It’s another dud month for the art world, so indulge me this. A dive into one of the most magical experiences of my life, with the odd art-related aside.

On the evening of Monday, August 17, I went to an “intimate show” by Phoebe Bridgers to promote her new album Lost Weekend. Getting just one ticket to the performance at 900-person venue Union Chapel—a beaut, old gothic church near Angel—felt like miracle enough. During the show itself I welled up more than once, and I’m hardly one for emotional outbursts.

As has been much dissected online, Phoebe has recently introduced a no-phones policy to all her shows. It follows a two-year hiatus from public life, shortly before which it seemed that her experience of fame was souring thanks to a loud minority of parasocial wannabes. Well, without rows of phones stuck in her face, Phoebe seemed very relaxed and happy, beaming out at the crowd and cracking jokes throughout the hour-long set. I haven’t yet been to a phone-free event in the art world, but weren’t both Marina Abramović’s exhibition at the Gallerie dell’Accademia in Venice and this year’s Dutch pavilion? Possible trend alert?

Anyway, with no phone, there is no evidence that I was ever at the show. But in my head I’ve replayed the memories for days on end. I managed to get a seat barely 10 metres from Phoebe, with an uninterrupted view. It was her birthday, and at one point she asked the crowd if anyone else was 32. When my hand flew into the air she looked over, smiled, and raised hers. The room later sang her happy birthday. Towards the end, she commanded us all to release our frustration into one long scream during I Know the End. (IYKYK.) As the final rasps dissipated, she deadpanned “welcome to my world,” before exiting the stage.

It was perfect and I think I skipped home in a daze. One of my favourite of the new songs she played is “Kill Me,” a Phoebe classic. I especially love the second verse:

“Costume party / When the veil was thinning / He kissed me hello / He tastes like a flower with chemical petals / Bobby, you taught me that I know nothing”

One thing I love about Phoebe’s lyrics is her gift for setting a scene with very few words. This must be a Halloween party, yes, but in a Phoebe song life becomes dreamlike, faintly eerie, even potentially sinister. The David Foster Wallace flower quote fits perfectly here. Then, out of nowhere, some startlingly true musing about life—like, that the understandings to which we cling could be overturned in an instant—to which the melody adds just the right emphasis.

For context, this verse is, as far as I’m aware, about the very moment when Phoebe cheated on Paul Mescal with Bo Burnham. But the notion of celebrity gossip seems silly in the layered emotional world that she’s created for the album, much of which is about dissociation, a running theme throughout her work. What this background info does reveal is a double meaning—another trademark Phoebe move—with “when the veil was thinning” likely referring both to the spiritual realm and an engagement that is falling apart.

Other songs on the record are a bigger departure from Stranger in the Alps (2017) and Punisher (2020), while still feeling distinctly Phoebe. Some are more lyrically spare than we are used to, and the space is filled with sounds inspired by her love of ambient music. Other songs are surprisingly upbeat and, overall, the album is fundamentally optimistic. She discovers, for example, that she can mourn her late father, with whom her relationship was deeply troubled, for who he actually was, despite the complexities of doing so. It is my view that desperately shying away from dark thoughts is one of the more depressing things you can do, which is why Phoebe’s songs often make me think “finally, somebody said it.”

It’s always interesting to think about this tension between having an enduring, singular identity in your work and the need that anyone talented will have to evolve. I’d argue that the art world puts more pressure on its rising stars not to change things up too much than the music industry does, agree?

For anyone else into the album, my other favourites so far are The Outside, Still Standing, Bobby, As Above and, roguely, Liberty Tree. (“Not getting any younger, honey, but if we don’t try how can we be sure?” must be a millennial anthem, unfortunately.) Would love to hear yours. In any case, Phoebe songs strike the perfect balance between specificity and space, so that my interpretations continue to evolve over the years. One song I half forgot about will surprise me out the blue, becoming the lens through which I understand my life in that moment.

Phoebe was going to play a string of other shows “across the UK” (at a couple more venues in Bristol and Brighton) but got appendicitis the night after I saw her, forcing her to postpone. She had decided to target much of her album promotion on the UK, where it was decreed she had the best chance of getting to number one. Happily, she still managed to achieve this feat from a hospital bed. <3

Keep scrolling for: a Yayoi Kusama obit, art historical revelations, and the sweet promise of grey skies ahead.

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Interesting art news

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on in August.

“Yayoi Kusama, Era-Defining Artist of Dots, Mirrors, and Infinity, Dies at 97” for Artnet News – Here is my obit for Kusama, who actually died a couple weeks ago but David Zwirner only announced it this week. As I write in the piece, there are really two stories about Kusama. In the 21st century, she broke out of the contemporary art sphere to become a pop cultural phenomenon—a rare feat! But I studied her as part of a course at the Courtauld on the 1960s in New York, and the bravery and vision that it took for her to make her name in that context is, I think, the more interesting story.

“The Other Anguissolas: Four Forgotten Renaissance Women Painters Take the Spotlight” for Artnet News – Anyone paying a smidge of attention already knows Sofonisba Anguissola—who, fun fact, lived long enough to win the admiration of both Michelangelo and van Dyck—, but did you know she had five younger sisters? Quite a few of them were good painters too, with some of their little-known works about to go on display at the national museum in Oslo. Here’s my intro to this very unusual family.

“From Leonardo to Dutch Still Life: How Dalí Minted Art History” for Artnet News – I spoke to the curators of this exhibition about Dali’s art historical inspirations and, I must say, it was fascinating. He really did layer those references into his work.

“Gwangju Biennale Reinstates Taiwan Pavilion” for Artnet News – Things got pretty lairy over in Gwangju, following a dispute over the naming of Taiwan’s pavilion at the major Korean biennial. The Taiwanese exhibitors say they were barred entry from the biennial’s venue after accusing it of censorship, but this was eventually resolved after nearly 40 of the biennial’s participants signed an open letter in support of their colleagues. Last I heard, China has now withdrawn its participation…

“Could Brighton Become the New Margate? And Other Art World Matters” for Artnet News – Artnet News just initiated a new format known as “The Bulletin,” a fun, chatty round-up of news and other art world happenings. Here’s one I did recently. Rumour has it, Brighton and Hove Council is in talks with a major London museum to help set up a new seaside gallery (outpost?).

What to see? What to do?

Apologies, the exhibition hiatus lives on. But expect some reccs next month!

Everything else I liked this month

The weather - What beats a chill in the air? The last few months have unfolded like a suffocating, feverish horror film. Every time I look at my weather app, which of recent has been about ten times a day, it has fed me only sickening lies. It will pretend that in just over week temperatures are finally dipping to around 20, but next time I look there’s a horrible jump scare as these numbers suddenly rocket by some 5-10 degrees and the whole colour scheme turns an alarming orange.

The sudden drop in temperature has me feeling enlivened, and my nervous system soothed. I have enjoyed cinematic, late summer strolls through my leafy new neighbourhood, everything sensorially heightened by the smell of damp pavements. Bliss.

The Invite, in cinemas – This is just chef’s kiss for a little weekday evening watch.

The Project by Annie Lord – I have long had a penchant for the writing of this former Vogue columnist, and her fiction debut is fun. VERY London. Features plenty of parties that sound eerily familiar.

xoxo JLT

I’ve been trying to come up with some topic worthy of solemn contemplation since Dad described my last dispatch as “rather frothy.”

July is not a month known for serious art world happenings, but I have been hitting up the cinema and couldn’t help but compare surprise horror hit Obsession with blockbuster The Odyssey.

Now, I liked The Odyssey more than expected. Serious regret set in during the first half hour, but I had cheered up immensely by the time we got to the creepy cyclops stuff and was all for watching the longship sail through sublime landscapes. Still, I wince a bit when men marvel en masse at the mere fact of budget being thrown at a predictable Hollywood storyline. Many have a baffling lack of curiosity about how it could possibly be that girls and gays are bored by these apparent masterpieces. Maybe they are not quite as revelatory as we’ve been told, or maybe not everyone is excited about what they reveal.

There are holes to pick in The Odyssey. What is with these cartoon villains? Why is the son such a dud? But I knew the key thing to watch with any Christopher Nolan film would be the female characters, who tend to be few and far between and the perfect degree of one-dimensional to serve the male protagonist’s emotional arc. One Nolan knack for achieving this is just to kill her off before the film begins.

When I went to see his 2020 film Tenet, which I’m sure even Redditors can admit was a total flop, I was already bored as f when the sole female character was suddenly being bashed about. For the first and only time in my life, I strutted out that screening without a backwards glance. “Thank god,” I thought. It’s just so fabulous when your principled stance doubles as an escape hatch.

Anyway, I can see that Nolan tried a little harder with The Odyssey. Less said about the Zendaya and Charlize Theron characters the better, but Anne Hathaway, Lupita Nyong’o and Samantha Morton had the odd nice line and a tiny slice of action.

Still, watching The Odyssey felt, to me, like a strangely timeless experience. I could have watched the same film two decades ago. In fact, I think I did? But I guess that was Gladiator. Or was it Cast Away? Ok, absolutely no shade to Ridley Scott–who we love for Thelma and Louise and who remains an exception to this rule–, but in my life I’ve watched countless films that people insisted were exceptional. Yet even if a woman was, begrudgingly, given a bit of gumption, it was all optics. Her perspective wasn’t so much as an after thought.

Obsession, meanwhile, took me by surprise. For anyone painfully out the loop, the basic premise is that a man (accidentally) uses a novelty toy to wish that the girl he fancies will love him “more than anyone in the world.” This majorly backfires.

Now, I could write the 2013 version of this film in my sleep. It doesn’t stray too much from today’s, but it’s missing a few scenes. Still in is the moment when beleaguered Bear’s desire to attend boys night is met with bloodcurdling shrieks. So too Nikki’s embarrassingly public displays of jealousy, or her causing a scene at the restaurant in order to force Bear into submission. And yeah, those things would suck.

But gone is Nikki momentarily regaining control of her body and begging to be freed by any means necessary, only to be met with Bear’s self-centred apathy. Gone are dead-eyed looks in the bedroom. Scenes like these were not to be found in the films of my early adulthood, but they greatly complicate the narrative, revealing Nikki as the real victim of the situation. The horror story here is having your agency snatched away, and that’s not a supernatural fantasy. It’s very real, even hauntingly mundane.

I don’t know much about the 26-year-old director, Curry Barker. But I find it encouraging that a Gen Z wunderkind would, without much fanfare, slip these scenes in. I’m glad this film has been a runaway success, and I’ve been loving the ensuing discourse. If a more rounded story comes so naturally to a new generation of filmmakers, that surely bodes well for art across the board.

Keep scrolling for: Ana Mendieta, Anish Kapoor, and World Cup musings.

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Interesting art news

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on in July.

“Letters by Forgotten Surrealist Jacqueline Lamba Reveal Love Affair With Frida Kahlo” for Artnet News – This is a really fabulous story. I just love when art history surfaces something like this.

“Ana Mendieta’s True Legacy Takes Flight at Tate Modern” for Artnet News – This is an interesting show in how it steers clear of mentioning Carl Andre, who many allege murdered Ana Mendieta. I think that was the right call. It is still, obviously, very poignant. But this is achieved by focusing on who Mendieta was and, so, what a terrible tragedy it is that she didn’t get to live and work after the age of 36.

“Anish Kapoor on Malevich, Mortality, and the Meaning of the Void” for Artnet News – I am partial to the odd Kapoor, though none of the gory, sacrificial stuff he’s been up to of recent. I am, however, a bit allergic to the overly sincere, which did not always serve me well on this studio visit last March. “Where was I before I was born? Where do I go after I die?” Kapoor at one point asked, barely holding back tears. I know artists have to be a bit self-indulgent, but really?

“Tate Taps Jessica Morgan as Director, Ending Yearlong Search” for Artnet News – A loyal reader of this newsletter will know I was a Maria Balshaw defender, but hating on Tate and its figureheads is something of a national sport. Will the tides change now that Jessica Morgan is hopping back across the pond to take charge? She certainly seems to have triumphed at Dia Art Foundation. Among her legion of fans is Sadie Coles, who told me “there was the sound of popping corks in celebration at every museum, gallery, studio and art school in the land.”

In this very comprehensive interview, Morgan talks about working the front desk at the Groucho when the naughty YBAs were regulars. “They were very badly behaved, and I got the brunt of it,” she says. '“My job was to put drunk people in cars and send them home, only for them to come back 20 minutes later so I’d have to repeat the whole thing. I’m not naming any names, but they were all there and there was lots of inappropriate behaviour, especially towards a young person, as I was then.” Guess we won’t be getting another Hirst retrospective.

“Ibiza Fair Bets Big on Small-Scale Charm” for Artnet News – Lest you thought my jaunt to Beefa last month was some kind of sun-drenched jolly, let me present you with this very serious fair report.

What to see? What to do?

Here is what I think worth seeing (or appearing to know about) in London right now.

I have been dreadfully negligent and seen absolutely nothing at all apart from that Ana Mendieta show, previously discussed. Sorry, just trying to “do less” this July.

But while we’re here, let me direct you to Apollo’s wonderful new digital archive with Exact Editions. Some samples here are free to read, including vintage gems by the likes of John Berger and Brian Sewell.

Everything else I liked this month

The World Cup – “Who needs art when you have football?” Is something you might hear me murmur once every four years. Obviously it’s sad that England didn’t win but the vibes have been so good this year. In the pubs and also abroad, where, according to TikTok, England fans have been a hit. The scenes of France and England players embracing each other after the bronze final were lovely. I think the whole thing has been quite good for the national psyche, especially when compared to how bitter Argentina was both in victory and defeat. Not chic.

xoxo JLT

Just catching my breath after a whirlwind few weeks.

My Venice diary was long enough, so I’ll try to summarise it all with just a few telling anecdotes.

Firstly, the Serpentine Summer Party, which is oft-described as the closest thing the UK has to a Met Gala. I suppose that is true. But the comparison fails to stand up to much scrutiny once you realise that the summer party is simply another excuse to embark on the great British endeavour of quaffing as much rosé as possible while standing near a structure that could, I suppose, be described as a pavilion.

Getting the chance to go, as press, was obviously intriguing. I knew basically nobody bar one, thankfully very fabulous guest who generously introduced me to the many admirers who approached her. As my write-up reveals, there were quite a few big names from the art world, as well as plenty of celebs. You expect the Maya Jamas of the world to be present, but some of the faces were surprisingly random. A post-zempi Rebel Wilson? That was a double take. Celia Imrie? Cool. Jeff Goldblum? Sure. Charlie Brooker?! How very 2015 coded.

The main takeaway is that these sorts of events are both a) a fun spectacle to glimpse up close and b) a reminder that a party is just a party. Though the atmosphere was friendlier than I would have anticipated, no get-together benefits much from being a space where people are greatly preoccupied with how they are perceived. So it wasn’t exactly poppin’ off, although some did dance as the sun set.

The food, designed by culinary artist Laila Gohar, was… unique. Thick slabs of chocolate were an easy hit. One savoury option was thickly encrusted cobs of corn on a stick. Having myself fallen prey to the odd unchic collision with a sausage roll at parties past, I assumed nobody would be touching these traps. But some brave souls did. Cut from my write-up was the observation that, unfortunately for them, they spent the rest of the evening chased by a telling cheesy tang.

Also in June, I went to my very first Art Basel. It’s nice to finally see for myself what everyone is talking about, though I’m not sure Nairy Baghramian’s commission for the Messeplatz was much of a showstopper. Blistering heat aside, the whole thing was very civilised. It felt like a dream to drift along the banks of the Rhine as I watched people swim and drink wine with nary a care.

On the second night I went to very elegant dinner by Lisson at the Trois Rois, which by all accounts is the place to be in Basel. For whatever reason, I was trying to tell a Canadian and an American about the joys of English sparkling wine. They guffawed, imploring me to reveal that the whole thing was a silly joke. “No, you see, we have a terroir just like Champagne,” I protested. “Because of climate change it’s going to be the next big thing.” The minute I said the word “Kent,” I lost all their respect. Guffaws again.

Mere moments later, a middle-aged man chimed in. “Yes, there’s some awfully good English sparkling wines. Ever tried Nyetimber?” Suddenly the American and Canadian were all ears. “Oh wow, how interesting. Please tell us more.”

When I pointed out this rather suspicious change of tune, the notion of misogyny was waved away. “It’s because you’re like 24 so have probably never even tasted good wine. Who are you to speak of it?” the American insisted. I regret not explaining that I once had to beg for a vodka soda two days into a Dom Perignon press trip. Just one more sip of such rich champagne would have sent me over the edge. Actually I was 24 when this happened, so many years ago. They said no, and over the edge I promptly fell.

Here is the main fair report I co-wrote my esteemed colleague Margaret Carrigan, my diaristic descent into the trippy, Backrooms-style Basel Social Club, and a glimpse at the micro-fair Open Invitational’s new Basel edition. The latter is a very important platform for supported studios showing work by artists with intellectual disabilities, who are currently receiving a new wave of institutional attention. It is long overdue and must be sustained.

Anyway, Ibiza… what can I say. I was there to visit CAN art fair, now in its fifth year. It is one of many initiatives that are seeking to establish the Balearic islands as a destination for serious art business. It’s an endeavour that I’m sure many art journos would join me in supporting wholeheartedly. The focus of the whole thing is very much on having fun. The fair’s organisers were, if anything, ringleading celebrations at the club after the VIP opening, and I can’t imagine anyone got much sleep. I concluded both nights with a 4am swim under the stars. Heaven.

Keep scrolling for: “The First Homosexuals,” Lily Allen, and The Backrooms.

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Interesting art news

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on in June.

“David Hockney, Revolutionary and Beloved Painter, Dies at 88” for Artnet News – The loss of David Hockney’s eccentricity and irreverence really does feel like the end of an era. It’s a comforting thing when people like him are still around, serving as much-needed antidotes to dreary hand-wringers and the overly sincere. Those sorts are dangerously close to taking over and must be resisted at all costs. Anyway, this was my obit, which was an honour to write. All obits are, really.

“$392.6M Lewis Collection Sale Smashes Records at Sotheby’s, Led by $63.9M Modigliani” for Artnet News – Going to my first IRL auction felt pretty glam, though I imagine it gets old quick. This sale of just 25 works from the collection of British billionaire Joe Lewis was banger after banger. It was a bidding frenzy. Ever-fabulous Mel from the FT said “not all auctions are like this!” Another market reporting vet: “Retire now.”

The work I might have most coveted, a La Loge by Degas, was the only one that failed to sell. I love all that darting glances at the theatre, real show is the in the box sort of stuff. But this one is perhaps a little subtle for £3 million.

“Sculpture! Champagne! Celebrities! Inside the Serpentine’s Glitzy Summer Party” for Artnet News – The party write up. Real front lines stuff. 🫡

“London’s Gallery Scene is Full of Contradictions. Its Art Is, Too.” for Artnet News – London Gallery Weekend feels like a lifetime ago, but it is always a useful cue to take a bigger picture view of the city’s gallery scene and look out for new art or market trends. One of the major themes I spotted was an interest in tapping into spiritual or ancient forces in order to transcend the present. And little wonder.

What could tech possibly offer that beats the “awkwardness of the human hand?” the artist Thomas Houseago asked a group of press when we visited his show of new work staged among antiquities at Lévy Gorvy Dayan. Shortly after, at Thaddeaus Ropac, artist Oliver Beer recounted his awe at hovering his own hand over the handprint left by an artist in a prehistoric cave, many millennia ago. The feeling is “hard to describe,” he said. “Nobody really understands.” Sometimes these themes just serve themselves up on a platter.

What to see? What to do?

Here is what I think worth seeing (or appearing to know about) in London and Basel right now.

Nika Kutateladze’s LILI at the Perimeter – If you don’t know the Perimeter, its a great non-profit contemporary art space in Bloomsbury. It recently took over the neighbouring Blue Lion Pub, which is looking pretty derelict I must say. Or maybe that was just the scrappy installation by Georgian artist Nika Kutateladze, which melts into its surroundings in a way that would surely be impossible in a classic white cube. It’s why I don’t think they should renovate the unique space, though I hear that is the plan. Throughout the show, spooky painted faces float, looking totally Otto Dix-level morbid. Which we love, obviously. Until 25 July.

“The First Homosexuals” at the Kunstmuseum Basel – I mean, it’s a flawless concept really. Get together a bunch of art that sketches out the early decades of establishing a new “homosexual” identity, starting in the late 19th-century. The execution was good enough, with lots of nice stuff on display by artists who do not often get their moment in the sun. But this exhibition is far too small. What’s needed is a proper survey that might tour to more places. Until 2 August.

“Pierre Huyghe” at Fondation Beyeler – As I shamelessly proclaimed just a few months ago, I am a big fan of Pierre Huyghe’s 2025 video Liminals. I say “shamelessly” because the general sense I got was that one ought, ideally, to feel at least conflicted about this controversial work. But my initial feeling was confirmed by a partial rewatch last week, while visiting this surprisingly short, but much-discussed show. Every time that (yes, overly gendered) creature begins screaming into the void I feel an awe and excitement deep in my chest. “Finally,” I think. Says more than a pile of rocks or whatever tripe gets passed off as contemporary art these days.

The rest of the show is suitably strange. I liked the weird fuzzy carpet that made it all feel like a retro computer simulation. And the real ants crawling over the wall. And even that uncanny, slithering snake thing. But the other video works were underwhelming, I thought. Until 13 September.

“Cao Fei: Testimonies to the Near Future” at the Kunstmuseum Basel – Well, this is certainly a spectacle. It’s all about youth culture in China, as it plays out in various arenas from the factory to the street or the cinema. The artist’s films from the past few decades have been restaged in vast, immersive installations that pull you into “a vibe.” Of course everyone went crazy on Instagram for the huge ball pit, and I was no exception. Until 11 Oct.

Everything else I liked this month

Lily Allen performs West End Girl at the 02 – I mean, just <3. There’s something moving about seeing such a display of vulnerability met with a large outpouring of admiration and love. And not Lily wearing a pink, frilly apron that reads “cuck” while spending half the performance sprawled on a bed. Yet, somehow, she gave us everything we needed. Loads of losers in our section didn’t even get up to dance to nonmonogamummy, but their drabness could never dampen this most fabulous 45 mins.

The Backrooms by Kane Parsons – Since watching this movie, I am often reminded of it, which must surely be the greatest praise you can give a piece of art? It suggests that it identified a feeling that had not yet been fully defined or explored, so becoming a lens through which to understand experiences in your life. For that reason alone, I would say this film is a must-see, although it is also harrowing in quite profoundly sickening ways, so proceed with caution if you don’t do horror.

Rivals on Disney+ – If you haven’t seen this show yet you should drop everything and run to the nearest TV now. It is based on Jilly Cooper’s camp, 80s, faux-Cotswolds fantasy in which various self-indulgent bumpkin types pretend to make TV shows whilst attending apparently twee/secretly depraved garden parties where they all behave very naughtily indeed. The first series is probably one of the best shows I’ve ever seen, and the second series is fitting follow up, if a bit more sincere. It’s glossy, it’s cheeky–Rivals is just the sort of sneaky delight that you can’t believe is allowed to actually exist. Thank god.

xoxo JLT

Every so often, an old rocker decides it’s time to dabble in new pursuits. And so an artist is born. The latest to join this fine tradition is Jack White, who became a sensation in the noughties with his band the White Stripes and has now opened a solo exhibition at Damien Hirst’s London gallery Newport Street. I got the call up to meet him for a walkthrough last week.

Preparation mostly meant expanding my knowledge beyond Seven Nation Army and Steady, As She Goes, courtesy of a playlist by my musically savvy friend Robyn. There was also plenty to learn about White’s humble beginnings as an upholsterer in Detroit, which would prove pretty relevant. As for the day of the interview, Tuesday, it was mid-heatwave so I was in a state of total disorientation. I concluded my hair was better off greasy than frizzy–the sort of awful choices you have to make in 34°–, praised God for baseball caps and trekked nearly an hour on foot to Hirst’s gallery round the back of Waterloo.

As I soon found out, White is about as friendly as you could hope a rockstar, or artist, to be. Much of what he said was punctuated with a chuckle, and he laughed generously at most of my little remarks. He has that classically American way of being super laidback but quick to proclaim the awesomeness of things. “Totally.” The PR later said she was amused to see us both mooching through the gallery in all black with dyed black hair. He has a slightly fey manner of pushing his back while speaking.

We set off to tour the show, which is no mean feat at just over 100 pieces of sculpture, photography, painting, and furniture. White seemed genuinely excited by this chance to show the public his art, claiming that he had so much fun coming up with enough stuff to fill all six capacious galleries that he is sad the show is finished. I’m sure his fans are delighted, but the reception from the art world has been mixed leaning negative. I suppose people are worn down by the Adrien Brodys of the world, but I think White has slightly more to offer than your average celeb-turned-artist. For one thing, he has been making art since he was a teen in the 1990s, as evidenced by some of the earliest works on show. For another, you don’t need more than a glance at his back catalogue to see he’s always maintained a strong visual identity.

Complaints have branded White a deluded sellout who needs to graft at art school like everyone else, but I think people are getting their knickers in a twist. This is a novelty show at a gallery I didn’t even realise existed until last week. I doubt some would-be star is missing their big break over it. Roll your eyes, sure, but if the comments on Artnet’s Instagram reel about the show are anything to go by, people are getting pretty angry. This may be owed partly to the fact that the reel focuses on White’s collaborations with Hirst, which are the tackiest works on display, clear evidence of meddling by that reviled YBA.

Ignoring Hirst’s efforts for now, a fairly consistent aesthetic does emerge over three decades of White’s independent production. In my write-up for Artnet News, I describe it as almost Tim Burton-esque. White calls it “Hardware Store Art.” In any case, there were some pieces I found charmingly weird, like his 1996 series of turtles that have “evolved” to survive in a futuristic, urban landscape. Two janky examples are on view, including one with a moveable head and nails sticking out of its back and another “sewer” model that crawls about in a Coke can and lives in a drainpipe.

Other works on view include a recreation of that time in 2015 when White painted a dying tree in his “backyard” bright red and a bunch of sofas he’s upholstered in vaguely eccentric ways just for fun. It’s all underpinned by an ethos that anything, even discarded junk, deserves to be made beautiful, so White spends hours adding in tiny details that most people will never notice. At one point, I exclaimed shock at how he finds the time to do all this stuff. He cackled. “I get that a lot.”

“You have beautiful eyes by the way,” White announced as we sat down in Hirst’s Pharmacy-style bar to continue the interview. His tone was surprised. “People must tell you that a lot.” In fact, it rarely happens. But, obviously shook, I babbled some nonsense about eyes that turn hazel in the sun but how it inevitably sounds deluded to make these sorts of claims about yourself. “Right!” he agreed with a laugh. Friends have indeed scoffed at my futile claim to a green outer iris. Next time, I’ll be armed with this unlikely, but conveniently recorded, flex. Thank you, Jack White.

I’ve never previously interviewed an artist who offered their opinion about me, but perhaps its more typical in the music biz. At least, it also happened last year when I interviewed Pete Doherty. Now, that was an exciting invitation for a British millennial. Doherty, of the Libertines and Babyshambles, was EVERYWHERE in 2006. Images of him gaunt, clutching Kate Moss in a field of mud or grinning smugly with sunken addict eyes outside some criminal court were practically the wallpaper to our lives. The very idea of him brings a shock of nostalgia.

Doherty provoked many a headline in his heyday for making art with his own blood. He told me that old syringes were closer to hand than pens in his various dens of iniquity. He has since adopted more commercially-available pigments, deployed using a stencil and spray can, as well as collaged found materials.

Doherty’s exhibition was at Janine Bean gallery in Berlin, so our meeting sadly had to be virtual. It was nonetheless surreal to see that face pop up on screen, so familiar but for two decades and the famed swap of crack for camembert. Like White, Doherty is known to be friendly, and he was almost too easy to talk to. I got the sense that he is trained from his 2000s tabloid era to believe that all anyone wants from him are sordid or salacious details, so these poured from his mouth incessantly in response to even the most innocuous questions. Some, like his doctor’s fear that continued alcoholism would make his toes fall off, made it into my write-up. Others didn’t bear repeating.

Anyway, at various points Pete’s curiosity was piqued. “I don’t know why but I get the feeling you’re on the Holloway Road,” he interrupted at one point. “Er, I’m in Clerkenwell,” I said. “Ooooh, very nice!”

Is he psychic? I wasn’t FAR from the Holloway Road. It wasn’t bad for a guess based off plain walls. I was by that point sitting in the stairwell near the WiFi, having begun the call in front of a shameful pile of cardboard boxes that had festered in my room for some months. They did not go unnoticed.

“Are you moving or you just moved in or something?,” Doherty said, deciding it was my turn in the hot seat. “What’s going on? You got a new telly?”

“Er, I had moved rooms,” I stuttered. “I should have dealt with that sooner though. It’s been a while, to be honest. Normally you can blur the background, so people don’t know, but not on FaceTime.”

“No,” he insisted. “It looks great. Fashion magazines would pay a fortune for that look. You know what I mean?” I said I’d gladly hand it over to them.

But thank you, Pete Doherty. For the support I didn’t know I needed.

And just a little note to Lily Allen: I see absolutely no reason why pop stars shouldn’t become artists too… 😉 xx

Keep scrolling for: Whistler at Tate Britain and The Devil Wears Prada 2.

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Interesting art news

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on in May.

“UK Museum Races to Acquire 18th-Century Portrait of Black Gardener” for Artnet News – This is a cool story. The Garden Museum in Lambeth is fundraising to acquire the first known portrait of a Black British gardener, John Ystumllyn from Wales.

“Dubai Plans a Massive New Museum for Digital Art” for Artnet News – Dubai is trying to establish itself as a major hub for digital art. It already has an intriguing, rather oxymoronic sounding “Museum of the Future” that apparently uses immersive technologies to invite visitors into speculative visions of the world in 50 years. I find it daunting enough imagining the world in 5.

“Louvre Reveals Architects for $1 Billion Expansion” for Artnet News – Anything the Louvre does to try and clamber from its hole does feel like big museum news.

What to see? What to do?

Here is what I think worth seeing (or appearing to know about) in London right now.

“James McNeill Whistler” at Tate Britain – Whistler can do no wrong, in my eyes, so this was obviously a 10/10. I felt transported by the nocturnes, a sense of peace descending as though I too were wiling away a dusky hour by the Thames, mysterious as it must have looked beneath the shadows of Victorian London. I am a little sad that my all-time favourite Whistler, if not my all-time favourite painting, was not on loan: Nocturne in Black and Gold – The Falling Rocket (c. 1875). It’s forever changed how I look at fireworks since I realised the smoke is maybe more beautiful.

What is most notable about this show is the space it gives to Whistler’s formative years, thanks to sketchbooks he kept as a teenager in St. Petersburg, and the first reunion of his early Paris oil portraits since they were last shown together in 1905. I wrote about the discovery of his first known portrait here.

Everything else I liked this month

The Devil Wears Prada 2 (2026) – I’m sure anyone with a compulsion to watch this farce will surely have done so already. Is it a good film? Obviously not. But I can’t lie, I had fun, especially in the first half. However, many of the themes did hit a little close to home for someone who works in media... I guess the escapist fantasy is dead, but at least we can now wfh.

The Drama (2026) – Nothing to add to the discourse here but this was a great midday watch on my day off. I read someone slating the script but I actually found the dialogue quite realistic.

Roadgames (1981) – Loved this vintage horror, which I saw at the utterly unique Nickel Cinema. As an intro clip before the film established, the venue is a favourite of icon John Waters, whose interviews I could watch all day. “The owner of Rush gave me a lifetime supply of poppers… And I’m out of them!”

This is off brand but I do love a road movie, I think for the eccentric passing characters (are they a force for good or bad?) and whole sections that meander freely from plot.

xoxo JLT

There’s no point talking about the Venice Biennale in June, so here’s an unscheduled update, written as I lie back in a state of well-earned repose. If I never see another bridge… etc etc.

Now, before I dive in to my hotly-anticipated (…) Biennale diary, I must introduce a strange phenomenon I’ll describe as “Venice magic.” Sometimes, amid the considerable chaos of the opening week, strange coincidences will collide to create an impossibly perfect outcome. You’ll soon see.

Tuesday

The first instance of “Venice magic” came early. Having dragged myself from bed at 4 a.m. to catch a Ryanair from Stansted (pains me to type something so unchic), I glanced behind my shiny blue seat to see none other than one of my favourites, Benji Prescott, a beloved Scouse queen who basically runs Frieze as far as I’m concerned. Gossiping began immediately.

The less said about getting the Alilunga the better, but I did eventually make it to the U.S. pavilion, where I had to boldly ambush Emmanuel Perrotin with questions about why he is willing to be seen representing an artist tainted by association with Trump (in not so many words). But he’s a French boomer so obviously doesn’t actually give a fuck and went on a tirade about “haters.” I also spoke to the artist, who seemed to be having a jolly tbf. Nonetheless, something shady was clearly afoot… so I was later holed up for hours in my Airbnb writing the first juicy take to be published on the pavilion and vicariously imagining what it might be like to have been at the Studio Drift launch via everyone’s Instagram stories.

Wednesday

I’ve received word of a Pussy Riot protest at the Russia pavilion, but could never have imagined how long the queue for the Giardini would be. Cue panicked crisis in the pouring rain, as I prayed my laptop wouldn’t be soaked and that I might make it inside for the kick off at 11 a.m. By a stroke of “Venice magic,” I got through the gates at, quite literally, 11 on the dot to scarper straight over to Russia’s pavilion, which, side note, is unfortunately gorgeous. Suddenly I was in the thick of it, being bustled to and fro as these pink-balaclavaed gals threw a punk party that, for the most part, resembled a mosh pit. Total home from home for me… but really they know how to put on a powerful show and it was thrilling to have a front row seat. Also at the scene were Artnews’ Brian Boucher and the Guardian’s Lanre Bakare, but it was no place for a stop and chat so only nods were exchanged.

After writing that story up as fast as possible, I sauntered around the pavilions. I know the “right-on” opinion is to think that the national pavilions system is dreadfully outdated but, at a time when one must unfortunately boycott Eurovision, I secretly love it. It’s much more fun to find out what each country thinks they should send onto the world stage right now for maximum impact than it is seeing yet another samey international show. Anyway, we have the main exhibition for that.

Inevitably I had fun at Japan’s installation of baby dolls, but on the whole I wasn’t that taken by much of what I saw. I did, however, queue for about an hour to see the infamous Austria pavilion by Florentina Holzinger and, by the sounds of it, I was lucky not to be waiting a full three hours to see those naked women scaling a rotating weathervane. Totally worth it! Just as I thought I’d seen it all, some new depraved dimension would be revealed. Obviously I was obsessed by the slightly camp faux-cleaning ladies by the portaloos. I never quite know how seriously to take shock value art but, then again, this show does have a serious underlying message about water scarcity and it’s not easy to make such a depressing issue a hot talking point.

I crawled home down that ghastly thoroughfare of tourist tat, utterly drenched by the rain. Water scarcity, what? I later fell pray to some sad delusion that the weather would lend my hair a carefree, swept back look that would transition nicely into evening chic. By the time the frizzy reality became clear it was already too late. And as for trying to put on make-up under the lighting of an Airbnb… well, anyway, I did my best and headed out again.

First stop was the Frieze magazine party. A v elegant affair where I chatted to Angel Lambo from Frieze, Ed Behrens from Apollo, Rob Baker from the Courtauld and Khuroum Bukhari from Sutton before rushing off to try my luck at the British pavilion party, to which I was rudely not invited. Quite what li(n)es at the door got me in I couldn’t possibly say, let’s just call it “Venice magic.” But, as is often the way, the anticipation of a party is more exciting than the truth of it. The huge courtyard is certainly a fabulous venue, though it’s a shame they aren’t allowed to fill it. The music was slightly giving wedding vibes, but there was a sprinkling of Madonna and some great fellow guests, including Benji, obviously, gallerist Bolanle Tajudeen, Meg Molloy from the Working Arts Club, Susanna Davies-Crook from the Barbican, Kathryn Lloyd from Burlington Contemporary, and curator Trinidad Fombella.

Halfhearted attempts to carry on to the Baltic pavilion party went awry when one group I was following down a warren of backstreets led me to a random bar instead. Seemed like a sign to go home. Anyway, the Denmark party with Cicciolina had been the real hot ticket that night.

Thursday

Total weather whiplash. I set out in a cap and thick layer of SPF 50 to try and find anything new to say about the strikes planned for Friday in protest of the Israel pavilion. Luckily the Ecuador and Slovenian pavilions came through, and I quickly tapped up this story in the Arsenale’s seriously lux press room. I took in as much of “In Minor Keys” as possible before heading home for that obligatory pre-evening collapse.

The night began at a rather extravagant drinks party held for Courtauld alums at an ornate palazzo in Dorsoduro. I then headed to a bar to meet up with my colleague Ben Davis, Josie Thaddeus-Johns from Artsy, and titan of the Berlin art world, Kate Brown. There I met Emily Sandstrom–who gives me a mention in her own fab diary for Interview magazine–and Jameson Johnson, founder of the Boston Art Review.

Some of us eventually fell into a water taxi and were whizzed off to the Lido for the Canada pavilion party. If at first glance the venue looked embarrassingly empty, we were, by this point, essentially marooned and had no choice but to commit. Mercifully, just as Benji arrived, the room filled up and soon we were dancing with Kate to a set by Jyoty (I’m told). As though experiencing mass hysteria, revellers reached up and grasped at a bunch of grapes that was being dangled from the balcony above in a manner that can only be described as a Bacchanalian.

As 2 a.m. crept up, Benji and I suddenly imagined that we might have it in us to go to the Mendes Wood after party, a biannual affair on a boat. We tottered over to the dimly lit, deserted jetty in a desperate bid to find a taxi. Just as we were negotiating the possibility of sharing with one reluctant group, Benji flung their phone dramatically into the air as I shrieked. It landed on the jetty’s furthest edge, mere millimetres from disappearing into murky depths. “Now that’s luck,” an onlooker muttered before boarding his boat. Or was it the magic of Venice? With some more luck, a vacant taxi pulled up just behind theirs and within minutes Benji and I were speeding over the water towards the mainland. Standing up, we threw our heads back in the wind and squealed with excitement, regaling our shock about the spared phone.

Our taxi pulled up to the meeting spot just minutes before the boat’s first pick up at 2, but even from afar we could sense a commotion. An angry mob stood beside this vast, fake pirate ship covered in flashing, multi-coloured lights and, as we docked, we realised everyone still on solid ground appeared emotionally shaken by the experience of having attempted to board. No luck here, it seemed. As the tacky barge departed with seemingly few guests, Benji and I took our cue to strut home.

Friday

Come Friday, Benji and I were off to San Polo, sunglasses firmly affixed to our faces. We saw Belarus Free Theatre’s show and went to Fondazione Prada, stopping to chat along the way with Welsh idol Gareth Harris from The Art Newspaper and Holly Black, who just released a book about the history of printmaking. That evening, I went for dinner with social media maestro Lydia Higton and some of the fab gang she’s been sharing an Airbnb with. We stopped by the Malta pavilion party, which was pretty glam at the Gritti Palace, and caught up while gazing over the Grand Canal. It was a fitting close to a whirlwind of a week. By Saturday, the real action was over, which is just as well because I actually managed to see some art.

That’s all, for another two years at least. I’ve got this week off to do my favourite thing of all: nothing in London. I plan to do little else but lie-in, go for aimless struts about town, sit alone in an empty cinema or dazed at a restaurant in the middle of the afternoon, pop into a vintage shop, and maybe go to, like, one pilates class.

Keep scrolling for: U.S. pavilion gossip, Venice exhibition reviews, and by far the most exciting news of all: Phoebe Bridgers’ LONG-anticipated comeback. Ah, I might faint.

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Biennale news

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on at the Biennale.

“Alma Allen Offers a Quiet Vision in Venice–Even as Questions Swirl Around the U.S. Pavilion” for Artnet News – It’s no surprise that Alma Allen has been roundly slated by critics, he’s an easy target and the art is certainly not up to the task of representing the U.S. on the world stage. But we already knew that, so if you read one article about this exhibition it should be mine. I focus instead on the seemingly uneasy relationship between the artist and the American Arts Conservancy (AAC), the pavilion’s commissioner, founded last year by a Florida pet food entrepreneur. What I heard about the AAC’s involvement in the show, or its surprising lack thereof, is a little juicy. And I do think they deserve to take most of the heat here. As for Alma, I hope this gives some sense of where he’s coming from. Is his hippy disinterest in politics acceptable? Well, I guess that’s up for audiences to decide.

(Also, I heard a rumour that the AAC threw a secret Trump lovers party? Would love to hear more from anyone in the know.)

“Pussy Riot Storms Russia Pavilion at Venice Biennale” for Artnet News – As mentioned earlier, being caught up in the midst of a Pussy Riot performance was pretty amazing. “I don’t understand why [the Biennale] is so adamant in supporting this blood-soaked Russian art,” the group’s founder Nadya Tolokonnikova told press just afterwards. It is strange that Biennale president Pietrangelo Buttafuoco is willing to go against his Meloni cronies on this, so much so that they boycotted the Biennale opening. Doesn’t he remember that they gave him this job, despite his lack of qualifications?! Talk about biting the hand that feeds.

Last I heard, Russia co-opted this protest and started screening it inside the pavilion. Then they cried “censorship” when they were told off, or so it appears from Nadya’s Instagram stories.

“An Unprecedented 24-Hour Strike Could Upend the Venice Biennale” for Artnet News – It’s heartening to see so many Biennale participants rally on this issue. I didn’t go to the protest for reasons that are not admirable and probably involve drinking a spritz, but a v promising future art journalist Tien Albert, who currently edits The Courtauldian, was there and wrote this useful report. A spokesperson for ANGA told him that the organisation’s strategy is to encourage its supporters to keep participating in the Biennale, rather than boycott entirely. This way they can plan disruptions from the inside.

“Best in Show: 6 Standouts at the 2026 Venice Biennale” for Artnet News – My esteemed colleagues Ben Davis, Katya Kazakina, Andrew Russeth and I put together this round-up of art we liked best at the Biennale. I chose Gabrielle Goliath’s Elegy, noting how its message benefits from being away from the fray of the Arsenale, and Belarus Free Theatre’s collateral show, which actually addresses the reality of living under an authoritarian regime. All while Russia threw vodka parties in the Giardini…

What to see? What to do?

Here is what I think worth seeing (or appearing to know about) in Venice right now.

Lubaina Himid’s “Predicting History: Testing Translation” at the British Pavilion in Venice – I’ve spoken to curators who have worked with Lubaina Himid and, by all accounts, she is a delight and a huge supporter of other artists. So for that, I am glad to see this moment of recognition. Personally, I do not love her paintings. But, in the great Eurovision of art, this was not a nil points situation. This year, that disgrace fell on France. Hehe. Until 22 November.

“Helker Skelter: Arthur Jafa and Richard Prince” at Fondazione Prada – It’s a relief to finally see Arthur Jafa’s LOVE IS THE MESSAGE, THE MESSAGE IS DEATH (2017), a 21st-century classic for a reason. I spent most of my time here glued to the video art, a rarity for me, who usually flees the scene of a screen in contemporary art. Dare I say it, when done well, a two-person show is the best, cleverest kind there is. Artnotnet nailed it when they called this the unofficial U.S. pavilion. GO! Until 23 November.

“Michael Armitage: The Promise of Change” at Palazzo Grassi – I don’t think there’s much I can usefully add to the resounding praise for this show, other than to echo it. Truly, it must be seen. Now, imagine if this work had filled the British pavilion… it would have received raves across the board. Until 10 January, 2027.

“Matriclysm: An Archaeology of Connections Lost” at the Salone Verde – Ok, I get why everyone made fun of this exhibition by Jewel, who apparently is a nineties pop legend in America but I certainly had never heard of her. The work is kitsch and absurd, but I found it fun. Perhaps I’m just a lost cause and shouldn’t be allowed to talk seriously about art ever again. Until 22 November.

“In Minor Keys” – I’m not gonna lie, I was way too overwhelmed to take in much of this. It’s not one for opening week. I also suspect that perhaps it has been harder for people to really engage this year, in the knowledge that this isn’t really Koyo Kouoh’s exhibition, as much as we would all love to indulge the fantasy that her vision could have been known and brought to fruition. But there were some works I really liked, including those by Billie Zangewa and Kaloki Nyamai, and I’m excited to see more from them. Until 22 November.

Everything else I liked this month

I now have just one raison d’etre: the return, this year, of Phoebe Bridgers with her first solo album since 2020. Obviously, I now spend all my waking hours on Reddit scrutinising every vague theory about this new era. There is no time left to fritter on anything else.

To celebrate this momentous news, I present to you some of Phoebe’s all-time most relatable lyrics:

(on running)

“I’ve been running around in circles, pretending to be myself. Why would anyone do this on purpose? When they could do something else.”

(on life)

“When I get back, I’ll lay around, then I’ll get up and lay back down.”

(on life)

“I can hardly feel anything. I hardly feel anything, at all.”

(on dreadful people)

“I hate your mom. I hate it when she opens her mouth. It’s amazing to me how much you can say when you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

(on life)

“And it’s 4 a.m. again. And I’m doing nothing, again.”

xoxo JLT

Before we dive into news and reccs, I must briefly say how excited I am for Whistler’s moment in the spotlight at Tate Britain later this month. He is a great master of less is more and I admire his restraint. On canvas at least. When it came to words, he certainly had his way with them.

I did a whole course on Whistler during my degree at the Courtauld, so was obviously delighted to find out that he was a sassy old thing. Otherwise serious tomes I had to flick through where always peppered with his quips. I think I once kept a list. I’m always very inspired by people who manage to be both consequential and deserving of respect and unashamedly absurd.

Having lost my list, I’ve had to scour the web for examples of Whistler’s provocative candour and the results were wanting. But the following is a good example of why I love him. Early in life, Whistler enrolled at a U.S. military academy in West Point, from which he was expelled. Mostly for being physically hopeless but also for making sarcastic remarks. Later, he was asked what, with this training, he would do if he ever, embarrassingly, forgot the dates of important battles at a dinner party.

“Do?,” he exclaimed. “Why I should refuse to associate with people who talk of such things at dinner.” 💅

Speaking of voices from the past, I recently came across some surviving correspondence between my great-grandfather and his eldest daughter, my great-aunt. He had just dropped her off at a convent school in Baden-Baden and, on his way back to London, wrote her a letter from Basel on 3 October 1929. He was obviously a very doting father and this paragraph in particular moved me. (Emphasis mine.)

“You mother and I went and had dinner this evening at a restaurant called I believe Schützenhaus, where we had a very good dinner and talked of you and wished you were with us. I shall always wish you are with us as long as I live, because I love you dearly; but such things as school and later on perhaps a husband as bad as I am will take you away, leaving me just a wonderful longing for you.”

I’m always having to remind myself to challenge my own lazy assumptions about the past, such as that all fathers were distant or everyone was repressed. And that we should jot down thoughts like these because then they might outlast us.

Anyway, see you in Venice? 💋

Keep scrolling for: Thoughts on Famesick, and an insight into life with “aphantasia”–the inability to create mental images.

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Interesting art news

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on in April.

“What Biennials Reveal About the Art World” for The Art Angle – What should we expect from Koyo Kouoh’s “In Minor Keys” exhibition? In an attempt to find some answers I compared the data on her artists’ ages and birth places with those of the three previous Biennale main exhibitions in 2024, 2022 and 2019. The findings were pretty illuminating… and you can hear me witter on about them on The Art Angle podcast (with my esteemed colleague Ben Davis, who has been analysing broader biennial trends). OR, read about it here. Also, this was a very good piece in the NYT about the tragic circumstances of Kouoh’s death last May and its implications for the exhibition.

“Isabel Nolan’s Work Challenges Everything We Think We Know About Creativity” for Artnet News – A few months ago I was reading this article in the New Yorker about the rare neurological condition “aphantasia,” or the inability to see mental images. As it happens, the artist representing Ireland at the Biennale this year has it, as do a surprising number of visual artists. For this interview, I visited her at her Dublin studio and she had lots to say on how it has influenced her practice. Her way of working challenges some of our laziest assumptions about creativity.

“Alma Allen Speaks Out on Backlash Over Venice Biennale Commission: ‘A Little Stressful’” for Artnet News – Alma Allen, the artist representing the U.S. at the Biennale, has received plenty of backlash for taking on the commission, which has basically been hijacked by Trumpian principles whether he agrees with them or not. Apparently both photographer William Eggleston and sculptor Barbara Chase-Riboud turned the invitation down. Allen has been pretty reticent to speak to the press but here is my write up of a podcast interview he gave where he suggests that perhaps people are simply jealous that he found a backdoor onto the world’s most prestigious stage for contemporary art. I’m doing a first look at the pavilion next week so keep your eyes on Artnet News. 👀

“Venice Bound? Here’s All the News You Need to Know About This Year’s Biennale” for Artnet News – This is my pretty comprehensive primer on all the news stories you’re going to have to catch up on if you want to appear in the know in Venice.

“Rare Leonora Carrington Sketches of Her Inner Turmoil Resurface in London Show” for Artnet News – If you love all things Leonora check out these drawings she made while recovering from a mental breakdown in a Spanish sanatorium in 1940. She reimagined the hospital as an underworld inhabited by strange, hybrid beasts, and the sketchbooks are now on view at the Freud Museum in Hampstead until 28 June.

“Rare Portraits Reveal How Elizabeth I Turned Image Into Power” for Artnet News – I’m just a big Tudor portraits gurl. And excited to see this show at Philip Mould, opening 14 May.

“How Art Firms Are–or Should Be–Using A.I. Right Now” for Artnet News – The question of how businesses in the art world are actually using AI, apart from in the most basic sense, is one that can be quite hard to answer. I covered Artnet’s The Back Room industry newsletter last week with a little update on where things seem to be headed.

What to see? What to do?

Here is what I think worth seeing (or appearing to know about) in London right now.

“Zurbarán” at the National Gallery – This is a long overdue moment of recognition in Britain for an icon of Spanish art. The Baroque painter has been described as Spain’s answer to Caravaggio and while this probably does help place him, there is an austerity and focus to his work that is a far cry from Caravaggio’s theatrics. I’ve always said Spanish food is underrated compared to Italian and French, and I think it’s also true of art. Some of Zurbarán’s most striking compositions dispense with unnecessary background detail, allowing the drama to play out against a plain ground. This shallow, stage like effect is clarifying, sometimes mystical. It reminded me a bit of Whistler, though his figures more often emerge from shadows. Until 23 August.

“Cecily Brown: Picture Making” at Serpentine South – Every so often, I don my art critic boots and last month I strutted on down to the Serpentine to see the Cecily Brown show. It’s a strange thing that this is the London debut of a London-born artist who has achieved such global renown. The new works on view reimagine the artist’s early memories of pastoral England through the kitschifying lens of children’s book illustrations. I liked what I saw, on the whole, apart from The Serpentine Picture (2024), which I describe in my article as “an aerial view of the gallery against an inexplicably lurid yellow ground can only have been hastily assembled for the occasion.” Brown later liked one of my pictures on Instagram so I can only assume she agrees. Until September 6.

“Schiaparelli: Fashion Becomes Art” at the V&A – Ok, obviously this show is filled with delights, and you can read all about them here. But can we talk about the V&A? It’s doing some pretty cool stuff in East London but back at the flagship it seems only to spin out a succession of sponsored puff pieces. I suppose it’s the price of access to a fashion house’s archives but these wall texts are only getting more sycophantic by the minute. I don’t think “curation” is really a suitable term anymore. But the budgets! These shows are basically experiential, from fur walls to needlessly immersive elements and a bizarrely lulling soundtrack. Is this what audiences will come to expect? And if so, how will smaller museums keep up? Until November 8.

Everything else I liked this month

Famesick by Lena Dunham – I mean, of course. I should admit I’ve not yet finished this hugely hyped memoir but if you needed any encouragement to start please take this as a sign. You can always rely on Lena to be candid so this is a pretty fascinating glimpse behind the curtains of Girls that doesn’t shy from messy details. The book does a great job of layering Lena’s initial interpretation of people’s actions with her read on them now, through the jading lens of time. She could sometimes be accused of making herself a bit innocent in the face of others’ bad intentions but aren’t we all? I love how she finds the humour in some pretty horrifying situations.

Intermezzo by Sally Rooney – Obviously missed the boat on this in 2024 but omg, where to start. FIVE STARS. A masterclass. I wish more novels could be like this. I found the inner monologues of each character so convincing. The exploration of ways in which people hurt each other, even with good intentions, felt SO true. The dialogue unspools so naturally as apparently meandering conversations establish an affinity between two characters. I reread some of the arguments because I couldn’t decide who to side with and was in awe at the nuance of these tensions. I slightly agree with criticisms that the women were too saintly and the ending was a bit odd, but otherwise have gone from feeling ambivalent about Rooney to v excited for her next book.

Tao Tao Ju on Lisle Street – I recently went to this Chinatown restaurant for a second time because I love to eat dim sum in the evening. Bet you can’t imagine such ample, juicy dumplings and I’m still dreaming of that cheung fun. 🥲

Buffalo Chicken Dip – I’ve come to the conclusion that buffalo wings probably are my all-time favourite food, so you can only imagine my excitement when I attended the party of a Tennessean and found out about this scandalous dip. I will avoid describing its merits in a rare bid to retain some dignity, but suffice to say I plan to make it myself. You should also if you ever want some very happy guests.

xoxo JLT

Work trips this month took me to Dublin and Ghent, both places I’ve been meaning to visit for some time. I was in Dublin to meet Ireland’s artist for the Venice Biennale, about whom more will be revealed in a later newsletter. But with a free evening I decided to see what this promise of craic was all about. Venturing out alone, my best option seemed to be a comedy show.

Now, being vaguely sensible, I perched demurely on a little stool towards the back of the pub. Unfortunately, when I got up to go to the bar my seat was stolen and the show’s host, having spotted me lurking in the shadows, “kindly” ushered me up to a seat so close to the stage that my foot was actually resting on it. I didn’t need a crystal ball to predict what would happen next.

“Where are you from?” the host turned to me, directing the audience’s gaze. “England,” I murmured with a sheepish grin. “No need to be so nervous, all that antagonism is in the past now,” he joked. But, of course, as soon as my nationality was exposed it was open season. Every comedian who took to the stage was armed with a jibe or three, most of which were pretty funny.

HOWEVER, it might shock loyal readers to discover that being English was hardly the only element of my identity to be skewered that night. Asked by the host what I was doing in Dublin I explained in a voice that suddenly seemed painfully plummy that I was an art journalist here to interview the artist representing Ireland at the Venice Biennale. “The what?” “The Venice Biennale.” Faces of bemusement all round.

“Well, see, we get some fancy audience members here,” the host broke the silence. “Look! She’s even drinking wine!” He pointed to my hand clutching a crisp white. The room grasped their Guinnesses and howled with laughter at such affectations.

I suppose we in the art world do need the relentless carousel of biennales and fairs. They serve as distractions from the reality that most people view the very serious business of art journalism (and, presumably, art anything else) as nothing but nonsense. Anyway, it was good fun. If you ever need to wile away a Sunday or Monday evening in Dublin do check out the Comedy Crunch at the Stag’s Head.

I have had a few conversations recently about Ireland’s basic income for artists and I really do hope something similar might happen in the UK. The terms deciding who gets what and on what basis would need a bit of hashing out, but it does seem very obvious that society wins long term. Literally, in terms of the economic value of the cultural industries, but also, of course, by pretty much every other conceivable measure. One obvious example is Tracey Emin who was on the dole in the 1990s and is now an international star who supports a community of up-and-coming artists in Margate. There are plenty more examples but there might not be for long if we don’t do more…

Finally, an important PSA is that everyone should be going to Ghent! I was in a total daze the whole time because it was so beautiful, almost as soothing for the soul as a stroll around Waitrose. But when I returned ready to sing its praises, I found that people hardly even seem to know where Ghent is. Well, it’s just a half hour train from Brussels, practically a stone’s throw from London if you think about it. And it’s DIVINE. You could spend ten minutes admiring just one of those ornate medieval facades. Lots of well-dressed people piling out of wine bars too.

Perhaps most shocking of all is that a visit to the magical Ghent altarpiece now comes with an optional AR experience and… it’s actually alright! At one point the headset plants you in the middle of Van Eyck’s bustling studio as he paints the patrons, quite fun no? And I learnt lots about the altarpiece, which has had a surprisingly storied past that includes Hitler trying to blow it up. It’s amazing it has survived at all, let alone intact.

Keep scrolling for: Venice Biennale news, David Hockney and Louis Theroux.

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Interesting art news

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on in March.

Endless Venice Biennale drama for Artnet News – The Venice Biennale news mill keeps churning… Very controversially, the Biennale has allowed Russia to return this year after it withdrew two editions ago, just after invading Ukraine. The fallout has been pretty major, with the EU threatening to pull funding worth €2 million and Italy’s own government, which has long supported Ukraine, criticising the decision. Is the Biennale’s new stance that it “rejects any form of censorship” influenced by its right-wing president Pietrangelo Buttafuoco? He seems unwilling to compromise, so I can’t imagine he will be swayed by an open letter published by activist group the Art Not Genocide Alliance that calls for Israel to be excluded from the Biennale. Notably, it is signed by nearly 200 Biennale participants, including artists Alfredo Jaar, Tai Shani, and Yto Barrada and two of the curators chosen to fulfill the vision of the late Koyo Kouoh. I don’t think countries committing war crimes should take part in the Biennale but, if the organisers were to also take that view, would it raise some questions about the U.S.-Israel war in Iran?

In other Venice news, the artist Gabrielle Goliath, whose exhibition for the South Africa pavilion was labelled “divisive” and abruptly cancelled at the start of the year for honoring a murdered Gazan poet, is going to independently present her artwork in Venice. Elegy, an ongoing performance piece presented as a multi-channel video installation, will be on view at the Chiesa di Sant’Antonin, courtesy of London’s Ibraaz charity for art by the Global Majority. Also, U.S. pavilion artist Alma Allen, who claims he was ditched by both his galleries Mendes Wood DM and Olney Gleason when he accepted the commission, is now represented by Perrotin.

“Still Life Painter Poppy Jones’s Career Is on the Move” for Artnet News – Among many interesting revelations in Artnet’s new Intelligence Report is the “Zero to Hero” section, which spotlights artists for whom the number of enquiries made in Artnet’s Price Database grew dramatically in 2025 from zero in 2024. It’s a great way of seeing who has very suddenly got a buzz about them. I interviewed one of these artists, Poppy Jones, who melds photography, printmaking, and painting to create eerie still lifes. They have evidently proven a hit with collectors and are currently starring in their first solo museum show, “Frozen Sun” at Towner Eastbourne.

What to see? What to do?

Here is what I think worth seeing (or appearing to know about) in London, Ghent and Dublin right now.

“Unforgettable: Women artists from Antwerp to Amsterdam, 1600-1750” at MSK Ghent – Not only should more people be going to Ghent asap, but if they go fast enough they might catch this lovely show at the city’s museum of fine arts. It is a survey of art by over 40 women Flemish Old Masters that broadens the picture beyond more recognised names, like Rachel Ruysch, Judith Leyster and Michealina Wautier, to reveal a much wider ecosystem of working women artists. One of my favourite discoveries was the paper cutter Johnana Koerten, who made serious bank by mastering what was then a highly cherished skill. It’s not a medium we know much about these days, partly because not many of the fragile works survive but also because when you dismiss women’s contributions you lose whole art forms in which they excelled. Here’s my write up for Artnet News. Until May 31.

“David Hockney: A Year in Normandie and Some Other Thoughts About Painting” at Serpentine North – Perhaps I do just have a soft spot for David Hockney, who at 88 emanates timeless charm and fabulosity, but I thought this show was better than I expected. I have to admit that I’m kind of sold on the whole iPad painting thing. Hockney’s huge Bayeux Tapestry-style tribute to the changing seasons in Normandy, where he spent the 2020 lockdown, is certainly better in some places than others but I found myself entertained by getting lost in the details. I’m not normally one for goodhearted wholesomeness and bright colours but I like how the enduring popularity of Hockney affronts some corners of the art world. Then there’s a bunch of new works where he pokes fun at the pretensions of abstract art, which he’s always been a bit rude about. As noted in my write up for Artnet News, Hockney said in 2015 that he couldn’t “see the profundity” of Gerhard Richter and now he’s putting squeegee pastiches on a twee little gingham tablecloth. Meow. Until August 23.

When I was at the preview for this show a journalist remarked that British art is really having a moment in London right now. There are notable exceptions, of course, but she did have a point… Hockney, Tracey Emin (Tate Modern), Rose Wylie (Royal Academy), Cecily Brown (Serpentine South), Hurvin Anderson (Tate Britain), Lucian Freud (National Portrait Gallery), and we can’t forget historical kings Wright of Derby (National Gallery) and Turner and Constable (Tate Britain). Nice one.

National Gallery of Ireland – I wish I had a bit more time here but did see some great stuff. They have a sensational Peter Doig of a building by Le Courbusier and an impressive number of works by women artists.

Everything else I liked this month

I am feeling a little recc light this March, which has just flashed by and left me in a daze, as months sometimes do. Here’s all I can muster…

“Louis Theroux: Inside the Manosphere” on Netflix – I was about to write that this is a “fun” watch and then thought perhaps that’s not the best way to describe rampant misogyny. And yet it is true that there are many moments that are quite funny due to the depths of utter delusion on display. I have two takeaways: 1) I’ve stolen this take from TikTok but I do think there ought to be a follow up looking not at the flashy top surface of the manosphere but at the actual impact this kind of scamming has on ordinary men. Surely it would be more insightful to speak to real people who have lost money or otherwise had their lives worsened by all this rhetoric. 2) Obviously the people Louis Theroux speaks to are dreadful but there is something quite classist about the whole set up. I find that the format is rigged in Theroux’s favour, with him confident in having the upper hand by being well-spoken and well-educated. The gentleness of his approach allows him to appear polite, rational, and restrained compared to his uncouth and ignorant subjects. It all makes their attempts to embarrass him in retaliation seem absurd, but in a way that doesn’t feel very satisfying.

Jennette McCurdy content – V late to the party on this one but, having succumbed to curiosity and listened to the audiobook for her rather sordid new novel, I have since fallen down a bit of a McCurdy rabbit hole. Her 2022 autobiography is a great listen thanks to her own deadpan delivery and I’ve also been enjoying her podcast features. I had initially resisted the whole thing because I couldn’t cope with how profoundly unchic Nickelodeon is but, mercifully, this is a takedown. Many aspects of McCurdy’s life do sound quite harrowing but I like her attitude and it’s fun to lift the veil on these once ubiquitous teen shows. It’s strange to remember how puritanical and corny the 2000s sometimes were, yet it’s deviant Millennials not the Gen Zs raised on Euphoria who just long to party.

I Love My Husband (Who Hates Me) in The Cut - There’s been an interesting new development in “heteropessimism” discourse that examines the internet’s love of showering shock and disdain on women who expose themselves as putting up with subpar partners. This Cut article goes into why it’s such an emotional topic. The below Substack is another example that asks whether the pressure on these women to “raise their standards” is ultimately liberating.

Worm Regards

There's Someone Better Out There!!!

Having a boyfriend is embarrassing but has the alternative really become less so? Since the classic 90’s sitcom trope of hot wives and dopey husbands who act like idiot babies, it looks like we’ve come a long way in terms of what heterosexual women should expect from a partner. For one, the word partner has come to mean so much more in the conceptualizi…

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6 months ago · 190 likes · 10 comments · Good Noticings

Thank you for reading this far! Speak soon! xoxo JLT

While on a recent trip to Berlin, I saw a controversial piece of video art. I was totally in awe but, as I enthusiastically scrolled through reviews online, I gathered that this was not the chic reaction. At the very least, a more ethically principled stance would have been disdain for the work’s misogyny, expense, and synthetic emptiness.

The work in question is Pierre Huyghe’s Liminals, a very bleak, digitally-produced film about a “humanlike” figure with a black cavity for a face that crawls and staggers around a muddy, rocky, primordial wasteland. Occasionally the creature appears to scream into a vast and horrifying void, the nature of which is similar to the hole in its own head. The video is staged in a cold, cavernous hall at the back of Berghain, which feels like a cathedral stripped of all hope, ornament, and ambition. I found it sublime.

What interests me was that I totally agreed with the takedowns. Yes, no doubt the installation is lent gravitas by its sheer size and location. And yes, why must its “humanlike” protagonist appear to be a naked, faceless young woman? Does Huyghe have a problem with women? Thing is, I just fail to care much about these salient points when I was enthralled for 50 minutes. And let me tell you, not all those minutes were action packed.

When I met two colleagues for a drink that evening, they suggested that a Londoner’s excitement about the work might be heightened by the novelty of the setting. I can see their point but surely that only explains so much. Then they said the whole thing has something to do with quantum theory, a term that people keep insisting means something but then failing to explain what that is. Anyway, apparently it’s a great passion of Pierre’s, although if the tentative references made in reviews are anything to go by, nobody understands much more than that.

I certainly didn’t know about quantum anything going into Liminals. I’m glad I had no idea what to expect. All they say before you go in is to give yourself time to adjust to the dark. Next thing I knew, me and my friend Bori were stumbling forward in pitch black, our arms stretched out towards the only anchor: light emitted from a distant screen. Even on arrival we could make out little more than the silhouettes of our neighbours.

Throughout the film I kept thinking how I’d probably leave soon but I never did. I really can’t emphasise enough how little patience I have for most video art. Yet here I was glued to this inexplicable otherworld, drained of colour and practically featureless. There was hardly an obvious narrative but I needed to see what happened next. As we eventually left this rather uninspiring corner of the city we trudged past pools of mud and drizzle pelted our faces. I thought of that creature’s plight.

So do I lack discernment? Probably. But I spend a lot of my life considering and describing the merit of art. Sometimes I just want to watch a strange creature scream into a void. It seems pointless to explain why.

Keep scrolling for: our queen Tracey Emin, Emerald Fennell, and… always more Venice Biennale news.

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Interesting art news

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on in February.

Did you ever imagine that your favourite Substacker could become a rising star of the phone screen? Well, times move fast and mediums are many. Here is my TikTok/Instagram reels debut, in which I deploy my usual monotoned drawl to deliver a searing analysis of art inspired by Wuthering Heights. Reviews have been glowing: “Interesting,” “🔥,” and “love this,” for example. Here’s the accompanying article, and do follow @artnetofficial on TikTok for more #ArtHistoryBites!

Venice Biennale news for Artnet News – The hot topic on the art world’s lips is the Venice Biennale, opening this May, and the news cycle is in near constant churn. With some excitement my colleagues have been analysing the newly announced list of 111 artists who will be showing in the main exhibition, “In Minor Keys,” conceived by the late Koyo Kouoh and realised by her curatorial team. Over in the Arsenale, meanwhile, South Africa’s pavilion will remain empty after cancelled artist Gabrielle Goliath’s bid to be reinstated by the high court failed. Given that Kouoh invited Australia’s formerly cancelled (and later reinstated) artist Khaled Sabsabi to exhibit in “In Minor Keys,” (he is now exhibiting in both the main exhibition and Australia’s pavilion) we can only imagine what she would have made of this disappointing news in the same year that she is putting African art in the spotlight. Finally, and very tragically, Henrike Naumann, one of the artists representing Germany, has died at the age of 41.

“The Louvre Names Christophe Leribault Its New Director” for Artnet News – It was only matter of time before Laurence des Cars would have to resign from the Louvre. There was just no coming back from last October’s shocking $102 million heist, which exposed the museum’s woefully outdated and inept systems and plunged it into months of seemingly endless misfortune. “Can’t they catch a break?!” we wondered as we heard of yet another leak AND the latest ticket fraud scandal. I hope that the appointment of Christophe Leribault does usher in a fresh start, but fear Des Cars has unfairly shouldered blame for failures that originated long before her four-year tenure.

“Van Eyck Attribution Dispute Pits Art Historians Against A.I. Firm” for Artnet News – The more I learn/think/talk about AI and the art market the more conservative my predictions become. This is not to say that there aren’t exciting developments being achieved by serious academics who apply AI to art historical or archaeological problems in fascinating interdisciplinary projects. But this technology is clearly not ready to be converted into a reliable product for the market. The more that questionable start-ups draw media attention to these poorly substantiated claims, which inevitably earn the contempt of experts, the less prospect there is of AI earning the trust of traditional art market players any time soon.

The BBC World Service’s “Newshour” – Though TikTok stardom awaits, I would never refuse the old school ways so was delighted to be asked to speak on the radio about Giorgia Meloni’s face appearing on an angel’s body in a fresco in a church in Rome (starts at around 19:50). Apologies to any Italians who object to my suggestion that they “love the outrage” but it is true that they have been known to offer up some of the most fabulously florid and candid quotes.

What to see? What to do?

Here is what I think worth seeing (or appearing to know about) in London and Berlin right now.

“Tracey Emin: A Second Life” at Tate Modern – It will never not be quite thrilling to see a shamefully accurate recreation of my bed on (some) Sunday mornings in a world-leading art institution. I suppose we are getting more used now to the idea that women’s lives are worthy of high art, but it still feels like Tracey Emin is breaking new ground. Both me and my friend Eddy remarked simultaneously how one of her wonderful paintings reminded us of a devastatingly confessional song by Lily Allen, and I think there is an affinity there. If people are still startled by such honesty now, the huge backlash both received in the 1990s and 2000s is no surprise. We may be up against chatbots and fascists, but I suppose the belated adoration for these two gals is one reason to celebrate the 2020s. Until 31 August.

“Max Ernst to Dorothea Tanning: Networks of Surrealism” at Neue Nationalgalerie - Go to this show, a jewellery box of rare gems in beautiful frames, BUT, more importantly, go to this museum. I wish more modern art collections would be like this: a manageable arrangement of standout works with intelligent but approachable wall texts. I didn’t know many of the Germans on display but they were so well contextualised within the global picture. Am devastated to be missing miserable musings on modernity by Otto Dix and other stars of Neue Sachlichkeit opening next month. I mean, an exhibition simply called “Ruin and Rush”? What more could you want? Until 8 April.

Worth a mention: The DDR Museum in Berlin is fantastic, please go if you get the chance. I love any opportunity to step into a reconstructed past.

Everything else I liked this month

Pillion by Harry Lighton – A dark romantic comedy about a teenage boy who gets seduced into a sadistic relationship with a mysterious older man who rides a motorcycle. Very funny, strangely sweet, genuinely surprising and morally ambiguous in a way that films rarely are. And it stars Alexander Skarsgård and Harry Melling (Dudley Dursley) in the lead roles. I highly recommend but don’t read anything else and just go in with open curiosity.

Play It as It Lays by Joan Didion – Read this slim tome in an uncharacteristic two days after finding it on my friend’s bookshelf. It does give a rather dour impression of a woman’s lot in 1970 but obviously melancholy and madness set against scenes of fabulous excess are just timeless and irresistible. As glam evocations of 20th-century Los Angeles go, I do prefer Eve Babitz. She’s a bit more of an upbeat wit and her book Black Swans was one of my absolute favourites from recent years.

Shamefully, I have yet to see Wuthering Heights, though this has hardly stopped me from enjoying the discourse. I think people need to accept Emerald Fennell for who she is. That she was brazenly absurd should have been obvious enough from the fact that she is named after a particularly poncy vegetable–or “perennial herb,” Google insists–yet pronounces it like Chanel. I think she is an amusing antidote to all that straight male sincerity that still dominates the film world but people persist in wanting something else from her. She could hardly be accused of concealing her utter disregard for propriety, if not basic decency. In every interview you can literally see her lips quiver with delight at her own silly provocations.

Fennell should probably stick to making films like Saltburn, a preposterously transparent, nay trollish attempt to garner pity for the plight of the posh, who are shown to be cruelly sabotaged by their own delusions and charming ineptitude… I mean, you weren’t rooting for Oliver were you? Now, if only she would spend less time degrading literary masterpieces and more time cooking up the Farleigh revenge sequel…

Thank you for reading this far! Speak soon! xoxo JLT

Bit of a slim read this time, to make up for last month’s essay. After all, diehard fans of this beloved newsletter will recall that January is a time for retreat. Of course, this was occasionally thwarted. I realised while being cajouled into karaoke while stone cold sober that I have no real hope of learning to say no and sticking to the straight and narrow. Oh well, any opportunity to perform Private Dancer must not be passed up.

One of my January missions was to read Wuthering Heights ahead of Emerald Fennell’s new film. I have nearly finished it and, gosh, rather a lot happens. If you dared to skim a single page you might miss a death or forget which of the characters with the same name is now causing a scene. The overarching theme seems to be that everyone hates each other and they have resigned themselves to lives of abject misery, largely out of pride or spite. People say I give ailing Victorian vibes, but after reading this book I think I’ll keep the costume not the culture.

Anyway, I’m glad I’ve read it and it’s a relief to put an end to too many years spent wondering “who is Heathcliff?” while nodding along so as to appear in the know. But having heard so many people go on about Heathcliff, and now knowing more about him, I’m left a bit confused about what to make of it all. Do we stan? Maybe life was easier when I nodded unaware.

So far, the jury is out on whether we can expect Fennell’s film to be an irresistible, perhaps even elucidating, interpretation, or just a preposterous mess. I imagine that, like many modern twists on beloved tales, it will be divisive, but nobody could outdo the original provocateur Emily Brontë. If you want a sneak peek of what to expect, I recommend this Architectural Digest tour of Thrushcross Grange. It seems the aesthetic will be v fun and more flagrantly absurd than I ever could have imagined, not least that red fluff on the staircase.

Keep scrolling for: a Venice Biennale debacle, Nan Goldin at Gagosian and 28 Years Later: Bone Temple.

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Interesting art news

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on in January.

“Zahi Hawass, the Controversial Face of Egyptology, Rewrites His Legacy on Film” for Artnet News – Zahi Hawass is someone whose name often comes up when writing about new discoveries from ancient Egypt. He is a bit of an abrasive character who I find to be pompous and lacking in charm, but he has clearly achieved some very impressive things, not least making Egyptology more available to Egyptians. He deserves recognition but it is surely time to pass the mantle on to new generations.

“At 75, Magdalene Odundo Is Still a Rising Star” for Artnet News – What a privilege to visit Magdalene Odundo’s studio. I must admit I’ve never been a huge fan of ceramics but hearing her talk about the many traditions she draws from and her philosophical ideas about the vessel must be as close as I’ll get. I think the spare curation of this Xavier Hufkens show is marvellous, really allowing the pots to cut such striking silhouettes.

“Venice Biennale Pavilion Dispute Heads of South African High Court” for Artnet News – It’s not the Venice Biennale without some geopolitical drama. The latest is South African culture minister Gayton McKenzie pulling his country’s submission, a performance piece by Gabrielle Goliath, because it honours the deaths of Gazans. The inevitable uproar has seen him accused of suppressing freedom of expression while Goliath has taken him to the high court. NGOs, meanwhile, have implored president Cyril Ramaphosa to intervene. After all, his actions go against South Africa’s official stance on Israel and Gaza. Is it some consolation that art’s impact is taken seriously enough to cause such a high-profile scandal?

What to see? What to do?

Here is what I think worth seeing (or appearing to know about) in London right now.

“Nan Goldin’s Ballad of Sexual Dependency” at Gagosian – To me this is the “must see” of the moment. I had never really engaged properly with this series, which is being shown in its entirety for the first time in London. There’s not much to say that hasn’t been said but I am interested in how everyday life can be turned into art and the eye that some have for a snapshot that evokes so much more. And finding beauty when the more obvious reaction is disgust. These people feel so real and, in some cases, relatable, yet this world is lost, much like our present will slip away in a second. If you can, go on a weekday to avoid queues around the block. Until March 21.

“David Hockney: Some Very, Very, Very New Paintings Not Yet Shown in Paris” at Annely Juda – This is a sweet show, if a bit of a mixed bag. I was most taken with the pictures of moonlight gardens upstairs, which leads me to believe that, at 88, Hockney may have more of a command of the iPad than he does the vigour to take on a large canvas. Still, we love to see it. Until Feb 28.

“Peter Doig: House of Music” at Serpentine South Gallery – This show is tricky to summarise because there were aspects that were v successful and other rather scrappy things that… may have needed more time in the studio. The concept of mixing music into the art viewing experience works well and, to the right as you walk in, there is a nicely conceived space with inviting armchairs and a fabulously murky, mysterious painting of riverside shops. Other sections of the show did not feel like the best efforts of a generational talent. Sadly, the live set by Jarvis Cocker, pictured above, was a one time only thing. Until Feb 8.

Everything else I liked this month

28 Years Later: Bone Temple – What an interesting film that I enjoyed thinking about for days after. Immediately I decided it was not as good as 28 Years Later, but I needed to recover from the chaos to realise that, actually, it’s useless to compare the two. Judging the film on its own terms, it is a wonderfully bizarre detour that allows us to look beyond the cheap thrills of zombie horror and face the mirror. As in Jacqueline Harpman’s I Who Have Never Known Men, we are left to wonder how we would cope if all the structures that provide meaning were demolished. The film lays out two paths forwards and, horrifying as some scenes are, the brutality is all too familiar. Props to Nia DaCosta for a real spectacle.

The Silence of the Lambs – God this film is good. I hadn’t seen it in about a decade but it has long held a hallowed position in my mind. Rightly so, a recent rewatch confirmed. It’s SO stylishly shot and Anthony Hopkins’s Hannibal Lecter is just…. exceptionally creepy. In a so fabulously not over the top way. Less is so much more when you have that wooden posture, those eyes and grin. And obviously I adore Clarice Starling. Perfection.

London Feeds Itself, edited by Jonathan Nunn – If you are interested in more unsung corners of London’s food scene (and history), I recommend this book of essays from a few years ago. My Google Maps is now littered with places to try and I learnt lots of new things, like that London’s original Chinatown was in Limehouse. I was mooching around magCulture–the Clerkenwell destination for print magazines–the other day, picking out fodder to read in the bath, when I came across the second print issue of Vittles, the largely online food and culture magazine founded by Nunn. I have to say it is a v impressive tome for the quality of its design alone. Each layout is wholly original and offers a fun angle into the story. A good day for print!

BBC Archive – I spent a bit of time this month watching videos from the BBC Archive channel on Youtube. I particularly liked this clip about some Geordies throwing a legal rave in the year of my birth, despite councillor Kathleen’s concerns about the fate of “youngsters” and “pushers.”

Thank you for reading this far! Speak soon! xoxo JLT

I get into some newsy art world topics below, but this intro challenges the unfair animus towards January. Let me make the case that we should cherish this much maligned month.

Years ago, I used to dread January. Yes, it was dark and cold and I had to file a tax return, but that didn’t bother me so much as it was horribly dull. After a month of endless jollity and drinking, suddenly nobody was having any parties or even dinner parties. January was something to be got through, nobly seeing down the days until life became meaningful again.

Now, I see January as a much-needed reprieve from the circus of adult life. Too often I wake up, work, and close my laptop only to dash off immediately to some gallery opening or drinks. It’s inevitably more fun than I expect and next thing I know I’m in bed past midnight. During particularly busy art world seasons, this routine is left on repeat until it becomes disorientating. As the days spin by, my grip on reality loosens and any more serious intentions for how I might spend my time fall away. My fault, for the most part, but nonetheless tiring.

Finally, in January, I can slip into long, candlelit bath and get lost in a proper book that requires proper thought instead of numbing my tired brain with TikTok. Life is no longer about snatching spare moments, but the joy of spontaneously deciding how to spend a whole afternoon. I go for more walks, delighting in the elite weather combination of ice and sun. I have even been known to experiment with bizarrely off-brand, wholesome pursuits like fermenting vegetables and baking bread.

I’ve put off explaining why my attitude changed, because it sounds hideously holier than thou and often proves alienating. But the real breakthrough came about seven or eight years ago, when I decided to jump on the Veganuary trend. (That is, to eat vegan for the month of Jan.) I was awful about eating enough vegetables before this but some environmental guilt pushed me to take on the challenge and it seems I must have found it manageable. At least, the following year I gave it another go and decided to add Dry Jan to the mix.

To pull off a Dry Veganuary double whammy, I had to temporarily forget everything about my normal life and ask myself to submit to a new existence that was slow and spare. It was surprisingly satisfying, exciting even, to discover that I could actually enjoy this meditative process. The highlight of my year would still be that fabulous party I threw, or the wild holiday in Madrid, but it had never before occurred to my cynical self that I could find much meaning in anything else. These newfound feelings developed into more of a philosophy after reading Katherine May’s book Wintering, which encouraged me to embrace the seasons of life and our occasional need to hibernate. January was not a burden but an opportunity.

Being inherently lazy and vulnerable to the call of immediate gratification, I’ve had plenty of bad habits to kick. Many scoff at New Year’s resolutions, but I’ve found that the calm of January provides the perfect conditions to start a new routine. A few years ago, influenced by Veganuary, I decided that eating next to no vegetables was not a suitable way to live. Realistically, I was never going to reach for a bag of carrots in the supermarket, so I began ordering weekly boxes of seasonal organic produce. I also had to accept that maybe every meal wasn’t going to be that exciting but that eating nutrients was more important. I had the time to come up with some simple recipes and I still use them for weekday lunches.

Last January, I bought a walking pad, a sort of treadmill that I installed under my desk. I still walk 10,000 steps most days while I work. Other good habits that I’ve picked up in January include flossing and Pilates. It’s so boring, yet without these changes the more exciting parts of my life would be unsustainable.

This year, I’m trying to conquer my screen time. I’ve set limits via the app Jomo and so far it’s proving effective so fingers crossed. I hope to use the time gained to read more, starting with Wuthering Heights in anticipation of the new Emerald Fennell film. I also want to take an online course to sharpen up my knowledge of grammar.

Dry Veganuary is here to stay. It sets the tone for January as a fresh start from December with entirely different priorities. But the point is never to be too strict. Last January, about halfway through the month, I went to a some art event at Sketch and decided, “fuck it, I want to have fun.” I ordered a Martini and never looked back. That was just the energy that 2025 seemed to call for, and the second half of January was unprecedentedly fun. This year, I have a feeling I’ll be sticking to sober veganism. Good luck with your resolutions.

Keep scrolling for: Hot takes on museum crises, erotic Surrealism, new painting trends and movies for men.

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Interesting art news

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on in December. (Eagle-eyed fans of the newsletter will note this section has moved up and been renamed in a New Year bid to be a more serious person. See the usual art/culture recommendations below.)

“Nnena Kalu Snags the U.K.’s Prestigious Turner Prize” for Artnet News – This was without a doubt the art story of December. It is a very well-deserved win for Nnena Kalu’s refreshing, process-driven practice and a wonderfully exciting breakthrough for learning disabled artists. I recommend critic Eddy Frankel’s take, also for Artnet, for its rebuke of the weird attacks on Kalu’s achievement by various vile and smug old men. I’m excited to see what is next for Kalu and really hope that more curators will now be open to including work by learning disabled artists in their shows. The extent of their previous reluctance to do so is clear from this interview with Charlotte Hollinshead of ActionSpace, which provides studio space and support to Kalu and other artists.

Watching the award ceremony did raise some questions for me about how the rituals of success in the art world could be made more inclusive. It was touching to see the excitement in the room but, personally, I would have felt quite overwhelmed by a large crowd chanting my name amid a sea of flashing lights. Wouldn’t you? I don’t know what Kalu thought about it, and her moment on stage was certainly very powerful. But I suspect some artists will need an alternative to these kinds of high-intensity atmospheres if we are serious about welcoming more people to take part in the mainstream art world. Who wants to take part in the mainstream art world and what exactly it serves is another complicated question that I’ve been pondering without much resolution.

“Tate Director Maria Balshaw to Step Down” for Artnet News – Said it before and I’ll say it again, I think Tate gets way too much hate. It clearly is in a financial crisis and I’m sure it hasn’t handled that very well in terms of lay-offs/pay etc, but many of its exhibitions in recent years have made me proud to be a Londoner. These include an expansive introduction to long-ignored, pre-internet digital artists, a landmark survey of modern art in Nigeria, and a posthumous retrospective for the queer performance artist Leigh Bowery.

I was at that fab pub Retro near Embankment a few months ago and someone was whining on about some or other flaw in the Bowery show and all I could think was, god, trying to put on bolder, more inclusive programming is a truly thankless task. Much easier to be the National Gallery and whack on another yawn of a blockbuster that does nothing to change the narrative but has tourists trudging en masse through the doors. Try to serve Londoners with something new and interesting? All you get is sneering headlines about low footfall and endless quibbling complaints. I think Balshaw should be proud of her wins since she joined Tate in 2017, and I’m curious to see who is brave enough to replace her.

“British Museum Launches Long-Term Loan Program to Former Colonies” for Artnet News – Another ongoing museum crisis is, of course, quite how the British Museum will position itself in the 21st century. Or, how/whether it could possibly shed its reputation as a thieving hoarder with staff who flog ancient treasures on eBay for £40 to become a respected custodian of culture. Director Nicholas Cullinan has hatched a plan to share a larger portion of the BM’s staggering collection of over 8 million objects with the world in the form of long-term loans lasting up to three years. I don’t think it will do much to stem the tide of calls for repatriation but, as the BM is oft want to stress, it cannot legally deaccession objects from its collection under the British Museum Act of 1963. I predict, however, that we will see the Parthenon Marbles returned this century.

“Remembering Martin Parr, Who Captured the Extraordinary Hidden in Plain Sight” for Artnet News – What a loss! Martin Parr’s photographs are just irresistible so it was an honour to do his obit for Artnet. I highly recommend the documentary I Am Martin Parr from last year, now on BBC iPlayer, which, in being nicely Parresque, is a visual delight.

“Running a Studio Is a Fine Art. This Is How Artists Do It” for Artnet News – You sort of know in the back of your head that artists are running a business but working on this story about how they run their studios was certainly eye-opening. Surviving was hard enough before the cost of living crisis and now even successful artists must be inventive and come up with new solutions to making their practices sustainable. I’m in awe.

“Sargent’s Early Portraits of Monet and Rodin Reveal a Rising Art Star” for Artnet News – Ahhh Sargent. He elevates all he surveys. And his early portraits of artist friends are really very charming. If you can’t make it to the Musée d’Orsay before 11 Jan to admire them in person, enjoy my little overview.

What to see? What to do?

Here is what I think worth seeing (or appearing to know about) in London right now.

“Unveiled Desires: Fetish & The Erotic in Surrealism, 1880-Today” at Richard Saltoun – I must confess that I did not see much art last month, being instead trapped in a Groundhog Day cycle of being either at or recovering from a Christmas party. Or terribly ill. However, as elevated gallery shows go, this survey of the erotic in surrealism by Richard Saltoun is this winter’s must see. I caught part 1, which sadly closed on 20 Dec, but part 2 opens on 13 Jan. Part 1 included many cool women artists like Meret Oppenheim, Penny Slinger, Juliana Seraphim, and Renate Bertlmann–something of a market-savvy speciality of the gallery’s–but I was particularly drawn to the wonderful Max Klinger prints Paraphrase on the Discovery of a Glove (1880/81). I should probably be ashamed to admit they were a revelation for me, but what irresistibly creepy works. I particularly like Abduction. Hats off to curator Maudji Mendel, of Rediscovering Art by Women (RAW).

“Joseph Yaeger: Polygrapher” at Modern Art – A short strut away in St James is the spanking new, fresh paint-smelling new home of Modern Art. I was keen to see the exhibition of works by Joseph Yaeger, a 39-year-old painter who is from Montana but lives in London. The moment I saw his work on Instagram I thought it really fits with a trend I’ve been noticing in painting that, to me, is reminiscent of the work of Louise Giovanelli, who I interviewed a couple of years ago. Perhaps also Issy Wood. It is characterised by close crops, most often of faces with ambiguous or charged expressions, or perhaps of parted lips or a hand holding something. Many of these works have shiny, almost twinkling surfaces, which only heighten their synthetic unreality. If they aren’t derived from vintage cinema stills, they certainly could be, and their meaning is coolly ambiguous. Just a feeling or a “vibe.” I like it and I can see why it’s taking off. Until 17 Jan.

Everything else I liked this month

The Straight Story (1999) by David Lynch – There is much discourse these days about the lack of mainstream media for men, an issue that I think is genuinely “urgent” as they say. The stakes are obvious but, aside from not wanting to be mass murdered by an incel, surely we can all agree that men write some good songs and books and also deserve to see themselves in these art forms. TikToks like the below remind us how some men processed angst before the manosphere…. And that we all benefitted.

@cherrycolagyallike why guys #2000sthrowback #bringitback #relatable

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ANYWAY, The Straight Story is the true story of Alvin Straight, a 73-year-old man who travels from Iowa to Wisconsin to see his brother, who has just had a stroke and from whom he is estranged. It is surprisingly straightforward and sentimental for a Lynch film but, where so many moments might have been boring, so many shots repetitive, I was completely captivated. It also struck me as an everyday story about masculinity that is positive without being pandering or implausible. The protagonist is a compassionate brother who chooses vulnerability and humility over resentment, a loving father who still lives with his learning disabled daughter and a traumatised WW2 vet who overcomes alcoholism by facing his past. Highly recommend.

I finally also saw Blue Velvet (1986). Certainly more of an enigma… I suppose it is fun to expose the palatable facades that society must jam over its darker crevices. And if the film wasn’t jarring enough, I was caught in the middle of a startling altercation when a woman shouted “what’s so fucking funny?” at two v. obnoxious men behind me with hollering Jimmy Carr laughs. I suspect that their desperation to perceive the film as a comedy may have been a nervous defence mechanism when feeling unsettled. The BFI’s David Lynch season runs through January.

Thank you for reading this far! JLT

This is a brief intro as everything has been non-stop and I’ve saved my best for the recommendations below. But expect a little international flair as I spent one wonderful week in Paris for Paris Photo fair, which didn’t disappoint.

Keep scrolling for: Gerhard Richter, pork trotters and one super unsettling, AI Christmas mural.

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What to see? What to do?

Here is what I think worth seeing (or appearing to know about) in London Paris right now.

“Gerhard Richter” at the Fondation Louis Vuitton – If you are in Paris before March, this is undoubtedly the must-see show. I wish they would throw away some of the more lurid, abstract monstrosities. After all, the great painter-of-a-generation is 93 years old, and this is a mega, legacy-defining moment. I also hate those paintings with thin lines going on and on that are meant to make us think about ourselves in relation to the painting or some rot. BUT this is all made up for several times over by the astonishing figurative work. I felt a rare kind of mesmerised by their simplicity, shrouding everyday views in the soft, feathery film of memory. It seems to transport me to quiet moments when I’ve felt privately contemplative. It doesn’t really make sense that you could master understatement like that yet do those other things, but I suppose life is full of enigmas. Until 2nd March.

“Sargent: Dazzling Paris” at the Musée d’Orsay – If anyone dares believe they could tire of Sargent’s staggering portraits, the painter keeps a few tricks up his sleeve. Bored of sumptuous gowns, dripping pearls, and lap dogs? Well, this show reminds us that long before all that London glory, Sargent was toiling to make his name in Paris. His beautiful but humble studies of fellow painters and charming snapshots of Venice and Capri will cleanse the palate just in time for the next high society blockbuster. Until 11th January.

“Maggi Hambling and Sarah Lucas: Ooo La La” at Sadie Coles - It was strutting the streets of St James one evening that I heard my name called. It was not a mirage but a moment of immense serendipity as I turned to see my dear friend Eddy leaning on the door of Sadie Coles. Inside was this marvellous show of mostly new work by Sarah Lucas and Maggi Hambling, much of which was inspired by each other. If you want a laugh, go! Until 24 January.

Worth a mention: Turner and Constable at Tate Britain is good if you like that sort of thing. Jacques-Louis David at the Louvre is full of very iconic paintings but of course it is always magical to see The Death of Marat. It has much to answer for, seducing teenagers to study art history and setting them off down highly unpredictable life paths.

Everything else I liked this month

To be honest I’ve hardly had time to pick up a book in two months. So what I liked is really the same as last month: Alan Carr on Celebrity Traitors and Lily Allen’s new album. I am delighted they both continue to be recognised by the nation and the world. The most surprising people have turned to me and proclaimed a newfound love. Long overdue revivals in both cases! Much needed ambassadors for innate absurdity! Perhaps everything is looking up.

The most wonderful news is that I’m going to see Lily Allen in June.

Bar Crispin in Soho – I may be misremembering but it’s my view that openings in London used to end at 9pm, and that was something of a light suggestion. These days, you have to bang on the door to get in at 8. I mean, quite literally, I recently had to hurl my fist at the glass front of a Cork Street gallery to catch the attention of the PR who had invited me, having just watched them decline my call. It worked on this occasion. But this new regime of early nights isn’t very “hard work” friendly. Who is getting to anything in central London at 6pm?! I used not to be seen dead anywhere before 8. Anyway, if you do find yourself turfed onto the mean streets of Mayfair at that hour, and wish to have a lot less money in your bank account, I suggest guiding your group of revellers to Bar Crispin. A chic setting for debauched gossip with titchy tartares, croquettes, flavoured butter, natty wine, etc, you name it.

Au Pied de Cochon in Paris - This is either somewhat sophisticated or extremely revolting, and I shouldn’t cop to it, but I do love a bit of cartilage. It is why I always devoured the drumstick from a roast chicken and have had to insist to waiters that I truly do know what I’m ordering, and yes I do want it, when choosing pork knuckle noodles at one of my favourite Chinese restaurants. So going to Au Pied de Cochon in Paris was like stepping into a dream, or an old film. Good European restaurants always make me feel a bit like that. Everything is beautiful, timeless, and the staff have this reassuring air of being utterly in control of everything so all you need to think about is pleasure. It was a Friday off from work. I had Sancerre, oysters, snails, grilled pig’s trotter with Béarnaise sauce, and an espresso martini for pud. Several times my head lolled back in the winter sun and I exclaimed, “everything is ok knowing that days like these exist.” (And a tip for art worlders: it’s right by the Bourse de Commerce.)

Some final self-promotion

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on in November.

“Nightmare Before Christmas? Brueghel-Inspired A.I. Holiday Mural Shocks London Suburb” for Artnet News - I kind of love this story about an AI-generated artwork allegedly inspired by Breughel that had to be torn down amid public outrage. It’s so perverse that this chilling Christmas scene is even allowed to exist, let alone be installed in a shopping centre as a piece of festive art. Why are these people so overjoyed? Where are they going? Why are there so many hybrid dog-ducks? It truly is despicable. Sometimes when I look at it I feel a creeping panic as order and rationality melt away. Other times I cackle anew at the gall of it all.

“A Hidden Sargent Painting Revives the Story of a Rebel Heiress Who Shaped Art History” for Artnet News – I take every opportunity to write anything about Sargent, and there are many. This portrait of the American heiress-turned-French aristo Winnaretta Singer was publicly exhibited for the first time in over a century at the Met this spring and now at the Musée d’Orsay. It’s a perfect opportunity to deep dive into her rather unusual and scandalous life, and honour an important woman art patron who helped the d’Orsay get Manet’s Olympia.

“Alma Allen Will Officially Represent the U.S. at the Venice Biennale. Here’s What You Need to Know” for Artnet News - People have been waiting a long time for this news, so there was a little wave of excitement in finally receiving it. I can see why people are disappointed but a) I don’t think he is THAT bad and I almost think it will be quite refreshing to see something from a relative unknown who doesn't have an obvious message. Perhaps he will be a dark horse? b) Complaints that someone more important ought to have been “chosen” don’t make sense. Presumably many artists did not propose a pavilion. You hardly need to be that plugged into the discourse to be aware of the taboo around representing the U.S. under Trump, and Allen was ditched by both his galleries for taking on this commission.

I recommend my colleague’s look at the bizarre new American Arts Conservancy organisation behind his project. What are they up to? And why is their prior expertise in pet food? Logic’s demise is why that Christmas mural captures something of our age. I just hope Alan and Lily can save us.

“Demand for Women Photographers Is Rising. Are Prices?” for Artnet News - My report from Paris Photo. If you ever are thinking of buying a piece of art, I think these women photographers are still rather undervalued…

Thank you for reading this far! Speak soon! xoxo JLT

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The art market may be in its flop era but, amid endless correction and contraction, you can always rely on Frieze Week for delusions and excess. I really am relieved it’s over but in the moment it was fun.

My favourite parties and why: 1) White Cube on Monday. I have known for a long time now that I was born to drink champagne but Frieze Week has really elevated this pursuit with an abundance of sushi to be plucked from passing trays. Afterwards, most of my favourite people ended up at the pub around the corner until we had to be ejected. A classic ritual. 2) Ruinart Art Bar on Wednesday evening. Always the best antidote to hours of walking around the tent. The bar staff are attentive enough that you will never see the bottom of your glass as memories of sore knees become very distant indeed. 3) Sadie Coles at the Edition on Friday. A triumph! Hands down the best party of the week and great to see everyone cast away their pretensions while dancing to Caroline Polachek’s set.

More serious thoughts about art may be coming in more serious formats, but I must say that I think Frieze London raised the bar this year. The biggest disappointment was a few bland, blue-chip surveys by the megas at the back. The people want solo booths! And this is where the Focus section really delivers. Those booths, in particular Glen Pudvine for Xxijra Hii and Alex Margo Arden for Ginny on Frederick, were the subject on everyone’s lips. Frieze’s bold move of flipping the map last year, so that smaller, more daring galleries are now front and centre, has paid off and appears to be changing the narrative. Now the talk is less, “gosh…, could London ever be quite as chic (staid) as Paris? well, not according to dull HNWIs”, and more “gosh! There’s a swarm of enterprising activity in this city, with young talent leading the way...”

Which moves me on to the London v.s. Paris debate, which you may call passé but is, unfortunately, alive and kicking. It is a matter about which I have many thoughts but, before I unravel them, I should admit my deep bias. I would stand by London if she were reduced to a wasteland of rubble where you could hardly buy a postcard, let alone a decent painting. Nevertheless, I am pleased with how London has taken this market downturn and endless talk about Paris on the chin. Hardly any of us voted for Brexit and yet we are forced to contend with its consequences every day when all we ever wanted was to have a lovely time and drink champagne in peace. We used to scoff at FIAC but whose laughing now? If our generation’s Blitz is the tyranny of Art Basel trying to snatch that coveted October spot on the art world calendar, well, we’ve kept reasonably calm and carried on.

The good news is that this attitude may have helped? Sales were widely reported to be up from last year. Maths aside though, I still think there is one rather under discussed flaw to the whole Paris as a new global art centre theory. Yes, France’s art market has benefitted from Brexit (though it remains half the size of the UK’s, according to auction results). The problem is, not even the country’s most vocal proponents seem to actually want to go to Paris. Or at least, not for longer than a long weekend.

Surely if Paris were so supreme, everyone would be hopping on the Eurostar in droves, ambling merrily around the arrondissements and devouring baguettes along the banks of the Seine. Yet I see nothing of the sort (Art Basel aside). Why? Because everyone knows that London is where it’s at. Why else would so many willingly board crammed, 2-hour buses just to see a much-discussed exhibit in a Peckham car park? Or engage in endless, tired debates about the role/relevance of the Turner Prize/Turbine Hall? Because it matters. Meanwhile, the Pompidou isn’t even open. And did you hear that the Eiffel Tower is the latest French landmark on its knees?

The examples really are endless but, to keep it brief, I will say only that I recently interviewed the buzzy French artist Christelle Oyiri, who followed up her summer Tate Modern commission with a show for Gathering gallery at Frieze. She is rightly enjoying a major moment but is it any coincidence that this is happening in London not her native Paris? I think not.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Paris. I particularly commend it for its great number of chocolate éclairs, a very elegant and addictive patisserie that puts to shame ghastly Victoria sponge and other dismal English attempts at “sweet treats,” bleugh. But can anyone really put up with much more than a three-day getaway before they tire of Haussmann and skinny grumps?

Anyway, I managed to escape the brutal endurance test of immediately following up Frieze with Art Basel Paris. I am, however, going to Paris Photo next month and have much to look forward to. Shall report back on all sorts: Gerhard Richter at Fondation Louis Vuitton, the Pinault Collection’s Minimalism show, John Singer Sargent at the Musée d’Orsay and Jacques-Louis David at the Louvre, if all its best stuff hasn’t been nicked by then.

Keep scrolling for: Wayne Thiebaud, Celebrity Traitors and Lily Allen’s new album, which has finally arrived after a seven year wait.

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What to see? What to do?

Here is what I think worth seeing (or appearing to know about) in London right now.

“Wayne Thiebaud: American Still Life” at The Courtauld – When I posted on my story that Wayne Thiebaud was new to me but “presumably famous in America” it caused a stir of amusement, so I suspect he is indeed very famous there and that this statement was somewhat ridiculous. Well too right! I totally get it. I was expecting some pretty confections, which would have been more than enough for me, but I must commend the Courtauld for exemplary wall texts that really helped me appreciate the depth of Thiebaud’s ideas, which owe more to great European still-life than Pop Art. “Despite their sweet and infectious child-like pleasure in vernacular Americana, paintings by Theibaud reveal a bitter pang of isolation and melancholy in pop culture,” said one writer. Irresistible! Until 18 January 2026.

“Nigerian Modernism” at Tate Modern – How is it that museums like the National Gallery get zero scrutiny for putting on the least imaginative shows ever? Half of them are borrowed from somewhere else or exploit some art historical heavyweight to cram tourists through the door. Yet mocking Tate has become a national sport. The NG’s director Gabriele Finaldi sure is great at making money and making moves, but all I see Tate doing is exactly what everyone complains that more museums ought to be doing, which is put on original programming that spotlights unsung art. In recent memory: an unprecedented survey of pre-internet adoption of tech in art, that Leigh Bowery retrospective, and now this excellent group of modernists who are largely new to me. Go and vote with footfall! Or stop complaining. Until 10 May 2026.

Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge – It’s a bit embarrassing that it’s taken me so long to see the light but I finally made it to Kettle’s Yard and totally get its charm. The house still contains the modern art collection gathered by Jim and Helen Ede, who donated it all to Cambridge University. I like how humble and small the rooms are yet no less worthy a space to enjoy and appreciate art. No ostentation. Just sophistication and serenity.

Worth a mention: “Lee Miller” at Tate Britain is a good one. The new Turbine Hall commission at Tate Modern is OK. I’d say pop by if you happen to be at the museum as the descriptions of Sámi life by artist Máret Ánne Sara are interesting. But don’t go hugely out of your way, it lacks the commission’s usual “wow” factor.

Everything else I liked this month

The Celebrity Traitors on the BBC – I scoffed when this was first mentioned to me, having long dismissed The Traitors as the sort of traj show adored by those who still like Harry Potter. Ten minutes into the first episode I was hooked. Alan Carr is my national treasure and his operating under a cloak of utter ludicrosity in order to evade all suspicion is iconic and deeply relatable. Look how they overthink while he just guffaws and guzzles rosé before their very eyes. Bliss!

“West End Girl” by Lily Allen – The tabloids could really never. There is nothing they could say about Lily Allen that she hasn’t said herself. This searingly confessional take on the breakdown of her marriage to David Harbour was scribbled out in just ten days and you can tell, in the best way possible. Love it, love her. Is it quite as good as “No Shame,” her deeply underrated classic from 2018? Perhaps not, but it’s certainly more in that vein than that of her 2006 magnum opus “Alright, Still.” We can only conclude that, musically at least, Lily Allen can do no wrong.

I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman – How to talk about this book without writing an essay? Profound doesn’t feel too grandiose a term and I am still reeling. I think it’s best to go in without knowing much but suffice to say the plot is merely a vehicle and therefore labels like “dystopia” and “post-apocalyptic,” while sort of accurate, don’t remotely capture the scope of this book. It reveals existence and survival to be both utterly random and an act of hope, and it is impossible not to connect these themes with Harpman’s own experience surviving the Holocaust. In the end, the question really seems to be: what makes life worth living? While the book never offers easy answers, it makes a good case for the importance of intellectual curiosity. I particularly love how often it describes an “absurd” world because our world is deeply absurd. I strongly believe that the sooner we accept this the sooner we can focus on trying to have a nice time.

Panorama: Undercover in the Police on the BBC – A direly depressing but interesting watch that reminds us of the obvious fact that Wayne Couzens was no bad apple and any attempt to reform the police is still in its infancy. Many investigations/firings happened in the wake of this show but that does nothing to address the fact that the profession reliably attracts wrong’uns.

Some final self-promotion

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on in October.

“A Portrait of an Enslaved Man Hung in a Mansion for Over a Century. His Story Is Finally Emerging” for Artnet News – I saw this portrait while visiting the antebellum mansion Longwood in Natchez, Mississippi in April 2023. The whole trip was pretty disturbing and I’ve ever felt so unsafe but this tour was surely the most shocking moment of all. It entirely romanticised the house, which was built by planation owner Haller Nutt. The rooms were decorated with cotton cuttings while the subject of slavery was hardly touched upon. I’m relieved to hear this portrait is moving to a more appropriate location – it has been jointly acquired by the Mississippi Museum of Art and Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art – and that the life of its subject, Frederick Baker, has finally been properly researched. What the archives reveal is awful but important in countering the false portrayal of Haller Nutt as a benevolent man, which I heard with my own ears as recently as 2023.

“Christelle Oyiri’s Art Is a Powerful, Sensory Overload–Just Don’t Call It ‘Immersive’” for Artnet News – I think we’ll be hearing plenty more about Christelle Oyiri so click for a deep dive on her practice.

“You Can Now See the Guillotine Linked to Marie Antoinette’s Demise” for Artnet News – A fun Halloween moment. I just had to write about the guillotine included in the current Marie Antoinette show at the V&A. Other accessories from her imprisonment include a chemise and a prayer book in which she wrote her final note.

“Robert Rauschenberg at 100: How the Relentless Experimenter Rewired American Art” for Artnet News – I already had great admiration for Robert Rauschenberg but the research for this comprehensive list of everything you could possibly need to know about him has made it apparent that he was a lovely man. Obviously he’s a huge star of midcentury art but I think he deserves even more recognition as, arguably, the first truly postmodern artist.

Thank you for reading this far! Speak soon! xoxo JLT

“Wow the art world is so intense, I felt flung about the room in a spinning carousel of faces saying hello,” I messaged some colleagues just ten minutes into a particularly well-attended press breakfast. “I don’t think I can handle press breakfasts..!”

The art world’s August hiatus is certainly over, but after this initial shock I was quick to return to my old ways. Those futile, early morning (9:30 am) protestations would not stop me from, that very evening, dragging out an exhibition opening until nearly midnight. But that spinning carousel was a mere merry-go-round compared to the absolute Waltzer of the next few weeks, so stacked is London’s pre-Frieze schedule. (If you’ve never been to a British fair/pier, the Waltzer is not for the faint of heart: a bunch of squealing teens being spun about in a rickety contraption by very suspect operators. Iykyk but, if not, see below.)

@deanlm03Can’t beat the waltzers 😂 #waltzers #funfair #deanlm

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Rest while you can or, failing that, keep your mind on the prize: endless Ruinart. I’ll be back next month with the lowdown on Frieze London so stay tuned (subscribed).

Keep scrolling for: My thoughts on the new Marie Antoinette show, a forlorn farewell to Tina Turner’s reign over London’s West End and a never-before-seen Sargent that prefigures his notorious Madame X.

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What to see? What to do?

Here is what I think worth seeing (or appearing to know about) in London right now.

“Marie Antoinette Style” at the V&A – The guillotine looks pretty brutal and I would know, a real one from the French Revolution is in this show! But even that grisly blade was no match for the immortal fabulosity of Marie Antoinette. This homage to the original socialite makes the case that we really ought to call all that wonderful frivolity of the French 18th century not “Louis XIV style” after her dreadfully dull husband, who obviously had no idea about anything, but “Marie Antoinette style” after her. After all, it was the queen who actually set all the trends. Hear hear! And here’s my first look. Until 22 March 2026.

“Kerry James Marshall: The Histories” at the RA – There are plenty of must-sees in London this autumn, but this might top the lot. A sweeping survey of paintings that each merit many minutes of close looking if you want to bask in every detail. Brace yourself and reserve your energy, you’ll need it for some mega-masterpieces in the red-walled room at the back. Until 18 January 2026.

“Heiress: Sargent’s American Portraits” at Kenwood House – Quick, catch this while you can! Let me paint a picture of the perfect early autumnal day you could enjoy next weekend: You hop on the tube to Hampstead, get a takeaway coffee, strut with the person of your choosing through the beautiful heath admiring all the purples and oranges, then you arrive at Kenwood and spend no more than 40 minutes in this exquisite two-room show. You are dazzled by the usual sumptuousness of Sargent but also completely fascinated by the biographies of each of these American “dollar princesses” who married into the British aristocracy and made their mark through philanthropy or politics. It is everything you could reasonably wish for. Until 5 October 2025.

“Dirty Looks: Desire and Decay in Fashion” at the Barbican – It’s nice to see a fashion exhibition that isn’t just unabashed hero worship but, instead, a thoughtful, thematically-guided curatorial exercise. I know absolutely nothing about fashion–and even had to feign an informed nod at the frequent mention of Margiela–but was very lucky to go to the opening of this show with a particularly glamorous fashion journalist friend with an encyclopedic knowledge. He filled me in but the looks are fun enough to enjoy without any real grasp of what’s going on. Until 25 January 2026.

Worth a mention: The new Neo-Impressionists show at the National Gallery is nice if you’re into that sort of thing and did change my mind about Pointillism. Instead of thinking Seurat is overrated, I’ve decided he’s alright. Here’s my write up on the influential collector Helene Kröller-Müller who built the collection.

Everything else I liked this month

Tina at the Aldwych Theatre – In what can only be described as a travesty for London’s cultural scene, the Tina Turner musical has just gone awf the West End. Its golden sign long shone as a beacon of hope over Aldwych, but no more. I raced to catch one of the last shows and was moved to tears by the triumphs of Anna-Mae Bullock from Nutbush, Tennessee. Not to give away the ending but, after escaping evil Ike, Tina lives out her days performing the hits I so adored as a child and being doted on by her German toy boy. An icon, we can all agree. Also 10/10 deployment of I Can’t Stand the Rain when she arrives to London in the early 1980s to record her breakthrough album. All hope is not yet lost, as the show is setting off to tour the UK.

Gerry’s Hot Subs on Exmouth Market – A poutine was ferried to me last Sunday morning after a particularly fun but strenuous party. Maintaining my horizontal position, I clasped my wooden fork and soon enough the first clump of cheese, gravy and chip touched my tongue. I was immediately lost in a myriad of schemes for how I could bring about this situation again in the very near future. If you’d like your waking thoughts to be similarly plagued, head to Gerry’s Hot Subs.

“The Bitter Tears of Klaus Biesenbach” by Ben Miller for the Diasporist – For anyone who followed the drama last year around Nan Goldin’s show at Neue Nationalgalerie in Berlin, particularly the backlash against her powerful speech among the German establishment, I thought this was a great update and take.

Some final self-promotion

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on in September.

“Never-Before-Seen John Singer Sargent Portrait Emerges in Paris” for Artnet News – It’s no great secret that I’m a sucker for Sargent, so you can imagine my excitement when I learnt about this story. A classic case of a buried art historical gem seeming to pass the world by, but not on my watch! Can you spot how it pre-empts Madame X, which was painted less than two years later?

“Christie’s Quietly Deletes Digital Art Department” for Artnet News – It remains interesting to observe the journey of digital art towards (?) wider acceptance. It certainly seems to falter frequently, but there is also something inevitable about its move towards the mainstream given the growing relevance of tech/digital in all parts of life. Ever optimists, those in the “digital art space” have received this latest news positively. They say it can only be a good thing if digital art is subsumed into Christie’s department for 20th and 21st century art. Is that not its rightful place?

“Can Art Reverse Aging? Lynn Hershman Leeson’s New Show Defies the Limits of Time” for Artnet News – Though Lynn Hershman Leeson is widely admired by anyone in the know, she remains frustratingly underrated. I would love to see her be the subject of a big institutional show in the UK and I think audiences would respond well to her thoughtful but accessible explorations of tech’s effect on our psyches.

“Can Italy Protect Its Cultural Heritage From Naughty Tourists?” for Artnet News – I have lived in Italy and, while you can’t knock its innate understanding of how to live a good life, it’s a nightmare trying to get anything done there. So you can imagine my lack of surprise when I emailed both the ministry for tourism and the ministry for culture asking whether they had a plan for tackling misbehaving tourists and each passed the responsibility onto the other. Luckily, others are taking a slightly more proactive approach… but long live the bel far niente.

Thank you for reading this far! Speak soon! xoxo JLT

Is it mad to believe in fate? It is how I feel about having gone to the Courtauld, the ludicrously niche university where I did my BA. You can only study History of Art, there are about 60 people in each year and back in my day it was in Somerset House (where it will apparently return). We’d pile out of lectures into that very courtyard.

Entering my first year, I was but an innocent basic, as my Instagram archive can attest. It was bewildering to meet the cast of eccentrics who had each made the same, unusual life choice to enter this tiny, central London institution. Most people instead seek out campuses, large cohorts, branded hoodies and “facilities”. We had fallen down a very different path. My peers, it turned out, were much more assured, savvy, and culturally evolved than me, but perfectly depraved and, like me, completely obsessed with parties. I owe much of my fabulosity to those next three years.

Feeling as I do, forever indebted to the Courtauld, I was very happy to be asked to provide a quote for this year’s graduation ceremony (see image above). Let the record state that I, in fact, said “welcome to the Courtauld mafia”–a frequent but unofficial way of referring to the great number of ex-Courtauldians that fill up the art world,–but I suppose I can’t be surprised that they edited this out. The sentiment is almost the same.

Coming up with a snappy quote and hoping to appear like a vaguely serious person, I couldn’t start on some woo-woo spiel about how the Courtauld was my destiny, although I do believe it. I had never wanted to go and wouldn’t have if I’d been accepted anywhere else half decent. I was saved from my delusions by a fortunate series of failures in my late teens, beginning with a bout of glandular fever that interrupted my exams, and by the Courtauld’s tendency to look kindly on slightly older applicants who have otherwise missed the boat.

This unlikely turn of events, the people I met and everything that came after has helped me (attempt to) embrace a more zen attitude towards the unexpected or unwelcome. So often we are relieved in hindsight. When speaking to the young, the gist of my advice is usually “don’t panic,” unless they seem particularly unenterprising. After all, I would never be doing what I am doing now if I had actually got any of the dreadful jobs I applied to. My humiliating failure to do so sent me spiralling into a depressive state but also freed me up to go on a champagne-fueled press trip to Paris, which became my raison d’être.

Keep scrolling for: advice for emerging artists from top curators, an in depth analysis of Taylor Swift’s art history easter eggs for The Life of a Showgirl, and the usual art and culture recommendations.

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What to see? What to do?

Here is what I think worth seeing (or appearing to know about) in London right now.

“Kiefer / Van Gogh” at the Royal Academy – This show, which was previously on at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, is so short it makes the Courtauld’s exhibitions look like an ultra-marathon. Each monumental Kiefer takes up a wall so there’s about four to one room but, in the towering sunflowers and outstretched fields, the allusions to Van Gogh are not subtle. My favourite bit was a little corner of pencilled landscapes that the German artist did as a late teen in the mid 1960s. They were made on an actual pilgrimage to Van Gogh’s old haunts in the south of France and much indebted to him. It is rare to see the early development of such a big star and I found it quite sweet. Until 26 October.

Everything else I liked this month

Weapons in cinemas – I remember nothing about Zach Cregger’s last film Barbarian other than I did not adore, but if you are a horror head like me you must rush to see his latest. After a class full of children goes missing in the middle of the night, the perspectives of various remaining characters are nicely layered up to build up a complete picture of what happened. There is a dearth of jump scares or other cheap tricks but things that initially seem harmless turn out to be very sinister while typically unsettling sights, like an encroaching figure on a dark street, are a mere distraction from the real threat. Best of all, the film is surprisingly funny. The midnight screening was a 10/10 start to my bank holiday weekend.

Speedboat Bar in Chinatown – Tables book up fast at this Thai restaurant, so it’s not exactly news to those in the know but it was a discovery for me and merits a mention. Our bowls of spicy noodles and deep fried chicken skin–a much chicer version of pork scratchings for those, like me, who must suppress unseemly impulses–where served with very eccentric, dare I say funky, cocktails in colours like blue and purple and with stylish accoutrements. Suitably energised by these, we tottered upstairs to a charmingly dingy bar to order more and play pool. Good times!

“Chatbots Can Go Into a Delusional Spiral. Here’s How It Happens” in the New York Times – This story is obviously awful but a must read. I don’t really engage with ChatGPT so was fascinated to read about recent efforts to make it less sycophantic and the backlash from those who have formed a close bond with their fawning virtual companion. Which reminds me, I finally watched Companion, that sexbot thriller from earlier this year. Heavy-handed, but a fun romp!

Some final self-promotion

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on in August.

“Waiting to Be Discovered? Curators Reveal How Emerging Artists Can Get Noticed” for Artnet News – I just had write this list of advice for emerging artists after speaking to six leading curators for this article about identifying top talent. I had far too much material to work with and no choice but to leave lots of excellent advice on the cutting room floor. I decided to gather it up and put it all in one place, and it has been v well received! The ArtTactic podcast kindly gave me the chance to speak more about the article, so if you prefer to listen (and don’t feel strongly about the correct pronunciation of the letter ‘r’ (never my fowte)), please do so here:

“How Is A.I. Reshaping the Market?” on the Art Market Minute by Artnet News – Speaking of podcast appearances, I made another on the leading art market podcast, which somehow manages to sum up everything you need to know in about three minutes courtesy of my fabulous Artnet colleagues. I was invited onto this episode to speak about how A.I. is changing things, which we can all agree that it is but, in the art world, things have not been so plain-sailing. Mercifully? Among other things, I state my belief that, in order for potential applications of A.I. in the art world to be trusted and taken seriously, they must be spearheaded by proper academic research rather than shady, short-lived start-ups with zero expertise but plenty of commercial interest.

“Her Husband Made Her Give Up Painting. Now This Overlooked Impressionist’s Market is Soaring” for Artnet News – The more I try to dig up stories about women artists who were acclaimed in their day but have been long forgotten, the more they surface! You’d think the bigger hurdle would be making your name in the first place, not the apparent determination of male art historians to bury it. Anyway, check out the booth of Galerie Pauline Pavec if you’re going to Art Basel Paris.

“Taylor Swift as Ophelia? ‘The Life of a Showgirl’ Art History Easter Eggs, Explained” for Artnet News – Who knew that TS loves Pre-Raphaelite art? I guess it makes sense because those paintings are also a bit OTT and full of random symbolism. And her bookshelf is stacked with art historical tomes.

“Everything You Need to Know About the Bayeux Tapestry” for Artnet News – I honestly don’t think there is anything else you could possibly need to know about this aged embroidery. Swot up. It’s coming home!

Thank you for reading this far! Speak soon! xoxo JLT

The art world has slipped into sleep mode until September so there’s less to report than usual. I, meanwhile, spent last week lying in the Spanish sun, gobbling calamares and giggling over Helen Fielding’s second great masterpiece Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason. I have to exercise great self-restraint when talking about Bridget Jones as it’s too easy to get carried away but, just as an example of what the books have to offer, have you ever seen posh braying described more accurately?:

Perfection.

Anyway, with so little going on I wanted to take the chance to talk about an exhibition that, sadly, I will likely never see. It’s called “Florence and Europe: Arts of the Eighteenth Century” and is on at the Uffizi until 28 November. It contains the work of several artists that I consider to be underrated, however rated they may be, including Jean-Étiene Liotard and Francesco Guardi.

People who know me well know that my favourite century is the 18th. Of course I love Hogarth and Watteau but I finally had a revelation about Venice’s eerie elegance when I saw ambiguous paintings full of masked figures by Pietro Longhi and this painting of a ball by Guardi. Forget Surrealism, it is these pictures that make me feel like I could wander into a mysterious otherworld. Imagine walking to the party along semi-deserted canals, guided by the rippling reflections of moonlight and the occasional echo of a distant laugh.

I also particularly long to admire my first Crespi in person. Giuseppe Maria Crespi was born and mainly active in Bologna and he taught Longhi. His works beguile me with their strangeness. Some have a dark, subtle drama while others are squalid genre scenes but as my eye surveys the canvas it finds it rich with unexpected details. I suspect from his sinister self-portrait and loving attention to drab domesticity that Crespi was a bit of an eccentric.

Finally, please sign this petition calling on the UK government to provide humanitarian aid to Gaza.

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What to see? What to do?

Here is what I think worth seeing (or appearing to know about) in London right now.

Emily Kam Kngwarray at Tate Modern – This is an interesting show dedicated to a once overlooked Indigenous Australian artist who has become very prominent. I instinctively warmed to the batiks and her later, more lyrical works. When I remarked on this to the group I was with they told me that these works also perform much better on the market. It seems that Western audiences feel less challenged by styles that are closer to what they already know but, of course, Kngwarray’s work has nothing to do with the kinds of abstraction we are now so used to seeing.

The Edwardians at the King’s Gallery – Getting to the King’s Gallery requires pushing past ghastly hordes of tourists crowding around Buckingham Palace, of all places, but it is usually worth it. I have an article on Artnet News coming soon about this treasure trove of splendour stuffed to the brim with nice paintings, Fabergé figurines, jewellery and ball gowns etc. Just be warned that it’s a bit overly pre-occupied with the lives of King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra, rather than the Edwardian era more generally, and don’t expect a scrap of post-colonial analysis…

Other notes: If you happen to be strolling through Hyde Park, pop in to Arpita Singh’s “Remembering” at the Serpentine. It’s a pretty mixed bag but I was much more taken by her later stuff.

Everything else I liked this month

I haven’t been particularly delighted by much I’ve seen or read this month, apart from Bridget Jones, of course. I did attempt a few episodes of Lena Dunham’s Too Much on Netflix but the less said about that the better. Had to rewatch this masterpiece of modern television as an antidote.

28 Years Later in cinemas – This film seems to have been quite divisive but I LOVED it. It’s not as good as 28 Days Later, being a bit too chaotic and absurd to have the same gravity, but I found the whole experience completely exhilarating. I think I looked like a caricature of a person watching a horror film, curled up and squirming in my seat or just staring with my jaw dropped. Best enjoyed with a bottle of Picpoul in the front row of your nearest Curzon, where it becomes almost immersive.

Lana del Rey’s UK tour – This was obviously pretty awful, kind of like a humiliation ritual where Lana tests how much you’ll pay to watch a hologram sing Norman Rockwell. But also, imagine listening to a stadium scream “I’M TIRED OF FEELING LIKE I’M FUCKING CRAZY.” Amazing.

Some final self-promotion

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on in July.

Inside Egypt’s Monumental New Home For Its Antiquities for Apollo – I went on a particularly special press trip to Luxor in May to be shown ancient Egyptian art by Cambridge scholars who made wonderfully generous tour guides. I stopped off for a night in Cairo on my way back and had to visit the much discussed Grand Egyptian Museum (GEM), which was somehow more awe-inspiring than I had expected. It’s $1 billion pizzaz and ultra-short wall texts felt like a massage after three days spent stumbling around underground warrens hearing a million facts a minute. This is a letter I wrote about it for Apollo, also in the July/August issue. If I may say so, I think my observations at the end about how this mammoth project fits into Egypt’s broader tourism strategy are spot on.

Venice news for Artnet News – Though I dread the effect of Venice’s bridges on my knees, one thing I love about my job is covering the news around the Biennale. There is always drama as contemporary art mixes with politics and everyone must decide how to navigate some pretty sticky situations. The good news is that Khaled Sabsabi has been reinstated as Australia’s representative after his shock cancellation rocked the country’s art scene. But what do you make of this obviously provocative proposal by Andres Serrano for the U.S. pavilion? How would it work in practice? Would there be a boycott? Who is going to be picked?! Stay tuned.

Is It Time to Reconsider the Artistic Value of Ice Age Artefacts? for Artnet News – I was pretty interested by this attempt to appreciate prehistoric artefacts for their universal artistic impact rather than solely as strange relics we must interpret for clues about an unimaginable way of life. As the curator of the exhibition in Yorkshire put it: “Image having to look at Picasso through the lens of context, provenance, the nature of the paints and the dating, and never being able to respond to his pictures without all that forensic data.” It raises interesting questions about our desire to not only represent the world around us but distort, abstract, and stylise it.

How Jenny Saville Reclaimed the Female Nude for Artnet News – She may have gone a bit off-piste in recent years but I hope this offers a useful overview of what Saville’s work was and is trying to do for anyone yet to visit her NPG show.

Thank you for reading this far! Speak soon! xoxo JLT

I was recently encouraged to get a Substack after telling some friends about a dinner I attended in April thrown by an artist and a Michelin-starred chef. This isn’t quite the flex it seems because everything on the menu was roadkill. Yes, animals that had been recovered from the edges of outer London’s busiest motorways.

When we, a bunch of press, arrived at arts organisation A/Political’s London venue, we had little idea of what lay in store. The only instruction had been to wear all black and, since my aesthetic is already Victorian saddo, it was easy to comply. Once inside, we found ourselves carelessly signing consent forms agreeing that if we died it would be our fault (or at least, it wouldn’t be theirs). Perhaps it’s true that anyone, like me, who has watched The Menu ought to have better survival instincts.

After donning matching blue smocks, we were ushered towards two long, metal dining tables in a room awash with red light. Though we had passed a freezer filled with the aesthetically arranged carcasses of mangled badger and crow, nothing we were served was too outlandish. Mainly traditional game like pheasant and some venison that was a tad rare for meat you know has had a head start on its decay. I ate it anyway, in the spirit of performance art.

Considering some of the sights I saw in the artist Petr Davydtchenko’s grotesquely provocative cookbook Death Book, I got off pretty lightly. I’ll leave a description of the very worst recipe in a footnote to spare the screamish.1

In the end, the evening was great fun and the wine they chose to pair with each of about seven small dishes was delicious. So much so, that everyone tottered upstairs for more drinks afterwards.

Anyway, the point of this story is that hopefully more absurd things will happen soon and they will be recounted here. So please do subscribe if you’d like that and please do share with anyone else you think might enjoy.

As for other glam happenings, it’s been quite the week of art world parties in London. You can usually judge how good a party is by whether or not I’m there, so rest assured that the Serpentine Summer Party and Tate’s 25th must’ve been miserable affairs. Apollo’s centenary dinner, meanwhile, was top-notch. At the National Gallery, in the presence of Whistlejacket no less, the whole thing was the height of sophistication… but of course! It is Apollo.

What to see? What to do?

Here is what I think worth seeing (or appearing to know about) in London right now.

“Colour and Line: Watteau Drawings” at the British Museum - Watteau can do no wrong. When I think of the ancien régime – my Roman Empire – I think first of his fêtes galantes. Has any artist captured the feeling of frivolity better? If you agree, you MUST go see this free display “Colour and Line” tucked up and the back of the BM. Half the drawings are of someone’s back and yet you’ll get lost in them for minutes at a time. Such is Watteau’s ability to render folds of resplendent material with just a few lines and a shimmer of white pencil. Who are we to resist? Until 14 September.

“Hamad Butt: Apprehensions” at Whitechapel Gallery - Ever think of the 1990s and tire of how society worshipped the hollow provocations of boring straight men who appeared to be very, very pleased with themselves? This show is for you. As I explain in this article, there are rumours that Damien Hirst stole the idea for his earliest animal sculpture, A Thousand Years (1990), from a lesser known Goldsmiths peer Hamad Butt. His version, Transmission (1990), is a much subtler work that used the life cycle of the fly to ruminate on societal taboos around contagion and how we inherit “knowledge.” Butt died of AIDS-related illness in 1994 and this show is a turning point in rescuing his practice from obscurity. Until 7 September.

“Abstract Erotic” at The Courtauld - When I did my BA at The Courtauld one of the best courses was on 1960s sculpture in New York. Writing-wise, it was a game changer because once you can muster an essay about some felt Robert Morris hung on the wall or latex Lynda Benglis poured on the floor, coming up with something to say about most other art is a doddle. My wonderful professor Jo Applin has curated a small show starring Louise Bourgeois, Alice Adams, and Eva Hesse with works from the 1966 show “Eccentric Abstraction” by feminist art history icon Lucy Lippard. It was unlike anything that had come before and would define the course of contemporary art, so it is time to look again at these humorous, daring works. The endless imitations are boring but the originals still surprise. If you want to understand what so much of contemporary art is trying to do, go see this show. Until 14 September.

Other notes: Christelle Oyiri’s inaugural Infinities Commission at Tate Modern is fun and free but very intense. You will leave feeling like you’ve just been flung out of a club into broad daylight and need to go straight to bed. Jenny Saville at National Portrait Gallery is nice but the highlights are undoubtedly her works from the 1990s and everyone I’ve spoken to agrees. A lot of the recent stuff is v. Instagram-friendly though, if that’s a plus?

Everything else I liked this month

TEFAF on And Just Like That… - The makers of AJLT know they needn’t worry much about quality because the show is automatically bible for all fabulous members of society, such is SATC’s legacy. The extra fabulous who work in the art world like our favourite gallerina Charlotte were jolted back into the real world upon hearing TEFAF used as her excuse for avoiding a dire sounding trip to Virginia. The European Fine Art Foundation? She admitted it sounded like a lie but we knew it was true. Rakewell’s expert analysis for Apollo is all you need to read on what else was or wasn’t true about those scenes at TEFAF… and doing (art) deals in the club.

What It Feels Like for a Girl on the BBC - This eight-part show based on the memoir of journalist Paris Lees is set in Nottingham in the early 2000s and follows the teenaged Byron as they fall in with a wild new group of friends and implode their life through non-stop parties and committing crimes to impress a boy. The whole thing is wonderfully squalid and rarely predictable but finds meaning in Byron’s journey towards realising their gender identity.

“Hidden Portraits: The Untold Stories of Six Women Who Loved Picasso” by Sue Roe - I can never resist a good biography or memoir. Especially about historical women who lived relatively humdrum lives and don’t usually get a look in. Lifelong fidelity wasn’t really Picasso’s thing but it is interesting to consider the stories of his affairs and marriages from the perspective of the ambitious women who equally wanted and benefitted from them, for a few years at least. Delved further in this article for Artnet News.

Before Sunrise (1995) - Picked this romantic film by Richard Linklater on a flight and was immediately charmed. Over a swift hour and a half we follow a French girl and American boy who meet on a train going through Europe and spontaneously spend one night in Vienna together, all the while knowing they may never see each other again. Though revealing of their age, which is early twenties, their conversation is sweet and full of the little frictions that come with getting to know someone new.

Floor 7 Malaysia Tea Room in Holborn - I went to this small Malaysian restaurant after a recent trip to the BM and and it was sensational. I had the Chee Cheong Fun with Chicken Curry and had to stop myself gushing ‘MMM!’ after every bite. As that wouldn’t really have been very chic.

And here is a surreptitious snap of the most glam attendee at London Gallery Weekend.

Some final self-promotion

Here are some of the things I most enjoyed working on in June.

A Fresh Look at 1940s Art and Design Offers Plenty of Surprises for Artnet News - I saw this show about the 1940s at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, which btw is staggering and requires at least a day if you ever happen to be in Philly. I had a fondness for the decade as a child and reject the tendency to see it as fuddy-duddy and irrelevant. As I note in the article, the 1940s make a bit of a depressing comparison with the 2020s. We could do with a bit more of a “make do and mend” attitude if not an international alliance against fascism…

Who Was the Black Figure in This 17th-Century Portrait? A Rare Letter Holds Answers for Artnet News - If you’re a journalist wishing to promote the artistic splendours of Claydon House, beware their strict policy against giving out free images. And please first google “Mary Lawley and Peregrine Tyam portrait” before you read this article, which contains fascinating archival insights first reported in the British Art Journal. It includes an irresistible description of someone “half drunck for of late he keeps some very ill company and setts with shabby fellowes at the alehouse but never would to any body confess who his comrades be.” To the alehouse!

How Top Curators Spot the Artists of Tomorrow for Artnet News – What it says on the tin.

Has London’s Art Scene Hit a Saturation Point? for Artnet News - A selection of my favourite shows at London Gallery Weekend and some sense of the scene. If you see anything go see Derek Jarman’s black paintings at Amanda Wilkinson Gallery in Farringdon, still on view until 11 July.

Thank you for reading this far! Speak soon! xoxo JLT

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