Kelly Shephard BBC World Service

Fat hangs like rolls of uncooked pastry from Lucian Freud's nudes.

Raw and unforgiving, the larger-than-life forms lend an uncomfortable realism to the spacious white surroundings of Tate Britain.

Thick multicoloured strokes shape friends and lovers as Freud demonstrates that he cares less about the characters and more about the sensual nature of form.

With little distinction between subject matters, portraits of the infamous performance artist Leigh Bowery hang near to sentimental reflections of the artist's mother.

An intimate picture of Freud's mother

All are meticulously executed as Freud creates voluptuous soft folds of flesh with paint.

"I paint people, not because of what they are like, not exactly in spite of what they are like, but how they happen to be," says Freud.

Talent

Nuzzling among the large, trademark canvasses are exquisite, intricate observations.

A small study of an "unripe tangerine" is mounted onto a background of sumptuous red velvet.

Meanwhile, the view from the rear windows of a house in Paddington, remind us that Freud is a talented draftsman, with a shrewd eye for detail.

New portraits of the artist's girlfriend, journalist Emily Bearn, who is 50 years his junior, also demonstrate that as an artist and a lover he is thriving.

Stark

Freud's Tate exhibition contains more than 150 works by Freud, who has been described as the "greatest living realist painter".

But, with the largest retrospective to date of the work of his work, has Tate Britain bitten off more than it can chew?

Freud is uncompromising in his approach

The collection spans nine bright white rooms, which appear too clinical and stark for the intimate subjects.

In an eclectic array of frames that could easily have been unearthed in an attic, the works look out of place in their modern setting.

They are irritatingly arranged, with little information to put the artist in any context. Even the paintings' titles have been hidden away.

On the surface, this approach may seem refreshing but on a crowded day it can only serve to frustrate visitors.

Despite excellent ingredients this dish is somewhat underdone and while hardcore Freud fans will feast, newcomers may find it hard to swallow.

Lucian Freud opens at Tate Britain, London, on 20 June 2002.