Graham Carter at London’s Coningsby Gallery

WE'RE SUPPORTING

Valerio Carrubba is a hyperrealist painter. His images are anatomically accurate, showing his peaceful patients with their internal organs exposed. Shocking, realistic and, at the same time, extremely surreal, Valerio’s paintings are technically beautiful and provocative.

WE'RE TRAVELLING TO

In 2004, a local government in Paris revealed plans to redevelop an area of the city. However, in response to time lag and a lack of consultation, a residents group launched a virtual design competition for the area in Second Life. Read more

WE'RE WEARING

With the recent financial qualms, a moment of reflection takes over as we begin to wonder how we all became so out of touch with reality. Somehow Luxury lost its way and mistook itself for decadence, joining the Bling-Bling parade and gravitating towards the streets of self-indulgence. Yet, the true essence of Luxury, as the divine Coco Chanel states ‘is not in the richness and ornateness, but in the absence of vulgarity’. Bravo, I say! Read more

WE'RE THINKING

Jon MacNair’s illustrations are to-the-point and communicative, summing up big ideas in beautifully clear and whimsical imagery. His fine art pieces are mysterious and dreamlike, often encapsulating entire narratives within one image. Read more

WE'RE READING

Michael Wolf, a German born American photographer, has lived in Hong Kong since 1995. His work explores the ways city-dwellers in China and Hong Kong shape their surroundings in an ‘organic metropolis’. His series — Architecture of Density — has some breathtaking images of Hong Kong’s apartment buildings.

Oh man, this is good. If Jamie Lidell was born in any earlier era, he would have soul brother number one plastered all over his birth certificate.

WE'RE LISTENING TO

No Age are doing something different to the mass of noise-laden, guitar-drum duos canvasing the lo-fi airwaves at the moment. I’m just not sure quite what. Their album, Nouns, is receiving top-rate reviews after sell-out crowds after screaming, obsessive fans. The music is simply massive: a vast landscape of heat haze, somehow both tranquil and manic, punctuated by singer Dean Sprouts backdrop of barely intelligible vocals and Randall’s distorted, archaic sounding drums.