Candies melting in the sun.

Concerning the talkative nature of things.

An abject object obsession.

The second of my yearly appointments at The Hari to read the art world's pulse.

South London genre-demolition-experts put on a show in a room too small for their deafening sound.

Some five months later, we return to the scene of the crime and listen to the weird noise emanating from both sides of the street.

A show for whoever has a bad taste in their mouth from reading Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari.

I get schooled at my own culture while visiting this group show comprised of South-Asian artists.

A vampire can't enter someone's home without their permission.

Migraine-inducing experimental jazz with strangely curative powers.

Thrust in the midst of another niche scene, I'm trying to figure out what this new batch of poetry is...

Paint melting off a canvas like sweat, I visited the liminal studio of Emma Windsor Liscombe.

Here's a show from Gang of Four's farewell tour told from two different perspectives.

This review has been gathering dust on my desktop for months for some reason. It’s basically useless as the show is long gone. I’m...

South London Gallery turns into an apocalyptic pit teeming with strange junk.

We return to the crime scene from the night before, under an unforgiving and indifferent sky.

The first unholy day of South x Southeast (SXSE) saw us enter the epicentre of the scene.

Transportation elsewhere to a world overrun by nature's unfettered growth.

A soulful acoustic accompaniment to an electric scream.

Skype vegetates on life support until its euthanisation in May.

Sleep is the enemy when you foolishly don't get accommodation on a trip.

An out-of-control animal gets dropped into a respectable private view.

January 1st 2025.   Rain lashed the streets outside, the wet surface acting as a distorted amplifier to every car driving past....

My sleepless and twisted wanderings around the Slade School Interm Degree Show of 2024.