Culture

The Guardian had an interesting — and, frankly, terrifying — piece the other day by Nick Coleman, the Independent’s long-serving and shamelessly cerebral rock critic. I used to know Nick slightly: we talked drivel on the same radio show for a while a dozen years ago, and he wrote a piece about my first cricket book, in which he described me as ‘faintly posh and indefatigably sunny’, a combination of words that makes my girlfriend fall about to this day. Actually, I liked him a lot: he has an incredibly dry sense of humour and loves music to his core. And a terrible thing has happened to him. Without warning, or apparent reason, he has lost his hearing in one ear.

Quick Oscar** thought: no American actor or actress won an Oscar this year. The four acting awards went to: Tilda Swinton (Scotland), Javier Bardem (Spain) Daniel Day-Lewis (England/Ireland) and Marion Cotillard (France). Have the Americans ever been shut out like this before? Does it mean anything beyond the fact that the Oscars are an increasingly international event (as, indeed, the Academy becomes an increasingly international event)? Perhaps it's just a small sample size and perhaps it doesn't mean anything at all, but it seems like a pleasing development to me. Still: how long before the Democratic presidential contenders deplore the outsourcing of American acting jobs to foreigners and call for quotas on a) foreigners working in Hollywood, b) foreigners winning Oscars?

Toby Jones on how theatre is being used in Malawi to help stop the spread of Aids The interior designer charged with decorating the IT suite probably didn’t have theatre in mind. I am staring at the pastel carpeting, Venetian blinds and the useless plug dangling from the overhead projector: we could be anywhere. The sex worker casually hands me her baby and takes to the carpet. As I rock the baby to sleep, I watch the mother and several of her sex co-workers acting out the moment a colleague of theirs declared herself HIV-positive. We are sitting in the British Council offices in Lilongwe, Malawi, where we have spent the afternoon singing and improvising with these 15 extraordinary women.

Anyone with a taste for schadenfreude can tune in to BBC1 Question Time tonight, where yours truly will be in Newcastle extolling the virtues of the free market in the home of Northern Rock. Other panellists are Ruth Kelly, Vince Cable and Alan Duncan.

Peter Doig has aroused much passion in recent months for the prices his paintings have started to fetch in the world’s salerooms. For many, he is not only the acceptable face of contemporary British painting, but also a buoyant export and bright international star. Even those who dislike painting and prefer less demanding forms of art such as installation and photography are prepared to make an exception for Doig, perhaps because he is easy on the eye. Ten years ago he enjoyed a fairly prestigious show at the Whitechapel, now he’s been given the main galleries at the Tate’s Millbank branch. The Whitechapel show left me unconvinced of his virtues though I remember liking one or two of the smaller pictures. Now we have the chance to see what all the fuss is about.

Laura Gascoigne follows in the footsteps of the 18th-century Grand Tourist ‘I was much disappointed in seeing Rome,’ complained the English traveller Sarah Bentham in the 1790s. ‘The streets are narrow, dirty and filthy. Even the palaces are a mixture of dirt and finery and intermixed with wretched mean houses. The largest open spaces in Rome are used for the sale of vegetables...’ The widowed stepmother of the philosopher Jeremy Bentham was equally underwhelmed by the Roman Campagna made famous by Claude. The city, she wrote, ‘appeared to be located in a desert’. For the 18th-century traveller in Italy several aspects of the Grand Tour were less than grand, but slumming it was part of the fun. Bentham was unusual in being a woman, and middle-aged.

By Leafy Ways: Early Work by Ivor Abrahams Against Nature: The hybrid forms of modern sculpture Henry Moore Institute, Leeds, until 4 May The Henry Moore Institute is one of our foremost sculptural venues, a focus for study and scholarship, equipped with an impressive library and archive specialising in British sculpture. Opened in 1993 on The Headrow in the centre of Leeds, it is devoted to telling the story of sculpture in Britain, while also taking into account the context of continental modernism. It regularly mounts small, intense and often provocative (in the sense of intellectually challenging) exhibitions.