© 2011 Sanja Iveković

Glamour and domestic violence are worlds apart. That, at least, is what I thought before seeing the exhibition Sweet Violence by artist Sanja Iveković on show at the MoMA until March 26.

The exhibition starts with a bang. Or rather with a very tall sculpture of the

– Luxemburg’s national symbol, with one detail you can’t overlook: the represented woman is heavily pregnant. What’s so radical about that? If you think about famous sculptures of females, can you think of a single one which is pregnant? Let me know if you do because after racking my brains out for half an hour – I couldn’t. The work’s perceived ‘sacrilegious’ nature might have also had something to do with the words ‘WHORE, BITCH, MADONNA, VIRGIN’ inscribed on its base: an always useful reminder of the polar opposite perceptions of women still in existence today.

While this work was fascinating, some of the issues it raised seemed at least as far removed from daily life as the pedestal on which Lady Rosa was standing.

And then came a work that shook my casual afternoon visit: Women’s House (Sunglasses), 2002-2009. A series of 12 black-and-white posters on which female models are advertising sunglasses (by D&G, Gucci, Prada, Armani, Calvin Klein) have been appropriated by the artist for a rather different purpose. Namely, to tell the stories of 12 women in shelters.

Each story is different as is the age and nationality yet violence, betrayal and humiliation are present in all of them. Mihaela was beaten and made to kiss her husband’s friends’ boots while being called a Serbian whore by his Muslim friends; she spent 12 days in a hospital before deciding to leave him and all of this was happening against the backdrop of the war in Yugoslavia in the ‘90s.

If you have already sensed what the link between the glamorous model whose image the artist is using and the real Mihaela then you are quicker than I was when I first saw the images.

It’s the sunglasses. In the work of Sanja they cease to be the finishing touch in a perfect ensemble and  become the ill-functioning camouflage of abuse. No glasses are big enough or dark enough to conceal a black eye and it takes one concerned gaze to shatter the veneer of being well put together.

How many of us create such a veneer through the careful or not-so-careful use of make-up was the topic of another poignant work included here: Make Up, Make Down. In another, pre- YouTube Makeup guru, video installation Sanja was laying bare what many of us work hard to conceal: dark circles, undereye bags, wrinkles, saggy skin. Seeing Sanja confidenly draw lines on her face made my ongoing search for the perfect undereye concealer seem even more doomed. Easy to blend, offers full-coverage yet looks natural, doesn’t settle in fine lines and wrinkles and stays put all day. Drop me a line if you have used such a miracle-worker as I am about to lose all hope.

A shortened version of this article appeared on www.sexyfeminist.com. You can view it by clicking here

Leonardo – Painter at the Court of Milan

Where do we draw the line between practical items and art objects? Who decides whether something is kitsch, offensive, useful, beautiful or aesthetically valuable? Is it a great signifier of human advancement that we are so enmeshed with this world of ‘stuff’ or is it our weakness? How do we rationalise the preservation of objects in an age where physical matter can be replaced with digital reproductions?

At a time when many museums are having to re-evaluate the worth and relevance of their physical collections it seems more vital than ever that visitors can truly engage with them. Understanding and appreciating the value of objects is key to justifying their continued preservation and evolution. What is surprising, however, is how an afternoon amongst the most ordinary of objects can go so far in raising, and helping answer, these questions whilst reasserting the extraordinary power of ‘things’.

I arrived at the Museum der Dinge without really knowing I had arrived. The building looked more like an apartment block than a state-funded museum. Inside, however, was an extraordinary presentation of 20^th century material culture and design.

Visitors enter a nondescript front door and, a couple of staircases later, are presented with a compact and ordered display space that is at once unfussy and cleverly thought-out. The contrast between this discreet and curious space was refreshingly distant from Berlin’s main cultural zone of Museum Island.

The museum is formed of a maze of cases offering a cross-section of everything and anything related to the everyday life and culture of the twentieth century: technology, leisure, communications, photography, games, cosmetics, medicine, sex, politics, design, arts and crafts, mass-production.

Little is offered by way of labelling or prescribed information. There is no given ‘route’ through the permanent collection and visitors are free to pass from hand-made children’s toys to anatomical models, from kitsch souvenirs to samples of iconic furniture.

The museum prescribes to its own form of display referred to as ‘open storage’. This allows sample collections to be formed by the curators, creating links between differing objects and allowing contrasts to be made, encouraging enquiry and wonder. This is realised by housing the collection in rows of tall cabinets that appear ordered only by loose themes: colour, material, function, era, style, subject.

A shelf of artificial limbs, glasses, and gaudy sex-aids may be placed next to a collection of objects with nothing more in common than colour or material, alongside a plethora of advertising figurines and kitchenalia. The traditional division and taxonomy of artist/designer, movement, location, time, is escaped completely. This is partially the result of the content itself, which requires a different treatment, but also because the aims of the staff clearly extend beyond merely ‘showing’ the items.

Rather than seeming jarring or messy, this helps the collection as a whole make sense and the resulting juxtapositions are ingenious and thought-provoking.

Alongside the free arrangement of this main display is a changing exhibition space covering more specific topics, from individual Bauhaus students to artist interpretations of the collection. Visitors are able to examine objects within a more self-contained theme as well as having the opportunity to discuss individual items with the museum’s team of ‘Thing-Interpreters’.

This mode of display also acknowledges the eccentric museum tradition from which it stems. Numerous early collectors were concerned with representing the world and ourselves in microcosm through the gathering of tangible artefacts. This notion seems particularly significant when considered alongside the collection on display here: there are surely few things that so clearly represent the modern age as consumption, as material possessions and mass production. This array of ‘things’ then can be seen as a slice, a striking, ugly, humorous, absorbing slice, of our lives and our recent past told through physical objects. What is on show is a celebration, a joyous collection of ‘our’ things, of design and creation as well as a glance into a numbingly consumerist world.

Smaller-scale museums often offer something quite distinct from their larger counterparts and the Museum der Dinge really takes advantage of this. There is an atmosphere of curiosity, a feeling of viewing a life lived through objects that feels genuinely relevant in a city that has such a clear love-affair with ‘things’ and a proud history of functional design.

You may not come face-to-face with a Caspar David Friedrich or a Kandinsky by visiting the Museum der Dinge but the everyday things around you might not seem the same afterwards.

If you live in London and are even vaguely interested in art chances are you would have heard about the Leonardo exhibition at the National Gallery. Said to be ‘the most complete display of Leonardo’s surviving drawings’ it’s been making headlines for all the wrong reasons. First, advance tickets sold out. Then people started queuing to buy a ticket from 7 in the morning.  And now it’s been reported that tickets are being sold for prices around £400, believe it or not. Not only that but the people prepared to pay such sums won’t be able to get in after all after the Gallery announced tickets cannot be re-sold and will be suspended.

All of this hype is partly created by the claims of the Gallery who also decided to reduce the number of people allowed in the Gallery at any one point. And of course part of this interest is stirred by the canonical place Leonardo has not just in art history but in popular culture as well.

So why am I advising you not to bother going? Don’t get me wrong – I have a long history with the National Gallery. I wrote my dissertation on one of their paintings and enjoyed the benefits of their archive. Yet today I am reminded of the reasons why so many museums in the UK face declining numbers of British if not overseas visitors and a declining number of young people going to their exhibitions. They promote an air of exclusiveness, elitism which ultimately restricts the number of people wanting to go.

And these days no other major museum in London fits that bill more closely than the NG. Let’s look at the facts: with tickets costing a whopping £16 it’s clear who can benefit from a close proximity with Leonardo.

Instead of wasting hours on a queue, don’t bother. Go to any library and read Vasari’s Lives of the Artists. Then maybe read Hans Belting’s The Invisible Masterpiece to find out the roots of Leonardo-mania.

Alternatively don’t take my word for it: after all, I haven’t even seen the exhibition because, at least, the National Gallery are consistent in their approach. The same restrictiveness they apply to the general public, they also apply to eager young journalists wanting to go.

© David Parry PA

London, Sugar and Slavery aims to shed light on how the Trans-Atlantic slave trade and sugar production in 16-19  centuries, played a key role in making Britain an empire and London – an economic force. In some ways the Docklands Museum which houses it, is the perfect location for such a display. The building was originally used as a sugar warehouse and as such was a physical part of the slave trade.

Since the Museum of London Docklands is a traditional museum, however, there was an inherent limit to how provocative and political an exhibition about slavery staged here could be.

London, Sugar and Slavery was developed chronologically – starting with the first settlers of African descent who arrived in London before the 1500s and formally ending with the Slavery Abolition Act from 1833. ‘Formally’ because there is also a  panel, included at the end, about the conditions in which people of African descent lived in the British capital in the ‘50s and ‘60s.

The exhibition was easy to follow and it managed to introduce new issues gradually. In this way it served as a very good introduction to anyone who wants to find out about slavery in this country but has little prior knowledge and doesn’t know where to start. Interactive screens, panels, reprinted original texts and paintings made the included material (some 140 objects in total) varied and attractive to engage with. The Museum’s determination to produce not simply a historical investigation but an engaging, modern take on the emergence of the slave trade and its impact on the colonial economy was evident. Before the exhibition was opened to the public in 2007 the Museum brought in a group of young Londoners to engage and reflect on the capital’s troubled past and their opinions are included at various points throughout the exhibition.

Some of the best aspects of this exhibition were to be found in these people’s reactions. The strongest comment came from a man of African descent named here ‘Junior’. A black and white photograph of the man shows the young man looking down, his face turned to his left. A red teardrop with the image of a young female slave is dangling from his right eye. The accompanying text elaborates: we have not gotten over slavery, we still dwell on it.

Unfortunately this strong message was tucked away in a corner, next to the mobility lift at the end of the gallery, when it should have been given a central place. After seeing the image and reading the accompanying text, I was left wondering were these the words of the young man or the curator?

The poignant message, with its double meaning, was in a stark contrast to a prominent panel next to it, presenting a sweetened take on the contemporary repercussions of slavery. To make the topic more palatable the exhibition organisers felt the need to end on a positive note. Thanks  to the slave trade, it was argued, Londoners can now enjoy ethnic cuisine, music and fashion which weave together different cultures.

The message here was clear: racism is now a thing of the past that we, completely unconnected to such a past, can examine it with detachment and curiosity much like one studies a long-gone civilisation. When I read the following paragraph I started wondering if the people who had done the display and I were living in the same London:

London was not always a welcoming place: many new arrivals were forced to live in the city’s poorest housing and take badly paid jobs. They often faced explicit racism.

The funny thing was, the time period this refers to was ‘50s and ‘60s of the twentieth century. Clearly, the curators have never visited Brixton, Peckham, Dalston or Haringey and are blissfully oblivious of how ‘newcomers’ often live.

Other topics – such as human trafficking today and the involvement of women in the abolitionist movement, were only mentioned in passing. Had they been given more prominence, this exhibition could have been groundbreaking. As it is, London, Sugar and Slavery only marked some of the points on a contentious terrain and was happy to let sleeping dogs lie.

Free exhibition. To visit the museum website click here.

The date is the 13th of October, the location – Central London. I am headed to Regent’s Park for the opening of one of the biggest annual art fairs: Frieze Art Fair. Before I get closer to the park I expect to see massive signs but there are none in sight. Then notice a line of identical BMWs and I now know I am close to the entrance.

There are no crowds outside but at least 20 security guards. One of them stops me and asks me if I have a pass. I explain that I am about to get it.

A long corridor leads to the main event. At regular intervals are different registration desks. The biggest among those is the VIP one. The one for press is quite small and the attention of the two women behind it is already directed at the young man who claims to be a journalist but has no ID. His entry is denied.

I enter the main part of the fair – the exhibition room which is a temporary tent-like structure and this year houses 173 galleries from 33 countries under one roof. London and New York have highest number of galleries: 36 and 30 respectively which should come as no surprise. Frieze is comprised of Frieze Art Fair, Frieze magazine and Frieze foundation. This year is the ninth instalment of the fair and as of next year it will also be taking place in New York. In this aspect Frieze is following in the footsteps of Art Basel which also runs in Miami.

Every year a jury comprised of gallerists selects the final participants in the fair after a few months earlier galleries around the world have applied for participation. Some of the participations are no surprise to anyone like Gagosian Gallery, for example, which has three offices in New York, two in London as well as offices in Paris, Rome, Beverley Hills, San Diego, Hong Kong, Athens and Geneva.

Despite their reputable standing, Gagosian recently found themselves in the middle of a very humiliating scandal after it emerged that Bob Dylan had used photos available on the Internet to create his The Asia Series sold through Gagosian. Before this became public knowledge the paintings were claimed to have been a reflection of Dylan’s direct experiences and observations during his travels there.

To balance the strong participation of well-established galleries, Frieze have also created a separate part of the event – Frame, open to galleries which have been in existence for under six years.

If you are wondering whether among this year’s list was a Bulgarian gallery the answer is no. However, there were two works by Bulgarian-born Christo Yavasheff – Christo represented by Annely Juda Gallery in London. Simultaneously, Annely Juda Fine Art were holding an exhibition of Christo’s works entitled 40 years, 12 exhibitions which shows his past, unrealised and current projects. His current projects are Mastaba Project for the United Arab Emirates and Over the River – Project for Arkansas River and for Frieze the gallery had selected two drawings for these two projects. It is precisely through the sale of preparatory drawings that Christo will be able to realise the projects.

The main goal of the fair – as the name suggest, is the selling of art. I am reminded of this on Frieze’s website which urges its visitors (over 60 000) to maintain a behaviour which allows participating galleries to conduct business. To the same end, perhaps, journalists are prohibited from bringing in ‘bulky’ equipment. It’s clear that despite the good revenue which the sale of tickets must bring (a one-day ticket costs £27), such revenue is negligible compared to the sums of money for which art sells here.

Depending on what kind of role one has in the art world, the word ‘sale’ when applied to art can be considered dirty. I remember the first time I went into an auction house and saw price labels attached to sculptures and paintings. It took me a while to adjust.

On entering Frieze I was given a new turn. In front of me was a yacht. Not a model or a drawing of one but an actual luxury 10-metre long yacht, Aquariva Cento. On one side was a TV showing commercials for the same boat and in front was a sales consultant. I started wondering if Frieze had entered the yacht business. It turned out I was not far from the truth. The German artist Christian Jankowski and Ferretti Group, who manufacture the boats, had joined forces for this project. If someone wishes to purchase this yacht as a work of art they can do so for the sum of 650 000 euros. If they prefer to buy it as a yacht – then the price tag is half a million. What makes one a work of art and the other – a ‘simple’ yacht? A certificate by the artist.

But this yacht is mere pennies compared to Jankowski’s other work – a 68-metre long yacht which cost 75 million euros as a work of art or 60 million – as a yacht. In the exhibition catalogue the two are marked as The Finest Art on Water but if they are sold separately one will be named Christian and the other – Jankowski.

A critique of the over-commercialisation of art, a reference to the Venice Biennale and the yachts of the mega-rich collectors or a clever way to make money? Everyone can find an answer for themselves or redefine the question. What one can’t deny is Jankowski’s idea is testing the waters. Whether his idea will sink or float – only time will tell.

To realise his idea Jankowski needs a buyer who hasn’t turned up yet despite the optimism of the creators of the yacht who, paradoxically, hope that it sells as art. Will The Finest Art on Water sell? The artist is optimistic. His logic is that rich people don’t buy second-hand yachts. That means that in time when they want to rid themselves of a yacht (for whatever reasons) it will be unsellable. As art, according to that logic, its price could increase depending on how Jankowski’s career develops. Perhaps this is why the yachts bear his name.

If a buyer does turns up then Jankowski’s project will acquire new dimensions and will change from being a sculpture to being a performance work in which central place is allocated to the buyer. Then the buyer will become a co-author since without his decision (which also has a financial aspect) that the yacht is a work of art, the yacht remains just a yacht, albeit a very expensive one.

This is one explanation of the situation.

Another work – by Elmgreen & Dragset, represented by Victoria Miro Gallery, led me to a different possible explanation. It’s called The Fruit of Knowledge and features a 180-cm long chimpanzee, propped on 10 hefty books among which The Bible and Art Now, reaching for a banana. An ironic commentary about the public at the fair or maybe some artists here were making monkeys out of us? There was evidence for both.

The audience was very impressed by the mirror surface of some of the works here. Convex Mirror and Concave Mirror by Anish Kapoor, represented by Lisson Gallery were very popular as well as Ivan Navarro’s installation who was represented by Paul Kasmin Gallery. Through the clever use of mirrors, plexiglass, neon lights and electric current his work multiplied the image of the viewer standing in front of it. This effect was irresistible to many.

While some were looking at themselves I decided to have a look around. The space of the fair was filled with people. The organisers had created three areas where one could escape if not the noise at least the crowds: a VIP area, a family zone and a Press room. What lay behind the VIP entrance I could only guess: five men and women were guarding the entrance. The family zone was almost empty and the press room was so small that with 6 people inside it felt packed. Judging by the size of the different areas one could conclude that the journalists were the least important. And this is largely true. The really important people here are the collectors.

I thought it was time for me to have a look at the Sculptural part of the exhibition which was free and located in the park. My gaze was caught by a giant (11.8metre-long) metal sculpture of a rose with four flowers. It was created by Will Ryman, represented by Paul Kasmin Gallery. The rose, entitled Icon, was simultaneously in contrast and in harmony with its surroundings. The red colour was even stronger on the green background and the disproportionately big rose was bigger than some of the nearby trees. A few metres away from the rose was another sight which caught my eye. A man in rags was lying on the grass. At first I thought this might be a performance work but the poor state in which the man was looked too genuine to have been staged. If it were a performance, I reasoned, then there would have been a crowd of people. Instead, the art lovers were chatting away in front of nearby works, the photographers were taking photos and the BMWs were heading in a different direction.

The question who is the highest paid artists at this year’s fair is of interest to many but the exact prices of the most expensive works remain a secret. We do know that the artist in question is Gerhard Richter, represented by Marion Goodman Gallery, who currently has an exhibition at Tate Modern. His most expensive work is thought to be Strip 2011 – a digital print based on an earlier abstract work of his.

Many thought that the most disturbing work is Crush, 2011 by Romanian artist Andra Usutra which is a cast of the artist’s body. One of the things which made the work particularly horrifying is that the body looks like an emaciated corpse with shrivelled skin. Despite the graphic nature of this work I found another installation to be even more chilling.

Untitled 2011 by Elmgreen and Dragset recreated the space of a morgue. One of the metal compartments was open and on the surgical table coming out of it lay the corpse of a white woman whose entire body was covered by a white sheet except for her feet. In a plastic bag next to her were her belongings: black Prada shoes on high heels, a pearl necklace, a wedding ring, a red nail polish and a Blackberry. In a different environment I doubt the effect would have been as strong but at Frieze which was bustling with women with similar expensive accessories I wondered what did they think? Devoid of clues as to the woman’s death, the installation invited a wealth of speculations. The white sheet in particular seemed to serve as a screen onto which one could project one’s own worst fears and see them played out.

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I am in Bulgaria at the moment where presidential elections are in full swing. After the first round provided no definitive winner, a second round will be held this weekend.

Since at least the early 1990s it has been customary to speak to ”the young” and see what they think about the political, economical, educational or cultural situation in Bulgaria. The reasoning behind this interest follows a simple logic: if the young are positive about their future, then things are OK. If they are not – then something seriously wrong is going on. The current political developments providing a useful backdrop, I sat down with a young Bulgarian artist to talk about his views, opinions, plans and desires. His name is Ivan Dimitrov. He is a 23 and currently doing a Master’s degree in ceramics at The National Academy of Art Sofia. He is the only one on his course.

Petya: Hi, Ivo. Let’s start with your education. Tell me a bit more about what you have studied.

Ivo: I graduated from Ilya Petrov art school specialising in graphics. I then applied to the National Arts Academy Sofia (NAAS) to study ceramics. I got accepted and I am now doing a Masters. I don’t regret anything even though I have reason to.

P: If you had to apply again – would you still choose the NAA?

I: Now? It has never been easier to get accepted in my ‘dear’ university. The number of candidates applying is lower than the number of places available so there is no competition let alone a common basic artistic level. All sort of people come to apply. They lack preparation, artistic education and the ability to be their own critics. I am not saying there aren’t any nice and talented people but those who are, are less likely to apply to the NAAS. The majority head for foreign universities and so the situation is very bad. Still, I chose to apply for a MA course there and I believe that by doing this I am, in a small way, helping Bulgarian art and education and I think someone has to decide to sort out the mess created in the last 60 years or so.

P: Speaking of the communist period, a museum of socialist art opened recently. Have you had a chance to see it yet?

I: No, I haven’t. Maybe there are interesting things to see there but it will have to wait for the time being.

P: What do you think of socialist art and the art created in that period?

I: I am glad it exists, it’s amusing. I respect a lot of the artists who worked at the time. I really like the monumental, rough treatment of the form, I think it’s got a charm. I wasn’t born in that era so I don’t really understand the psychology of the time. I am just a spectator.

P: Do you have a favourite museum in Sofia?

I: Yes, the ones that haven’t been discovered.

P: When you tell people you have graduated from the Academy – how do they react?

I: People who are not specialists are curious, they want to know how and why we do things, especially ceramics.

P: What are your plans after you complete the MA?

I: Well – there are two plans! I will either be doing art or killing myself! Ha!

P: Are you tempted by the possibility to immigrate?

I: No, I am not tempted in the slightest! I have been to several other countries and their museums but the only thing that impressed me was their modern sleek toilets! We don’t have those.

P: I recently spoke to a curator of a large museum in Sofia who said that there are more opportunities for young and talented people in Bulgaria than there people who can take advantage of those opportunities. Would you agree?

I: Young, mediocre people.

P: Where do you see yourself in 5 years’ time?

I: In hell!

P: And in ten?

I: In heaven!

P: Is there a contemporary artist whose work you really like?

I: There isn’t a specific artist I like but from time to time I see works which inspire me.

P: What about an artist who is not contemporary?

I: I respect their work.

P: Tell me about the last project you worked on?

I: The last thing I did was a work for my dissertation. I think something really interesting was created. I am resting now and in a month’s time there will a lot of clay molding.

P: If you had an unlimited budget – what work would you like to create?

I: I will buy tons of clay. I will spread it on a square. Thousands of naked people would be able to do whatever they want on it and I will throw all my money at them. I will bake what’s left [of the clay] and hang it somewhere and I will be happy. And then I will live penniless on the street until I get run over by a tram. Ha.

Check out my new short video on YouTube which takes you on a brief tour of the two best exhibitions in Madrid I saw in September!

I’d love to read your comments and suggestions!

I hope you enjoy it!

Petya

by Katharine E. Evans

Moving back to a small town in Wales from London I soon missed one of the joys of living in a big city: the abundance of great art. But what if you don’t live in an urban area? Or don’t live close to a big city like London? For an ever-changing list of exhibitions and a wider choice of artists the art market is where you should turn to! In Wales, the commercial galleries are not the alternative option but the destination.

Commercial galleries make their money through the art they exhibit, and contemporary galleries are always looking for new artists meaning they are often the best place to find new and contemporary art. Blockbuster exhibitions are wonderful but are costly, and need to make money, so stay open for long periods of time. Commercial galleries cannot do this; new exhibitions and new artists mean renewed interest in your gallery, which in turn generates income.  Wales has often been thought of as an un-artistic country, with Ceri Richards or Sir Kyffin Williams as the exception and not the rule. However, a trip around one of these Welsh galleries proves that this is certainly not the case!

TheMartin Tinney Gallery has the reputation as the place to go in Wales and does house a varied and impressive collection of Welsh Art. The gallery not only houses the modern and contemporary, it generally has an Augustus John or a Gwen John on display too. Both are Welsh-born artists who eventually found artistic recognition outside the country. Gwen John notably, spent most of her life in France and was in Rodin’s circle! Other artists found there include some of my favourite Welsh artists: Karel Lek, Josef Herman and Kevin Sinnott.

Cardiff also houses one of the longest-running galleries in Wales: the Albany Gallery.  Set over a number of floors, it could be described as a cosier version of a contemporary art gallery. If you have never been to a commercial gallery before, this might be the best one to start with as it has a less oppressive atmosphere than other spaces, which have a white cube-esque feel. It has built its reputation on the sale of Sir Kyffin Williams’ work, but that is not the only string to its bow. Ceri Auckland Davis is certainly one of the best artists to view here, alongside Karl Davies and Rob Piercy who are currently on show.

Fountain Fine Art, Llandeilo is located in the picturesque Towy Valley, but the art found inside is certainly not insipid views of the surrounding countryside! An upcoming exhibition, of Mike Jones’s work illustrates this; whose work draws on the idea of the Welsh figure. Similar to the Martin Tinney Gallery, whilst maintaining a regular rota of solo and twin exhibitions, throughout the year there are always examples of other Welsh artists such as Gareth Thomas and Andrew Douglas – Forbes.

That’s not to say that the public galleries of Wales are not worth a visit –the gallery at the National Library of Wales has excellent examples of Welsh Art. However in Aberystwyth it is a little bit out of the way! Other good commercial galleries include Denise Yapp Contemporary Artin Monmouthshire, which is worth the trip for the surrounding area alone as it’s not too far from Tintern Abbey and the Harbour Lights Gallery in Porthgain, Pembrokeshire! Understandably going to these galleries can be an intimidating prospect, and whilst I wouldn’t recommend large groups or school trips you should remember once inside no one knows you from Adam! Although you might have to ring a bell to be let in, once you are inside you are free to peruse the art to your hearts content!!