A shiny pink intestine sits on the Charles-de-Fitte Avenue in Toulouse, reaching out of the ground to an overpowering height. I’ve always had the feeling that the museum curators don’t call it the intestine, but Toulousains certainly do.
It’s a handy landmark for giving directions – and it symbolizes the entrance to Toulouse’s museum of modern art, on the former site of the city’s abattoirs. Hence its name – Les Abattoirs - and also, perhaps, the inspiration for the sculpture.
The exhibits inside change frequently – from eyeballs on high chairs to glow-in-the-dark gimp suits, single coloured panels to animated videos – but the intestine is always there.