We are bowled over! 

We knew that theartsdesk.com had plenty of supporters out there – we’ve always had a loyal readership of arts lovers and professionals alike – but the response to our appeal to help us relaunch and reboot has been something else.

Currently on show at the Barbican is a video that makes your hackles rise. Two “savages” are on display in a cage surrounded by punters who happily pay a dollar to pose for photographs with these exotic natives or else to watch them dance. These hideous interactions are being played out in museums in supposedly civilised countries including America, Spain and Australia.

“Do we really need another Anish Kapoor exhibition?” I asked myself on hearing of the Hayward Gallery’s plan to show the sculptor a second time. (He exhibited there in 1998 and has also had major shows at the Royal Academy and Tate Modern along with numerous Lisson Gallery exhibitions, while his Orbit Tower continues to overlook the Olympic Park in Stratford.)

Art should reflect its times, but after a preview week dominated by the controversial participation of Russia and Israel, the 61st Venice Biennale felt in pressing need of distraction and delight. Instead, across 99 national pavilions and 31 “collateral” events, the mood is end of days, from the Bulgarian pavilion’s dispatches from the near future, to Florentina Holzinger’s sewage and nudity extravaganza in the Austrian pavilion. 

Francisco Zurbarán’s The Lamb of God (Agnus Dei), 1640 (main picture), must be the most compelling religious picture ever painted. Visually, it couldn’t be simpler; perhaps that’s why the image nails you to the spot. A lamb lies on a ledge with its feet tied together, awaiting slaughter. Instead of struggling, it remains absolutely still – as though resigned to its fate.

Hidden among rampant foliage, a couple makes out with an urgency transmitted through Cecily Brown’s vigorous brush marks (pictured below right: Couple 2003-4). Their passion seems to have infected the whole woodland scene. The magenta flowers in the foreground are clearly defined, but as one’s eye travels back through the undergrowth, it’s as if feeling takes over from observation. Clarity is swept away by a gestural frenzy of greens and browns punctured by a patch of violet that breaks through the trees like an intense moment of orgasm.

“Welcome” reads a sign hidden behind a metal screen whose spider-web of bars is designed to keep out unwelcome visitors (pictured below: Welcome: Carib, 2005). Through the grille one can see an exhibition of paintings to which, despite the apparently friendly invitation, access is emphatically denied. 

My walk through Hyde Park was an absolute joy. Spring is in the air, the weeping willow is in leaf (pictured below right: photo by S.K), the narcissi are in bloom and the sun was shining, yet the Serpentine Gallery is plunged into darkness.

American photographer Catherine Opie took her first self-portrait at the age of nine with a Kodak instamatic she’d been given for her birthday. There she stands in the garden, a little toughie flexing her biceps like a muscle man.

A brand new sign in a contemporary font (Centra No.2 I am told) signals my arrival at the wooded grounds of Goodwood Art Foundation. This contrast, between cool, clean design and the timeless but perhaps parochial charms of the English countryside makes for a fascinating morning at this recently renamed and revamped sculpture park in rural West Sussex.