Nuns singing, musicological trivia, and Comic Sans.
Can there be a “black British music” without Britain or blackness?
Without the gallery’s lush sofas, no one would stop to hear this.
What would it take for art to look like something, anything once more?
This embarrassing display indicts today’s second-fiddlers with narcissism and egomania.
There will be no women when this spell breaks. And no need for magic, either.
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