I’LL be surprised if anyone denies that most “public art’ is unwanted in the first place and remains unloved thereafter.

The Angel of the North conformed to the first part of that pattern. Though it has its critics, it has defied the second part. But in proving an exception to the rule, it has much to answer for.

Everywhere now wants its own ‘Angel’ – a piece of public art that makes a similar impact.

In the North this desire is most peculiar.

For the vital point about the Angel is that it is “of the North.’ It is not the Angel of Gateshead, Newcastle or Tyneside.

From the Midlands southwards the Angel is seen as spreading its wings over the entire North. It is certainly not viewed as a North- East structure, envied by Yorkshire.

But Leeds laments that it didn’t commission a huge Brick Man, which would have been its Angel. An alternative Yorkshire Angel, a colossal abstract structure, is now proposed for near the Humber Bridge.

Until public outrage (rightly) triumphed, Scarborough looked destined to have an Angel in the form of a supposed wave – scimitar- like strips of stainless steel breaking above the much-loved Marine Drive.

Getting closer to the real Angel, Durham County Council erected its boundary tower near Sedgefield as a stated rival to the Angel.

Not content with its Cathedral and Castle, which form one of the finest urban skyscapes in the world, Durham City believes it needs an Angel, which happens to be a wok.

Now, belatedly the Tees Valley is pursuing this needless need to match the Angel. The inferiority complex always suffered by this sub-region is mirrored in the emphasis on the “gigantic’’ size of the series of planned sculptures.

If they dwarf the Angel, and there’s more of them, they must have greater impact, mustn’t they?

Of course not. In capturing the public’s imagination and becoming a widely-known symbol, the Angel is a considerable rarity – a fluke even, I’m tempted to say. The cost of the Tees Giants would be far better spent caring for the existing fabric, particularly threatened historic buildings. For these usually command the public affection very seldom felt for “public art”.

USUALLY on the side of the angels when it comes to conservation, the National Trust is slipping up at Fountains Abbey. Its slavishness to the original vision of the creator of the famous water gardens has persuaded it to remove the island in the centre of the lake.

The Trust insists the island is of no benefit to wildlife. Maybe. But if a former island had vanished, the Trust would doubtless be planning to re-create it.

WHEN a reckless cyclist who killed a teenage girl was fined, much was made of the 14-year jail sentence he would have faced had he been a motorist. But how often is this maximum, or anything approaching it, imposed? Scarcely ever.

The other day a 23-year-old lap dancer was convicted of killing another woman driver by smashing into her car at 95mph while chatting on her mobile phone and twice over the drink-drive limit. For this fatal triple whammy she received just six years in jail. What would she have had to have done to receive the full 14 years?