American comedian Dulcé Sloan enters the stage randomly talking, with what feels like finishing off a conversation with a close friend, about her messy and confusing first night. The audience doesn’t seem to know how to make sense of this abrupt start; felt through the silence and awkward laughs in the house. However, Sloan quickly picks it up by discussing the UK weather, referring to the sun as a “torch” playing tricks on us, giving no heat, just light. The crowd laughs in agreement with her complaints and then with her mocking of the roadmen here: “I’m not scared of anyone; give me your wallet.” Unsurprisingly, the UK jokes land well with the crowd, and she continues this momentum throughout the night, with her comedy driven by her sarcasm, side eyes and sudden loud beams of expressions.

With some overused internet jokes, like talking about “broke dick”, she redeems herself with funny facial expressions, constantly throwing side eyes that match her confidence which manifests through lines such as; because she is “fat” does not mean she isn’t beautiful, as “we have all seen ugly skinny girls”. She knows her worth, which is why she pleads to the women in the crowd to be self-aware and stop going for “broke dick”. She says, “It’s good because it has to be.” This part leans heavily on the “broke dick” joke, but with some improvisation and audience engagement, the show becomes entertaining. She humorously critiques how human males compare to their counterparts in other species. “You want my number? Kill that man,” she quips, sending the crowd into hysterics as she delivers a relentless stream of witty jabs at modern dating and how men pathetically woo women nowadays.

Sloan introduces us to her family: her brother, who is “just existing”, and her “crazy” mother, who all live with her and drive her nuts with their silly and nonsensical bickering, like arguing in the early hours of 4am if Bigfoot is real or not. She paints the image of her mother well with the stories she shares and her impersonations of her, making them all the more enjoyable and even more hilarious to hear.

At times, the performance feels a bit hurried with certain jokes that could benefit from refinement. Sloan’s comedy draws inspiration from internet humour and tweets, as seen in lines like “White women got bored, and now I have to work.” However, it is Sloan’s dynamic delivery and vibrant energy that truly drive the show, keeping the audience entertained and laughing throughout.

Featured Image: Credit Matt Waters

Review by Rim Alkaiat

Read Rim’s latest Review: Immerse yourself in the art of flowers at Saatchi Gallery – ‘Flowers – Flora in Contemporary Art & Culture’ – Until 5 May – Abundant Art

About:

Comedian and actress Dulcé has appeared on The Daily Show with Trevor Noah since 2017, earning an Emmy Award and a GLAAD Award nomination for her work on the show. She is also the co-host of podcast Hold Up with Daily Show writer and fellow comedian Josh Johnson, and has appeared as a guest judge on the iconic long-running series RuPaul’s Drag Race.

Dulcé Sloan was at Soho Theatre from 17th to 22nd March

Visit Soho Theatre for their upcoming performances

How do you capture the present, the amorphous, slippery now, when, in the very act of noticing it, it has already disappeared into the past? Jasmin Vardimon’s latest work, NOW, at the newly opened Sadler’s Wells East, grapples with this paradox, attempting to record ephemeral moments before they slip away. Through movement, the piece seeks to capture the sliding scales of multiple nows—the past nows, the future nows, the collective nows and all the illusory nows in between. Celebrating 25 years of Vardimon’s company, this nonlinear narrative layers old and new ideas into ever evolving perspectives.

The piece opens with two perfectly poised protestors waving fluttering white truce flags, frozen smiles stretched over high cheekbones as they sway mechanically to eerily optimistic classical music. This moment of relative stillness feels delicate, a palpably fragile peace soon broken, inverted and interrogated by eight technically astute dancers over the next 90 minutes.

Both playful and political, the dancers question our relationship between personal nows and wider geopolitical nows. “We are sharing our now, and yet our now is different,” they ruminate, sliding across the floor like a conveyor belt, finishing each other’s sentences in a perpetual attempt to hold onto the present. The execution feels slightly loose, yet it opens up urgent questions about our current realities—peace and war, global catastrophes, surrender, oppression, dissent, and love.

Frontal and overhead hidden cameras distort the dancers’ movements, casting new perspectives on the back of the stage in a kind of voyeuristic surveillance. A distinctly Trumpian moment emerges as one dancer projects, “What is the best nation?” only to cheekily answer, “Imagination.”

The performance gains momentum when two dancers become news presenters, reporting on conflict, famine and loss. Their controlled movements escalate in speed and vigour as they struggle to keep pace with the rapidly evolving headlines. Yet the quicker they move, the faster new content generates, rendering each update obsolete before it can even be registered. This sequence unfolds against the backdrop of the billowing white truce flag, which deteriorates into thousands of pieces of confetti—pieces of peace scattered across the stage.

A striking moment of choreography unravels as a dancer sweeps white confetti into a chessboard pattern, the black stage floor cutting through. The dancers, now in full red or white, are confined to their squares, like borders that dictate their movements. They clash with opponents in opposing colours, part of a wider political game where unseen forces control them like pawns.

A romantic narrative threads through the piece, offering moments of temporary respite, yet their love, like the rest of the performance, is fleeting. Projections of rib cages and beating hearts flicker across the dancers’ chests, carefully captured and passed between lovers in an admirable feat of production. Yet they collapse together, buried beneath white confetti, which swirls around them like a pyroclastic ash cloud, engulfing them as the earth falls apart.

Beyond the nihilistic and semi-absurdist scenes, the choreography is impressively innovative and playful. A rope first serves as a tightrope, then transforms into a staircase for aid workers to climb. On the floor, the dancers writhe in jolting, erratic movements along the rope, while projections on the back wall distort the perspective, as if they are dancing on a tightrope and scaling the stairs in a meticulously executed feat of illusion.

This performance is so richly packed that it is impossible to mine all its golden moments, but Jasmin Vardimon certainly has her finger firmly on the pulse of the times.

Review by Florence Marling

Read Florence’s latest Review 

Featured Image – Jasmin Vardimon’s NOW, Image-Credit-Ben-Harries, 5-8th March 2025 at Sadler’s Wells East 

Concept, direction & choreography: Jasmin Vardimon MBE 

Created with & performed by: Evie Hart, Sean Moss, Hobie Schouppe, Juliette Telier, Donny Beau Ferris, Risa Maki, Andre Rebelo 

Set design: Guy Bar-Amotz & Jasmin Vardimon MBE

Coming soon Jasmin Vardimon – ALiCE – Sadler’s Wells Theatre

Making art within the realm of physical reality borrows much of its impact from the captivation that reality already induces, re-contextualising phenomena within a gallery space to stimulate new understanding of the world. The physical complexity of a painting, a textile work, or a multimedia sculpture cannot be simulated within the digital realm. To avoid imitation, digital art must utilize its unique potential to create new methodologies of artistic meaning.

Curated by Helen Starr, “What is it Like” at arebyte Gallery showcases the effectiveness of digital media in exploring metaphysical concepts, particularly through its ability to simulate realities that accentuate crucial factors within human qualia such as environmental context, physical embodiment, and instinctive neurological processes. Viewers are invited to examine how these simulated factors, more visible in their virtual fabrication, shed light on what it means to experience consciousness. The show is inspired by Thomas Nagel’s 1974 essay, ‘What Is It Like To Be a Bat?”, that examines the subjectivity of consciousness. Through its dependence on one’s integration of their subjective human experience, the show examines what it means to be human in the face of technological advancement, especially in the field of artificial intelligence, where the complexity of the human experience is often overshadowed by powerful yet specific abilities of AI.

The exhibition features works by Anna Bunting-Branch, Choy Ka Fai, Damara Inglês, Katarzyna Krakowia, Lawerence Lek and Kira Xonorika. arebyte Gallery, located on the utopian-feeling London City Island in east London, feels inherently technological and functional, with minimal concrete surfaces everywhere and exposed ventilation systems on the ceiling. Each artwork is presented on its own TV screen, mounted on latticed metal panels that can be moved by the viewer on metal tracks mounted to the floor and ceiling. The monitors are programmed to reveal new imagery and trigger sounds as the panel is moved. As explained in the curational text, this configuration acts as a work in itself, situating the art within an interactive archival system that mimics memory retrieval. The minimal, uniform layout was surprising as it required more immediate curiosity and interaction from me than I was expecting from an art exhibit. However, this was an appropriate introduction to the work that required participation for conceptual appreciation.

Anna Bunting-Branch’s work, “META” (2019) is the most immediately visible from the gallery entrance, and is the only work to feature a VR headset. Anna’s hand painted imagery is arranged within a three dimensional virtual world that depicts an alien planet, inspired by her interest in modern sci fi literature and other topics related to her practice. This work most directly questions what it is like to experience another’s consciousness, and as someone with little previous exposure to virtual reality, putting on the headset was very immersive. The animation traverses differing points of view, from flying on an alien planet, being a red-bodied alien sitting at a restaurant with others, and being an interdimensional being travelling to a new world. While hard to explain with words, this work plays with your senses and reminds you of how they discern the environment you physically inhabit, and how their intentional or manipulated use creates a subjective consciousness.

Lawrence Lek’s “Nepenthe” (2021-) is part of an ongoing series of video games that explore themes of memory and identity in virtual worlds. The game takes place in the “Old Summer Palace”, a classical Chinese garden palace that was destroyed by an Anglo-French expeditionary force during the second Opium war in 1860. The game allows the viewer to walk through the virtual world as a lone traveller, encountering the ghosts of past civilisations within the ruins. The game is built using the Unreal video game engine and features a musical score by the artist. As you explore the virtual ruins of the palace, interactive signage provides interaction with the ghosts of past civilizations at the location, suggesting the importance of spatial context in memory, and drawing parallels between game mechanics and patterns of human exploration. Although the narrative of the texts was quite hard to follow, the immersive experience made me more curious about the information I was reading, and reminded me of how impactful environmental context can be when encountering new information as a human. I couldn’t help but think of possible educational implications of this kind of experience, for the semantic memories I have now of the texts, are bolstered by the associations of feelings induced by the immersive environment the knowledge was acquired in. When describing Lek’s work, the curational text delves deeper into theories behind how an environment impacts the integration of information, such as Global Workspace Theory and Integrated Information Theory. This work is effective at stimulating thought about the subjectivity of human consciousness, and is appropriately selected for the theme of the show.

Crypto Fashion Week: Fashion Cyph3r (2022) by Damara Inglês shows a recording from an interview the artist did for fashion week taking place in the metaverse, where Damara and two others interact as avatars in a surreal location, standing on a kind of lily pad island, on a calm ocean at golden hour. The recording acts as a work in itself conceptually because Damara is able to open up about her Mother’s early-onset Alzheimer’s diagnosis for the first time during the interview. In the context of the show’s themes, this interaction suggests the importance of a safe and accepting co-presence for humans when being emotionally vulnerable, and how simulating certain kinds of co-presence perhaps unattainable in the real world could help us to communicate more intimately. For instance, therapy sessions in the metaverse at a calming location rather than on a zoom call in your bedroom. The environment presented was very serene, and I can see how experiencing it in VR could change one’s disposition to perhaps share information more freely.

After watching Inglês’ video and experiencing VR in Anna Bunting-Branch’s work, I thought about the vulnerabilities in my own consciousness in terms of how it can be manipulated by virtual reality for my benefit or own expense for others, and the importance of regulation in the future as VR technology becomes less and less distinguishable from real life. For these reasons, I think art that prepares us for these conversations, like what is shown in “What Is It Like”, will become increasingly popular and important as technology advances exponentially.

The rest of the show features dense works that explore other factors in human consciousness, such as Choy Ka Fai’s cybernetic dance experiment, “Unbearable Darkness Game Demo” (2020), and an excerpt from the corresponding physical performance (2018). This work explores potential interactions with the late Butoh dance master Tatsumi Hijikata, through his choreography using new technologies. Kira Xonorika’s film reminds one of how difficult it is for a more complex human consciousness to digest AI generated content. Overall, “What Is It Like?”, is a conceptually heavy show that proposes many important questions about how we define human consciousness, and ironically shows how AI can help humans distinguish themselves from AI.

The accompanying exhibition booklet is very well written, featuring interesting excerpts from other relevant publications and highlighting Helen Starr’s expertise on how the human brain constructs tailored realities. As a show that requires substantial engagement from the viewer to be grasped conceptually, the experience would certainly be rewarding for creatives in search of contemporary questions to answer with their own work, and anyone interested in how humanity will define itself within a techno-saturated future.

Review by Chris Wieland

Featured Image: Equirectangular stills from META, 360-degree video with sound by Aliyah Hussain, 2019. Image Courtesy of Anna Bunting-Branch

What Is It Like? is an exhibition presented in partnership with WRO Art Centre through funding by the British Council as part of the UK/Poland Season 2025, a diverse programme of over 100 multi artform events in 40 cities in both countries. Featuring artists from around the world, including the UK and Poland, What Is It Like? will run at arebyte Gallery, London, 27 February – 4 May 2025, before heading to Wroclaw, Poland. In May, part of the exhibition will be shown at the 21st Media Art Biennale WRO, which has the theme Qualia – following which the full exhibition will be presented at WRO Art Centre 18 September – 31 October 2025. Exhibiting artists: Anna Bunting-Branch, Damara Inglês, Choy Ka Fai, Katarzyna Krakowiak Balka, Lawrence Lek and Kira Xonorika.

For more information visit arebyte Gallery

Read Chris’s latest Review: ‘Breaking Lines’ – Futurism and the origins of experimental and concrete poetry in post-war Britain: A rare perspective on the boundaries of poetry – Estorick Collection, until 11 May – Abundant Art

There is more to flowers than just their physical beauty. Their influence on our contemporary culture and significance in history is explored in this exhibition, which showcases over 500 artworks, including photography, fashion, film, music, literature, and science.

The exhibition is divided into 9 parts, each exploring different themes. Roots, the first room, establishes the history of flowers in art, with references to the Romantic era and Art Nouveau. There are featured artists such as Alphonse Mucha, a renowned artist during the Art Nouveau movement who produced highly recognisable and stylised posters. A dedicated space for William Morris includes his own works, such as loaned tapestries and tiles from the William Morris Gallery. It also features his influences and inspirations with the likes of John Keats’ poetry, William De Morgan’s tiles, and Walter Crane’s illustrations. An interesting aspect of the curation in this room is its layout where each painting is accompanied by a contemporary counterpart. Beside John Baptiste Bosschaert’s ‘Still Life with Flowers’, is a 70-minute looped film that sits in a frame and looks like a still life painting itself by Rob and Nick Carter titled ‘Transforming Flowers in a Vase’. At first glance it may just look like a photograph of a vase of flowers; however, if you observe closely, you’ll notice the subtle movements in this film. The room concludes with a large tempera print of Sandro Botticelli’s Primavera on display. Unfortunately, the large-scale print fails to make the intended impact, as most visitors simply walk past it. For a room dedicated to classical paintings, this is rather disappointing to witness.

The second room titled ‘In Full Bloom’; focuses on contemporary artworks by international artists. Artist Anne Von Freyburg was present at the press viewing to discuss her process behind her textile piece ‘Floral Arrangement 1’ (After Jan van Huysum, Still Life). She mentioned the significance of flowers and textiles in this piece as a means of reclaiming female identity and power. It’s a vibrant arrangement hung on the wall with strings of thread spilling down to the ground, almost looking like drips of thick acrylic paint.

The third room focuses on fashion and how flowers are incorporated into clothing and accessories, with displays by iconic designers such as Vivienne Westwood and Mary Quant. Seeing these garments up close is definitely an exciting opportunity you do not want to miss out on. It doesn’t just stop there, however; flowers in fashion are explored in many different ways in this room, for example, contemporary artist Daniel the Gardener, who uses tattoos of flowers as a means of decorating the body.

The standout room is surely the one with Rebecca Louise Law’s installation, La Fleur Morte, which explores the space between life and death. An immersive space where over 100,000 dried-up flowers hang down from the ceiling, taking up the whole 2000 square feet of the room.

Other rooms in the exhibition, such as room 8, which is dedicated to science, or room 6, dedicated to flowers in media (film, music, and literature), seem less engaged with the central theme. They appear more as general displays providing additional content without deeply engaging with the overarching narrative.

The exhibition effectively showcases the various ways flowers have been explored and incorporated into art. Overall, there are numerous pieces in this exhibition that you won’t want to miss. Featuring iconic works by major artists as well as new exhibits by contemporary artists being shown for the first time, the exhibition offers a unique and enriching experience for its audience.

Review by Rim Alkaiat

Featured Image : Rebecca Louise Law, The Womb, 2019-20. Courtesy the artist

Tickets: https://www.saatchigallery.com/product/flowers

Read Rim’s latest Review: Kew Gardens Orchid Festival 2025 – a dazzling and vibrant tribute to Peru’s natural landscape – until 2 March – Abundant Art

Upon entering the glasshouse, you are suddenly transported to the stunning gardens of Peru, where the ceiling of leaves and orchids hangs above you, and sculptures of insects and birds hang around with you. The Royal Botanical Gardens have created an immersive experience, playing traditional Peruvian music as you walk through the big aloe leaves, sounds of birds chirping in the background, and the sweet aroma of the orchids drifting throughout. 

Kew celebrates the biodiversity of Peru and its beautiful orchids in the different ways it has them displayed, whether hung in baskets, woven into arch entryways, cascading down from above, or sitting in pots on the ground. You are completely surrounded by the colours of summer. It certainly does feel like you should be prancing around in sandals and your light cotton shirt with an iced tea in hand as you listen to the sound of the waterfalls. 

Many of the orchids on display have been purchased from nurseries in the Netherlands, sourced from Peru through trading, alongside Kew’s own collection of home-grown orchids. You’ll be lucky to see many of Peru’s diverse and sacred plants, such as the Phragmipedium Kovachii, considered to be one of the most beautiful orchids in Peru. As well as that, you’ll have the opportunity to see endangered plants like the Puya Raimondii. You can also expect to watch a short film, Botanica Extrema, Extreme Beauty, where Kew scientists Justin Moat, Carolina Tocar, and Oliver Whaley travel to Peru to discover that paramotoring proves to be an effective way of reaching inaccessible and delicate ecosystems. 

The festival features many artworks by Peruvian artists that take inspiration and have been influenced by Peru’s incredible natural landscape. Gisella Stapleton’s paintings of ladies dancing the Tondero are inspired by the Oncidium Orchids (also known as dancing orchids) that are on display. The festival also includes a selection of photographs from Mariano Vivanco’s PERU: A visual journey collection. His classic editorial style can be seen in the large-scale photographs where he pays homage to his homeland, displaying its heritage and folklore. You are met with his photographs upon first entering the glasshouse, and throughout, surrounded by the plants. Vivanco’s photographs are intended to guide visitors through Peru’s history of its rich ancient civilisations to compare with the nature displays. You are provided with contextual information about these works and their relation to the festival.  

The display ends with Vivanco’s Mother Earth, which encourages reflection on the different ways of expressing gratitude to our surroundings, inspired by the Pachamama ceremony, which is a ritual that honours Andean, the goddess of Mother Earth.  

Kew succeeds in creating an immersive and captivating event that you definitely do not want to miss out on. They invite you to feel like you are really walking through Peru’s natural landscape, a lovely way to escape the winter blues and get you excited for the summer. 

Review by Rim Alkaiat

Featured Image: Courtesy Kew Royal Botanical Gardens

 Tickets: https://www.kew.org/kew-gardens/whats-on/kew-orchid-festival 

 Read Rim’s latest Review: Amy Gledhill’s ‘Make Me Look Fit On The Poster’: A relatable comedy on body image and awkward cringe-worthy moments that keep you up at night – Soho Theatre, until 8 February – Abundant Art

If there is one thing Gledhill wants us to take away from this show, it is to feel in control of our confidence and self-esteem, oh, and also to leave a trail of kisses before going down for the “willy-kiss”.

You cannot help but love Gledhill; her natural charisma pulls you in the minute she enters the stage. She walks in, greeting the audience, kindly asking if we would like to go to bed with her, then hands out knickers for the audience to throw on stage. From the moment she enters, the crowd is already beaming with laughter which gets louder as she starts off with her first act. Her story of going ape in order to impress her crush, Fit Simon, which did not seem to go as planned.

One of Gledhill’s greatest strengths is her hilarious ability at physical comedy. This really beams with her toothy “willy-kiss” story.  The crowd was cackling near tears at her re-enactment of her toothy blowjob. She compares herself biting down for balance to a dog tugging onto a chew toy. The story proceeds to get even more absurd, ending up with her then-boyfriend needing to take a trip to A&E after fainting in the shower.

Absurd is definitely a way to describe many of the situations Gledhill gets herself into, and she really embraces the ridiculousness of these situations, as well as herself. She takes them as far as she can go with her jokes, such as in her game of “Would you still love me if…?” she asks if she were to have her bum-hole in the place of her mouth.

Gledhill hones in on relatability in connecting with the audience. She shares vulnerable moments such as her struggle with body image from an insensitive letter from an ex-boyfriend and opens up about her horrible sexual assault on the train. She smartly joins in these serious topics with comedy through punch lines and running gags, like, what if she had Mark Libbett’s hair?

Gledhill loves to poke fun at herself, not in the typical self-deprecating kind of way; she encourages self-love and knowing your worth, and you can tell she is confident in herself in the way she delivers these stories as she uses moments of insecurity to fuel herself with passion and craft. A fresh take on making fun of yourself, one that is exciting and fun to watch, making her a lovable performer and comedian.

Review by Rim Alkaiat

Featured image: Amy Gledhill live at Soho Theatre (c) Paul Gilbey

Winner of the Edinburgh Comedy Award for Best Show at this year’s festival, and a three-time Edinburgh Comedy Award nominee, Amy Gledhill is the only act ever to be nominated twice in one year; both for Best Newcomer (solo show) and Best Show, as one half of the critically acclaimed sketch duo The Delightful Sausage.

Make Me Look Fit on the Poster – Soho Theatre https://sohotheatre.com/events/amy-gledhill-make-me-look-fit-on-the-poster-2/

Read Rim’s latest Review: ‘A Good House’- A piercing exploration of privilege and belonging in Cape Town – Royal Court Jerwood Theatre, until 8 February – Abundant Art

Over a century after its inception, analysing futurism as an art movement cannot help but be impacted by hindsight of the evolution and implications of the ideas it explored. It can be seen as myopic in how it idolised technological progress in its philosophy, swept up in the excitement of rapid change in the late 19th and early 20th century, without clear foresight for what these changes would entail for society. This perspective is also informed by the radical political ideologies that futurism encouraged, which are commonly seen as destructive by 21st century standards. Of course, this present day perspective is rooted in the original societal inspirations of futurism losing their novelty and excitement, and originating more destructive advancements in technology that have led to more pessimistic outlooks on this progress.

Despite the ideologies of Futurism aging rather poorly, the innovations in artistic formal qualities that it inspired in many disciplines are undeniable, and have proven to be applicable to many artistic ideologies. Presented by the Estorick collection, “Breaking Lines – Futurism and the Origins of Experimental poetry” explores the formal innovations of Italian futurist poetry and how it layed the experimental foundations for concrete poetry in post-war Britain.

Split across the two ground floor galleries, the first room of the show highlights how the Italian futurists, led by their founder, Filippo Tomasso Marinetti, broke poetic convention in their experimental use of form, structure, and sonic connotations of words. Futurism was fueled by a determination to reflect the atmosphere of industrialisation and technological advancement in the early 20th century, which produced new forms, sounds, and complex mechanical systems ripe with artistic inspiration. Concrete poetry of post-war Britain fills the second room of the show, with a particular focus on the work of Dom Sylvester Houédard (1924 – 1992). Houédard, or “dsh” as he referred to himself as, was an eccentric figure who frequented avant-garde circles in Britain after working as a military intelligence officer during the second world war and later becoming a Benedictine Monk at Prinknash Abbey in Gloucestershire. He was also a Theologian, reflected in the works in this exhibit, described in the press release as “exploring themes of transcendence, contemplation and the relationship between the material and the divine”. The display of concrete poetry also includes notable works from other British artists, lent from various collections.

The first room is densely populated, filled with full publications and various excerpts of mostly Italian experimental poetry, framed on the walls and in horizontal glass cases, with monitors showing a flip through video of any full publications on display. The walls are decorated with intermittent floor to ceiling wallpaper strips of enlarged sections of the various works on display, which are hung to overlap these sections in some places, playing with the scale of the works and intensifying the visual landscape of the room. At first I found this to be overwhelming, but after looking at all the works, the curational choice seemed to match the loud, somewhat bombastic style inherent in the futurist works. Without being able to read any Italian, aside from the obvious cognates, the masterful composition of many of the poems became more apparent, directing attention to the qualities that actually influenced the concrete poetry present in the second room of the show. On the far wall, six pages of the futurist movement’s official newspaper, “L’Italia Futurista” display for me is the most beautifully composed poetry in the room. While looking over the largely abstracted compositions of foreign words, letters, and some small illustrations, I found that the natural instinct to read from left to right made an interesting path for the eye, different from the one that may be taken if each letter was replaced with a shape. Futurist literature manifestos from Filippo Tomasso Marinetti, a large print of Carlo Belloli’s famous poem “Guerra/Terra” (War/Land), and various other framed pages from futurist publications make up the rest of the room. The time and consideration put into the design of the original publications reflects the value and esteem such luxury items held at the time, apparent when viewed in a modern context, where an abundance of information sources has reduced quality. I found the inclusion of Blast Magazine II, from 1914, to be a great curational selection. Founded by Wyndham Lewis and Ezra Pound, it offers a contrasting analytical perspective on the era’s innovation in comparison to the Italian futurists, reflecting the alienation and uncertainty of new technologies and inspiring the “vorticism” movement that originated in London. The magazine includes some stunning black and white prints in the geometric, machine like vorticist style, and nicely compliments the mostly text based works in the room.

A large printed photo of Dom Sylvester Houédard greets you on the nearest wall of the second room. He is holding one of his more experimental pieces, “Frog Pond Plop”, a translated haiku by Matsuo Bashō, printed onto a fortune teller, and included in one of the display cases. The photo seems to reflect the softness of the works to come, and the contemplative, spiritual persona of their maker. The most space is given to Houédard’s “Typestracts”, a term coined by poet Edwin Morgan, combining the words ‘Typewriter’ and ‘Abstract’. The abstraction Houédard is able to achieve with a tool as purpose-built as a typewriter is impressive, and must have required planning with serious consideration and compromise for the limitations of the device. As a result, the prints reflect a more modern, complex relationship between man and machine, in comparison to the nascent, ideological observations of technology present in the Futurist works of the first room. While hard to do justice with words, the prints exude subtlety and consideration, combining sparse words with literal or subjective visualisations of their meanings in abstract forms. The uniformity and inherent structure of the typeface used in the compositions plays on and subverts one’s expectancy of direct information from writing and prefabricated symbols, an effect also present in the rest of the concrete poetry in the room, though in a less aggressive way. While not as attention grabbing as the work of Houédard, works from various collections of concrete poetry including the Estorick’s own complete the room. John Furnival’s “Europa and Her Bull”, Paula Claire’s “Animated”, and several works from Ian Hamilton Finlay were some personal favourites. In essence, the second room felt like a much more playful and relaxed continuation of the poetic techniques pioneered by the futurists, with compositions and language much less emphatic in their look.

As well as awarding prominence to the esoteric discipline of concrete poetry, this exhibition reveals a perspective on futurist literature that might usually be overshadowed by its radical ideologies as well as futurism’s more famous contributions to the visual arts. This perspective is undoubtedly a result of expert research and analysis, and a testament to the depth of the Estorick collection and its unique dedication to Italian Art and its impact. With an extensive amount of works not mentioned in this review, and expertly written wall texts that offer great historical insight, the show has potential for many takeaways and subjective points of interest. The curation effectively invites visitors to traverse the two galleries freely and come to their own conclusions, avoiding overbearing narratives, and making for a pleasant, contemplative viewing experience.

Review by Chris Wieland

Featured Image: Carlo-Carra_Atmospheric-Swirls-A-Burning-Shell-1914_Courtesy-Estorick-Collection

Breaking Lines – Futurism and the Origins of Experimental Poetry/Dom Sylvester Houédard and ConcretePoetry in Post-war Britain. 15 January – 11May 2025 Estorick Collection of Modern Italian Art. Visit Estorick Collection for details

Read Chris’s latest Review: Anastasia Samoylova’s ‘Adaptation’ – A visual journey examining the distinction between simulated ideologies and reality – at Saatchi Gallery until 20 Jan 2025 – Abundant Art

Amy Jephta’s ‘A Good House’ is an incisive and satirical exploration of race, class and respectability politics in contemporary South Africa. Presented by the Royal Court in collaboration with the Bristol Old Vic and Johannesburg’s Market Theatre, the production positions Jephta as a crucial voice in the theatrical interrogation of post-apartheid society.

Set within the confines of Stillwater, a gated community emblematic of South Africa’s aspirational middle class, the play begins with the unexpected appearance of a corrugated iron shack on an undeveloped plot. This intrusion rattles the neighbourhood’s flimsy liberal façade, prompting the formation of a Residents’ Association to call for its removal. Sihle (Sifiso Mazibuko) and Bonolo (Mimî M Khayisa), the estate’s only Black residents, are coerced into delivering the eviction notice, a task that highlights the uneasy tensions underpinning their status within this predominantly white space.

Jephta deftly critiques the contradictions inherent in the Black middle class’s pursuit of social mobility, exposing the compromises required for assimilation. Bonolo’s preoccupation with outward symbols of affluence—her prized cheese knife and wine aerator—reveals the fragility of her belonging, while Sihle’s reluctant tolerance of latent racism exposes the emotional toll of their precarious ascent. Surrounding them are their Machiavellian white neighbours: Chris (Scott Sparrow) and Lynette (Olivia Darnley), whose progressive rhetoric conceals deep-seated entitlement and a racialised fear of the outsider, and Jess (Robyn Rainsford) and Andrew (Kai Luke Brummer), a younger couple who awkwardly assert their own unfounded displacement as more significant than Sihle and Bonolo’s.

Under Nancy Medina’s assured direction, the play’s most arresting moments emerge in its use of humour to pierce these social veneers. One such scene sees Sihle and Bonolo retreat into an aside, collapsing into uncontrollable laughter at their Blackness. Their writhing fits leave the audience in a state of disarmed amusement, underscoring Jephta’s sharp critique of performative allyship, where laughter functions both as a release and a weapon against exclusion.

The shack, a stark and enigmatic presence, evokes a Beckettian sensibility. Its evolving design—courtesy of ULTZ’s minimalist yet clever set—gradually humanises the space. As it becomes adorned with bright window frames, a satellite dish, and potted plants, it increasingly mirrors what the neighbours consider home, which amplifies its threat. Resisting straightforward explanation, the shack serves as a symbol of intrusion, fragility and the unspoken tensions beneath the estate’s surface.

The performances are equally compelling. Sifiso Mazibuko’s portrayal of Sihle captures the internal conflict of a man torn between ambition and authenticity, while Mimî M Khayisa imbues Bonolo with a brittle poise that conceals her underlying vulnerability. The white characters, though rendered with less complexity, serve as effective vehicles for examining the hypocrisies of privilege and quotidian racial and neighbourly dynamics.

Jephta’s writing is notable for its dual specificity and universality, rooted in the socio-political realities of South Africa yet resonating with broader questions of belonging and exclusion. The shack becomes a potent metaphor for contested spaces, and A Good House interrogates notions of land ownership, identity and the limits of community.

Review by Florence Marling 

Featured Image: Camilla Greenwell

For information and tickets visit A Good House – Royal Court

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As children, fairy tales whisked us away to magical worlds. Our imaginations ran wild, crafting vivid scenes of princesses and faraway lands. The English National Ballet captures this nostalgia with their breath-taking production of the Nutcracker.

Act I opens with an inviting warmth, gently drawing the audience into Clara’s world through the Stahlbaum family’s Christmas Eve party. The set is adorned with rich hues of red and brown, and a tall Christmas tree gleams behind the dancing guests. A moment of hushed awe sweeps through the audience as Clara’s mother swirls across the stage with an almost ethereal glow, her costume studded with sparkles. The scene’s highlight arrives with Drosselmeyer’s puppet show. The children gather excitedly as two dancers emerge from the puppet stage to perform a duet that is both mesmerising and unconventional, blending the traditional grace of ballet with sharper, more puppet-like movements.

Soon, the celebrations draw to a close and the guests bid farewell, leaving Clara’s family to retire for the night. The audience watches Clara sneak back downstairs to the living room, unable to resist the allure of her gift, the Nutcracker doll. As she sits, the magic begins to unfold. Through a delightful use of lighting, the living room is transformed into a space where reality and imagination blur. Mouse-shaped “shadows” can be seen darting down the banisters and across the tops of bookshelves. The audience watches, spellbound, as a shadow shifts and grows into the ominous figure of the Rat King, who then emerges on stage, as if by magic. Here, Clara’s dream begins…

She suddenly finds herself in the midst of a fierce battle between the now life-sized Nutcracker and the Rat King. The scene is delightfully absurd, drawing laughter out of the audience with its ridiculous, dreamlike chaos. Clara is bombarded by a gang of street mice and a mini nutcracker army. She is soon bustled around the stage to safety by a group of suffragettes, bringing more laughter and adding a fresh, playful edge to the show.

With the audience’s mood at a cheerful peak, the battle scene dissolves and the stage transforms into a silvery, moonlit forest. Clara, now grown, stands cloaked in a veil of white mist with the Nutcracker Prince. A “moon” glows at the back of the stage and resembles a large silver bauble, echoing the playful tone of the battle. Yet, the grandeur of the scene is undeniable, and the audience stills once again, breath taken. Clara and the Prince now showcase a stunning duet, drawing the audience deeper into the splendour of the moment through ethereal twirls and lifts that sweep across the stage. With a flurry of twirling snowflakes, the Ice Queen arrives and the audience is swept into the Dance of the Snowflakes. The dancers seem to float across the stage, creating the illusion of a single, grand snowflake centred by the Ice Queen’s glittering crown.

In a deliciously creative bridge to Act II, the Ice Queen conjures up a glistening ice sleigh, and Clara and The Nutcracker Prince climb aboard, leaving the audience to watch in awe as they are lifted up into the air as the curtain falls.

Act II invites the audience to join Clara in the Land of Sweets and Delights. The set bursts with colour and charm, consisting of a series of intricately painted and brightly coloured sweet-themed tents that evoke the feeling of stepping into an old-fashioned sweet shop. The whimsical atmosphere sets the stage for the Sugar Plum Fairy to present a suite of sweet-themed dances. One by one, Clara samples the delights and the dancers (the “sweets”) take centre stage with stunning, gravity-defying dances. The audiences watches in awe as ‘turron’ emerge from an oversized sweet box and ‘marzipan-zwiebelfloten’ leap across the stage. Among the many standout moments, the sahlab dance captivates with its slow, seductive choreography, while the liquorice allsorts bring a playful energy with their whimsical, brightly coloured costumes. The vibrancy and energy of the scene provide an exciting contrast to the misty splendour of Act I, culminating in the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, a captivating presentation of precise and elegant movement. As the Land of Sweets and Delights fades away, Clara is gently returned to her living room, and the show concludes on a high note, bringing the magical journey full circle, and leaving the audience spellbound.

The English National Ballet’s Nutcracker is truly a night to remember. The adaptation embraces the childlike charm of the story and evokes a warm sense of nostalgia while seamlessly incorporating creative, modern ideas. It is a production that enchants audiences of all ages, capturing the timeless splendour of the story through ornate sets and costumes and its fresh, imaginative flair.

Featured Image: Anna Nevzorova as Ice Queen and English National Ballet dancers in Nutcracker by Aaron S. Watkin and Arielle Smith (c) Johan Persson

Review by Aishani Chatterjee 

Information and tickets : Nutcracker Ballet Tickets | English National Ballet

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Reflective to its drawn-out title, writer and director Chantal Akerman takes advantage of every second of her 201-minute piece to understand the meticulously ordered world of its titular character, Jeanne Dielman. The striking ‘real-time’ performance delivered by Delphine Seyrig is supported by Ackerman’s wide and static shots to disrupt the audience’s expectations of pace and narrative importance as we devote our attention completely to a quiet yet intense unravelling of the everyday life.

Jeanne takes to her routine with a hypnotic precision which is particularly effective through her preparation of food. As we watch her peeling every inch of each a potato, one by one, nothing is left to our imagination. The fixed camera helps employ and restrict our focus as we are unable to escape the frame until she has finished, sometimes even lingering after she leaves. Throughout these sequences the audience experience with Jeanne, the significant emotional weight of time passing. Moreover, her completely expressionless face suggests that this rigorous routine is a distraction from the evident emptiness we see and feel on-screen. Unable to skip a step within these practices creates an almost horror-like quality to her work as we begin to anticipate the potential for something that might slip out of her control.

This air of uneasiness is amplified by the film’s limited dialogue. Eating dinner with her son, Sylvain (Jan Decorte), she shares ‘I added less water than last week. Maybe that’s why it’s better’ which brutally punctuates their unintermitted slurping. Without even a responsive look, these words are left lingering between their placemats with an incredible power, emphasising how painfully repetitive and unrewarding her world is. And so, she must keep to her orderly schedule, wasting no time after her last slurp to clear the table, busy herself in the kitchen and bring out the main course.

She also folds her time as a sex worker seamlessly into her schedule as it is treated with the same lack of sensationalism as making mashed potatoes. The preparation for her guest is deliberate: she calmly removes her apron, set the potatoes to simmer, and receives him at the door. And after he leaves, she is back in the kitchen, impeccably dressed to put the potatoes back on the boil. Once again, the intense regularity is a seemingly desperate attempt to brush over her reality.

Thus, it is almost startling when she is stopped in her tracks by a closed cobbler shop or leaves a café absentmindedly before even sipping her coffee, because her seat is taken. Cracks begin to appear within her assuredness. The previously safe confinement of her home is disrupted too, as her son finally finds his voice but only to draw attention to her malfunctions. Remarking on her forgetfulness and messy hair, the steady pace is jolted and it becomes increasingly difficult for Jeanne to rediscover her rhythm within the comfort of her distraction. Ultimately, this spirals towards an unnerving conclusion which leaves us still uncomfortably lingering in-frame, post-credits and slowly remembering our capacity to get up and go.

Hailed by Le Monde in 1976 as “the first masterpiece of the feminine in the history of cinema” and voted Sight and Sound’s Greatest Film of All Time in 2022—the first such recognition for a film by a female director—Akerman’s work remains a radical statement on time, space, and the overlooked labour of women. It is a film that will persist your mind for new interpretations and understandings weeks after watching. Something completely worth an audience’s investment of time.

Review by Olivia Kiakides 

Featured Image: Jeanne Dielman (1975) Collections Cinematek (c) Fondation Chantal Akerman

Sight and Sound Greatest Film of All Time Critics’ Poll winner 2022

Opening in cinemas across the UK on 7 February 2025 as part of the BFI’s major Chantal Akerman BFI Southbank season running throughout February and March 2025.

BFI Distribution re-releases a 2K restoration of Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles, in UK cinemas on 7 February 2025 coinciding with a (near) complete retrospective season of Chantal Akerman’s films at BFI Southbank throughout February and March.

A UK cinema touring package of further Akerman titles including Je tu il elle (1974), News from Home (1976), Les Rendez-vous d’Anna (1978), Golden Eighties (1986), and La Captive (2000) will also screen at partner venues across the UK, including Ciné Lumière, Institute of Contemporary Arts (ICA) and Glasgow Film Theatre.

For more information visit Chantal Akerman: Adventures in Perception | BFI Southbank

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