I quite like it. That's the first thing to say about Fair Play. After Frieze London and Masters, Fair Play felt like a different animal entirely. Fresh, dynamic, easy to digest. The space at One Marylebone was small, and yes, it got busy and crowded at times, but you could still move through it without feeling like you were part of a parade. It felt like going to hang out. That's not a small thing. The model is simple: no galleries, just artists standing with their own work,

I always like Frieze Sculpture. Every year, without fail. Free sculptures in a park. For everyone, for every taste, for every encounter. Walking between Frieze London and Masters always feels like a different proposition entirely. No barrier. No QR code. No performance of belonging. Just eleven works scattered through the English Gardens, and whoever happens to be passing through. The theme this year is hybridity, curated by Fatoş Üstek for the fourth time. It's one of those

I usually prefer Masters because it offers a kind of variety and depth you can't easily find elsewhere, objects and paintings that carry centuries in them that ask something of you beyond the immediate. London, by contrast, is fun, modern, loud. But this year, something inverted. I enjoyed Frieze London, but only up to a point. Masters left me colder than expected, and I will get back to that. But first, I should be honest about where I'm standing. I work in heritage projects

I went to see Frida at Tate Modern a few weeks ago and I needed some time to process it. As you know, I don't write about every exhibition now. When I write, it's because of research, or because something has moved me, for better or worse. This one moved me and not entirely in the direction I expected. I love Frida. Her work has been with me since I was very young: the aesthetic with the surreal touches, the way she painted (we are talking about disabled art), the way she cut

V&A East Museum opened on a changed ground, at the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park. Built for a global spectacle in 2012, then slowly rebuilt again for luxury flats rather than social housing. Just next door, residents of the Carpenters Estate fought plans that would push them out of their lifelong homes. So when I walked into V&A East, I wasn't a critic or a curator passing through, I was also a local! A local who doesn't live in a shiny new build or hipster land. So I needed t

A kitchen table is rarely neutral in this project. It carries the weight of habit: tea poured without asking, recipes remembered by touch rather than measurement, conversations that move between languages. During the first phase of Kitchen Stories: Recipes of Belonging, this simple setting, recreated in libraries and community spaces across Newham became a site of exchange. Participants were invited to sit, look at archival photographs, write a recipe, and share the story tha

Under Our Skin is an exhibition that looks closely at what we carry beneath the surface: the lessons we were taught, the masks we learned to wear, and the moments when those masks begin to crack. Through diverse queer perspectives, the exhibition explores how identity is shaped, tested and embodied. These works remind us that what gets under our skin often stays with us, shaping who we become. While rooted in LGBTQ+ experiences, the exhibition speaks to something universal th

I almost didn’t go to the London Art Fair this year (even with a press pass). My brain was already full and the idea of adding one more thing to my mental to-do list felt…ambitious. But I went. In a low-pressure, no-expectations kind of way and I’m glad with that approach. What I loved straight away was being welcomed by textile work at the entrance. Soft, tactile, patient. It felt generous, and honestly refreshing. I really hope textiles keep taking up more space in the comi

Visiting the Gaza Biennale’s Istanbul Pavilion at Depo felt less like entering an exhibition and more like stepping into a conversation. One that invites you to sit down, listen, and reflect. The space was arranged with corners to pause, sofas to rest on, and open tables where curators and visitors could meet everyday with a cup of Turkish tea. It wasn’t about spectacle or grand statements or long texts. It was about connection, about holding space for stories that matter. So

I spent a few hours at Frieze this year, and as always there was a tremendous amount of art to see. If you try to cram everything into one day (which I did), you’ll walk away with a sense of exhilaration and exhaustion. I know for myself I can’t spend a whole day inside a fair and, to be honest, I don’t want another full-overwhelm experience. Drawing boundaries between work and passion felt important this time. This year, the young galleries were placed right at the front of

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I went to Christie’s in London not knowing much about Marwan’s work. I went with a Palestinian artist, and that shaped how I saw the...