Out of office: the Wallpaper* editors’ picks of the week

A summer swansong

Melina Keays, Entertaining Director

We are standing at the junction between summer and autumn, and I’ve tasted the best of both seasons in a single week. I‘ve explored breathtakingly beautiful landscaped gardens at Stourhead, a National Trust estate in Wiltshire, complete with monuments, a grotto, and a temple overlooking a lake – all resplendent in glorious late-August sunshine. I’m not one to mourn the passing of the summer though, as September, amongst its many charms, beckons us back to the city and the indoor conviviality of restaurants, pubs and bars. In London, I enjoyed cocktails at one of my favourites: Scarfes Bar at The Rosewood Hotel in Holborn. Scarfe’s Bar regularly collaborates with other renowned bars from around the world, giving Londoners the opportunity to sample their wares. On the night of my visit, Singapore’s Cat Bite Club was in residence. I jumped at the chance to try a broccoli cocktail (actually named ‘Hulk Splash’), featuring tequila, cardamon, kiwi, pear, and roasted broccoli. It was delicious.

A tasteful tome

Anna Solomon, Digital Staff Writer

I love coffee table books, and place myself firmly in the camp of 'never being able to have too many'. So, you can imagine my delight when I received a copy of Wilfredo Lam by Jacques Leenhardt, published by Thames & Hudson, this week. Lam, born in Cuba in 1902 to a Chinese father and African mother, created a striking visual language that synthesised his multicultural heritage. He studied the European masters in Spain, moved in the same circles as Pablo Picasso and André Breton in Paris, and drew influence from surrealism, Matisse and African art. With the 125th anniversary of his birth approaching, this monograph, out 30 October, offers a timely and insightful exploration of Lam’s contributions to 20th-century art and politics. Oh, and its gorgeous burgundy cover just so happens to be a perfect fit in my living room.

A mid-week headbanger

Anna Fixsen, US Editor

What do you do when you love someone? You follow them to the ends of the earth – even when that means a Wednesday evening in New Jersey. That describes my latest mid-week adventure as I dutifully sojourned across the Hudson River to take my husband, as a very belated Christmas gift, to see nu metal legends Korn and System of a Down.

The sold-out show saw thousands of (mostly grey-templed) fans pack into MetLife Stadium for a raucous trip down memory lane. Korn frontman, Jonathan Davis, kitted out in a sparkly black kilt (he also plays the bagpipes), thanked the audience for supporting his band for a whopping 31 (gulp) years, in between face-melting renditions of A.D.I.D.A.S, Got the Life and – of course – Freak on a Leash.

System of a Down’s set, though, is what really got the multitudes moshing; their two-night appearance marked the first time in 13 years that the band’s played in the New York area. And their 26-song set – which, in addition to early-aughts bangers like Chop Suey! and Hypnotize, included an amped-up cover of Snowblind as a tribute to Ozzy Osbourne – had us all head-banging in our seats. I stayed clear of the mosh pit, but I am sure you could hear me belting out Aerials from up in the nosebleeds.

A magnetising multimedia

Gabriel Annouka, Senior Designer

In the Tanks in the Blavatnik Building of Tate Modern, Christelle Oyiri, the inaugural artist of the Infinities Commission, asks: In a Perpetual Remix Where Is My Own Song? The work, which I caught with Wallpaper* staff writer Tianna Williams before it closed on 28 August, opened with sound and lighting pouring over sculptures, before a film cut from colonial imagery to meme-age spectacle. As slick as a 1990s ad, yet far more personal, it was precise, brutal and strangely tender. Visual reflections on digital culture, beauty standards and hyperconnectivity collapsed into a loop that built up towards Squarepusher’s A Journey to Reedham, its rhythm pulling you into the dance. Grand, sublime, dizzying.

A West London hoedown

Sofia de la Cruz, Travel Editor

Who’d have thought west London’s Chiswick would become synonymous with honky-tonk? Last weekend I dusted off my cowboy boots and stepped into Lil’ Nashville, a country club and kitchen catering to every ‘yeehaw’ craving. The night was pure comedy: Johnny Cash impersonators leading line-dancing routines, live country blues humming in the background, and southern-style burgers that were as indulgent as they were delicious.