On entering the H J Hyams room (Room 1) of the National Gallery you are faced with an enormous, circular painting depicting the hours of the day. And this is just a half-size maquette of the final painting which was created by Edwin Austin Abbey (1852-1911) to adorn the ceiling dome of the House of Representatives in Capitol building. Created in1809-11, it is playful and decorative and great fun to view – the dancing figures gambol in sunny daylight and then disappear into darkness at night. Alas, Abbey died before he could see the work completed.
I had no knowledge of Edwin Austin Abbey before seeing this small show which shows what a proficient draftsman he was but very imaginative too and used his illustrative training when he moved into fine art and the creation of huge murals.
I was very struck by this imagined portrait of the American hero, Daniel Boone, who figures, top right in this outline painting for the state house at Harrisburg. I have a soft spot for this heroic figure. As 9-10 year-old child I lived in California and at school I was fascinated to learn about Daniel Boone exploits as a pioneer into the centre and west of America. I even wrote a poem about him: “Daniel Boone on his way to Kentucky, Got halfway there and thought himself lucky, for buffalo paths and Indian traces, helped the explorers and made happy faces.” OK, it’s early doggerel but I was very pleased to see this sketch of my childhood hero.
Another of my early heroes also found a place in the epic painting. It’s a very charming glimpse of an artist who deserves greater awareness. The show is on in Room 1 until
Above is a detail from probably the most famous painting by Joseph Wright, known as Wright of Derby – the town where he was born and worked. The Air Pump shows an audience watching a scientific demonstration. The air is being pumped out of a glass flask and the bird inside is about to suffocate. The girls are clearly distressed, the adults fascinated and the scientist resembles a wizard, in a loose gown, playing God over the life of the hapless bird. There is so much going on in this compelling picture which gives you so many perspectives. But the most striking element is Wright’s ability to capture the lighting of the scene. A single candle, hidden behind a large goblet containing a skull, illuminates the faces and highlights the reactions.
This wonderful exhibition not only brings the best of Joseph Wright’s paintings from the 1760s-70s but also assembles some of the instruments and props which feature in the pictures. For example, below, we see a painting entitled The Orrery which was an extraordinary teaching instrument for demonstrating the movement of the planets and the earth’s place in the heavens. The two boys are transfixed by the tiny orbs which are shown to move around each other.
Tenebrism is the word given to the style of painting associated by Italian artist Caravaggio and describes the use of an extreme form of ‘chiaroscuro’ (meaning light and dark). The drama derived from seeing, and not seeing, objects is brilliantly conveyed in these picture. As a viewer you are drawn to the illuminated faces and the expressions responding to the action but then you wonder what is happening in the shadows? Each picture contains so many questions and invites you to puzzle over the subject as you scan the painting absorbing the story.
Above is The Alchymist in Search of the Philosopher’s Stone, Discovers Phosphorus, and Prays for the Successful Conclusion of his Operation, as was the Custom of the Ancient Chymical Astrologers. Wow! Quite a title, but what a picture, there’s so much going on. Amazement on the face of the alchemist and bewildered fascination by his helper making notes at the desk by candlelight. And capturing the bright light of phosphorus must have been a huge challenge.
I love this painting of the girl reading the letter. You can’t see the candle but it’s behind the paper, making it transparent, but for the shadowy fold. And is the man leaning over her shoulder about to grab the paper away? What was she reading? Oh, so many questions. This painting is up there with works by Vermeer but with a more rosey hue and earthy atmosphere.
Above are a couple of great examples of ‘tenebrism’ showing not only Wright’s skill at capturing light but depicting the enduring artistic quest to capture form by using light and shadow in the context of the art class.
And above is a detail from a painting of two boys fighting. You can see that things are turning violent as one boy’s ear is grabbed and pinched with his assailant in the foreground represented in shadow. And I loved the picture on the right of A Blacksmith’s Shop. Nighttime work, with the moon beyond the clouds and all eyes focused on the action on the anvil. Wonderful.
Above is a self-portrait by Joseph Wright of Derby done with pastels early on his career. Clearly he was perfecting his ‘tenebrist’ skills but, quite playfully, representing himself in the style of an ‘Old Master’. What a master of his craft he was. This is a great show. It’s on at the National Gallery until 10th May 2026.
I had no idea what to expect when I attended the press preview for this show. My knowledge of Indian history is scant. For this exhibition we were introduced to the work generated by Benode Behari Mukherjee, his wife, Leela, daughter Mirnalini and students who lived and work an an idyllic-sounding art school established in Santiniketan in 1919. This was a time when Indian artists might look to the West for influence but were determined that their work would be definitively Indian, and reflect their deep-rooted culture.
I was impressed by the variety of work and, at times the visceral nature of the imagery. Above is a water colour sketch on paper by Leela Mukherjee demonstrating the influence of Matisse through bold, vigorous brush strokes.
I really liked this trio of work. On the left is a paper collage made with cut outs by Benode Mukherjee. He became blind in his 50s but continued working and teaching. His daughter, Leela, worked closely with him, describing what she could see around them and helping him interpret his art by preparing and cutting up paper for him to collage. He would then, intuitively, ‘feet’ his way into these later works. In the centre is a carved wood mosaic by K G Buramanyan (a student) which relates to a monumental mural commissioned in 1962. The mural stretches some 25 metre and used 13,000 terracotta tiles – examples are shown on the right.
These two paintings caught my eye. On the left is a watercolour by Mrinalini Mukherjee which is like an abstract landscape using great colours. And on the right is a very Matisse and Picasso-inspired ‘Reclining Woman’ by K G Subramanyan.
The sculptures are interesting. On the left is Night Bloom II by Mrinalini Mukherjee, a partly-glazed ceramic made with folds of clay which convey the idea of a woman seated in the lotus position. They clay bears impressions of textiles. And on the right is her intriguing sculpture named Jauba, from 2000 made with hemp and steel.
I found this lithograph, Landscape 1968, by Gulammohammed Sheikh quite threatening with intimations of unsettling goings on. And on the right is an etching entitled Riot from 1871 where the violence is evident.
A very intriguing show. It’s on at the Royal Academy until 24 February 2026.
Above are three portraits of Cecil Beaton. On the left is a very posed photograph showing his youthful beauty, in the centre is an impressive oil painting by Christian Bérard, which shows a kind of wistful self-confidence and on the right is a self-portrait in pen, ink, wash and pencil made in a New York hotel room in 1928 – a young man with a focus on his career, complete with camera on the right, behind the wine glass, framed by fashion photos and sketches.
Cecil Beaton was born at just the right time. Coming of age in the early 1920s he was fortunate enough to fall in with a crowd of creative, free-living and very wealthy young people who lived in fine houses and threw wild parties. They look extremely pleased with themselves in the photo above but they are having fun; and, after the horrors of the First World War, which they were too young to take part in but were no doubt affected by, you can see how that whoosh of expressive freedom must have captured these Bright Young Things and propelled them into a creatively brave new world.
The show begins with Cecil Beaton’s gorgeous photographs of lovely society ladies and celebrities. Who wouldn’t want to have been photographed in a sumptuous gown, surrounded by flowers, frills and frou-frou? What a wonderful record of beautiful youth.
Cecil Beaton was far more than a photographer. He was an artist, designer and fashion designer. I rather liked the swift watercolour sketch he made for Vogue (on the left) of Wallis Simpson. He didn’t like her at first but was impressed by her transformation into ‘all that is elegant’. And on the right is his frontispiece to Cecil Beaton’s New York in 1938. He adored New York and he was a stalwart photographer and front cover designer for Vogue magazine.
Of course the highlight of Cecil Beaton’s career was his work on the staged musical My Fair Lady. He created all the costumes and set designs for the theatre and, when the musical was filmed in Hollywood in the early 1960s, he won two Oscars for his work. The magnificent evening dress worn by Audrey Hepburn is on display.
And here he is in a photograph on the set of the film with Audrey Hepburn.
Well, this is a charming exhibition which transports you back to a world of late Edwardian opulence, manners and mores of ‘flapper days’ and the celebration of flattering fashion when women (more than men) could truly dress up for important events. Cecil Beaton’s naturally theatrical style fuelled ‘dressing up’ in its purest sense. What a fun time, and what a fun show.
It’s on at the National Portrait Gallery until 11th January 2026
In the beginning, at the turn of the last century, artists in Nigeria looked to the training offered in at London art establishments; they produced figurative works in a very charming way, but the style was western rather than African. Then, gradually, as the country approached independence from Great Britain in 1960, things started changing.
There was a return to the indigenous traditions of African art, a joyful, colourful expressionism which brought a completely new concept to Nigerian artists’ work.
It’s great to see the way abstraction fuses with figurative and decorative art.
The show has assembled a wide range of sculptures, employing different materials.
I’ve been a fan of Ladi Kwali for some time – since a wonderful exhibition of African ceramics at Two Temple Place. She was a fantastic ceramic artist who combined her western training in pottery with Nigerian visual arts traditions; there’s a great selection of her beautifully decorated pots within the show.
It’s so refreshing to see a show which is so rich in colour, variety of texture, materials and sheer exuberance at the joy of creating art. And what a refreshing change to see the work of artists who are not preoccupied with likeness or accurate depiction of places, people or objects but who create personal impressions of what is seen and felt within their world.
Nigerian Modernism is on at Tate Modern until 10th May 2026
Lee Miller was a very beautiful woman. This sensational retrospective begins with images of her as a model in her early twenties and she is gloriously photogenic. But it didn’t take long for her to grow weary of being the focus of images and to start taking her own photographs.
I’m always drawn to a collage, of course! And this work, centre, is fabulous mingling of cutout paper and photographs featuring the surrealist painter Eileen Agar. Lee Miller became friends with many of the surrealist painters, spending time with them in Paris and the South of France.
But it’s her work as a War Correspondent in Europe during the Second World War which is so very moving and affecting. She bravely picked her way through war-torn streets, capturing the images of displaced people, injured fighters, hungry children and ruined buildings. She sent her photographs back to Vogue magazine (for whom she worked) but they found many of her images too brutal to publish.
Here’s the uniform she wore and her camera.
The images we were not allowed to photograph at the press preview include the famous shot of Lee Miller in Hitler’s bath in his former apartment in Munich. With her associate, David E. Sherman, they entered his private bathroom after taking pictures of the horrors of Dachau.
So many of the photographs emit a palpable atmosphere which speaks of the time the pictures were taken but also convey Lee Miller’s barely-bottled anger at the places she was seeing, the people she met and the dreadful cruelty that had been inflicted on victims from the concentration camps.
Above is a photograph of Lee Miller’s son, Antony Penrose and Pablo Picasso. Antony knew very little of his mother’s extraordinary past. After her death he uncovered huge boxes of photographs stuffed into the attic of the family home at Farley Farm in Sussex. It is this astonishing archive we are able to see at the exhibition.
The show is on at Tate Britain until 15th February 2026.
Immortalised in many art forms and still celebrated in fashion and style, Queen Marie Antoinette’s influence is legendary. Mention her names and the words, ‘let them eat cake’ spring to mind, but it’s likely that she simply had no idea of the poverty of the French people in the 1780s which precipitated the country into revolution while she lived a life of palatial splendour with royal funds to indulge her interest in fashion.
She was an attractive woman who clearly understood the power of image. Judging from the number of portraits and sculptures on show at this brilliant exhibition, she was always eager to pose for artists. And artists clearly responded to her interest in fashion, eagerly capturing the details of her outfits.
it’s fascinating to see the black lace ‘collerette’ which featured in a portrait miniature by Francois Dumont – and was lent to the artist so that he could capture the details.
Oh, the costumes! There’s an amazing collection of gowns – not necessarily worn by Marie Antoinette but come from the 1780s and 90s and are very similar to many of the dresses and clothing featured in the portraits. It’s astounding to see the detail in the couture and opulence of these dresses.
The jewels and the shoe (above) were known to have been worn by Marie Antoinette and the embroidery was, apparently, a sample of an over-dress which a couturier would have presented to her for a potential gown. It’s very fitting that this show has been sponsored by Manolo Blahnik.
Anyone who watched Bridgerton – the total fantasy version of Regency Britain – will recognise the extreme wigs and hair dos. Clearly things reach heights (literally) of fantasy in the court of Marie Antoinette as hair was teased ever upwards and adorned with fantastical decoration.
Queen Marie Antoinette’s reign ended badly with the brutal blow of the guillotine in 1793. There’s this very graphic drawing of the crowd cheering as the decapitated queen’s head is held aloft by the executioner. And the death mask, we are told, was taken soon after her death by Madame Tussaud. It’s all such a brutal end and she was certainly not guilty of any crime other than representing an overblown, indulged and superfluous monarchy.
But her style lives on. It’s great to see how contemporary designers, in the years since her death, have found ways to represent her style using modern materials. I did love the Moschino wedding cake dresses designed by Jeremy Scott and Vivienne Westwood’s Marie Antoinette bridal dress.
Kiefer is a texture artist. It’s worth seeing this show just for the chance to get really close to the canvas and see how much has been applied to the surface. There are layers of paint, straw, seeds, lead and gold leaf. In this painting, above, Kiefer is channelling Van Gogh’s Starry Night, but he uses a wild selection of materials to celebrate that famous work.
The show occupies three rooms and the central space is dedicated to a small selection of Van Gogh pantings and drawings of the countryside and the glories of nature. And yes, all that texture is there, but it’s done solely with daubs and layers of oil paint.
In his travels through Van Gogh’s landscape Kiefer was also interested by the people he encountered. Many of them were too busy working in the field or agricultural employment to pose for him but the few portraits in the show convey a similar simplicity of drawing and charm.
On the left is my detailed photograph of a huge work in the first room which shows the vigorous way the straw and chaff and has been fixed to the canvas and the addition of all the other materials. And on the right is Kiefer’s own homage to Sunflowers made from a collage of woodcuts on canvas with acrylic and shellac. For Kiefer, just as for Van Gogh, the sunflower is the symbol of our ‘condition of being’. The sunflower is connected to the stars and by day moves its head towards the sun. In the night the petals close and towards the end of its bloom it declines, bending its head towards the earth.
What an intriguing show. It’s on at the Royal Academy, London until 25th October 205
Above left is one of Jenny Saville‘s audacious and visually compelling nudes from the early 1990s which kick-started her career after graduation from Glasgow School of Art. She was ‘discovered’ by Charles Saatchi and her work was included in the seminal exhibition Sensation at the Royal Academy. And on the right is a bold and colourful portrait from 2020.
I was very impressed by the more recent charcoal and pastel on canvas works from 2019- 21. The influence of renaissance artists like Michaelangelo is clear to see but her execution of these monumental nudes is so confident and brave. Likewise, the smaller studies of heads and the wonderful ‘tangle’ of bodies with sgraffito are fabulously made.
I was fascinated by the variety of colour, technique and painterly styles used in the creation of the more recent portraits. There’s obvious layering of pigment and a wild bravery in then covering detail with bold brush strokes of single colour followed by scratching and squiggles of new colour on top.
The exhibition is presented chronologically with the more fleshy nudes and portraits at the start and then you can see the evolution into wild introduction of opposite colours, daubs, splashes and energetic, gestural strokes across areas of painting which other artists might consider as ‘finished’, but Saville finishes all her new pieces with wonderful bravura additions which give the final works such energy.
It’s a wonderful show and I urge anyone with an interest in contemporary art and figurative painting to visit the National Portrait Gallery and revel in this visual feast.
Oh, my delight at finally seeing Edward Burra’s amazing painting, Harlem, within the epic retrospective show which is on at Tate Britain.
As a child I used to pore over my copy of Drawing & Painting for Young People by Mervyn Levy which contained this picture. I was very drawn to the narrative feel of the picture and puzzled by the environment of which I had no understanding. The figures looked alien but intriguing and I used to wonder how the painting was made. Well, what a joy it was to see the image for real and to marvel, like a child, at the astonishing use of watercolour, the detailed drawing and amazing atmosphere.
Edward Burra suffered from rheumatoid arthritis and was in constant pain. He became an artist, and rather than using oils to paint at an easel, he made his work on paper while seated at a table. Born in 1905, the young Burra was drawn to London during the hectic 1920s, loved jazz clubs, gin joints, nightclubs and seedy pubs. He recorded the bohemian life in Paris, the Black area of Harlem in New York where he adored the jazz clubs. He loved the sailors in Toulon and Marseille, flamenco dancers and toreadors in Spain.
It’s fascinating to see his work close up and understand the detailed work that went into the creation of his pieces. Clearly he used magazines and photographs as reference and tended to collage images together to compose his paintings.
His enjoyment of ballet and theatre found form in commissions to create costumes.
Towards the end of his life (he died in 1976 in Hastings) he concentrated more on impressions of the countryside and English life. His work became much larger, with pieces of A2 size paper pasted together.
In one of his final works he places himself in the centre of the picture, eating a pasty, surrounded by people from the now disused tin mines in Cornwall. There are ‘ghostly’ figures whose images seem to ‘bleed’ through the contemporary figures.
This show offers a rare chance to review the work of a highly original and clever artist. I guess you’ll be right in thinking I admire Edward Burra! It’s on at Tate Britain until 19th October.
Paper Places 