody femininity.

It's only a coincidence that the eternal born-again painted Spanish doll, the totally-teak Ms Beckham, has named her youngest Cruz, isnt it...?

Viva España!