After a week mixing with (and grilling) visual artists, curators and public relations advisers to galleries etc in London, happy to recommend my pick of a large bunch, should you be passing through anytime soon. With the exception of Klimt at the RA, the exhibitions are in private galleries, and scattered throughout London. If you like what you see, and want some more info, please get in touch. Enjoy.
This week marks the centenary of the death of Wilfred Owen, and he – among many, many more – will be remembered at this exhibition in Bray until Sunday.
(from Dulce et Decorum Est)
If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.