Art in Regent's Park

Frieze London opens for its tenth edition

The Frieze Art Fair returns from New York to London this Thursday, bringing together 175 of the world’s most innovative contemporary art galleries in a bespoke temporary structure erected in Regent’s Park. Exhibitors will come from 35 countries including Argentina, China, Columbia, Hungary, India, Korea and South Africa. Furthermore, this year the Fair includes two exciting (if a little overdue) new sections: Focus and Frieze Masters.

Focus is only open to galleries established after 2001, each of whom are invited to curate up to three artists’ works at the Fair, while Frieze Masters, which will run in parallel with the main festival and require a separate ticket, will present “a contemporary perspective on historical art”. That is to say, for the first time, Frieze will sell old as well as new art.

Over 90 galleries from territories including Spain, Lebanon, Turkey and Brazil will exhibit works “ranging from the ancient era and old masters through to art of the 20th century”, a decision praised by the Guardian’s art critic Jonathan Jones. “Lo and behold,” he writes, “the art world has discovered that time is not flat. We do not occupy an eternal present. There were artists before we were born, and there will be artists after we die … New art is not an orphan: it is the child of history. Frieze Masters will make it easier for everyone to see that.”

Frieze curator Sarah McCrory has commissioned five site-specific pieces for this year’s Fair. One, a structure which explores the “use-value” of art by providing a forum for artists who produce food, chaotic dining events, performances and talks has been created by Lake District-based Grizedale Arts and the Yangjiang Group collection. Another will see a section of Regent’s Park smouldering as a field of incense burns to suggest contemplation and reflection (Joanna Rajkowska), and a recreated crime drama scene by Asli Çavuşoğlu will interrogate the parallels between murder mystery production and the destructive decisions taken when making art.

The Fair will also boast films, talks and a Sculpture Park curated by Clare Lilley, Director of Programme at Yorkshire Sculpture Park, alongside gourmet food, workshops and a Family Space. Although the primary function of the Fair is to sell the works exhibited, most visitors will attend as spectators rather than prospective buyers. In fact, Frieze stopped publishing sales figures in 2006, for this and other reasons. Tickets are limited “to ensure the best experience for all visitors”, but for those not lucky enough to get a ticket, the Sculpture Park is open free to the public.

Frieze London will be in Regent’s Park from 11-14 October.

"The Maids" by Paula Rego, a Frieze Master. Image: Frieze.

Philip Maughan is a freelance writer in Berlin and a former Assistant Editor at the New Statesman.

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Broken and The Trial: From Sean Bean playing a priest to real life lawyers

A surprisingly involving depiction of a clergyman provides the saintly contrast to the sinner being judged by a real jury.

I was all set to scoff at Broken, Jimmy McGovern’s new series for BBC1 (30 May, 9pm). A drama about a Catholic priest and his impoverished parish in a “major northern city”, it sounded so hilariously McGovern-by-numbers (“Eh, lad, give us the collection bowl – the leccy wants paying”) that on paper it could pass for a spoof. Even funnier, Sean Bean, late of Game of Thrones, was to play the clergyman in question.

Naturally, I adore Bean, who comes from the major northern city that is Sheffield, as I do, and who is so terribly . . . virile (though when I interviewed him in a car park behind King’s Cross Station a few years ago, and a security guard in a high-vis jacket approached us furiously shouting the odds, he ran and hid in his trailer, leaving yours truly to face the music). But let’s face it: he’s not exactly versatile, is he? The idea of him in a cassock, or even just a mud-coloured cardigan, made me laugh out loud.

Settling down to watch the series, however, I soon realised that no scoffing would be taking place. For one thing, Broken is hugely involving, its Dickensian plot (no spoilers here) as plausible as it is macabre. For another, in the present circumstances, its script seems to be rather daring. Not only is Father Michael Kerrigan shown – cover my eyes with the collected works of Richard Dawkins! – to be a good and conscientious priest, but his faith is depicted as a fine and useful thing. If he brings his besieged parishioners solace, he is sure to be carrying vouchers for the food bank as well.

The flashbacks from which he suffers – in which his mammy can be heard calling him a “dirty, filthy beast” and a spiteful old priest is seen applying a cane to his hand – are undoubtedly clichéd. But they are also a device. Forty years on, he is happy to nurse his dying mother, and his love for God is undimmed: two facts that are not, of course, unrelated. How weirdly bold for a television series to set its face against the consensus that denigrates all things Christian as it never would any other faith.

I don’t for a minute buy Anna Friel as Christina, the gobby, broke single mother Kerrigan is determined to help. Even when covered in bruises – a bust-up at the betting shop – Friel manages to look glossy, and she never, ever quits acting (with a capital A), which is a drag. But Bean is such a revelation, I was able to ignore the voice in my head which kept insisting that a Catholic priest as young as he is – in this realm, “young” is a couple of years shy of 60 – would surely be Polish or African (I’m not a Catholic but I am married to one, for which reason I occasionally go to Mass).

He plays Kerrigan, whose overwhelming desire to be kind sometimes makes him cack-handed, with great gentleness, but also with an uninflected ordinariness that is completely convincing. Part of the problem (my problem, at least) with Communion is the lack of rhetorical passion in most priests’ voices, something he captures perfectly. One other thing: Line of Duty fans need to know that Adrian Dunbar – aka Ted Hastings – can also be seen here wearing a dog collar, and that he looks almost as good in it as he does in police uniform.

On Channel 4 The Trial: A Murder in the Family was an experiment in the shape of a murder trial in which the defendant – a university lecturer accused of strangling his estranged wife – and all the witnesses were actors but the lawyers and “jury” were real. Over five consecutive nights (21-25 May, 9pm), I found it pretty tiresome listening to jury members tell the camera what they made of this or that bit of evidence.

Get on with it, I thought, longing again for the return of Peter Moffat’s Silk. But I adored the lawyers, particularly the lead ­defence barrister, John Ryder, QC. What an actor. Sentences left his mouth fully formed, as smooth as they were savage, his charm only just veiling his mighty ruthlessness. Drooling at this performance – which was not, in one sense, a performance at all – I found myself thinking that if more priests came over like barristers, our dying churches might be standing room only.

Rachel Cooke trained as a reporter on The Sunday Times. She is now a writer at The Observer. In the 2006 British Press Awards, she was named Interviewer of the Year.

This article first appeared in the 25 May 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Why Islamic State targets Britain

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