Chagall’s Four Seasons mosaic is remarkably similar to his paintings; It’s watery colours leaking outside their tiled bounds.
Calder’s Flamingo is calming, and draws me under it. It’s orange-red beams soft and inviting, mirrored in the surrounding black modernist cube buildings.
Miró’s Chicago is a queen who looks north with two wide-open eyes. Her crown has points like waves and it floats above her steel head. Arms outstretched, she welcomes visitors to take a closer look. Under the rough concrete exterior, you can find pockets of colourful tiles, a nod to the gems in Chicago’s architecture.
The Picasso, though untitled, is unmistakably a horse. Its long nose and nostrils are not the only indicator. Fourteen ribs traverse the space within it. At its rear, the shape evokes a pelvis and from it, a large base angles downward. Visitors mount it freely and ride down its smooth brown-black structure. Its ears tilt backwards as it stands still and listens to Chicago.