People deal with midwinter blues in different ways. Some hibernate in front of Netflix. Others seek sunnier climes. Me? At the risk of sounding eccentric, I like to visit New Contemporaries, the annual, open-submission exhibition showcasing emerging artistic talent. This year’s edition, which opens at South London Gallery in Camberwell before travelling to MIMA (the Middlesbrough Institute of Modern Art), features 26 artists, and is characteristically invigorating. Having visited it, I feel full of spring-like hope about the art of tomorrow.
Because the works are picked on individual merit by a panel of artists (this time, it’s the turn of Pio Abad, Louise Giovanelli and Grace Ndiritu), there’s no overarching thesis; the exhibits are disparate and span various mediums, including painting, sculpture, photography and installation. A deconstructed washing machine even provides the basis for an amusing and idiosyncratic kinetic sculptural installation by Oliver Getley, who ingeniously refashions its mechanical elements into strange percussive instruments.
In Slide (2025), by London-based Ukrainian Varvara Uhlik, a steel chute, of a type commonly found in post-Soviet playgrounds, emerges, disturbingly, from a black pool – a dystopia in miniature. A wall-mounted semi-cylinder by Maya Silverberg, embellished with oil paint, pen and screen-printed details, evokes a temple’s fluted column, like a cheap, cheerful knock-off of something ancient, valuable and pristine.
A dystopian in miniature: Slide by London-based Ukrainian Varvara Uhlik – South London Gallery
White wall variation one (2025), by Manuel Alejandro Hernandez Rivera, consists of a swath of tactile brownish velvet heat-printed with a design depicting various ghostly architectural elements (cornicing, an old-fashioned cast-iron radiator, a plug socket). It’s a melancholic, mysterious piece, at once plush and ominous: a sinister memory of bygone imperialist grandeur.
A few works, such as a melodramatic, surreal painting in which a headless nude figure kneels beside rats and a container from McDonald’s, feel immature. Yet, mostly, I was impressed by the accomplishment of the art on display. In The Glass Essays (2024), a dreamlike and nostalgic 16-minute film by Chinese artist River Yuhao Cao, a middle-aged performer executes a slow and controlled, delicate dance, incorporating gestures associated with traditional funerary rites, under moonlight and fireworks, and before crimson curtains on a stage lorry. It’s mesmerising and immaculate.
Mesmerising and immaculate: The Glass Essays is a 16-minute film by Chinese artist River Yuhao Cao – South London Gallery
A melodramatic, surreal painting feels immature: I Believe in Something Better, Ali Cook – South London Gallery
These days, artists emerge with a savvy, sophisticated sensibility, even if they’re not quite fully formed. New Contemporaries, which has been going since 1949 (and boasts some glittering alumni, including David Hockney, Mona Hatoum, Chris Ofili and Mohammed Sami), gives them a stage on which to shine. It’s a laudable venture, providing support when trying to make it as an artist – thanks to rising tuition fees and unaffordable studio space – is tougher than ever. And you never know, if you visit, perhaps you’ll spot the next Hockney.
From Jan 30; southlondongallery.org
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