August is always a crap month for exhibitions in London. The collectors are elsewhere, the dealers are presumably hot on their heels, and the galleries are filled with makeweight group shows staged to hold the fort until the end of the holidays. This year, however, even events of that kind are thin on the ground: many establishments have simply shuttered for the month – and given the dire state of the art market, I’m inclined to wonder how many will reopen come September.

The doom-auguring sunflower paintings here would look great on the cover of a Metallica record

Still, I caught the two Anselm Kiefer shows running concurrently. Kiefer famously scandalised West German society with a series of performances in which he had himself photographed giving the Nazi salute in front of various historically loaded monuments. That was in 1969, and he has since become immensely successful and progressively less interesting. I can’t really write about the better exhibition at the Royal Academy, which pairs the German’s work with that of his hero Van Gogh, as the curator is a friend. But in summary: you’ll look at the Dutchman’s paintings afresh, marvelling at the berserk virtuosity of the brushwork; you will also note how........

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