I blame the planet's accelerating over population for over crowded art galleries, and intend to invest in a crash course of pushing and shoving especially for the Van Gogh exhibition at the Royal Academy.
I thought I would have a civilised evening when I popped into Peter Clossick's and Julie Held's new exhibition at the Boundary Gallery in leafy St Johns Woods.
But my relaxing evening was not to be, as I was literally pressed against the paintings by the enthusiastic hoards of critics and duffel coated art enthusiasts. Thankfully for my New & Lingwood coat, the oil paint on the canvasses was dry.
It would be worth striving to be a famous artist just for the perks. Once, when David Hockney was still a peroxide blonde, he took a small group of us (three in all) round a Matisse exhibition at an empty Hayward Gallery before the show had even previewed.
But, what impressed me more than Hockney's knowledgeable guided tour was the curator: after unlocking the gallery especially for us, he made us all a cup of tea before we traipsed round the exhibition. Bliss!
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