As I came out of the Tate and walked across the wobbly bridge in drizzly twilight, I was thinking of this - rather than of Gauguin's tropical islands and flowers.

I wasn't wildly keen on the exhibition.

I'd love to have dismantled it and rehung it.

He isn't one of my favourite painters, but I don't think the Tate did him justice. (How sloppy it looked, so many peeling labels. And I know it's now drawing to a close, but people were complaining about the labels a couple of months ago.)

It's a huge exhibition, but I was more engrossed in the letters and photographs than the paintings.

I have a feeling I might have enjoyed the Tate's 1966 exhibition rather more.