
But Hoyland isn’t alone in this creative rebellion. Surrounding his untamed sculptures are international works by contemporary artists like Eric Bainbridge, Phyllida Barlow and Anna Reading–each bringing their interpretation of hybridity and materiality. Upon entering the exhibition hall, the first thing that grabs attention is Andrew Sabin’s From Time to Time (2018), a humongous sculpture that looms like a prehistoric hybrid, something between a mammoth and an abstract relic from another world. It sets the tone for the other contemporary works, which feel like artifacts from an alien race—otherworldly yet undeniably artistic.
Many pieces incorporate oddly human elements: faces peeking out, a sock-clad leg, disembodied hands reaching into the space. There’s a striking tension between the familiar and the bizarre, amplified by unexpected textures and materials. Glitter, for instance, makes an appearance, adding an almost humorous contrast to the concrete-like quality of some pieces. Hoyland’s sculptures, created in 1994, are displayed across two tables, clustered together like a strange gathering of creatures. Many evoke sea creatures with squid-like tendrils and bulbous shapes, sometimes serpentine, but all seeming to squirm and stretch.

Each surface is just as lively, covered in an explosion of colour: splattered paint, bold stripes and chaotic spots create a sense of movement while the messiness of the paint—the deliberate drips and splashes—makes them feel less like polished sculptures and more like living things caught mid-transformation. It’s wonderfully weird, almost dreamlike, as if stepping into Hoyland’s subconscious and seeing his imagination materialise in three dimensions. Placed alongside the contemporary works, this unruly group of ceramics feels like a precursor to a new generation of sculptural hybrids—setting the stage for a broader conversation about form, play and artistic experimentation.
One of the standout aspects of the exhibition is the sheer amount of space. The layout is refreshingly open, giving each sculpture plenty of breathing room while allowing visitors to move freely between them. Without crowding or visual distractions, their presence is amplified, particularly in the case of Andrew Sabin’s From Time to Time, which feels even more imposing in the generous space. However, while the layout enhances the sense of scale and impact, there’s little in the way of interactive elements. It would have been interesting to see some engagement opportunities beyond just looking—though I did notice that there are select special events, like a pottery workshop inspired by Hoyland’s sculptures and a family activity session.
Still, nothing built directly into the exhibition itself, which feels like a missed opportunity given the playful, tactile quality of the works on display. Visitors can expect a compelling journey through sculpture, where colours clash, shapes contort and the familiar turns strange. These Mad Hybrids is an exhibition that surprises at every turn.
Rating: ★★★★☆
These Mad Hybrids is on display at Millennium Gallery until May 18th