Press 

November 9th, 2025. 7:57pm. Somewhere on the M4.

 

I’m trapped on this coach, fantasising about how much nicer this journey would’ve been on a train. Not enough room for someone who’s 80% leg. A tremendous rain is crashing upon the windows like angry waves against a rickety boat. The windscreen wipers swing and struggle frantically. I’m envious of the person whose cheese and onion crisps I can smell as I finished all my snacks hours ago.

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Without the energy for anything else, I begin to dissociate. A torrent of memories, worries, hopes, and randomness - more insistent than the rain outside - begins to pour over me. I finally manage to hold onto something in this shower of thoughts but am swept away like a person along with their umbrella in a storm. Desperately holding on, because letting go would mean falling back down to the stultifying boredom of this coach journey, I let it carry me all the way. My mind arrives at recollections of installing the shortlist exhibition of The Hari Art Prize 2025 and I realise that my surroundings have undergone a complete transformation despite looking exactly as I left them.

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I did this last year so now I’m doing it again because I’m a creature of extreme habit. I’ve always been most interested in the works of artists fairly early on in their careers. Whether they’re destined for greatness or not, I’m still witnessing the genesis of something. This is the second time The Hari Art Prize has allowed me to take the pulse of an art world due a routine checkup… by none other than me! Curated by Ryan Monro, the set up is the same as last year; the twenty shortlisted artists have their works exhibited in the perfumed lobby of The Hari Hotel for the public to behold. And as I gaze upon this thin yet potent cross-section of artists, I’m left feeling giddy about all the art that’s out there and wistful for all that I won’t get to see.

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Susanne Baumann’s works are similarly driven by the presence of one’s absence. Her paintings feel like random details from some haunting scene. Despite the obvious torment of what’s happening, your brain can’t help but fixate on the oppressive softness of the lighting or the ruffles in some fabric or the way fallen leaves rest against a shoe. Her father’s battle with Alzheimer’s has made melancholia her unshakeable companion as she longs for those facets of him that are no longer or barely there. This sorrow hums like a dirge through the scenes she paints, depicting the remnants of a loved one who’s there, but not in their entirety. Whether physically, mentally, or emotionally. Hence why almost all her paintings are set indoors and heavily feature clothing and fabrics. We occupy spaces and garments like a skin, leaving a palpable mark on them. Interestingly, Susanne inverts Anna Curzon Price’s exploration of the impression the world leaves on us. Shirts, trousers, gloves, shoes, etc, exude the manic urgency in which they were discarded, leaving us to imagine the circumstances of their shedding.

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In Your soul lingers in the folds softly kissed by the rising sun, her submission to the art prize, an empty and unmade bed yearns for its former sleeper. This lamentable still, just like the rest of her works, is rendered with near-photorealistic precision. Through her expressive shading and manipulation of oils, every single fold and crease in the blanket bulges and flows as if something is still underneath. But the tender light of dawn cuts through the gloom with bad tidings. While looking at this, I felt a regret so deep and wide that a ship could be sailed through it.

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‘Exploring grief and loss through art’ at Willesden Gallery                      (@Willesden_Gallery) until 23 Feb

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Ranging from the expected (empty rooms and tears) to the obscure (abstract collage and a voodoo shrine) this group show covers the wide range of ways in which artists deal with grief and loss. Soundtracked by Rosie Strickland’s (@rosiestrickland__) unnerving sonic ambience and featuring a stunning mirror painting by Susanne Baumann (@baumann3736) and an artist addressing sight loss (Kimberley Burrows — @KimberleyBurrowsart) there are some inspired works that transcend the obvious in a show with something for everyone. A wise approach for a gallery set inside a local high street library.

For the second year in a row the RCA student show at the Battersea campus gets my top nod but My God! there’s a lot to see. This year I made a beeline straight for the painting and sculpture floors, but my brief trips through the Design Products and Fashion floors made me think a return trip might be required.

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You can go back and read my 2022 review if you’d like to know more about the campus, because this year I just focussed on trying to find the artists whose names I expect to be seeing a lot more of in the future. Read on and let me know if you agree.

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23 = Susanne Baumann — @baumann3736

From a technical perspective, this contemporary take on a traditional motif might just be the single best painting in the show. Outstanding skill and the framing is captivating. If you’re going to do a mirror painting, make it count.