Freud died but art lives

An arty weekend.  First, the Summer Exhibition at the Royal Academy. It is, again, outrageously mediocre with it’s mix of the usual RA suspects – Tracey Emin, Allen Jones, David Hockney et al – and their ludicrously overpriced offerings, and the art work of the lucky public. The Weston Room is always absorbing. I didn’t see anything special but Cindy Sherman, about whom Danaë wrote a dissertation, is always worth a glance.

The visit was greatly enhanced by bumping into Ian Hislop in the foyer. Best of all, though, was the dancing around the fountains outside.

After lunch at Tibits, it is the National Portrait Gallery and the BP Portrait Award. A particular favourite was The Shooting Gallery by Tony Noble

and, I liked our local artist Raul G(Guerrerro)’s portrait of James, a pupil at Rush Croft school.

The weekend’s fun was gently deflated by taking all the grandkids to see Cinderella, a summer(!) panto, at the Lopping Hall. I was pressed to perform on stage but Buttons agreed to give my understudy, Julian, his moment of fame.


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