Art

Late last week, the New York Times once again floated the idea that President Trump could become the fifth head on Mount Rushmore, to the right of Abraham Lincoln (that’s for sure). He’d be like the fifth Beatle, but yuge. While it’s true that Trump has brought peace to Africa and the Middle East in the last week, and has done an excellent job lining the Oval Office with gold filigree, maybe we should hold off on carving his visage into a mountainside until we see the final fate of the Big, Beautiful Bill. For Trump’s a jolly good fellow, and what nobody can also deny is that there’s available rock space in South Dakota. The President likes nothing more than a good real-estate deal on undeveloped land. But let’s hold off on clearing headspace for the Donald just yet.

Figures emerge like ghosts from Antonia Showering’s canvases, their sketchy lines and expressionistic color palette relaying an atmosphere of deeply personal narrative as much as an emotional message, wordless but with universal resonance. Take 2025's "The Waiting Room" (2025), from her current show, titled In Line, at Timothy Taylor: A woman, resting on a bed in a pool of maroon, has just given birth; her belly appears aglow in a warm yellow as her newborn, outlined in pale purple, rests next to her, umbilical cord still attached. “I wanted to talk about the vulnerability about someone postpartum,” says the artist. The hues she’s employed are bodily, those of flesh, fat, and veins, yet here transcend into a surreal haze of life’s first moments. Antonia Showering, 5L (2024).

When passions are aroused, all of us are liable to overstate our case. Dan Hicks, a curator at Oxford’s extraordinary Aladdin’s Cave of anthropology, the Pitt-Rivers Museum, is perhaps a case in point. A Swedish academic, Staffan Lunden, has convincingly argued that Hicks is guilty of "distortion" when writing about the British raid on Benin in 1897, which brought several thousand objects, including finely wrought brass statuettes, to museums across the world. Hicks published his uncompromising views in 2020 in a prize-winning book, The Brutish Museums: The Benin Bronzes, Colonial Violence and Cultural Restitution.

Christie’s is making digital-art history again – or at least trying to. Between 20 February and 5 March, it is hosting Augmented Intelligence, the first major auction dedicated solely to AI-generated art. This follows a series of headline-grabbing stunts, including the first major sale of an AI-generated artwork in 2018 – ‘Portrait of Edmond de Belamy’ ($432,500) by the Paris-based collective Obvious – and the first NFT sale by a major auction house,  Beeple’s ‘Everydays: The First 5,000 Days’, which shattered expectations (and good taste) by selling for $69 million in 2021.

Jet lagged, frozen, wrapped in multiple layers against the polar winds of a New York January storm, it was a thrill to walk into a gallery space full of sun-drenched summer scenes. At first glance, these are beautiful paintings of beautiful young people on beaches, but look again and you realize they are a meditation on the fragility of body image and how illusory perfection is. This is a topic Emil Sands is uniquely qualified to portray — more on that later. But first, the paintings: a longer look reveals that the beaches are serving as stage sets and mindscapes for an exploration of vulnerability and exposure — an experience intrinsically tied to the act of sharing space with other near-naked bodies.