Angus Trumble explores the creative manifestations of radiance.
I didn’t ever meet the American artist Chris Burden but about 20 years ago I wrote to him. I was after the loan of some photographic prints of his most famous performance: he had arranged for a friend to fire a bullet so it would graze his arm.
That principle of equity of access has ever since been a noble aspiration for all public art museums, as it is for us here at the National Portrait Gallery.
Nici Cumpston immerses herself in the collective vision of the National Photographic Portrait Prize 2020.
Last Sunday I had the privilege of appearing at the Canberra Writers’ Festival in conversation with Julia Baird. The subject of our session was Julia’s recent biography, Victoria the Queen: An Intimate Biography of the Woman who Ruled an Empire.
Just in time for Christmas, Angus reflects on the most special present he has ever received.
Angus delves into the biographies of two ambitious characters; Sir Stamford Raffles and Sir John Pope-Hennessy.
In recent years I have become fascinated by the so-called Sydney Cove Medallion (1789), a work of art that bridges the 10,000-mile gap between the newly established penal settlement at Port Jackson and the beating heart of Enlightenment England.
Penelope Grist finds photographer Matt Nettheim re-visiting a formative and fulfilling career tram stop.
The first index I created was for my first book, and, to my astonishment, that was almost twenty-five years ago.
In their own words lead researcher Louise Maher on the novel project that lets the Gallery’s portraits speak for themselves.
Angus's latest Trumbology is accompanied by the following caveat: 'This one is reeeeeeally geeky.'
One of the chief aims of George Stubbs, 1724–1806, the late Judy Egerton’s great 1984–85 exhibition at the Tate Gallery was to provide an eloquent rebuttal to Josiah Wedgwood’s famous remark of 1780: “Noboby suspects Mr Stubs [sic] of painting anything but horses & lions, or dogs & tigers.”
It may seem an odd thing to do at one’s leisure on a beautiful tropical island, but I spent much of my midwinter break a few weeks ago re-reading Bleak House.
Ensconced and meditative in crisp Tasmania, Joanna Gilmour pays tribute to passionate green advocate and photographer Olegas Truchanas.
Joanna Gilmour brings a mindful Douglas Mawson’s perspective to bear on the concept of isolation.