Summarize this content to 2000 words in 6 paragraphs in Arabic If you were to take a midnight walk through Newnham, a quiet village in the leafy heart of Kent, you might notice one window still lit up. Rose Wylie likes to work into the early hours. The British artist staples a fresh roll of raw, unstretched canvas on to the wall, then paints alone, in silence. \u201cMy work habits aren\u2019t frightfully good,\u201d the 90-year-old admits. \u201cI\u2019m obsessed with what I\u2019m doing and I don\u2019t care about where the paint goes or how I use the brushes.\u201dWylie\u2019s paintings \u2014 6ft tall, adorned with squashed faces and gnomic captions, crackling with drips and smears \u2014 look like comic strips that have grown unruly. Her pictures have been compared to Philip Guston and Jean-Michel Basquiat, although she summarises them as: \u201cIt\u2019s like what you don\u2019t do if you\u2019re an artist. Can you sense that?\u201dOn a bright morning in February, she greets me in a paint-speckled jacket and yellow tights, silver hair framing pink-tinted shades. \u201cI don\u2019t appear rebellious,\u201d she says, her voice softly patrician. \u201cBut I actually am. I can be very rude and difficult.\u201dWylie\u2019s studio is anarchic, the floor lined with churned-up newspaper and dried paint. \u201cArtists sometimes say hard floors make their back ache. This is like a carpet,\u201d she says. Wylie is always wiping her brushes on the furniture. Once, when she ran out of brushes, she picked a giant thistle from her garden and used that instead.She\u2019s lived in the same 17th-century cottage for the past half century. Her husband, the artist Roy Oxlade, died in 2014. Pete, a plump rescue cat, keeps her company. \u201cI\u2019m a recluse,\u201d she says. \u201cBit of a hermit.\u201dHer breakthrough, after decades in obscurity, was her inclusion in 2010\u2019s Women to Watch show at the National Museum of Women in the Arts in Washington \u2014 the same year Germaine Greer hailed her as \u201cseriously cool\u201d. She was 75. Accolades and retrospectives soon piled up. \u201cI was lucky,\u201d she says of coming to notice much later in life. \u201cBut I also believed there was something in my painting that did it. It isn\u2019t quite like other people\u2019s.\u201dIn the space of a few years her paintings went from fetching a few thousand at auction to commanding six figures. (Collectors include the actor James Norton and, less auspiciously, the rapper P Diddy.) Recently, Wylie modelled for Loewe \u2014 photographed by Juergen Teller. \u201cI like to be in all the major museums,\u201d she says without modesty. \u201cBut money itself I\u2019m not interested in. Though I\u2019d quite like to buy an early C\u00e9zanne, or an El Greco painting. I\u2019m not interested in fast cars or big houses.\u201d She laughs. \u201cHave you got a fast car?\u201dNot everyone has been a fan. The late critic Brian Sewell called her art \u201ca daub worthy of a child of four\u201d. Was she upset? \u201cNo, no! I thought it was wonderful. Obviously, he found me difficult. But then I found him out of place, totally out of time. I didn\u2019t find it in the least bit hurtful.\u201dNext February, Wylie tells me proudly over a lunch of pork pie and red wine in her kitchen, she will become the first British woman to have a major solo exhibition in the main galleries at the Royal Academy of Arts in London. (Marina Abramovi\u0107 was the first female artist to have a solo show there, in 2023.) How does Wylie really feel about the rush of new admirers? \u201cIt makes me giggle sometimes when I\u2019m doing the washing up,\u201d she says. \u201cEspecially when people don\u2019t know quite how to handle it because they think you\u2019re just a floozy and an artist\u2019s wife and a mother. And then the thing that affects them is the amount of money you get for a painting.\u201dHer own tastes run deep, from ancient Roman portraiture to footballers. Sometimes, she imagines alternative endings to Quentin Tarantino films. A neighbour\u2019s daughter cleaning a car in a bikini inspired another series of pictures. She\u2019s painted Nicole Kidman in a backless dress (Wylie recently watched Moulin Rouge! \u201cShe sang like a crow, harsh, no wobble, it was funny. She was very beautiful in it.\u201d)Lately, Wylie has been painting her granddaughter (also named Rose), for an exhibition next month at David Zwirner in London. She gestures towards \u201cLittle Rose, Hall\u201d (2025), the paint still wet. Wylie has pictured her standing by the fireplace in the hallway, although there\u2019s no distinction between where the ceiling and floor begin or end \u2014 typical of how her paintings pull your perspective off balance. Her granddaughter\u2019s dark blue dress sits on top of a primrose yellow that, Wylie notes, is particularly good at catching the sunlight.\u201cI like contrast,\u201d she tells me. \u201cI think contrast is life \u2014 light and shade. It\u2019s death that doesn\u2019t have so much contrast. It\u2019s a bit much the same.\u201dAnother work in the show was prompted by a BBC documentary about the Tudors. Bloody Mary \u201cwasn\u2019t a beautiful queen. I didn\u2019t want to make her pretty. I didn\u2019t want to make her soppy.\u201d Faces are difficult, she says. \u201cThey can start to look too serious, or too formidable, or too tight-arsed.\u201d Wylie prefers shoulders, showing me how she\u2019s accentuated the monarch\u2019s upper arms. \u201cI do think men have the advantage. I stick kitchen paper into mine as I have quite small ones.\u201dMary is backed by an expanse of sooty blackness. \u201cI pushed it in,\u201d Wylie says, miming dragging the brush across. That\u2019s how she talks about her pictures \u2014 the paint is \u201cshoved\u201d, \u201cscrubbed\u201d and \u201cslapped on\u201d. It\u2019s hard work. \u201cThe thread shows, the paint shows, the blobs show.\u201dWylie likes that \u201cyou can see that I\u2019ve changed my mind\u201d where she\u2019s glued over pieces of canvas, or even totally removed the paint with a palette knife and flung it to the floor. Her paintings are testament to her constant reworking. \u201cIt\u2019s like cleaning your oven,\u201d she says. \u201cIt\u2019s like housework.\u201dWylie was born in Kent in 1934. \u201cI was the seventh child. I was not pampered,\u201d she recalls. She spent part of her childhood abroad, although she doesn\u2019t remember much of it. \u201cMy father was the director of ordnance for the whole of India, which was quite a powerful position, but he wasn\u2019t power-seeking. He hated advertisement. He particularly loathed self-advertisement.\u201dShe does remember living in London during the second world war. \u201cI saw it,\u201d she says, \u201cthe doodlebugs.\u201d Decades later, in \u201cPark Dogs & Air Raid\u201d (2017) she painted that terrifying time, and slyly upturned it. Planes buzz across the sky, battle erupting in cartoonish explosions, while dogs and ducks amble around Kensington Gardens below.Wylie went on to Folkestone and Dover School of Art. As a student, she briefly modelled as an \u201cAero girl\u201d, posing for nationwide adverts for the confectionery brand Rowntree\u2019s. (She dislikes the portrait.) But any hopes of a career were put on ice for several decades while she raised three children with her husband. \u201cI was a mother and a wife. I was cooking, making curtains, running a house.\u201d She stopped painting altogether, only beginning again in her late forties. Wylie received her MA from the Royal College of Art in 1981.Returning to art wasn\u2019t just a relief \u2014 it was intoxicating. \u201cSuddenly, I did it all the time,\u201d she says. \u201cYou\u2019re fresh to it. And you\u2019ve also seen a lot, and heard a lot, and read a lot. You can channel it back.\u201d Still, she\u2019s uneasy about her life being made to fit a familiar story of excluded artist mothers. \u201cFeminists find this difficult. You know how the children of artists sometimes are marginalised? My children weren\u2019t,\u201d she says. \u201cI just think that people are important. I think being a wife was important too.\u201dThese days, you have to race to keep up with Wylie\u2019s imagination. One recent painting is of an \u201cinadequacy dream\u201d she had, in which she struggled to clean a brick floor with a scrubbing brush containing five bristles. Another painting, \u201cLilith and Gucci Boy\u201d (2024), based on the Babylonian \u201cBurney Relief\u201d at the British Museum \u2014 and which will be shown at a retrospective at the Zentrum Paul Klee in Bern, Switzerland, this summer \u2014 is enough for Wylie to enthuse at length about the Mesopotamian deity Lilith. \u201cShe was not submissive. Blimey. She fraternised with Satan. You find her in computer games, Pre-Raphaelite poetry\u2009.\u2009.\u2009.\u2009it\u2019s wildly interesting.\u201dWhat will catch her eye next? Recently, she\u2019s been painting plums and their leaves on a pretty green dish. It reminds her of wall paintings in Pompeii. \u201cHere we are, frightful stuff going on in Gaza, terrible stuff going on between Putin and Ukraine,\u201d she says with feeling. \u201cAnd what am I doing? I\u2019m painting plums on a dish. How stupid! But it\u2019s escape.\u201d\u2018When Found becomes Given\u2019, April 3-May 23, davidzwirner.com; \u2018Flick and Float\u2019, Zentrum Paul Klee, July 19-October 5; Royal Academy, February 2026Find out about our latest stories first \u2014 follow FT Weekend on Instagram and X, and sign up to receive the FT Weekend newsletter every Saturday morning<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Summarize this content to 2000 words in 6 paragraphs in Arabic If you were to take a midnight walk through Newnham, a quiet village in the leafy heart of Kent, you might notice one window still lit up. Rose Wylie likes to work into the early hours. The British artist staples a fresh roll of<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":249950,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[65],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-249949","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-culture"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/globetimeline.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/249949","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/globetimeline.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/globetimeline.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/globetimeline.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/globetimeline.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=249949"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/globetimeline.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/249949\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":249951,"href":"https:\/\/globetimeline.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/249949\/revisions\/249951"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/globetimeline.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/249950"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/globetimeline.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=249949"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/globetimeline.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=249949"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/globetimeline.com\/ar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=249949"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}