MIK SABIERS revels in a band that ploughs an idiosyncratic furrow of expletive laden, guitar-driven alt rock
FOR 18 years, between 1888 and 1906, Paul Cezanne kept returning to the Mont Sainte-Victoire, fascinated by the rugged, bare rock face of this 1,011-metre-tall mountain near his home town of Aix-en-Provence at the foot the southernmost tip of the Alps.
He may not have climbed it once, but in its shadow he did relentlessly reach for a different peak — an ultimate rendition of an infinitely complex visual experience.
“Look at Sainte-Victoire there. How it soars, how imperiously it thirsts for the sun,” he once commented. “For a long time I was quite unable to paint Sainte-Victoire; I had no idea [how] to go about it.”
FIONA O’CONNOR questions the achievement of this year’s Orwell prize winner for political fiction
MIRANDA RICHMOND relishes the gloriously liberated art of Roy Oxlade, and traces his method back to the thinking of David Bomberg, his acknowledged teacher
New releases from Kennedy Administration, Melanie Pain, and Afton Wolfe
JOHN GREEN welcomes a remarkable study of Mozambique’s most renowned contemporary artist


