Kitty Grady pens a dispatch from one of the biggest nights in the London calendar: the Royal Academy Summer Show.
A Rabbit’s Foot HQ is only minutes away from the Royal Academy—and it’s a place I seek refuge in often. I weave through its corridors as a shortcut to Oxford Circus and the delightfully institutional café, with church-high ceilings, is somewhere I pop into when I need a moment of normality. Meanwhile, I find the loos are the perfect place if you need a moment of peace (and occasionally a tactical weep).
I’ve never, however, seen the RA like this. It’s a rainy summer night in June and the institution is opening its doors for what is the biggest and most high-profile event in its calendar: the Summer Exhibition Preview Party. A staple of the London Summer social calendar, it’s the kind of quote-unquote star-studded affair you might read about in the party pages of publications like Tatler, Evening Standard and Vogue (or, ok, fine, the Daily Mail). The first one took place in 1769, and it has been held every year since—always presided over by a Royal Academician. Whilst the first one had only a couple of hundred works, this year’s show included over 1,500 works, with the artist Ryan Gander at the helm.
Entering through the courtyard—guided by a member of Daisy Hoppen’s stylish army of PRs—I get to see the galleries in a rare state of calm (approximately 150,000 visitors are expected to descend on the Academy this summer). I have to admit it’s a little overwhelming—hundreds and hundreds of works to look at—and to buy. In the architecture room I spy a sculpture of a man lying face down on the floor, a doormat on his back, and I can’t help but relate.
“It’s always a great place of discovery,” says Eva Langret. Langret is one of this year’s co-chairs —a role that essentially involves hosting the evening. She is an incredibly stylish French woman who is the director of Frieze London (at the moment she is deep in prep for this October’s exhibition, she tells me). She is wearing a very cool floral quilted jacket and trousers by CFGNY, an artist’s collective who also make clothes. “Weather appropriate,” she notes with a wink, adding, “It’s British summertime after all.”
“The RA summer exhibition is such a big time for the creative community to gather and celebrate,” she continues, describing favourite works she has spotted by Lindsay Mendick, Alvaro Barrington (located next to the Frank Bowling). I explain that I am feeling a little lost. “You should grab a booklet, look around and if it catches your eye—you look it up in the booklet, and hopefully it’s within budget. Who knows? You might become the owner of a new artwork.”
I decide to take the advice to heart as I wander around the galleries, now starting to fill up with celebrities I am maybe secretly more excited about looking at. Claudia Winkleman! Lily Allen! Wolf Alice! Mia Reagan (who stands out in green hot pants and heels), Tish Weinstock! Self-Esteem! Grace Campbell! I am personally quite excited about spotting Harriet Walter (who I once interviewed for A Rabbit’s Foot) and appears dressed in red. Minutes later I see her on-screen ex-husband Brian Cox (aka Logan Roy, aka Rupert Murdoch), sauntering imperially through the exhibition.
As I continue my meander through the galleries—grabbing onto Tatler journalist Dora Davies-Evvit, whilst also spotting another double-barrelled Dora, Dora DB from Plaster magazine, buzzing following a successful vox pop with Nick Grimshaw—I spot Oasis offspring Lennon Gallagher. Like me, he has stopped to look at a sculpture of a stuffed cat (costing a cool £20,000), which is sitting next to a work of art by a 12 year-old. I watch Gallagher post next to the animal while his plus-one takes a photograph.
Cats are a theme elsewhere in the exhibition—I find myself staring at a wall of artworks for several minutes with a smile, before realising they are all felines—with a line of frogs and ceramic crisp packets underneath. Two men in suits are also starring appreciatively. Just around the corner, I spy the curator Aindrea Emelfie. Her friend is wondering whether to buy an artwork depicting a girl reclining (also with a cat). She discovers it’s only available unframed, so she changes her mind. “I wanted artwork, not an errand.”
Elsewhere, people are buying art thick and fast. When I say hello to Archie Madekwe, another co-chair at this year’s Summer Exhibition, he is by the tills, hot off a purchase. “It’s one of those really exciting nights,” says Madekwe. “I got here early to make my purchases. I’m in my small painting era. I got this beautiful painting—it’s lot 1261.”
Laura Weir, head of the British Fashion Council—and another co-chair has also been on a shopping spree. “I am a die-hard art and fashion fan. I’ve been coming every year because of the affordable pricing structure. I can buy things that would otherwise be out of reach,” she says, describing previous purchases by Academician Tracey Emin and Alba Martinez. She has bought three works already this year, although the names escape her. “I’m a terrible art collector. I just go by what I like. You’ll see artists starting out in their career and lapsed artists who have created for years. I love eclecticism.”
I soon come across one artist who has a particularly long relationship with the Summer Show. As I move into one of the galleries, there is a commotion of TV cameras and people, which at first I am convinced must be a wedding. (The TV presenter is wearing a white dress). It’s Christine Bleakley from BBC’s The One Show, recording live from the galleries to interview Vincent Michael Brown – an artist who has been applying to be in the show for 22 years. This year he has finally had success with his painting Gossip Girls (a slightly dour, photo-realist tableau of two grey-haired ladies whispering). The next day, I watch the show back on iPlayer. “No red dot yet,” he says, disappointment visible.
On my 15th lap of the gallery, I start to feel a bit of a loose end. Alone and a bit self-conscious, I realise that one perk of the Summer Show is that being solo can be masked as extremely intentional art collecting, and I pretend to peruse the catalogue carefully. Sadly the artworks I do like (an abstract black and white photograph with figures of women) costs £8,000. I realise that a better strategy would be to start with the prices. A parody of Frederic Leighton’s Flaming June—present in the RAcollections—peaks my attention. The same lady has Sainsbury’s shopping bags at her feet. On more examination, I decide that for a few hundred quid I probably want more than two bags for life.
Beyond Tracey Emin, whose work is present across the galleries, the RA’s biggest presence of the night is undoubtedly Grayson Perry. He is also a co-chair this year and arrives in his typical drag alter ego as Claire. Finding her, however, is a bit like a game of Where’s Wally. There are seemingly dozens of lookalikes and similar guises, so much so that I’m not too upset when Perry doesn’t have time for an interview. I’ve had my fair share of Claires for one evening.
I take a quick break by the oyster bar (where they have managed to perfect vegetarian oysters). I befriend two ladies who tell me they come every year and get smashed on champagne and buy art recklessly (this year’s favourite: an embroidered beetle). Soon, it is time for music. Presented by Clara Amfo, this year’s music curator presented the singer Sasha Keable, who despite jet lag, performs powerfully in front of a big artwork of a looping squiggle. After a final nip down to the RA loos (for old time’s sake), I decide to leave, making a beeline for the nacho truck. In the rain, the three cylinders of bread covered in lettuce and sweet potatoes are far from perfect, however they do feel a bit like art.
