Modern Art Oxford is currently housing three fantastic exhibitions.

I have now visited three times without feeling as though I have seen it all. On walking into Katie Paterson's exhibition Encounters, a version of Moonlight Sonata plays on the grand piano. Only when you listen closely, there is something different about the way it sounds.

I used to play the piece myself and I recognised that some of it was missing, so I was intrigued. The work is titled Earth-Moon-Earth (Moonlight Sonata reflected from the surface of the moon).

The score of the famous Beethoven piece had been translated into morse code and beamed to the moon via E.M.E/Moonbounce radio communication technology.

On hitting the moon's cratered surface, the code then dispersed and the remainder bounced back to Earth. This was then re-translated into musical score and programmed on a Disklavier, a digital self-playing piano.

At the other end of the room the morse code can be heard through headphones. The result is eerie yet serene, and I found myself caught up in the romance that the music had travelled to the Moon and back.

Another piece is a neon light on the wall in the shape of the phone number 07757 001122. However, this is no ordinary mobile number! It links to a waterproof microphone suspended in a lagoon underneath Vatnajökull, Europe's largest glacier, in Iceland. When called, you can hear the creaking and moaning of the glacier melting, a tangible example of global warming. (Calls are charged at your network's international rate.) Paterson actually camped beside this lagoon armed with batteries to ensure that anybody who called the number would be able to hear the sound. That's dedication.

Upstairs at Modern Art Oxford is the work of Ansel Adams, featuring more than 70 photos specially selected by the photographer before his death.

Spanning a period from the 1920s to the 1970s, on display are photographs of the magnificent landscapes for which he is most celebrated, from the landscapes of Yosemite National Park to the lakes and mountains of Alaska.

And in the final gallery space, Mircea Cantor presents The Need for Uncertainty. On entering the large room I was bowled over by the presence of a huge gilt cage that stretched right up to the ceiling.

To my amazement two peacocks, a male and a female were parading around inside, seemingly unaware of their situation. It was an interesting and surreal scene, and one that questions what it means to be free.

At the other end of the gallery and hanging from the ceiling is a flying' carpet, featuring motifs of angels and aeroplanes, which is similarly symbolic of freedom and limitations.

Continuing on the subject of encountering the unexpected, I stumbled across Chimera at the Museum of the History of Science completely by chance.

Contemporary artist Angela Cockayne was asked to respond to objects from the 17th century collection of John Tradescant, and so inside the stiff cabinets of the museum exhibit and sitting amongst intricate contraptions and old-fashioned gadgetry is a menagerie of curious creatures.

These include wax squid casts merged with squirrel tails, others are birds with tiny skull heads. On the floor are whale's teeth, cast in plaster with bridal lace. Weird but wonderful...

5:05pm Thursday 8th May 2008

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