April 27 to May 4

Ivana Vollaro


Katja Stuke


Aurelia Mihai

KreisLauf,Video installation, 1999
From the Series : New Times, New Meanings, 2021

Catherine Radosa

Campagne de Paris, paysage triangulaire
Videogram from the long-term film project (2018-2021) on the Triangle of Gonesse (France) – agricultural land threatened with artificialization.

SE Barnet

11° and the suns out
Single channel video – 1’ 17”

Ruth Maclennan

We Can’t Wait

Anne Dubos

Make a wish. Let it happen.

Liza Dimbleby

Postcard from Fernanda Eberstadt, writer, Margès, France
This photo was taken Sunday evening,  April 25 2021, just before curfew. It’s the view from my workroom window in France, the room where I spend 12 hours a day and which I love best in the world.  You see my dog Luna (with the hi-vis orange collar) looking down at the neighbours’ Siamese cat whom she’s longing to chase. The room is east-facing, you’re looking out at old farm buildings—a silk-worm hatchery, a barn, a pheasant-run, the old baths. And beyond the feathery line of trees, the hulk of a giant multinational soft-drink factory.


A year of lockdowns and separation. The second year of the Crown Letter. Instead of a letter from Glasgow I wrote to friends whom I have not seen for months or a year or longer. I asked them to send me an image, a postcard of the view that they looked at most over this past year, and to put a few words, on the back of a postcard so to speak, about the view or about what they were doing or thinking as they looked, day after day. This week I received the first four postcards to Glasgow, all are views from work spaces, from friends of over thirty years: a lawyer in Wales, a mental health worker in Oxford and a writer in France, and one from my sister in Bristol. We have been corresponding throughout the pandemic, but for the first time I can sit, in my mind’s eye, at the place where they work, and look out, for a moment, with their eyes.

Click here to read and see more .

Manuela Morgaine


Assan S. is an artist. Assan is like a brother for me. Assan had an accident and was amputated six months ago. My mother is my mother. My mother is a virus survivor.

Assan makes today his first exhibition at the Invalides, in Paris. In this precise place, his first exhibition since losing his leg. I see him for the first time with his prosthesis, there, at the Invalides. He’s the one supporting my mother, he’s the one missing a leg. This is the best life lesson that I can receive. The sense of Care.