An exhibition of an exhibition: 1948 La Biennale di Peggy Guggenheim

In 1948 Peggy Guggenheim’s collection was exhibited at the 24th Venice Biennale in the Pavilion of Greece. To mark the 70th anniversary of the exhibition, 1948 La Biennale di Peggy Guggenheim in the Project Rooms at the Guggenheim, Venice, revisits the career-defining Pavilion display; its origins, construction and curation. Billed as “an homage”, the exhibition does not attempt to further examine the artworks that featured in the original, but rather gives an inside look into the behind the scenes work that led to the first postwar display of a modern art collection in Italy following 20 years of dictatorial regime.The Peggy Guggenheim Collection is a modern art museum located on the Grand Canal in the Dorsoduro district of Venice. The 18th century former palace was Peggy Guggenheim’s home for thirty years, and now holds a rich collection of works by Italian Futurists and American Modernists, and is one of the most visited sites in Venice.

Marguerite “Peggy” Guggenheim, born in 1898 to the wealthy Guggenheim family and daughter of Benjamin Guggenheim who died aboard the Titanic, was a socialite and art collector with as rich an appetite for men and dogs as for building a world class collection of modern art. Her desire for collecting was not quelled during World War II, during which she aspired to collect a painting a day. Her 1948 exhibition, at the first Venice Biennale for six years, was notable both for being the first since the interruption caused by the war, and for its bold display of groundbreaking modern art. 1948 La Biennale di Peggy Guggenheim aims to cast an eye at this remarkable moment in time and to make sense of the eccentric Peggy Guggenheim’s singular vision.

Above the door entering the exhibition hangs a recreation of the triangular sign that originally hung above the porticoes of the Greek Pavilion in 1948. It reads ‘Collezione Peggy Guggenheim’ and the nostalgic echoes continue in the first of two modestly sized rooms, with a full wall covered with a blown up black and white photograph of one of the exhibition walls. In the centre of the room is a three dimensional model of the pavilion installation created by Ivan Simonato based on designs by Venetian architect Carlo Scarpa, who collaborated with the Biennale from 1948 to 1972.

The model provides instant orientation for the visitor, by making the exhibition tangible through its incredible detail, including the intricately recreated herringbone floor and inclusion of miniature sculptures, one of which (Alexander Calder’s Arc of Petals, 1941) visitors to the permanent collection will have already seen in person, and another of which hangs in the place it would have been positioned on the giant wall photograph.

In the second and final room of the exhibition, curator Grazina Subelyte makes use of archival material to give context to the 1948 display, using images from the exhibition and its installation, correspondence and newspaper cuttings. While the first room is an installation in itself, the second room visually outlines the exhibition’s creation.

An exhibition about an exhibition has potential to be indulgent, produced only with an audience of curators in mind. 1948 La Biennale di Peggy Guggenheim avoids this by the playful curation of the first room, which neatly sets the scene for an audience who is not expected to arrive with any foreknowledge. The miniature exhibition recreation serves as an anchor for the narrative flow, as all of the works in the first room are mirroring it in some way, while photographs in the second room reference it, and show the room in various states of construction, which the audience can locate on the model as they leave.

While visually the audience is taken back to 1948, the exhibition perhaps lacks in giving sufficient wider context of the world that the Greek Pavilion exhibition took place in. Greece was in the midst of a bloody civil war, and fascist dictator and former Italian Prime Minister Mussolini had been dead for just three short years. The impact of Peggy Guggenheim’s diverse and forward-looking collection being a centrepiece of the Biennale that year is lessened when removed from its context. Further exploration of world events beyond the exhibition and its pavilion could have strengthened the narrative and provided further insight into Peggy’s character.

While this meta-exhibition sets out to pay tribute to a game-changing exhibition of modern art, like the rest of the museum 1948 La Biennale di Peggy Guggenheim feels more like an homage to Peggy Guggenheim herself.

The exhibition runs until November 25, 2018.

May Morris: Art & Life (& Lesbian Erasure…. again)

I seem to start every blog post with an apology for how long it’s been since I last blogged, so I won’t with this one. But I will try to blog more regularly now that my thesis is out of the way. I want to post about some of the work I’ve been doing at Sutton House recently, a recent visit to Gunnersbury Park and some amazing interpretation at Nunnington Hall. But in the mean time, I want to address a glaring problem with the May Morris: Art and Life exhibition (on until Jan 28th 2018) at the William Morris Gallery in Walthamstow.

It is, of course, really lovely. Morris’ talents have long been in the shadow of her father, so it’s no wonder that such a comprehensive overview of her design and craftswomanship is so beautiful to behold. The problem I have with it is, perhaps predictably, the lack of mention of Mary Lobb.

To get up to speed with this particular bugbear of mine, check out my earlier posts about similar problems I had with Kelmscott Manor, former home of May Morris and Mary Lobb, and the artworks I made in response to it here, here, here and here. (I should note that an exhibition about Mary Lobb has just finished at Kelmscott, I didn’t get the chance to see it, as it’s difficult to get to Kelmscott if you don’t drive, so I can’t comment on how it covered their relationship, but it’s great to see a spotlight on her).

First, I’ll highlight all of the mentions of Mary Lobb in the exhibition, then I will address some of the objections I often encounter when highlighting the absence of a queer narratives in such exhibitions, with this one in mind.

Mentions of Mary Lobb in the exhibition:

  • A text panel about Kelmscott Manor begins: ‘In her later years, the majority of May’s time was spent at Kelmscott Manor, Oxfordshire, which she shared with her ‘housekeeper, cook and companion’ Mary Lobb’
  • A photograph of the pair on holiday in Wales in 1926
  • Two further small photographs of the two in Iceland in 1931
  • A caption for a photograph of May on a pony in Iceland from the same trip, which reads: ‘William Morris first visited Iceland in 1871 and was captivated by the dramatic landscape. In 1926, May and Mary Lobb followed in his footsteps. They returned to Iceland twice more. One their last trip in 1931, they were accompanied by Mary and Margaret Pierce, whom May had befriended during her lecture tour of North America’
  • In a display case of jewellery, all of the items were given to the V&A by Mary Lobb. It fails to mention that this is because May bequeathed the majority of her money and belongings to Lobb when she died.

Nowhere in any of this do we get a sense of the closeness between the two that would be evident with better interpretation. They lived together for the best part of 20 years, and hearsay has it that they shared the same bed, this seems to me that once again Mary Lobb’s significance in May’s life is being overlooked or swept under the carpet, whether platonic or otherwise.

The following are things I often hear in response to historic figures being read as LGBTQ, so I thought I would respond to them here. I also expect these would be the kind of defences people would make about Lobb’s exclusion from the exhibition:

The exhibition was a showcase of Morris’ work, not a biographical exhibition

That’s not strictly true. The exhibition of work is shaped around a timeline of May’s life, which includes biographical information throughout. Curator Michael Petry once said (I’m paraphrasing) ‘if you mention the wife, you have to mention the relationships he had with men’ (about a male artist), and since there is mention of the May’s relationships with George Bernard Shaw, and Henry Sparling, so too should there be information about her relationship with Lobb.

There is no proof that their relationship was anything but platonic

There is also no proof that she was sexually attracted to George Bernard Shaw or Henry Sparling. There is proof that Lobb and Morris lived together. A few years ago I spent a day at the archive at the William Morris Gallery and asked to see all of the material relating to Lobb, so I know that there is plenty of material that shows that other people around them thought that there was an atypical closeness between them, or more to their relationship than merely companionship (in fact, I made a sound piece called The village folk had a lot to say about it using the words of their contemporaries verbatim).

Lobb was not a designer/ well known figure/ pre-Rephaelite beauty/ important enough to feature

All the more reason to include her. She was a working woman, and an important part of May’s life. Figures like her are all the more relatable to visitors today than anyone else in the exhibition. I was first drawn to Mary Lobb because she is an androgynous figure, she instantly spoke to me in a way that many historic figures do not.

Lobb, and more specifically, the relationship she had with May Morris is not well documented enough

Indeed not, but curators and interpretation staff in museums draw conclusions every day. I’m not asking that they ‘out’ May Morris, but that they aren’t dismissive of such an important relationship, or that perhaps they acknowledge that many, even in their lifetime, assumed the two were a couple.

The curators did not want to make any assumptions/ jump to conclusions

To say this, assumes heterosexuality as the default, or that May Morris being a lesbian, or bisexual is somehow shameful. How often do we assume that someone was straight with no proof? There’s plenty of proof that Morris’ relationship with Mary Lobb was a more enduring and important one than any she had with a man. I think it’s not too far of a reach to jump to this conclusion.

Those are just some very quick thoughts about it. I’d be really keen to hear from anyone who visited, or was involved in the Mary Lobb exhibition at Kelmscott Manor, to see how they approached the relationship, and to hear if any more archival material was dug up in the process. That all said, if you want to have a look at a load of very beautiful embroideries, for free, then I recommend the exhibition. If you’re looking for any mentions of the queerness of the relationship between May Morris and my favourite historic butch, Mary Lobb- then you’ll probably be disappointed.

 

Museum of Transology

The Museum of Transology, curated by my dear friend and all round genius E-J Scott, is currently on at the Fashion Space Gallery until 22nd April, and is one of the best exhibitions I’ve ever clapped eyes on.


I’m so over Trans narratives being sensationalised, othered and shown purely as before/after stories, MoT is a refreshing move away from that, where trans people tell their own stories through the labels they attach to the objects they have donated.

The objects range from the sublime to the ridiculous; the obvious, the powerful, the bodily and the heartbreaking, to the banal and downright boring- and herein lies the genius of the exhibition; trans lives can be just as bureaucratic, just as tedious, just as everyday as cis lives- and presented here in such a beautifully designed and curated space, with stories told by and with the fair hands of the people whose stories they are, comes a lesson to all curators.

Nothing about us without us is a bit of a tired saying now, but it holds true, regardless the content of the exhibition, it will always be engaging, warm, funny and moving, if its subjects are involved from the very beginning, and given complete agency in choosing how their stories are included, shared and interpreted.

The beauty of MoT is in its simplicity, in its heart, and in its boldness of telling a cacophonous series of narratives from a community that is wildly varied and anything but homogenous. At no point does MoT attempt to tell a singular trans narrative, and this is largely because who better to tell us that no such thing exists, but the trans community themselves.

I’m very proud of E-J and everyone involved, and think that this exhibition should, and must, mark a cultural shift for those of us in the museum sector who want our practice to be more thoughtful, more socially just and accessible, and to genuinely move conversations forward.

Here’s a sample of some of the coverage MoT has had:

BroadlyDesign History SocietyIt’s Nice ThatLe CoolI-DElleIndependentDisegnoTime OutCBCWonderlandNot Just a Label

I’m also really delighted to say I’ll be speaking on a panel about identifying, collecting and preserving trans and queer histories as part of the series of events supporting the exhibition.

It’s called Trancestory: Now you see it, now you don’t, and it takes place on 9th March at 7pm. For more info and to book, visit this page.

“It had to be both” Twilight People at Islington Museum

Twilight People: stories of gender and faith beyond the binary is now up and running at Islington Museum.

Curating narratives of people with marginalised identities presents a series of challenges, especially when those people have intersecting marginalised identities. Alongside those challenges come great opportunities for transformative and radical curating; for subliminal activism that can educate, enlighten and wave the flag for pride, and for social justice. In Twilight People two worlds meet in a peaceful and powerful crescendo, that challenges and undoes the notion that trans and gender nonconforming identities are inherently at odds with faith, and that indeed gender identities can be affirmed, discovered and renewed through religion, and that religious identities too can be reinvented, strengthened and celebrated through gender diversity. Twilight seemingly represents an in-between place, but this exhibition aims to show that a trans journey is not necessarily about a start point and a finish point, a before and after, but rather that the transformative moment of Twilight can indeed be the destination itself.

Curators have a great responsibility. In highlighting the fluid and non-binary natures of faith and gender identities, it is essential to allow the subjects of the exhibition to have their voices at the forefront of the exhibition. Oral history allows this, and museums and archives are increasingly realising that aside from being interesting and engaging sources of his-and-herstory, that oral histories serve a political purpose in filling in the gaps in historical records that so often exclude diverse voices. The theme of Twilight People is Body and Ritual. My own expectations of the stories we collected, and the beautiful portraits, were that they would highlight the trans body, and the ritual of faith, but they also uncover bodies of faith and rituals of gender. The subjects of the exhibition are not merely subjects, through their generous participation and sharing, they are stakeholders of an important landmark in queer exhibitions, co-curators, activists and educators.

Here are some photographs from the exhibition:

And here are some from the installation:

Marie and James from Roundhouse Radio worked in collaboration with young volunteers and SOAS radio to create a beautiful sound piece from the oral histories which will hopefully be available online soon. Here is James modelling the headgear from the public launch:

A huge thanks to everyone who worked on the project, but especially to the pioneering Surat-Shaan Knan, who is breaking ground with every project he embarks upon (also, highly recommend Through a Queer Lens at the Jewish Museum which he and Ajamu collaborated on). I had the pleasure of listening to Surat-Shaan’s oral history in full and feel privileged to have heard it, one of my favourite moments is when he is discussing the intersection between his Jewishness and his gender identity, and he says “it couldn’t be one or the other, it had to be both”, which I thought beautifully captured the exhibition for me (and inspired the title to this blog post!). Massive thanks also to Charlotte Kingston, the lead curator, from whom I’ve learnt so much, both about curating, and about how to be an amazing ally. Huge love to both!

The exhibition runs until the 5th of March, I hope you are as moved, enlightened and excited by these stories and images as I have been.

‘Curating LGBTQ Histories’ and exciting V&A news

Just a quick post to say I have written a piece about the 126 exhibition at Sutton House on the  Notches blog, you can read that here.

And also some very exciting news about this Friday’s V&A Late Queer and Now. The film from the ‘126’ exhibition will be playing throughout the night at the bottom of the staircase beneath the National Art Library (where I will be speaking at 19.30). The stairway is one of the main access routes through the museum, which means plenty of people will get to see all of the hard work by the 126 volunteers!

Hope to see many of you there!

I’ve been at Sutton House the last few days filming the exhibition, might seem a bit weird filming a film, but I really like how it looks projected against the white brick wall, so hopefully it will come out well on the film.

The feedback continues to be great, some of my favourite comments are as follows:

This is the second year I’ve come to a National Trust event. It’s become a yearly pilgrimage, there’s no place for ‘us’ to come for ‘our’ history. LGBT history month at Sutton House/ the National Trust should continue. Next year, who knows. 

and this one:

As a member of the LGBTQ community and a National Trust member I am delighted that this artwork is here at Sutton House. It feels like we are entering into a space where presence is welcomed and voices heard. I think the potential around this art installation is huge. I can see lots of possibilities for schools and young people to connect with Shakespeare, creative media and LGBTQ lives. Thank you. This is exciting, beautiful and welcome.

‘The village folk had a lot to say about it’ – from one heritage site to another? Guest post by Emily F. Henderson

To accompany the ‘Making Things‘ exhibition at the Institute of Education, we held a seminar to discuss the relationship between practice and the doctoral form. I invited Emily F. Henderson to respond to my work:

How to offer a response to a protest-research installation without reducing the impact of the installation to protest or research? This was the challenge that I faced when Sean invited me to respond to their contribution to the group show put together by doctoral students in the Art, Design and Museology department at the UCL Institute of Education (see blog post 26 January 2015). To try to take Sean’s installation in the spirit in which it was created, I offered three types of response, one for each of the objects that made up the installation: the zine, the sound piece, the tea-towel. Each of these objects offered a different possibility for thinking about how protest and research can be intertwined in different forms.

In Sean’s blog post about the installation, they situated the work in two different spaces. The first space was Red House at Bexleyheath. Sean had offered to make a sound piece representing the voices of villagers discussing the nature of the relationship between May Morris and Mary Lobb – the sound piece was to be made without expectation of payment, and it was to be based on archive sources that Sean had put together. This intervention in the way in which ‘non-normative’ relationships are erased and/or caricatured in heritage sites was rejected and not included in the heritage site. This ultimately resulted in there being a floating sound piece, which existed in the world as a protest object with no site for protest. The sound piece found a site in the group show at the Institute of Education, flanked by a zine illustrating the story of Mary Lobb’s erasure – and Sean’s own erasure – from the heritage sites that present William Morris’ life and work. Accompanying the zine was a William Morris design tea-towel – the traditional heritage site gift-shop purchase – upon which Sean had written in large letters ‘JUSTICE FOR MARY LOBB’, as a twist on the protest banner form.

Sean had said that they were interested in how the installation would work in an ‘exhibition environment’, a ‘gallery space’. In the photo that Sean has taken of the installation, it looks very much as if the work is displayed in a gallery – and it was a gallery, but it was a gallery within an academic department within a university. My response to the installation was very situated in the space of the university – what was the effect on Sean’s work of it being displayed in a university, and what was the effect on the university?

My first response took inspiration from the zine that Sean had created – how could the form of the zine provoke an interpretation of the installation? The zine genre is defined by a deliberate DIY format, in which pictures and text – handwritten and typed – are combined in a collage and photocopied in black and white. Looking at Sean’s zine, I found myself wondering how Sean had decided which elements to ‘mess with’, and which images or text they would preserve, framed intact within the zine. The question of obedience came into my mind – obedience to research convention versus disobedience (which could be taken as obedience to protest convention). Sean’s installation was obediently situated in its designated corner within the temporary gallery space of the department – did situating it in this way contribute to the ‘fetishising’ of protest objects that Sean was concerned about?

Thinking about the sound piece helped me to respond to this question. The coming to rest of the sound piece in this institutional gallery space transported the installation out of its context. Listening to the gossiping voices took me out of the space and into an imagined heritage site, a heritage site which could only exist in the imagination. The misplaced, displaced sound piece points to the intangible site of Sean’s protest-research: the ‘site’ of the lives that have been invisibilised and caricatured in heritage properties. The sound piece represents the way in which heritage houses produce and normalise an image of heterosexual, cis-gendered existence as the norm of history – an image which leaves any other account dismissed as gossip. Not fetishised then – rather all-too-aware of its uprootedness, its enforced rootlessness.

And this brings me to the tea-towel: the layering of a twee gift tea-towel with a painted protest slogan. This is perhaps one way of seeing the layering of Sean’s installation, and the exhibition as a whole, onto the institutional context that held it. I noticed in entering the exhibition space that I was entering a different part of the university to the classrooms and social spaces I normally inhabit. This space did not have a single institutional logo or branding item visible. There were floor-to-ceiling prints of vintage-looking artists overlooking us, flicking projected images on a punky orange screen, a quilt of photographs draped over the centre of the room, a detailed journey in pictures taking us along one of the walls, and Sean’s hyper-visible tea-towel and protruding ledge bearing the zine and headphones. It was difficult to know where to stand or sit – each of the exhibits had us turning and moving, leaning on them and knocking into them. The room exposed us and our bodies, brought us into the room. It struck me that this was a room that could shift thinking, could disrupt obedient research practice: the exhibition fleetingly layered the tea-towel of the institution with a protest for the value of the Arts and Humanities in higher education.

Sean’s protest work uses research to bring to light the erasure of lives from heritage sites. It is also important to recognise that their research work also makes a protest, in challenging what should be researched and how this research can take shape. Thanks go to Sean and the other exhibitors and respondents for a genuinely thought-provoking evening.

Emily F. Henderson 
UCL Institute of Education
Ehenderson01@ioe.ac.uk 
ioe-ac.academia.edu/EmilyHenderson
Author, Gender pedagogy: Teaching, learning and tracing gender in higher education (Palgrave Macmillan, 2015)

‘The village folk had a lot to say about it’ – a sound piece for Mary Lobb

Back in July I contacted the staff at Kelmscott Manor about the neglectful way they had dealt with Mary Lobb in their interpretation. I subsequently offered to put together a sound piece for visitors to listen to, to the staff at Red House in Bexleyheath, that was made from verbatim snippets from sources I had found during a visit to the William Morris Gallery archives in Walthamstow.

The aim was to show that even when they were both alive, contemporaries of Mary Lobb and May Morris considered their relationship to be more than just ‘companions’ and the hope was that this sound piece, presented as gossip, would serve as a small way of remembering the close relationship between the two women, that has for so long been overlooked.

Unfortunately, the staff at Red House refused this interpretation, saying first that the exhibition programming for 2015 was to be all about architect Philip Webb, as 2015 is the centenary of his death. When staff from the London Project asked about it again, they were told it was due to staffing and budget issues, which seems odd, as I was offering to make the sound piece for free.

Fast forward to the end of 2014, and the opportunity arose to be part of a group show at the Institute of Education to showcase the work of five PhD students in the Art, Design and Museology department whose research includes elements of practice. Rather than just showing some of the work I’ve been doing with Sutton House, I instead decided to use this as an opportunity to revisit the idea for addressing Mary Lobb, and alongside the sound piece, I created a protest banner out of a William Morris tea towel, and a fan zine for Mary Lobb, explaining who she is, and how she has been overlooked at various heritage sites.

While the sound piece (recorded thanks to Joe Lewis-Nunes and Ellie Lewis-Nunes) obeys the convention of heritage interpretation, it is offset by the objects more closely aligned with activism: a banner, zines.

It’s important for me to consider how my work changes in an exhibition environment, to consider what it becomes. I want to avoid fetishising paraphernalia (such as banners, zines) used to enact change. The inclusion of such objects here raises questions about what is allowed and expected in a gallery space, but refused (as it was) as legitimate interpretation in a heritage site. Interestingly, and perhaps proving that the inclusion of these objects was not successful in fetishising them, at the private view, the plinth upon which a stack of zines (masquerading as museum objects) rested, was treated by visitors as a table, rather than a plinth, people leaned against it and rested drinks on it, rather than revering the plinth as is often the case. Observing people interacting with the plinth in this way was a nice piece of accidental data.

On Thursday 29th 4.00- 7.30, there will be a seminar in which we will discuss the nature of practice-based research.

In the mean time, here is the sound piece.

I will make the zine available online at some point, when I work out the best way to do it.

‘126’ exhibition poster!

I’m delighted to unveil the official poster for the ‘126‘ exhibition at Sutton House.

The poster was made by the super talented Alex Creep.

 

 

The event on Facebook is active, please click ‘attending’ and invite everyone you think might be interested!

The event is also on the LGBT History Month calendar. Which is a great source for keeping an eye out on the various events taking place in February and beyond.

Hope to see you all there!

‘Making things’ exhibition

Just a quickie, to share the poster (click on it for a larger version) for an upcoming exhibition that I am part of, based at the Institute of Education, showcasing work-in-progress from doctoral students in the Art, Design and Museology department whose research includes an element of practice. My work is a piece called ‘The village folk had a lot to say about it’, and it is in response to the neglectful interpretation of Mary Lobb at Kelmscott Manor.

There will also be a seminar, as you can see from the poster, in which there will be a respondent to each of the student’s work and a discussion about how research and practice intersect. I’m delighted to say that Emily F. Henderson, a PhD candidate at the IOE researching feminism, gender and queer theory in connection with international Higher Education, has kindly agreed to respond to my work. You can check out her new book here.

The exhibition opens the week before 126 does- eeeshk, it will be an exciting few weeks!

‘126’ and ‘Queer Season’ at Sutton House

We’re less than a month away from the exhibition that I (and 125 volunteers) have been working on. I’m delighted to unveil the trailer here:


‘126’ LGBTQ exhibition trailer from Sean Curran on Vimeo.

I’m also delighted to announce that owing to the success of last February’s exhibition Master Mistress, the staff at Sutton House have decided to eschew the confines of LGBT History Month by hosting a two month long Queer Season throughout February and March. Below is the exhibition blurb and more information about the other events taking place throughout Queer Season:

Queer Season at Sutton House

Starting in LGBT History Month, Sutton House is hosting its first Queer Season, a series of exhibitions and events celebrating the lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans and queer communities.

National Trust’s Sutton House presents:

126 
5th February to 29th March,
Weds to Sun 12pm to 5pm

Building on February 2014’s exhibition ‘Master-Mistress’, the first LGBT History Month event to be held in a National Trust property we think, ‘126’ is a crowd-sourced audiovisual experience featuring all 126 of Shakespeare’s Fair Youth sonnets as read by members of the LGBTQ community. Each sonnet is self-recorded and is accompanied by video portraits of the contributors.

Admission: Adult £3.50, Child £1, Family £6.90, National Trust Members FREE.

The Amy Grimehouse and National Trust’s Sutton House present:

The Craft Valentine’s Massacre 
14 February 7pm to late

 Join The Amy Grimehouse for their special presentation of that 90s classic, The Craft. Explore Sutton House and participate in some anti-Valentine’s spells, Hex-Your-Ex, the Nancy Booth, The Craft Craft Room with binding and poison pen Valentine’s cards and more. All before the pre-screening show with the Bitches of Eastwick. The screening will make way for the ‘Invoking the Spirit of Manon Ball’ with Connie Francis on the jukebox and more til late. “Now is the time. This is the hour. Ours is the magic. Ours is the power.” 

Nick Fox and National Trust’s Sutton House Present:

Bad Seed 
5th February to 29th March,
Weds to Sun 12pm to 5pm

 This will include the first comprehensive survey of work by South African-born artist Nick Fox. Arranged over seven rooms, the exhibition brings together artworks created over the last ten years, principally painting but also films, installations, cyanotype prints and intricately laboured object d’art from his celebrated Nightsong and Phantasieblume series. Fox has also chosen Sutton House to launch a new artistic project called Seedbank, which invites members of the public to select seeds linked to a veiled dictionary of floral meanings to give as long term and living tokens of love and loves loss. Bad Seed will be shown simultaneously with Fox’s International touring exhibition Nightsong, at Angus-Hughes Gallery (7th February – 7 March 2015), which is also located in Hackney.

Admission: Adult £3.50, Child £1, Family £6.90, National Trust Members FREE.