It was time for me to go to experience it for myself; I imagined it would be different in person –Eager for it to take me over like an all-consuming rock concert.
I was expecting to be suddenly hit by a thunderbolt of artistic awareness, but all I saw was a normal guy sitting on a deckchair, drinking a beer, reading the paper; which, I can assure you -didn’t awaken my inner soul at all. Despondently I trudged off to the National Gallery, until the next ‘performer’ was due; maybe this would stimulate my senses of sculpture and art.
A while later, after a few more depressing, dull plinthers, it was time to drown myself in a cup of tea, I still didn’t get it! The final straw followed my cultural break, the new plinther appeared to be reading a book! I clearly wasn’t going to find what I was looking for, so I promptly proceeded to the Tate Britain for some suitable artistic culture.
Obviously a glutton for punishment, I persevered with my watch on the 4th plinth. Astonishingly a few of the plinthers have entertained me, educated me, and indeed charmed me. I realised that I should be seeing this as a whole, for exactly what it is, a representation of the British public – that we are all slightly eccentric and completely bonkers, but above all we like to have fun.