To rescue Kahlo from the clutches of the corporate art market, we need to acknowledge the overt and covert political dimensions of the work, demands GAVIN O’TOOLE
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Janine gets it off her chest
One of the finest performers on the circuit has written a must-read on her battle against breast cancer
If you can see past the relentless commodification you will be rewarded by enormously powerful work, suggests JENNY MITCHELL
CHRIS SEARLE revels in the one-off collaboration between an American polymath and a British Muslim, and detects the presence of their revolutionary forebear
GORDON PARSONS revels in an ebullient production of Shakespeare’s magical comedy
BRENT CUTLER welcomes a thoughtful analysis of the Erdogan regime, viewed through the evolving history of a neighbourhood in Istanbul
GORDON PARSONS regrets the price, but is dazzled by an outstandingly ambitious study of the way art restoration in particular, and culture in general was weaponised by the Nazis
I MET Janine Booth for the first time when she was 16 on April 16, 1983. I remember the date well because it was the day Brighton reached the FA Cup Final for our first, and so far only, time by beating Sheffield Wednesday 2-1 at Highbury in the semi-final.
Tumour humourist: Janine Booth
She’d come to interview me for her fanzine Blaze at my post-match gig at the Cricklewood Hotel in north-west London and I don’t remember anything about the interview or the gig because, understandably, I was far too pissed. But Janine and I have been great friends ever since.
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