How many ways can you scratch at the overbearing pompousness of China's central politburo? Switch the pervasive menace of that state for the pomp of Blenheim and here's the perfect setting for the biggest pieces.

His chandelier is gauche, bling, huge, and tasteless; surely it fits in a Dubai hotel lobby. But then, it's poking fun at exactly that, and suddenly it's both beautiful and elegant. 1.7 tons of glass beads fill the tall entrance hall with light and a soft tinkle; it has a light laughter to it (the staff love it).

His craftsmanship is in absolute reverence to aeons of Chinese skill. The melons are exquisite, the plates, the essentially blue-green colours, the construction of the wooden pieces. It's all inalienably Chinese and 'cultural' but, like an outline map of China cut from slabs of dark wood, there is a subtle point behind everything. That map, all of six foot wide, simply tells one that China is just a little bit of the earth, and begs the void around it. He never lets up.

And lastly there's the fingers, fine, but the good folk at Blenheim hid the essential finger right at the end of the set. Hid it, perhaps because Blenheim also hosts a few coachloads of Chinese tourists a day, and watching them watching this is plenty of fun.

If Blenheim can keep this up, it will become our Versailles, but the edge on this will be hard to follow.