Completed Painting: '[dc]circuit 04/Deleuze'

 

'[dc]circuit 04/Deleuze', Acrylics, Mixed Media & Paper Collage on Panel,
600 mm x 400 mm, 2026

My set of five ‘[dc]circuit’ paintings have been complete for a little while now, although I’ve been a bit slow in compiling posts like this to accompany them. Let’s crack straight on then, with ‘[dc]circuit 04/Deleuze’. With this one, we arrive at a dedication to the presiding philosophical presence behind all of the work I’ve been producing lately under the ‘Deleuzian Cartography’ banner. To be scrupulously fair, it should probably be titled for Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari jointly, as the specific textual reference is to their co-authored book, ‘A Thousand Plateaus’ [1.], but that risks making an already abstruse title even more unwieldy. Let’s just take it as read that Guattari was a key player in the formation of what we now regard as Deleuzian thought, both through that key text, and its foundational predecessor, ‘Anti-Oedipus’ [2.]. 

The ideas that Deleuze formulated, both with Guattari and in his own right, can be seen as some of the most radical and potentially obscure contributions to the mid twentieth century, post-Marxist (French) canon, and I’m not going to claim to be any kind of expert - or that I fully comprehend half of what they wrote. Even if I was across it all, there’s far more there than any painting (or blog post) can fully encompass. What is true though, is that even at their most dense or confusing, ‘AO’ and ‘1000P’ can provide a thrilling read of the kind that makes even the act of mis-understanding stimulating - and an incentive to keep reaching for further illumination. For anyone keen to follow that path, I would recommend reading around the subject without embarrassment, as there are plenty of commentators out there equipped to interpret the work without quite the same delight in technical language or mischievous obfuscation as D&G often employ. It quickly becomes evident that, as well as operating at the highest intellectual levels (both were highly advanced within their respective fields of Philosophy and Psycho-Analysis), they never lost an all-important sense of play within their project to overturn massive chunks of established theory. Often, one is simply left astounded by the audacity of another massive leap of imagination on their part, even as one is hacking through the next baffling paragraph of ‘explanatory’ text. Inevitably, it’s the questions, not the answers, and a willingness to intuit rather than simplistically box-off the ideas on offer, that really matter. This stuff needs repeated visits before it really starts to uncoil itself. For anyone in need of non-printed insights, I would  recommend the YouTube channels of Acid Horizon and Gavin Young Philosophy, as possible ways in, although, to be honest, there’s a host of others on there equally prepared to smooth the way.

As far as my own paintings are concerned, it may be enough for now to recognise certain key principles within the corpus of Deleuzian thinking. One such is the idea of immanence - a sense of everything, including all physical phenomena as well as our perceptions and understanding of reality, as being in a constant state of ‘becoming’. Clearly, this puts D&G on the side of the creative angels, and it’s certainly the case that they see art activity and creative thinking in general as intrinsic to another central concept - that of ‘production’. From my perspective, the idea of continual immanence also reflects the ceaseless processes of transformation that characterise the urban environment - something I’ve been attending to in my work and banging on about for a long time. 

In cartographic terms, D&G distinguish between ‘drawing’ and ‘tracing’. They see a drawn map as being one which continually adapts to a mutable range of influences and conditions - producing itself in the moment rather than simply tracing-over or ‘reproducing’ a pre-existing schema within established boundaries. They’re talking about understanding and our intellectual/emotional interaction with reality here as much as about the simple charting of terrain. Hopefully though, you can see where all the fragmentation and reconfiguration of street plans in my own work might fit in. The use of quasi-geographical terminology is a commonplace throughout the Deleuzian world, with ‘planes of consistency' or ‘immanence’ and, most importantly, the notion of ‘territorialisation/deterritorialisation’ recurring throughout. Again, the latter term relates ideas and thought generally - the simplistic interpretation being the idea that we should be aspiring to continually formulate new territories of understanding or activity through the dismantling, abandonment, or migration from older ones. Nomadism is thus an important principle for them, not in the sense that we might never pause or establish any new structures/territories, but rather that we should always be looking for a new ‘line of flight’ to propel us on to the next. For them the impetus seems to be less toward cementation and increasing reinforcement of established structures of thought, and rather the ‘assemblage' of concepts and decisive actions, with all avenues of potential dismantling and re-assemblage left open (in all directions). This relationship between the geographic and mental worlds fascinates me, given that my own work aspires to map the territories I regularly inhabit, but also those related to in my reading, and indeed, the meditations they inspire, as I move through my own urban surroundings.

Fluid dynamics (or, ahem - currents) are always more important to D&G than strictly constrained routes (keep ripping up those maps), with a sense of the 'rhizome' (a tangled, if still discrete formation), being far superior to any hieratic formations around a central structure. If the electrons are forced to run around a printed circuit, with all its stops and junctures, the photons that result may scatter in all directions, reflecting back from each new configuration of surrounding objects in the process. They regard the less predictable sprouting of new growth seen in a plant species such as the potato, as being of more value than the mirroring of roots and branches within a tree. Their objection to the latter is that it is merely a reproduction of forms within monolithic constraints, limiting rather than facilitating the generation of anything genuinely new. For them, arborescence represents tradition, the reproduction of established memes, resort to inferior/superior hierarchies - and by negative extension, the potential for fascism as an ultimate conclusion. Oh, and then there’s the ‘Body Without Organs’, but perhaps we should leave that for another day.

If any of this makes any sense at all, I can only hope that some of it might be reflected - even if only to a small extent, in these ‘Deleuzian Cartography’ paintings. If nothing else, I think it’s possible to see some attempt to inject even greater degrees of organic tangle and flow into this Deleuze-dedicated one. And whilst Pollock-dribbles are admittedly, a pretty hackneyed trope by now, there’s still a case to be made for Jackson’s vast, spontaneously-generated networks of fluid enamel as being amongst the most Deleuzian mode of painting - in their mechanics, at least. If you don’t buy that, then maybe just remember that D&G repeatedly emphasised the importance of play - and squiggly drips remain among the most fun you can have with a pot of paint and a stick!

I’ll extend this (admittedly, dense) post with a little more insight into the alchemical theme that also runs through this ‘[dc]circuit’ suite of paintings. The alchemists’ desire to manufacture gold from base metals (typically, lead), has a long and complex history, intersecting with pre-scientific belief systems of many stripes. There are numerous traditions and historical flowerings of the ‘Art’, some going back as far as the ancient Egyptians. In fact, practitioners persist even to the present day, albeit inescapably informed by modern science and in the knowledge of the essential impossibility of the task, in any practical sense. In passing, it would seem that this was probably intuited by many, long before the advent of modern chemistry. Certainly, many deluded and/or opportunist rulers craved the idea of limitless finance to fund their bellicose ambitions or personal coffers down the centuries (plus ça change). However, the picturesque punishments prescribed for any charlatan promising what they could not deliver suggests an understanding that the likelihood of funding another elaborate scam or faux-magical fireworks spectacle was far greater than any serious pay day. However, we also need to allow that pre-Enlightenment thought, even at its most elevated, was far more accepting of the idea of mystical dimensions or hidden knowledge than we can now grasp.

What quickly becomes apparent is that the parallel symbolic, metaphorical and metaphysical dimensions of Alchemy are at least as significant as the physical ones. Down the centuries, many of those involved have come to see the reactive/chemical stages of a misplaced proto/pseudo-science as mapping symbolically onto a deeper quest for philosophical wisdom and/or spiritual enlightenment. This inevitably also ushers-in a left-turn towards alternative readings of religious doctrine, to ‘magic’, and to the occult generally. Dependant on which tradition or interpretation of Alchemy we might consult, we could find three, four, five, seven (or many more) stages described - each connecting a specific set of ingredients and physical actions with associated lexicon of symbolic imagery and identifying colours. These can be seen to correspond with progressive steps in a cyclical journey towards true wisdom or spiritual awakening. No wonder then, that even in our post-empirical era, and long after the entire physical world around us has been entirely reshaped by modern chemistry (and economics), the picturesque, mysterious aspects of Alchemy still hold a fascination in New-Agey circles, or amongst those simply looking for a less-orthodox explanation of existence.

One clearly needs to take all this with multiple pinches of salt (ironically, also one of the ingredients favoured by many alchemists), and I’m certainly not about to grow a long beard or start embroidering moons and planets on my robes any time soon. However, it does feel like the whole idea of combining base mineral ingredients, arcane (possibly counter-intuitive) processes, intuition, and a transcendence of mere practicalities - in pursuit of something enlightening or ‘enriching’, does seem to say something about the whole art-making malarkey too. If Alchemy has long been relegated to the status of pseudo-science in any practical sense, it may still retain considerable currency as a signifier of creative endeavour more generally. 

We should also pause to note that, however accidentally, many of the experiments of the alchemists would lead to genuine discoveries within modern chemistry, once they became over-coded with the scientific method. Notably, these include the development of reliable pigments, as Philip Ball [3.], amongst others, has outlined. Indeed, rather than simply replacing one world view with another, one Enlightenment morning, the process was quite naturally one of gradually applying newer empirical attitudes and methodology to the adaptation of older precepts. As is often cited, one of the founding fathers of modern science (or 'Natural Philosophy', as it was originally called), Isaac Newton, was himself a self-confessed alchemist. That's when he wasn’t also totally revolutionising our understanding of colour or, you know - pioneering mathematical calculus or laying the foundations of modern physics.

In terms of this particular panel, the red or red-purple, ‘Rubredo’ stage was generally regarded as the penultimate (and for many, the most significant) step in the alchemical process. This was the production of the mysterious ‘Philosopher’s Stone’ - a precious and elusive compound supposedly possessing numerous miraculous properties. The ability to release of gold from base matter was certainly important amongst these, but its potential function as a facilitator of metaphysical insight, or even immortality, were clearly of yet-greater significance for many. On reflection, any one of the three would be pretty cool - and maybe not so different from the  aspirations of various artists, stated or unstated, down the years!

There's a world of background information available for those keen to learn more about Alchemical tradition, in both printed and digital forms. Philip Ball's own book on the wider subject [4.] looks well worth a read, but I'll confess I haven't got to that one yet. Those less inclined to turn pages may find useful ways in at: 

https://www.alchemywebsite.com/ 

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLZ__PGORcBKxjPgYQaK1DEi5TmPQVP9xC

If both imply a certain degree of 'buy-in', they also encompass plenty of academic-level research and bona-fide historical sources.

Anyway, I should tie-up this unusually lengthy diatribe by returning to the real matter in hand, i.e. the panel depicted here. As a highly-regarded  academic philosopher - with his own mission to deterritorialise or re-articulate certain accepted doctrines in search of new understandings of reality, Deleuze (and by extension, Guattari), feels like the obvious dedicatee for the red component in my own little moment of transformative, cod-alchemical production. I won’t make any grandiose claims for its ability to act as any kind of Philosopher’s Stone, but if even just a small quota of enlightenment was achieved in its emergence, the effort wasn’t totally misplaced.

[1.]:  Gilles Deleuze & Félix Guattari, 'A Thousand Plateaus, Capitalism and Schizophrenia', (Trans. Brian Massumi), London, Bloomsbury, 1987/2001.

[2.]:  Gilles Deleuze & Félix Guattari, 'Anti-Oedipus, Capitalism and Schizophrenia' (Trans. Robert Hurley, Mark Seem & Helen R. Lane), London, Bloomsbury, 1972/2021.

[3.]:  Philip Ball, 'Alchemy in the Colours of the Renaissance' (Article), London, University College London Chemistry Dept. Bulletin, 2002.

[4.]:  Philip Ball, 'Alchemy: An Illustrated History of Elixirs, Experiments and the Birth of Modern Science', New Haven, CT, Yale University Press, 2025.

Completed Painting: '[dc]circuit 03/Proust'

 

'[dc]circuit 03/Proust', Acrylics, Paper Collage & Mixed Media on Panel,
600 mm x 400 mm, 2026

Here is the third panel in my set of five '[dc]circuit' panels, the full title being, '[dc]circuit 03/Proust'. In this case the literary reference is to Marcel Proust's magnum opus, 'À la Recherche Du Temps Perdu' - in particular, the second volume (of seven), 'A l'Ombre des Jeunes Filles en Fleure' [1.]. Continuing in the same stylistic mode as '[dc]circuit 01' and '[dc]circuit 02', the rhizomorphically reconfigured cartography here relates to Paris and Proust's fictional resort of Balbec (in reality, Cabourg in Normandy), as well as to my own immediate environment in Leicester. A key element of Proust's novel is his (unreliable) memories of youthful seaside holidays, of illusions inspired by travel in general, and of the emotional impact of rail travel, in particular. It is therefore no coincidence that cartographical references to Parisian railway terminals, the Grand Hotel and Casino in Cabourg, and Leicester's long-since repurposed Great Central Railway Station are all visible in this piece.

The elusive philosophical relationship between space and time are key concerns in all of this 'Deleuzian Cartography' work of mine, just as they are in Proust's writing. It's also fair to say that this panel is just as powerfully influenced by the philosophical modelling of time outlined by  Proust's contemporary, Henri Bergson, as it is by the complex ideas of Gilles Deleuze himself. Bergson's ideas prefigure Deleuze in several respects, and he also offered a subjective/metaphysical account of time as an alternative to the strict Relativity of Einstein's since-dominant model. My own humble intention is not to necessarily take sides with any of these super-brains (or even to claim full understanding of their ideas) but rather, to take delight in the push and pull of their various interpretations/explanations of 'Existence', as they play out in the overlapping arenas of Art, Science and Philosophy. If, as the LED circuit motifs recurring throughout these paintings suggest, a modicum of enlightenment is available, it is still hard-won. Nevertheless, the questions are always far more interesting than the answers, so why not start with the 'easy' ones? 

Of course, it's impossible to think about Proust (or Bergson), without reference to the nature of memory, and how we continually use it to reprocess our experiences within our perceptions in the present. The subjectivity and corruption of our memories have long been noted by numerous writers, thinkers and brain-scientists, and seem, if anything, even more pertinent in an age when increasing amounts of our thinking and remembering are contracted-out to machines. The visual hint toward corrupted pixellation, and gigabyte labelling in this piece are included as nods to this.

As already mentioned, there's yet another strand of possible meaning layered into the colours used in this '[dc]circuit' suite. Superficially, the yellow chosen here seemed a perfect accompaniment to the summery vibes of Proust's reflections en vacances, but is also emblematic of the third reactive stage identified by many of the historical practitioners of Alchemy, in their attempts to manufacture physical gold and/or spiritual enlightenment. This is also true of the black and (nominal) white of the two previous panels. You may be already despairing at my eagerness to overload these paintings with yet more pretentious thematic freight, and the tradition of Alchemy is certainly a complex subject to be casually tossing-in (and one with numerous potential interpretations of its own). However, the relationship between hard science and subjective philosophy do appear to be of clear relevance again here. It's also worth noting that all of my current work seems to come about as much as a result of the books I happen to read during my regular coffee-fuelled local perambulations, as from the spaces I physically inhabit whilst on them. During the gestation of these pieces, this included a history of Prague (an alchemical hot-spot) amongst all the other posh literature and baffling French philosophy. This organic, often random or impulsive, drip-feed of information, and the tangle of mental correspondences it inspires, seems very much in the Deleuzian spirit of energy flows, lines of flight and immanent production - to me, at least. Anyway, I'll try to offer a few more clues about this alchemy business in my next related post...

[1.]: Marcel Proust, 'In Search of Lost Time', Vol 1 'In the Shadow of Young Girls in Flower' (Trans. James Grieve), London/NYC, Penguin, 1919/2003

Completed Painting: '[dc]circuit 02/Borges'

'[dc]circuit 02/Borges', Acrylics, Mixed Media & Paper Collage on Panel,
600 mm x 600 mm, 2026

Here's the second in my set of five '[dc]circuit' panels. This one is '[dc]circuit 02/Borges' - offering, as it does, some kind of tribute to the literature of Argentinian author, Jorge Luis Borges. Here the circuit diagram motif, which overlays all five of the '[dc]circuits', becomes entangled with elements of maze-like geometry, which itself emerges from the underlying reconstructed cartography that anchors the set.  Further overarching insights can be gleaned from my post about '[dc]circuit 01'.

Labyrinths are, of course, a recurring motif in the short stories of Borges - not least in 'The  Garden of Forking Paths' [1.], as referenced in thematically consistent Chinese characters here. Indeed, mazes seem to characterise the intellectual convolutions of his fiction perfectly, with its tendency to fold back into itself in preference to supplying any straightforward narrative conclusions. More directly, they are also analogous to the self-contained (and possibly confounding) complexity of the urban environment. Here, along with references to my own familiar terrain in Leicester, the underlying cartography also relates to Buenes Aires and Geneva - the two cities most closely tied to the author's life.

Clearly, the square format used for this panel differs from the rectangular proportions of its predecessor.  Whilst dimensions often correspond across the set, it was never my intention to blindly repeat the same panel format - or even to envisage each piece simply hanging in a level row. In fact, the final arrangement of the set, were they to be exhibited, is one major issue that remains to be settled. In the absence of a convenient empty wall of sufficient size readily to hand, I imagine I'll need to shuffle around some photographic versions - printed at scale, to decide on that. It's quite possible that various alternative arrangements might suggest themselves, rather than a single definitive hang, but there's only one way to find out...

[1.]: Jorge Luis Borges, 'The Garden of Forking Paths', in 'Fictions' (Trans. Andrew Hurley), London/NYC, Penguin, 1941/2000

[Compuesto sin A.I.]

Completed Painting: '[dc]circuit 01/Sartre'

 

'[dc]circuit 01/Sartre', Acrylics, Mixed Media & Paper Collage on Panel,
600 mm x 400 mm, 2026

For some months, I've been working simultaneously on five panels, designed to be viewed together as a set. All five are now finished to the same level, so it's finally time to go public with them. Here's the first, entitled, '[dc]circuit 01/Sartre.' I'll admit that's a fairly arch title (and possibly a rip-off of the kind of labelling Aphex Twin might employ), but it does offer some clues about what's going on here.

In general aesthetic and overall methodology, these five clearly belong with the other 'Deleuzian Cartography' pieces I've produced in recent times. Hence the initial '[dc]' identifier. In fact they grew out of the 'Deleuzian Cartography 6' panel I completed last summer, with each of the electrical lighting circuit diagrams collected in that piece acting individually as a dominant motif here each time. 'circuit 01 - 05' thus becomes the sub-series identifier for these five panels.

The alternative appelation, '/Sartre', relates to the fact that each of these pieces also alludes to an individual author and/or philosopher of importance to me. All were prominent on my personal reading list duringb the period when these paintings were in progress. Some years back, I produced a series of map-based paintings in which cartographic fragments combined with found texts to signify my physical and mental journeys around my local patch, here in Leicester. Those pieces featured in an exhibition titled 'Mental Mapping' which I shared with Andrew Smith. That title (suggested by Andrew) seemed to describe what I was trying to do very well, and in reality, it still does. My hope is that these more recent cartographic mash-ups are a little more sophisticated in certain ways (albeit, somewhat more restrained), but it's definitely the case that I'm still trying to construct a form of subverted cartography, in synthesis with multiple over-codings of potential meanings/narrative. It seems that the found texts I harvested from the physical environment back then are now replaced by the literary texts I routinely carry around with me these days (usually in anticipation of yet another coffee stop). 

Much of the territory I'm obsessively dismantling and reassembling still relates to my local environment, but buried in there are also maps of various locations significant to the five featured writers. As this first one pays homage to Jean-Paul Sartre, the terrain of Leicester's 'everyday' zones become entangled with the street maps of Saint Germain (his intellectual H.Q.) and Le Harvre (as reimagined in his philosophical novel 'Nausea' [1.]). 

As far as the circuits themselves are concerned, beyond their obvious geometric/emblematic appeal, they're pretty straightforward signifiers for the various energy flows constituting any urban environment. As such, they could be said to chart the city, just as the maps do. However, given that each diagram relates to a specific LED lighting circuit, perhaps they also hint that all  those slightly dog-eared and ring-stained paperbacks are probably the nearest I'll ever get to anything resembling genuine illumination. 

There is one other point of note with these five panels, relating to the identifying colours used each time. However, I'll save that insight until the others have revealed themselves. For now, let's just say that the Sartre-related panel was always going to be done in existentialist black(ish), wasn't it?

[1.]: Jean-Paul Sartre, 'Nausea', (Trans. Robert Baldick), London/NYC, Penguin, 1963 (1938).

Sans A.1.

Eviction Exhibition [re_configure / trans_late]

 

All Images: Knightsbridge, London, December 2025

[Translated and Reconfigured Appropriated Texts]

This typically upscale residential neighbourhood attracts families from all over the world. I had never heard of it before, and the area was completely unfamiliar to me. Daytime admission is inexpensive and affordable for everyone. In fact, many people come to visit the exhibition - often more than once. Unfortunately, the exhibition space is incredibly chaotic. Some tenants are making long journeys on their days off to visit, which can cause serious problems - leading to lost rent [potentially threatening landlords' livelihoods]. The plates remind me of children's birthday parties, and the cups are cheap and ugly. Investors who bought rental properties in the area this year have earned an average gross return of 5.5%, as tenants come in person to inquire about issues that would normally be resolved over the phone. [A good way to force them to move out is to issue an eviction notice.] There's a ‘number machine’ that can calculate huge sums of money, and a rather unusual umbrella being used as a weapon. Call centre staff are reportedly now answering calls and witnessing the chaos first hand. It might sound exaggerated, but I can assure you - it's true.

The building's facade and courtyard are simply stunning, but unfortunately, due to the weather, the city council couldn't fully appreciate their magnificence. However, the delegation was able to install massive columns and crosses in several other houses. To prevent further deterioration, the council announced it would commission an artist to create a sculpture [a plaster replica] of the facade, during the ‘isolation, stabilisation, digitisation, and recording’ phase. I had a simple question about their new museum, so I contacted them via email and was told that, before making any decisions, the Finance Director would be consulted according to Article 151 [it was truly shocking to see their extravagant lifestyle at the time]. Other countries were also invited to showcase their innovations and accordingly, the floors were closed earlier than usual. Don’t mention that, If your investment property has a mortgage, you'll be in arrears on payments. Despite having 100,000 items for sale, ranging from steam engines and giant machines to cutting-edge scientific instruments and ingenious technological innovations, this was still the case here. Countless lavish exhibits were intended to impress, but ultimately, they were disappointing. 

I resent the emails. Payment deadlines are worrying, and you have to constantly watch out for annoying visitors who will look around and bother others to get the ‘perfect photo’. Inspecting everything would probably take a whole day. Subletting is a pressing issue and, in fact, we don't have £108 million and need to raise that money first. I suggest starting with a thorough investigation, focusing on antiques [such as silk, porcelain, textiles, precious Chinese ivory, Cossack armour, and Russian malachite ceramics], and then seeing what else can be done. The house repair and homelessness assistance team noticed a decrease in calls for help, and pessimism quickly turned to enthusiasm after someone explained the concept of self-financing to the management. All the hydraulic presses were scheduled to be operational before summer, so I called to inquire, and they confirmed they had received and would reply to my communication. I still haven't received any response.

No A.I. used [for better or worse]

Christopher Wool at Gagosian, Grovenor Hill, London / Happy New Year

All Images: Christopher Wool, Gagosian, Grovenor Hill, London December 2025

Over a number of years, New Year's celebrations tended to pass me by somewhat. I had developed the small personal tradition of seeing in the new year in reflective mood, ideally with a paintbrush and a glass of something in hand. Last year broke that trend, and it seems that this year, I will again be out and about in company as the calendar clicks over. So, instead of self-indulgently ruminating on my own 'progress' or aspirations, I'll make this last post of 2025 a  celebration of my last exhibition experience of the year. As it transpires, Christopher Wool's recent show of works on paper and related sculptures turned out to be one of the most uplifting things I've seen in a long time.

I've long been a big fan of Wool's work, across the span of his career - from the early repeat patterns and painted texts, through the more painterly mid-period smears and stains, and into the ever-evolving tangles and movements towards 3D of his current 'grand old man' years. I find visual and intellectual nourishment in it all, to be honest, and consider him amongst the most engaging of those artists who prolong the relevance of centuries-old media, even as they are  pushed back and forth through the reproduction and translation technologies of the mechanical/digital era. That productive tension between analogue and the technologically mediated realms, and between the improvisational 'in the moment' experience, and the fixed but  infinitely tradable 'memory', continue to be key preoccupations in my own work.

However, beyond any of that (and above all), the show at Gagosian turned out to be a sheer sensory delight. Be it in the form of paper-based wall pieces, or mechanically-enlarged found wire tangles, Wool's language of scribbles, smears, stains, painterly gestures, printer's dots and occasional text fragments just went on mining limitless variation - often from the simplest of sources. Complexity out of minimal origins, calligraphic spontaneity, the tactility of fluid media, the chance effects of layering, the sheer delight of one thing partially glimpsed through the matrix of another, a determination to wring the maximum potential from the humblest or  disregarded gifts the world can offer - all these things (and more) are in full effect in his work, it appears.

The show in London was actually a relatively modest variation on a larger exhibit, entitled 'See, Stop Run', which Wool installed in a disused and dilapidated New York office space in 2024. The remainder of this cycle of work has found a longer-term home in Marfa, Texas, apparently. As the stunning publication from the  Manhattan show attests, the dialogue between work and context, and the material, visual and textural effects thereby generated, must have been endlessly stimulating. Urban resonances? - I should say so! That show immediately joins the list of 'things I wish I'd seen', but regrets will get us nowhere (and the prospect of a journey into the Trumpian hellscape doesn't really appeal, for obvious reasons). As it was, the stripped-down, pure-white cubicle version of Wool on offer in London, still provided an experience that continued to excite, even after a couple of hours of intensive immersion. It was only eye strain, aching legs and the need to find a publicly-accessible toilet (come on, Gagosian - surely that's not too much to ask!), that eventually dragged me away. 

Incredibly, even this opportunity might have easily passed me by. Having already been down in London for some other exhibitions a few weeks previously, it was purely by chance that I'd retrospectively noticed Wool was on show just a few hundred metres from where I'd been that day. For all of Gagosian's status within the high-end international art world, its Grovenor Hill site just isn't a location you walk past by chance, it seems. Knowing that opportunities to see a collection of his work over here don't come around too often, I hastily cleared another Saturday in the diary, organised more coach tickets, and braved torrential rain (and a few other logistical complications) to make it there before the show ended, just prior to the descent into full-on Christmapalypse. Regrets? - I'm sure the eulogy above will tell you I have none.

It's gratifying to be able to end the year with a report of something genuinely uplifting, even as it sneaked-in under the wire of 2025. Indeed, this wasn't just a cultural high water mark of my year, but one of the most memorable of the last decade. It's just a shame I can't use this slightly-delayed post as a prompt for others to also visit, but perhaps my photos can offer some pale impression of what I enjoyed. 

On that note: Happy New Year, one and all. Clearly, the good stuff's still out there, if we look hard enough.

Still composed [shamelessly] without A.I., in 2025.