Finally managed to get to The National Portrait Gallery in London yesterday to see the Lucian Freud exhibition (had booked to go in April but had to cancel due to inspection - grrrrr...). And what a splendid exhibition it is; well worth the wait.
The show spans his whole career, from teenage sketches to the painting he was working on when he died at the grand old age of 88 last year. Poignant. I don't think there's really any point in me saying anything about the work as it has been much talked about and surely everything there is to say has been said already. All I can say is that I enjoyed the opportunity to contemplate such a range of his work, some of which I'd seen in his retrospective in 1987. To view those paintings again was great and to see later work just as much of a treat.
It wasn't as crowded as I'd thought it would be; had a slight twinge of gallery rage at one point but think that was about it, and we didn't have to queue. Much. It's on until the 27 May; still time to get there if you haven't seen it yet.