I popped in to the Lynn Chadwick exhibition at Blain Southern on my way back from work last night.   It complements a display of his more monumental pieces in the Royal Academy courtyard.   I remember going to Nether Lypiatt, Chadwick’s Gloucestershire estate, and bombing round in a Land Rover looking at works, aliens in a lost magic valley.   His works have not lost their strangeness, like anthropods from a third world:  ungainly beasts, half naturalistic and half space age.   He is nowhere half so well remembered as Hepworth and Moore, but it’s good that we’re being encouraged to look at the work again.