Culture

Giulio Cesare was the first of Handel’s operas to return to general favour after more than a century and a half of neglect, and I suppose that it is still the most frequently performed. That isn’t surprising, since its plot is, by Handelian standards, simplicity itself, and the level of inspiration in the arias is astonishingly high. There is a problem with it, at least in the UK at the moment, and that is that David McVicar’s Glyndebourne production of 2005 has been so widely and wildly acclaimed, and distributed, that new productions are bound to be seen in its shadow.

Perfect for Friday evening is this: the Gordon Brown-themed version of Ko-Ko's ‘little list’ from The Mikado that Jeff Randall wrote for us back in 2007. The chorus should be sung, according to Jeff, by three people who have been quite prominent this week: Ed Miliband, Ed Balls and Yvette Cooper... The clunking fist, Jeff Randall, The Spectator, 3 March 2007 Britain doesn’t do Lord High Executioners, but if it did, Gordon Brown would probably be the best in the world. The prospect of the Chancellor in this role occurred to me while listening again to Gilbert & Sullivan’s masterful satire, The Mikado. Ko-Ko makes his entrance with ‘a little list’ of those who are for the chop. Among the joys of W.S.

As cuts in government funding begin to bite, the innovative Tricycle Theatre in Kilburn finds itself short of £350,000 a year, and its long-serving artistic director, Nicolas Kent, is standing down as a result. Into the breach has stepped 89-year-old philanthropist and Tricycle devotee Al Weil. He is donating 37 paintings (including ‘The Gulf of Salerno’, above) by an artist he has collected since the 1960s, the distinguished Victorian watercolourist Hercules Brabazon Brabazon (1821–1906). Brabazon was a man of means who didn’t have to sell his work to survive, but nevertheless created a body of paintings and drawings of rare sensibility.

The last major show of paintings by Edward Burra (1905–76) was at the Hayward Gallery in 1985 and I remember visiting it with a painter friend who was rather critical of what she called Burra’s woodenness and lack of movement. At the time, I was impressed by her criticisms, but now they rather seem to miss the point. Burra made highly stylised images of people (often actually in movement) which are mostly about the darker side of humanity and the ways in which we distract and amuse ourselves in the face of despair.

The business of cartooning is in a pretty perilous state now that we have lost the captain of the ship. Ronald Searle was a cartoonist who could also draw — a rare thing. After the war, he became famous for a series of drawings he did for 'Lilliput' called St Trinian's. The girls Searle created did the most appalling things to each other and to their teachers. But it wasn't really about school-children. Searle was in fact using St Trinian's as a way of exorcising the horrors he encountered whilst a prisoner of the Japanese, building railways in a chain gang. After the success of St Trinian's, he ran away from England to rid himself of the naughty school girl tag and became famous for his documentary drawings.

For those seeking refuge from the Olympics, Andrew Lambirth picks out the exhibition highlights of 2012: Freud, Hockney, Turner, Zoffany, Lely, Picasso... In the coming year, when the country will be besieged by all things Olympic, and many people of taste and discernment will (I am assured) be fleeing to spots less barbarous and sports-obsessed, there will still be a lifeline of art exhibitions to refresh those parts that physical activities cannot reach. Focusing on English artists, the main attractions will be shows dedicated to Lucian Freud (at the National Portrait Gallery), David Hockney (at the Royal Academy) and Damien Hirst (at Tate Modern).