Moore's assistant Anthony Caro, on the other hand, pioneered work that was thoroughly transatlantic in tone. His massive steel works, often in primary colours, are the sculptural equivalent of American Abstract Impressionism. If there was a coherent line between Epstein, Moore and, for example, Richard Deacon, then Caro proved that British sculpture could also be thoroughly un-British, too. 

Indeed, what this exhibition shows, for all the intriguing — and occasionally coincidental — confluences of theme, is that with a few exceptions (the landscape art of Richard Long, for example) there is really no such entity as "modern British sculpture". The diversity of ethnicity and influence that shaped the rest of the British 20th century shaped its sculpture too. After all, Epstein was a Polish-American and our most celebrated living sculptor, Anish Kapoor (an artist not in this show, however), is Anglo-Indian. That is quintessential modern Britain.

Disparateness is also the theme of the major display of the work of the contemporary Mexican artist Gabriel Orozco at Tate Modern (from January 19). Orozco is a playful creator who works in many styles and many mediums — sculpture, photography, video and installations — and he is hard to categorise. His work has no signature look but is marked by a sense of humour, a use of found objects and a delight in pattern-making.

His is an abstract art that deals with reality, playing games with the objective by altering it. In its multiplicity it reflects something of the surfeit of visual information in modern society. Orozco's professed aim is not just the objects themselves "but what people see after looking at these things, how they confront reality again". It is worth taking him at his word.