Arts Ahead: What's On 10-16 January

Marianela Nunez and Thiago Soaresin in Romeo and Juliet. Photo by Dee Conway

January's cultural opening start properly this week, with ballet, Damien Hirst, Quentin Blake and more. Here are the highlights on londonist. Plus a lot of last-chance-to-see (bye bye, Jerusalem, I'll miss you!) shows, so make sure you don't miss out.

For me, it's yoga; a trip to The Ladykillers; possibly a night at the Southwark Playhouse; and writing, writing, writing; and hopefully some more writing...

See Damien Hirst's Spot Paintings For Free at the Gagosian Galleries

Damien Hirst Controlled Substance Key Painting, 1994 Household gloss on canvas 48 x 48 inches 121.9 x 121.9 cm Photographed by Prudence Cuming Associates © Damien Hirst and Science Ltd. All rights reserved, DACS 2011 Courtesy Gagosian Gallery

From Thursday, you can get a look at Damien Hirst's Spot Paintings for free.

They're going on display at the two Gagosian Galleries in London, as well as at all the other Gagosians (Gagosii?) around the world. (That's New York, Paris, Los Angeles, Rome, Athens, Geneva, and Hong Kong, in case you were wondering.)

Hirst didn't make them himself: these are some of the very works that have caused David Hockney to declare of his own exhibition at the Royal Academy: "all the works were made by the artist himself, personally."

Hirst, on the other hand, used assistants to make his Spot Paintings, saying, "I couldn’t be fucking arsed doing it".

Visit the Gagosian Galleries between now and February to see what the fuss is about, and get in on Hirstmania early: later in the year, Tate Modern is holding a blockbuster Hirst show which'll cost you about £14 to see.

Read my original Damien Hirst post on londonist

Michael Landy's Acts of Kindness

There's new Art on the Underground as of today. But only if you're on the Central line.

Read more...

Arts Ahead 1 - 7 February

Susan Hiller Homage to Marcel Duchamp (detail) 2008. Courtesy Timothy Taylor Gallery, London © Susan Hiller

February's here and it finally feels like London's cultural scene is waking up!

Hence this brilliant picture for Tate Britain's Susan Hiller show, opening today.

There's other brilliant stuff going on in art, theatre, dance and opera, but for me, it's a quiet week while I try to get on top of the running (minus 2 weeks to the first 10k of 2011) and get some sleep ahead of this weekends shenanigans. (Bridesmaids and Houseparties, if you really want to know.)

Read the rest of Arts Ahead on londonist here

Dulwich Picture Gallery's Bicentenary Year: Sir John Soane by Sir Thomas Lawrence

Or, January and the Project Begins

You'll remember I'm planning to see each of the Masterpieces of the Month at the Dulwich Picture Gallery, through this, it's 200th birthday year.

Today, I started. I started by walking to the gallery in the cold January sunshine. (I was quite impressed that it really is just half an hour away, give or take a couple of minutes for photographs.) I started by becoming a member of said gallery for the princely sum of £30. (Reasoning that if I do make all 12, at £5 entrance fee a go, I'll end up spending more than that.) And I started by taking it quite easy, taking in only a few of the treasures on display, and trying not to get overwhelmed.

The fact is, I'd love to know more about art. I can spot a Canaletto and a Constable; I can tell what's Dutch, and what's been influenced by Dali (although he can throw a curveball); and I'm always pleased to recognise a dark Goya after over-indulging in him in the Prado when I lived in Madrid or something skinny by El Greco or something colourful by Gauguin. But I'd love to know more.

Hence this little mission.

So, for this month, The Portrait of John Soane hangs in pride of place at the Dulwich Picture Gallery.

John Soane designed the gallery, and it's rather nice to see him, sitting rather smugly, watching all the activity going on inside today. (It was filled with people headed to the Norman Rockwell exhibition; so much so, there was a queue. Buggies, Barbour jackets, brogues, bifocals; your average Dulwich fayre.)

It seems incredible that he's the guy responsible for thinking out the whole idea of a building specifically designed for the display of paintings. His series of interlinked rooms, with plenty of wall space and skylights to illuminate the stuff on show indirectly means this is "one the great small galleries in which to look at oil paintings," according to wiki. "The influential 20th-century architect Philip Johnson said, "Soane has taught us how to display paintings." There's another nice quote here:

"Nicholas Pevsner, in his An Outline of European Architecture, considered the building to be "a very early example of 'modern' architecture – where the form and appearance of the building is directly related to its function". However we know that the elevations are not as Soane originally intended – he would have preferred more ornate facades – but luckily for us a lack of funds meant that he was forced into a more austere (and better) design."

I've read more thoughts on this month's star painting by Richard Dorment in the Telegraph. And I have to agree with him. You can see this is a flattering portrait of a 70 year old, rouge and wig included. And its interesting to think that this is a portrait painted for a particular place. Above the fireplace in the Library Dining Room of the Soane Museum at 13 Lincoln's Inn Fields, there's no need to have painted him with nods to his collections and what-not. And somehow, here in the Dulwich Picture Gallery, there's something nice about his being painted against such a simple red backdrop. "What's he famous for?" the viewer might ask. Then turn around and look at what he's looking at. "Oh, just *all* this," is the answer

Now comes one of my confusions with portrait painting. Is it about the subject, or the artist? Which is "more" important? Of course, one wouldn't exist without the other, bu.u.u.t... When it's a Portrait of a Man (like the Hogarth one hanging near John Soane), I find it easier to think about the painter, and what he was doing.

But when it's a portrait of a famous person, I sometimes struggle to hold together all the information about both artist and sitter in the same headspace. (I remember getting in a tangle like this when I first started lit crit at school. Was I talking about the character, or the author who made the character... I learnt to separate and unseparate the two for various purposes eventually, and I suppose its the same with paintings...)

So, now, a little bit about this artist courtesy of wiki etc:

Thomas Lawrence (1769-1830) was a child prodigy who quickly became the most accomplished portrait painter of his day and, from 1820, President of the Royal Academy. He never married, and had tortuous relationships with Sally and Maria Siddons. They're actress Sarah Siddon's daughters. The most extensive collections of Lawrence's work can be found in the Royal Collections and the National Portrait Gallery.

Let's see if I can try and hold these two chaps in my head for any length of time.

And after another 11 pictures have also been pushing for space in a year's time. We'll see.

Fourth Plinth Announcement: Boy on Rocking Horse, and A Big Blue Cock

 

This morning, I was lucky enough to attend the unveiling of the next two winning commissions for the Fourth Plinth.

Within a leaking corridor inside City Hall, I jostled with assorted photographers and press, and managed to get a rather wobbly video of the proceedings with my cute little camera. No doubt there'll be far better captures of this on YouTube in the coming days, but for now, I'm quite pleased with mine, even if it is a bit shaky and blurred. (Dean Londonist used it too, which was pleasing.)



As for the winners, I'm pleased these two won.

I really like the boy on the rocking horse, and the two artists behind it sound pretty cool. I'm less convinced by the blue cockerel (insert your own jokes here); but I prefer both these to the Battenburg (Boris' favourite), because I think they're more dynamic, prettier, and, with their height and dimensions, more visible. Somehow there's "movement" in them, particularly the boy.

Looking forward to seeing them up there in 2012 and 2013, anyhow.

Arts Ahead 11 - 17 January

It's the usual story for culture in January. A few new things opening, and an OVERWHELMING slew of things closing. Things that you've said for the last three months, "Oooh, I'd quite like to see that," and not done anything about it.

Well now, you're doomed to never see them. Doomed, I say. January weekends are full of people's birthdays (I have an almost comically long list of friends with birthdays in January) and work requests are flowing with the speed of an entire company with New Year's Resolutions to keep.

So, so long Gauguin, Canaletto, the vowel-happy Eadweard Muybridge, Rachel Whiteread, and Damian Ortega. I'm sorry I missed you, but alas, the chance is now gone.

On a more positive note, I'll start the year with some Shakespeare: the RSC's As You Like It at the Roundhouse on Monday. Looking forward to it.

Check out the rest of this week's Arts Ahead on londonist

Photo by Johan Persson shows Marianela Nunez and Carlos Acosta in Giselle

Arts Ahead 14- 20 December

Look-y! It's a dancing squirrel!

Yes, silly season is definitely here. "It's Christmas!" as someone once shouted, and everything's gone a bit fast and loose.

And in case a dancing squirrel isn't enough to convince you everything's gone a little bit screwy on London's cultural caledar, here's some more evidence:

• David Hasselhoff's in panto in Wimbledon
• CBBC stars are doing something called Potted Panto at the Vaudeville
• the Old Vic isn't doing a panto at all, but some farce called A Flea in Her Ear

In fact, it's the latter that I'm looking forward to seeing this week. I'm taking JC and hoping that Tom Hollander lives up to the excited look on LK's face every time we talk about this show at work...

Read the rest of this week's Arts Ahead on londonist

Image shows Royal Ballet: Tales of Beatrix Potter. Photo by Johan Persson

Notes from the Rob Ryan Private View

Rob Ryan is one of my most recent "art crushes". As noted in my write-up of the private view I attended this week, my interest / investment covers a few months and various media:

I've loved Rob Ryan's intricate papercuts for a while now. Since being introduced to his work by the fantastic Domestic Sluts last year, I've made the pilgrimage to his Columbia Road shop, Ryantown, bought this skirt from clothkits, and been given a beautiful framed print for my birthday. Yes, I'm something of a fan.

It was really fun to go to the private view with JC. Sadly, the room was too full and too hot for me to say I had a great time, but I'm still really glad I went. JC says he can't decide if Mr Ryan's a zeitgeisty genius, a timeless talent or just a strange obsessive that puts skill before art. I just like the out-and-out romance of his work. And I guess I've always liked text in art.

One thing that was really interesting about the show was the chance to see Rob himself. (Sadly, your writer wasn't feeling on go-getting journo form, so didn't push through to prod him for a Londony quote as she has been know to in the past.)

From the evocative, romantic male figues in his art, I'd been expecting a pre-Sherlock Benedict Cumberbatch playing-Bernard-Bligh kind of figure. Skinny in a 1930s depression-era way. Or at least like slight, and tall, and straight, like Anton du Beke preparing for a particularly traditional waltz.

But no. It turns out, Rob Ryan actually looks like a less cuddly, much hairier version of Chris' dad. Crossed with Danny Baker (GWS). With a bit of Lord of the Rings director Peter Jackson thrown in. Not quite what I'd anticipated!

Read more about the Rob Ryan Private View on the Visit London Blog

Pictures show Starry Night by Rob Ryan; and Rob Ryan by Jenny Dale

Arts Ahead 28 September to 4 October

October's here! The month of birthdays, Halloween, Harvest and the rest of it.

For London, October is a continuation of September's festival frenzy. Film festivals, Black History Month, Story of London, the Restaurant Festival, a Gaming Festival, and Big Draw for starters...

But I'm getting ahead of myself. There's still a couple of days left in September, and they're all about big blockbuster art exhibitions from Gauguin and Anish Kapoor. Two I quite fancy seeing, in fact.

Read the rest of this week's Arts Ahead suggestions here on londonist

Exhibition Excitement: Victoria & Albert: Art & Love @ The Queen's Gallery

It's not often I get really excited about exhibitions in the same way I get really really, excited about musicals.

But from time to time something catches my eye, and heads into the "time to get obsessive about" pile.

And here's one example.

I can remember precisely when I became more interested in Queen Victoria. It was 2001, with the BBC drama: Victoria & Albert.

The comments on amazon laughably describe it thus: 

Recasting history as a particularly lavish soap opera, Victoria and Albert sets the story of the relationship between the queen and her consort against a background of family strife and political wrangling. Sticklers for accuracy might be disappointed, but the strong cast and lavish production values make for an entertaining film.

But I thought it had a great cast (Victoria Hamilton, Colin's bro Jonathan, Diana Rigg, Penelope Wilton, Nigel Hawthorne, David Suchet, Jonathan Pryce, Richard Briers) and really enjoyed it aged 20ish. I loved it.

Up until then, Victoria had been the fat old girl in statues, part of the Victorian fear of piano legs, and mum to 100s of kids, determined to wear black All. The. Time. And a blurred, inconsequential backdrop to the frankly scary politics of A Level history: the Corn Laws, Disraeli, Peel, Ireland, and something about too many of her chambermaids having liberal husbands...

I haven't seen the latest film, and really want to. But ahead of me finding a suitable JC-occupied space to watch the film in, there's this exciting-sounding exhibition coming to London. And I'd really like to see it.

Victoria & Albert: Art & Love focuses on Queen Victoria and Prince Albert's shared love of art, and it's at the Queen's Gallery in Buckingham Palace from March.

It's going to show more than 400 items from the Royal Collection, many of them gifts between the Queen and her husband. How lovely?

Now, I've never (knowingly) been to Buck Palace. But this might just be a must-see for me. I wonder if I can get my twitchy fingers on a preview viewing...

Reflections on Anish Kapoor @ the Royal Academy

OK, so that's just kind of a fnarr header to go with JC's clever image, but hey...

The fact is, we didn't get into Anish Kapoor at the Royal Academy on Saturday. We tried buying tickets in advance online, but for some reason, the booking website was down. We headed to town anyway, with other plans if we weren't able to see the show.

The queue for buying tickets spiralled past the funky silver bubble sculpture (an image of which now adorns the walls of JC's office, I'm told. "It's a metaphor," his super-brainy boss pointed out), and nearly out of that famous courtyard altogether.

We had some fun taking photos of the cool, funky, multiple mirrored surfaces, trying to get them reflected in windows (me: little success), and trying to get us reflected *in* them (JC: better). I'm sure if we had been queuing next to the thing for as long as some of the tourists there, we'd probably have enjoyed it a lot less...

So, note to the wise: probably best to wait for a mid-week opening to see this show, rather than attempting to enjoy what is surely (from the photos I've seen and what I've read) the kind of art that needs space and NOT crowds at the weekend.

It's great that it's a popular show; it's a shame if people pay the (quite high) admission fee and enjoy it less because it's too crowded.

Home is Where the Art Is...

Turns out JC and I have actually moved to a thriving arts hub.

If you want art in London, it appears Peckham is where its at.

We might as well have picked Hoxton for our new abode, according to this article from the Evening Standard. And we know, the ES is never wrong.

It's a shame that these new and groovy and upcoming and alarmingly young artits are choosing to showcase the area from Brick Lane, then... (Next week's South East in East Festival is at the Vibe Bar in the Old Truman Brewery.)

Still, nice to know there's good news coming out of SE15 too.

And I do like Tim Burrows' sign off:

Taking in most of the London skyline from the vantage point of the car park roof, punctuated by the Gherkin, Peckham feels a million miles away from all that [meaning the City, Old Street, Curtain Road, Brick Lane et al] – and yet, right at the heart of things.

Londonist's Slow Exposure at Ray's Jazz Cafe in Foyles

What a fab evening. Londonist's Slow Exposure event turned out to be a fantastic success.

I went with HC, who was juggling plans and man-texts like a trooper; but really, we could have both gone alone and still talked to lots and lots of people. Everyone was so friendly, it was easy to move around the room from conversation to conversation without any of the naff social awkwardness you can get at events like this.

And I finally met a bunch of people I've only previously known online. Brilliantly, they all turned out to be as lovely as the rest of the londonistas I've met to date; and those londonistas I'd already met on the pub crawl a month back are still as charming as the first time round.

Some amazing pictures, a heap of lovely people, a couple of glasses of wine, a great venue, a few "yeah, I know exactly what you mean" chats interspersed with some "I've never thought of it like that" conversations makes a good evening for me.

Sadly, time ran away from me, and I didn't get to talk to everyone I would've liked to... I guess I'll have to wait for next time.

But I consider myself a lucky girl to have the seedlings of these new friendships showing such healthy green shoots already.

Edit: Here's a nice photo gallery of pics from the evening.

Cultural Magpie: Jonathan Jones on the Whitechapel

Here's a great feature in the Guardian on the eagerly anticipated new Whitechapel Gallery.

I'm not always sure about Jonathan Jones. I know he's a genius, and an amazing writer. But I don't always understand what he's writing about, the references he makes. Art isn't my strong point, although I'm learning things all the time.

This piece, however, makes great reading.

I haven't been to the Whitechapel, but I've written about it. And this article, filled with references to people I've been learning more about in the last two years (Mark Wallinger, Cornelia Parker, Nicholas Serota, Cy Twombly, Rachel Whiteread) really gives you a taste of the gallery, the artists involved, as well as the wider city, and the art world as a whole too.

Here's a choice snippet from the end, although I could have picked several from the article:

In this new age, good public art galleries have a renewed vocation. Artists will need supportive environments more than ever, and modern art itself will need powerful champions in a Britain likely to revert to conservatism with both a small and a large C.

Anyway, art isn't everything. The Whitechapel is still surrounded by poverty, and its original, philanthropic purpose remains as urgent as ever. I've left the Whitechapel's most beautiful new space until last. Right at the top of the building, a glass-walled studio enjoys an astonishing view over the neighbourhood, including Hawksmoor's Christ Church and Toynbee Hall. I walked in expecting this to be the swanky new restaurant, but it turns out to be the education room, dedicated to teaching school children about contemporary art. The best view has been kept for them.

HappyCloud @ Tate Modern

An irresistible invite arrived on Tuesday:

Get set to see 2057 pink smiley faced clouds float over London's Southbank... Artist Stuart Semple is preparing to release 2057 smiling clouds in the sky of London.

The Happy Cloud installation aims to be a message of hope and positivism in reaction to the doom and gloom of current events, and is also a reminder of the importance of Art and of the cultural industries in our everyday life.

The 28-year-old says: "I just wanted to make a piece of work that could cheer people up a bit. I've had enough of the doom and gloom in the air and I wanted to show something completely positive floating up in the sky. I am hoping it might put a smile on a few people's faces as they go through their day. I know at times like this it's easy to make creativity a low priority but I want to show on a very human level that an artistic idea might be able to do something important, even for a fleeting moment."

It's not often I'm enticed to get up early, but for this? Absolutely.

I took the RV1 over to Tate Modern from Waterloo, glancing at the sky every so often, eager to spot my first HappyCloud. What would they be like? How big? How visible? How fast moving? How obvious?

But you couldn't see anything out of the ordinary from the bus.

Walking from the road through the gardens behind the Tate, I spotted something. A little like a frisbee, but weirder; lighter, thicker, somehow less aerodynamic than a disc, floating through the sky. There it was: my first HappyCloud.

Once I'd seen one, I realised there were a few of them, three or four, floating, twisting, turning, flopping around in the air above the Thames. I walked up onto the Millenium Bridge to get a better view. It was ace! Each time the team below "released" a cloud, it flew on the (quite strong) wind from the space to the right of the Tate, over the dome of St Paul's and the bridge, floating downstream like a HappyCloud tourist, desperate to survive for long enough to see the whole of that great London panorama it was involved in, to live long enough to travel down past the Gherkin, over Tower Bridge and on to the towers of Canary Wharf.

They floated and twisted around, occasionally revealing their smiley faces, at other times floating tantalisingly flat, like a slow-moving frisbee. But they didn't last long.

Sometimes they passed overhead unformed, missing features, lopsided, solid circles of foam. But a surprising amount were pretty much perfect smiles; when they turned to look at you, they got a few perfect smiles back in return.

What a great, mad, fun, silly thing to organise. Well done, Mr Semple.

I'm currently not able to get the pics and video I took of the HappyClouds off my mobile and onto a computer, but you can check out some great pictures here.

Edit: Londonist has some lovely HappyCloud pictures too.