It struck me one day. In French, we call nature morte (literally 'dead nature') what the English language calls still life. These words that I have spoken since childhood have always carried this brutal finality, the uncomfortable idea of extinction and decay. Still life, however, sounds gentler and suspended. Same paintings, two very different sensations. Sarah Miriam Peale, Still Life with Watermelon, 1822, oil on panel, 46.4 x 67 cm. Harvard Art Museums, Cambridge, MA. Ita

At craft markets and fairs, rows of tables stretch like a succession of small stages. Each one is curated by a maker who orchestrates a dialogue between the objects and the passing visitor, and between the objects themselves too. These displays do their job in drawing their audience, yet they are rarely seen for what they are. For in their careful compositions, they actually echo a fine art tradition: the still life . When I walked among the stalls at Potfest Scotland last

An insightful review of 'Resistance: How Protest Shaped Britain and Photography Shaped Protest' at the National Galleries of Scotland. Spanning the 20th century, the exhibition presents stark black-and-white images of protest, from suffragettes to anti-racist marches, revealing resistance as both a momentum to live and a form of creative expression. It connects past struggles to present ones, showing that the idea of struggle is ongoing and deeply embedded in society's fabric