A blockbuster show at Tate Britain celebrates two of the the UK’s most acclaimed artists. Born a year apart, JMW Turner (1775-1851) and John Constable (1776-1837) both pushed their art into entirely new aesthetics and left a lasting legacy in the development of British art, paving the way for the Impressionist’s movement and everything that followed.

The works of Turner and Constable must be amongst some of the most recognised images in art history. Say the words Flatford Mill or A misty sunset in Venice and most of us will conjure the familiar bucolic image of a Suffolk Mill with a horse and cart or the beauty of Venice seen through a haze of cloud and watery sunshine. These works are amazing. But the history of these two artists is more entwined and their approach more similar than I had realised. This show, entitled Rivals and Originals, charts their artistic development as contemporaries and adversaries.

Both Turner and Constable were dedicated to art from an early age. Turner, you could argue, had the more difficult journey – the son of a barber based in Covent Garden, London, he demonstrated his skills at an early age and his father did his best to support his son’s desire to paint but he was not of the class expected to choose art as a career. Constable was born into middle class comfort in Suffolk and had to convince his family that he did not want to follow a conventional profession but devote his life to art. The pair developed their styles through study of Old Masters and a desire to push a narrative element into their art while recording contemporary life.

Sometimes it’s hard to differentiate between them – just look at these two, above. On the left is Turner’s Snow Storm – Steam-boat off a Harbour’s Mouth and on the right is Constable’s swift oil sketch called Rainstorm over the Sea. Both of them were fascinated by the power of nature and the constantly changing sky and weather conditions. They spent all their time sketching landscapes and painting the scene directly onto whatever surface they brought with them.

Both must have spent hours observing clouds in their infinite variety and using immediate sketches to dramatic effect. On the left is a selection of cloud studies by Constable and on the right is Turner’s massive painting Snow Storm: Hannibal and his Army Crossing the Alps.

My takeaway from the show, apart from having thoroughly enjoyed it, was the chance to see the evolution of these two artists from detailed work, which might be as literal and accurate as possible, towards a much freer, expressive way of working. Both appear to have created their work at speed, using wonderful gestural swishes of paint or urgent daubs of white and black to denote drama and impact. They are both glorious. This is a wonderful show and well worth seeing.

It’s on at Tate Britain until 12 April 2026.

Wright of Derby: From the Shadows. What a terrific show at the National Gallery, London. I’ve long been an admirer of Joseph Wright’s ‘candlelight’ paintings which capture moments of interior drama, both literally and psychologically. Wonderful to see the artist’s work from 1765 – 1773 at the height of his powers.

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.

The Story of South Asian Art at the Royal Academy shines a light on the artist Mrinalini Mucherjee, her family and fellow artists. Their work spans the the second half of the twentieth century and shows how Western art was stylistically absorbed into traditional Indian art.

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.

Cecil Beaton’s Fashionable World – well, there is so much more to this show at the National Portrait Gallery than fashion. Glorious to see so many photographs, drawings, illustrations, sketches and creative ideas which demostrate the breadth of this remarkable man’s abilities.

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

Throught the eyes of Lee Miller – a sensational new retrospective at Tate Britain displays this remarkable woman’s talents as a photographer and chronicler of her time.

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.

Maria Antoinette Style at the Victoria and Albert Museum is a triumph. The curators have assembled many surviving objects which were worn or used by France’s last Queen and sensitively chart the life of the child bride who evolved into a fashion icon but ended her days as a derided aristocrat executed by the guillotine at the height of the French Revolution.

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.

The show is at the V&A until 22 March 2026.

Oh, how I love Edward Burra’s work! And I’m so excited to recommend this wonderful retrospective at Tate Britain. Born in 1905 into an upper middle-class family in Rye, he was drawn to the flappers of the roaring 20’s in London, gay Paris, Harlem in New York, sailors in Toulon and Flamenco dancers in Spain. Depicting bars, gin joints, low life and high fashion. It’s all there, beautifully painted in watercolours with a strong narrative feel.

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.

The fabulous new storage space for V&A East has opened in Stratford and it’s a ‘must see’ for any London visitor. Taking over the building created as a media centre during the 2012 Olympics, this space has been reimagined in the most original way as an exhibition/storage space for the Victoria and Albert Museum’s extensive collection. It’s like a giant cabinet of curiosities with so much to see.

What a thrill to be part of the press preview at the opening of the new V&A East storage space in east London. It’s a most dynamic space – the most extraordinary storage unit ever imagined. There’s easy access to all the objects; they are not only on display, but if there’s something you are keen to see close up, you can make an appointment, come to the space and see it close up in the company of a curator.

The objects are arranged on pallets, carefully lashed to their space and exude a wonderful confidence in their new environment. As well as objects from all eras, countries, cultures and faiths there are entire room sets. It was fascinating to see the complete kitchen from a Frankfurt apartment of the 1920s and the amazing Kaufmann Office designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. There’s a stunning Moorish ceiling and a giant theatre backcloth by Picasso.

In architectural terms this new space is a joy. There is the luxury of a vast atrium in the centre of the storage unit which can be used for events, talks, concerts. The collection is displayed on five floors and seem to disappear down corridors into infinity. And the large space where the Picasso cloth was displayed provides much-needed opportunity for huge carpets and theatrical backcloths to be conserved, examined and displayed. You can also look into the conservation studios and see the work being done to restore all kinds of items, preparing them for display.

The V&A East is a short walk from Hackney Wick station and it’s exciting to see all the new buildings and attractive design which is pouring into this area. The whole Olympic Park repurposing is a shining example of legacy architecture, forward thinking and imaginative usage of the space. I’m impressed.

What a delight to see, close up, a remarkable survivor from the Renaissance – the two Carracci ‘cartoons’ created in the late 1590s in readiness for transfer to the ceiling of the Palazzo Farnese in Rome. You can see the joins, the cuts, the holes for the ‘pouncing’ and simply absorb the atmosphere of artists at work over four centuries ago. Stunning!

It was a thrill to enter the darkened space of Room 1 at the National Gallery and behold two massive, landscape-sized charcoal drawings by the artistic double act of the early 1600s, Annibale and Agostino Carracci. These huge cartoons were the preparatory works for two of the large paintings which adorned the spectacular gallery ceiling of the Palazzo Farnese in Rome. The work was commissioned by Alessandro Farnese who became Pope Paul III. The building is now the French Embassy so it’s not easy to see the amazing works.

The two cartoons on show are the centre top and bottom images in the gilded fame. It’s spectacular to see these works close up. You can see the cuts, tears, reps and pin marks in the fragile paper. These cartoons were working documents, used to lay out the design, develop the artwork and then placed against the damp plaster of the ceiling surface to have the image pricked (pounced) and and traced onto the surface. Then the artists would labour at ceiling height on a scaffold to complete the frescoes.

It’s impressive to see these works close up and follow the lines and scratches made by artists over four centuries ago. It’s rare for these working documents to survive but, apparently, they were carefully pieced together again after the transfer process and kept safely. Maybe the idea was to reuse elements of them on future commissions.

There’s such vitality to the drawing and the clever composition There’s humour too. On the right, you can see a putti blowing a shell in the face of another putti who is covering his ears!

Above is a view of the gallery made by Francesco Panini, who appears in the bottom left of the gallery sketching the view.

Splash! A century of swimming and style. This exhibition at the Design Museum is a celebration of fashion, technology and politics of water, swimming and messing around in ponds, rivers, pools and the sea.

As a keen ‘pond dipper’ I was intrigued by this show and very pleased to see a reference to the Women’s Pond at Kenwood, a place I find very addictive during the summer months, but only once the water has inched its way towards at least 15 degrees and even better when it reaches a balmy 20 degrees. The poster showing Ken Wood suggests the pond nestles beneath high mountains. Hampstead Heath is not that high but I did like romance of the image.

There are a great many swimming costumes on show. I remember my mother describing the indignity of wearing a woollen swimsuit when she was a child in the 1930s. The thing just spread out in the water before slapping back against her body, dragging down to her knees when she emerged from the water covered in embarassment.

But what I’d really hoped to see was the type of swimming costume I wore as a child – blue nylon, ruched by criss-crossed elastic. I have such a strong memory of my swimsuit and the way the little triangles of fabric would fill with water, swell and then gradually empty on emerging from water. Alas, this curious garment was not represented. Instead the star of the show was the red swimsuit worn by Pamela Anderson in Baywatch.

Fun to see the Gold Medal winning diver, Tom Daely’s scanty trunks and also the chunky sweater he knitted to occupy himself waiting for his moment at the Olympics.

Good to see the costume designs for Captain Nemo and the Underwater City. They wouldn’t look out of place in a ballet.

My takeaway from the exhibition was that something had been missed. Because it was so much about the design of objects used in or near water we didn’t get a feel for the spiritual nature of water and the very human, primal desire to be close to the sea, rivers, ponds or expanses of water. We both fear and revere water. There’s a desire to be near it but not for it to come too close, univited and offend us by flooding our homes or disturbing our travel with dangerous high tides or inundated roads. Perhaps that’s something for a different show.

Splash! is on at the Design Museum until 17th August.