See the masterpieces before they go under the auctioneer’s hammer at Christies

THE AUCTION HOUSE Christies was founded in London in 1766 by James Christie (1730-1803). Their main premises are on King Street, near St James Palace in the City of Westminster. Usually, the auction house is open to the public, who may enter and view the items waiting to be auctioned, and to watch or participate in an auction. Until 12 March 2026, works from the collection of the Belgian couple Roger and Josette Vanthournout, both now deceased, are up for sale. The sale is being held as a series of auctions over a period that extended from 25 February 2026 until 12 March 2026.

“Iron Baby” by Antony Gormley

The Vanthournout couple have been collecting art for over 60 years. At first, they collected Chinese vases, but soon after that, they began buying modern and contemporary art. Roger trained as an interior designer and ran a furniture store in Izegem, Aurora, which had been founded by his father in 1921. Josette (née T’Kint) was an artist and an art lover. From the 1950s onwards, the couple travelled a great deal, visiting art fairs where they engaged directly with artists, dealers and galleries. They tended to buy much of their art from artists, who had not yet achieved great fame, and by doing so acquired artworks at reasonable prices. And viewing the pieces on display at Christies today (5 March 2026), one can easily see that Roger and Josette both had a ‘good eye’, and bought wisely. After the widowed Josette died in 2025 aged 95, the family decided to sell the collection.

And what a collection it must have been, judging by what we saw on display at Christies. There were fine examples of artworks by, to name BUT A FEW: Josef Albers, Pablo Picasso, Man Ray, Rene Magritte, Henry Moore, Yayoi Kusama, Jean Arp, Lucio Fontana, Jean Dubuffet, Lynn Chadwick, Paul Delvaux, Jacques Lipchitz, Tracey Emin, and James Ensor. I was interested to see a couple of works by Victor Vasarely (1906-1997) because when I lived at home, we had one of his abstract prints hanging on the wall of our living room (I have not seen the print since 1991). There were several sculptures by Antony Gormley. These are quite unlike any of the many works I have seen by this artist. Josette and Roger were lucky to have these examples of his work.

The collection we saw at Christies was well-displayed and filled with an amazing array of art created in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Once they have been auctioned, many of the bought by private collectors and galleries far away from London, it will be a very long time, if ever, before they can be seen again by the London public.  

Because it is possible to see works of art that are not usually on public display, visiting Christies (and other auction houses) allows ‘the man (or woman) in the street’ to catch a glimpse of artists’ creations that are frequently not usually accessible except by their owners. And even if you have no intention of making a bid, the staff at Christies are most welcoming and willing to answer any questions you might have regarding the items awaiting auction.

Logged out along a path in London’s Holland Park

WHILE WALKING ALONG a path in Holland Park, I passed a pile of sawn, short logs. The timber was not arranged tidily. It was piled up haphazardly. At first, I thought that the park workers had created this collection of wood prior to it being removed elsewhere, but then I noticed that one piece of wood had a label attached to it, which read:

This loggery is a habitat for invertebrates such as Britain’s largest Coleopteran, the stag beetle. The larvae live in rotting wood for up to seven years …”

So, what I thought was a temporary storage place for the sawn timber is intended to be more of a permanent feature. At other parks, I have seen collections of dead tree stumps, which are called stumperies, but this was the first time I have come across a loggery. Out of curiosity I looked up the word ‘loggery’ on the Internet, and discovered that websites concerned with wildlife conservation use the word as the notice in Holland Park states.

However, loggery has another, older meaning. It is an adjective meaning ‘rank growth’, rank meaning ‘strong’ or ‘vigorous’. The Oxford English Dictionary quotes this example of its usage in “The farming and memorandum books of Henry Best of Elmswell” by Henry Best (c1592-1645):

When barley is loggery and full of greenes.

Well, let us hope that the loggery in the park will allow the stag beetle larvae to achieve rank growth.

It looked like a reflection but that was an illusion

WHEN WALKING ALONG the north side of London’s Euston Road between Albany Street and Hampstead Road, I passed a metal sculpture of a man, life-size, looking into the ground floor plate glass window of a newish building, part of the Regents Place development.

At first sight, it looked as if the sculpture was being reflected by the glass. As I thought that the sculpture looked like the kind of thing created by the British sculptor Antony Gormley, I took a closer look, and saw a plate embedded on the floor next to the artwork. It read:

Antony Gormley Reflection 2001 cast iron”.

Then, looking carefully, I realised that what I thought was a reflection was in fact a replica of the sculpture outside on the other side of the window, in the building. And as I looked at this interesting idea, I noticed that the two sculptures differed in colour, otherwise they were mirror images of each other. Simple though the sculptures are, the idea that a reflection need not be a reflection struck me as intriguing.

When seeing the catalogue outshines viewing the exhibition

AT TATE BRITAIN in London, there is an exhibition of photographs taken by the highly talented Lee Miller (1907-1977), which is showing until 15 February 2026. We visited it today, 15 October 2025. There is a vast number (about 250) of Miller’s photographic works on display. And there was a vast number of people looking at them. Plenty of the images are quite small, and viewing them was not easy because of the crowd of other visitors.

After leaving the exhibition, I looked at the catalogue that has been prepared for it. Many of the exhibits are reproduced well in this huge volume. Whereas in almost all other exhibitions, viewing the actual artworks in ‘real life’ is far more satisfactory than seeing them in a catalogue. I felt the reverse was the case with the Lee Miller show. With the catalogue in your hands, you cans get close to the images, and enjoy them for as long as you wish without being disturbed by others around you.

Unless you are a Member of the Tate, you need to pay about £20 (per person) to see the exhibition. The catalogue costs £32 (paperback). In the case of this exhibition, but not most others, I would suggest buying the catalogue without purchasing an entry ticket. It is a case of see the book, not the exhibition.

Comparing kebab rolls in London’s Soho with those in Kolkata

ACCORDING TO ITS website, the small restaurant in Soho’s Poland Street called The Kati Roll Company (‘KRC’):

“… serves authentic street Kati Rolls just like the ones in Kolkata, India.”

The restaurant is attractively decorated, with its wall covered with fragments of Hindi film posters and a corrugated iron ceiling. It has several tables and chairs. Food is ordered from a counter at the far end of the rectangular dining area, and is delivered a few minutes later. I could not see the kebabs being prepared, but if they are truly kati kebabs, they should have been grilled on bamboo skewers. The roll, wrapped in paper consists of a spicy meat or vegetarian filling enclosed in a rolled-up roti, which the restaurant described as a ‘paratha’.

Kati Roll Company, London

KRC was, according to its website, started:

“… by Payal Saha shortly after she moved from her hometown of Kolkata to New York City. Without any experience running a restaurant, she let her desire for authentic kati rolls drive her passion.”

Well, it was with great interest that today, 3 September 2025, I visited and ate at KRC in Poland Street. I was curious to see how their rolls compared with those at Nizams in central Kolkata. I have written quite a lot about this restaurant in my latest book “88 Days in India: A Journey of Memory and Discovery”. Here is a short excerpt from my description of the rolls at Nizams:

“The kathi roll consists of a kebab (usually chicken or mutton, or potato for vegetarians) wrapped, with or without a cooked egg (like an omelette), in a rolled up flaky paratha. Onions and chillies can also be included in the roll. The paratha is heated in a large amount of oil on a tava (a circular, concave metal hotplate). It is the same one that was installed when the restaurant first opened. According to an article in The Telegraph Online (dated August 2024), the tava weighed 185 Kg in 1932, but through constant use it has lost weight. By 2024, it weighed 80 Kg. Until 1964, the kebabs were grilled on iron skewers. After that, the metal skewers were replaced by cheaper bamboo sticks, known in Bengali as ‘kathi’. The rolls have always been served, wrapped up in paper so that the customers (often in the early days, British men out on the town with Indian ladies) did not get grease on their fingers whilst consuming them. Interesting as the history is, it pales into insignificance when you bite into one of Nizam’s kathi rolls. I do not know how they achieve it, but the taste of Nizam’s kebab filled rolls surpasses that of every other kebab roll I have eaten. Year after year, Nizam’s manages to maintain the high quality and magical flavour of their products.”

After having eaten at Nizams many times, I waited with great interest for the 4 kathi rolls we had ordered in Poland Street to be served.

The fillings in the KRC rolls were tasty enough, and if you have never eaten at Nizams, you would think that they taste pretty good. The so-called parathas in which KRC’s rolls are wrapped seemed more like rotis than what I was expecting. In contrast, the parathas that enclose the fillings at Nizams are, as mentioned above, flaky, almost as much as Malabar or Kerala parathas, but oilier.  Although I enjoyed the rolls at KRC, and will happily eat there again, they are not nearly as satisfying and tasty as those at Nizams. However, it is much easier and quicker for us to reach KRC in Soho than it is for us to get to Nizams in Kolkata.

PS: My book, which contains a chapter about eating in Kolkata, is available from Amazon:

From Lahore to London but he did not live long

THE WHITECHAPEL GALLERY in London’s Aldgate area often hosts exhibitions of adventurous art, and has been doing so for many decades. The current show “Hamad Butt: Apprehensions”, which is on until 7 September 2025, displays works by an artist Hamad Butt. He was born in Lahore (Pakistan) in 1962, and died of AIDS in London, aged only 32. His family brought him to London when he was 2 years old. He studied art at London’s Goldsmith College, Morley College, and Central Saint Martins.

Familiars 3

The ground floor of the Whitechapel Gallery contains three enormous sculptures. Together they form an art installation, which the gallery’s website described as follows:

“Familiars 1: Substance Sublimation Unit is a steel ladder made of glass rungs, each filled with an electrical element and crystals of solid iodine. The current ascends the ladder, intermittently heating the rungs, causing the iodine to sublimate into a purple vapour. In Familiars 3: Cradle, named after Newton’s cradle, 18 vacuum-sealed glass spheres are filled with lethal yellow-green chlorine gas. If smashed together, the gas – a respiratory irritant – would be released into the air. In Familiars 2: Hypostasis, three tall, curved metal poles, reminiscent of Islamic arches, contain bromine-filled tubes at the tips.”

Well, they were visually intriguing pieces of conceptual art. What they stand for is almost more important than their physical appearance.

Upstairs, the galleries are hung with paintings, drawings, and prints. There is also another installation that contains a set of lights emitting ultraviolet rays. Visitors are provided with protective goggles when viewing this exhibit called “Transmission”, which is yet another example of conceptual art that you need to read about to make any sense of it.

What saved the exhibition for me was the display of Butt’s paintings and prints. Ranging from almost figurative to abstract, they appealed to me immediately.  It is a shame the artist lived for such a short time. That which he produced in a few years, I am sure, would have led to him becoming a noteworthy artist with a fascinating output.