The Anna Lovely Gallery Open Exhibition 2026

“Wednesday news from Alison Aye, sir. It appears she has finally graced the portals of the Anna Lovely Gallery with her presence. By internet calculations, it is a mere twenty-two minute stroll from Tension Gallery in Penge.”

“Penge, Jeeves? Did you say Penge?”

“The very same, sir. It lies on the trans-Thamesian side of the metropolis. The lady currently works at the gallery there. There are those who boldly maintain that Tension is the premier gallery in all of London.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed, sir. And though the Lovely Gallery is situated but a short pedestrian exercise away from her place of work, it appears she had never previously set foot inside until a couple of days ago.”

“Work, Jeeves?”

“Precisely, sir. A regrettable necessity for some of us.”

“Absolute madness, Jeeves. The mind boggles.”

Henny outside the gallery and Ken Turner’s work in the window. Full disclosure, as they say, but Ken is my frolleague at Tension.

Zips and Drips by Ken Turner.

Happy Valley by Ronnie Hackston

Mary Reading by Linda Crook

Autumnal Hike by Ania Pieniazek

The Paths Home by Janet Harper

Meditative Map by Claire Russell

Meditative Map by Claire Russell

Threads of Inheritance by Eleanor Mildenhall

Ambialet by Mia Cavaliero

Head Space by James O’Hara

Apologies to my Instagram pal, Rod Kitson. When I finally found your work, the place was too packed for photography.

If you require an explanation for Wodehouse, then here’s a not-very-good-one.

Shitty Stitches, Inspired By A Shit Job

I’ve been wanting to document this work for months because it’s important to me, even if the actual stitching is abysmal.

It was inspired by a shit job in a top London art gallery. I worked there on a zero-hours contract for fifteen-ish years.

The staff hierarchy was bloody horrible. They didn’t even try to hide the ‘them-and-us’ mentality. And by that I mean that most of the ‘higher-ups’ considered themselves too god-like to acknowledge the ‘lower-downs’. And by ‘lower-downs’ I mean uniformed staff. And by uniformed staff I mean me. Those *curators were extremely important people. Too important to notice a single other human in a room. Too important to even look at, let alone thank, another human in the room who picks up their dropped pencil and places it back in their hand.

Anyway, at some point a new Superior decided to change the uniform shirt from red to blue. I forget why, but it was a really good reason that totally justified the huge expense and wastefulness. I took the discarded shirts home, where they have fulfilled my red fabric needs for years.

Which brings me to the stitching. It’s the banner I cobbled together for an exhibition I curated at Tension Gallery in July. I had such great plans, but in the end I ran out of time, as per. It took about half an hour to make. You can tell. I love it, though. The quality of the stitching may not be up to scratch, but the artistic intention, which was to include my colleagues’ shirts, remains.

A = Lanny, I = Me, R = Neruma, I = Carl, N = Bev and G = Rose. Each a diamond. I didn’t select them, they just happened to be at the top of the pile.

The ribbon, on which the banner was suspended by safety pins (for speed, obvs) was a gift from Julian and Nigel of the Weavers’ Factory.

*It’s not just the curators I’m talking about, but everyone at the top of the gallery chain, born into financially secure families with the right accents, mostly. This is an ‘UP YOURS’ to them. Also, it turns out that art curation is not rocket science. The people who do it aren’t special, just lucky. I don’t begrudge them (well, maybe a bit), I wish they’d be honest about the nepotism, rather than having ‘I-have-this-job-because-I-worked-harder-than-you-and-I-am-more-intelligent’ tattooed across their foreheads. I'm done doffing my cap to them.

Lord-Sir-Kenneth-Clark's Civilisation

I have spent 19 out of the last 21 days at the day jobs (long days, mind, not short-arsed ones) dreaming of today, a day at home, making art. Now I’m in a stew about not having enough time left to finish my work  for the Barbican Library exhibition next month.

My mad day-jobs frenzy came to head on Saturday with the Preview of an exhibition I’ve been curating at Tension Gallery. It looks great, thanks to quality artwork and installation help from the ever-patient punk legend, Nick Cash*. I’ve never curated a show. I’m knackered, but proud, and grateful to Ken Turner for putting his trust in me. If you are in a position to visit, I’ll be invigilating throughout, and up for a chat. I have nailed this year’s faces (unfinished, obvs) to the wall, as my contribution.

Airing: Tension Fine Art, 135 Maple Road, London SE20. Until 26th June. Fridays and Saturdays 11am - 5pm, closing at 4pm on the final day. Coffee morning 11am, 11th July. Artists’ Talk 2pm, 19th July.

Back to the Barbican. It’s mainly going to be old work, of course, because TIME. However, although I haven’t touched it for a month, I have been spending early mornings and evenings butchering ‘Civilisation’. That’s the book to accompany the ancient TV series by Lord-Sir-Kenneth-Clark, a man born into a wealthy ‘textiles family’ and responsible for my questionable early art education (didn’t include female artists and missed out a huge chunk of non-western culture). Anyway, I’ve never cut up a serviceable book before, due to deeply ingrained ‘respect’ for the printed word. But after seeing Mutant Library (my favourite Tension exhibition) I decided not to give a shit, and crossed the floor. Zero remorse, so far. Turning the pages (along with old Tate/ V&A magazines) into collages with a joyful vengeance. They’re not signed yet, but I’ll add a few images (scroll to end for credits).

I’ll be sharing the space with Kemi Athene Pennicott, but it’s two completely different exhibitions.

Civilisation: Barbican Library, London EC2. 1st - 28th August. Mon, Wed + Fri 9.30am - 5.50pm; Tues + Thurs 9.30am - 7.30pm; Sat 9.30am - 4pm. Check the library website for time changes. I intend to be there every Monday and Saturday, with daily updates on my website/Instagram informing of my whereabouts should you wish to avoid me, or not.

Some other exciting news is that my Exile Textiles will be in a book by Julia Triston. Textile Protest: Artists, Activism and the Historical Power of Cloth in Protest, published by Batsford Books and out on 14th August. It’s ‘thoughtfully illustrated with examples that include heavily embroidered suffragette and trade union banners, the knitted pussyhats of the 2017 Women’s March, protest textiles from the Guerrilla Girls, Pride flags that celebrate the LGBTQ+ community, and the vast variety of textile art in support of the Black Lives Matter movement. It also covers the rich history of fine art textiles with a political theme, such as Judy Chicago’s iconic 1970s installation The Dinner Party, and includes interviews with prominent activist artists that give further insight into the way everyday materials can be repurposed to create arresting political art’. Get me.

Back to the stitching,

A x

* Nick has a very niche touring exhibition (Crash Ride Snare) of drummers’ art. Thing is, most of his artists are over 50. Some youth is required. If you are a young drummer, who is also an artist (or you know someone who fits the bill) give him a shout on his Instagram and tell him I sent you @crash_ride_snare

Page 92. St Augustine, Sandro Botticelli, 1480. Fresco. Ognissanti, Florence. Glove puppet of Judy, Fred Tickner c 1975. Given by the British Puppet and Model Theatre Guild. Cut from V&A Magazine, Summer 2019. Photo V&A*

Page 316. Men setting their watches by the noon gun (lithograph), Gustave Doré. Yoko Ono with Glass Hammer, 1967, from HALF-A-WIND SHOW, Lisson Gallery, London, 1967. Photo by Clay Perry. Cut from Tate ‘Exhibition Highlights 2023-24’.