Notes

‘Whether they hung in the hallowed halls of plutocrats or in the council flats of the working class, Tretchikoff’s paintings conveyed a certain radioactive static, an unearthly yet beatific glow, which added immeasurable pleasure to lives unsettled, disrupted or seeking solace and direction. Crucially, factored into the paintings was a story, or better, the trace of a story, that was redolent and inviting.’
Ashraf Jamal