Our regular eye on the London art scene.
In praise of the subtle slope.
Not in the guidebook.
Dried, salted pig's liver, anyone?
Eliza Doolittle wouldn't recognise it.
Extreme selfies. But are they fake or real?
Don't miss these vendors.
The players, the promoters, the producers, the punters.
Where a steamboat was once blown up.
Viking tales, a crap film, and Y2K all over again.
Get a load of this in your retinas.
Londonist
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