I WENT TO see the Turner prize contenders at Tate Britain this week and discovered Catherine Yass. Her subtle exploration of perhaps the deepest of human contradictions - desire to fly, fear of falling - is one of the most moving works I have seen within what you call Britart and what, in her case, I consider just art.
The big screen showed an impressionist painting that entranced me with its suggestive, misty colours projected from the still life of a building. Every second the frame changed into a different version of the same landscape and, although I knew the end of the story and was almost sick with vertigo, I still wanted to keep falling.
Art should be defined by the artists themselves and it is not for me, as a journalist, to pontificate on that concept. However, being also a life model and a witness to many creative processes, I have developed my preferences. I have seen wonderful transformations from a technically perfect drawing of a body to a personal, unique interpretation of it, which might appear to some eyes, as the minister Kim Howells put it, to be "bullshit". …