MATTHEW HAWKINS applauds a psychotherapist’s disection of William Blake

IN 1874, three years after the bloody and traumatic demise of the Paris Commune, Claude Monet — son of a Parisian greengrocer — showed his work at group exhibition in Paris of like-minded painters.
His canvas, laconically titled Impression, Sunrise, depicts in swift and almost off-hand brush strokes the hazy view of the port of his adopted city Le Havre, as seen from his window at a dawn enveloped by dense fog.
The canvas's title provided the Le Charivary magazine’s art critic Louis Leroy's with the headline “The Exhibition of the Impressionists” for the review — not particularly imaginative, except for the neologism “impressionists.” It stuck like glue.

Strip cartoons used to be the bread and butter of newspapers and they have been around for centuries. MICHAL BONCZA asks our own Paul Tanner about which bees are in his bonnet

New releases from Hannah Rose Platt, Kemp Harris, and Spear Of Destiny
