It's all very exciting living in the 'coolest city in the world' (see American GQ's November issue), but the truth of the matter is the ultimate highlight of my Saturday night might have been watching the spectacle that is Rhydian.

But then again, it might not have been.

Even still, it was a great weekend -- for one thing, swimming outdoors in the sunshine is a incredibly more pleasant way to work out than swimming indoors in the dark basement of my gym. And, I became a Louise Bourgeois convert, thanks to the Tate Modern's current exhibition. Except for the explication of purely historical fact (yes assuming that exists thanks humanist scholars one and all), the walltext, especially any quotes from the artist herself, should be disregarded. The work says plenty. Unfortunately, there's not much of it online, but the breadth of style and media is remarkable. The thematics remain consistent, though, and it's fascinating to see her reinvention of prior works even now. The late period output is installation and the late, late is fabric ('late, late' as in, she's in her 90s), and honestly it's some of her best. And, it's not just me that thinks so: Rachel Cooke wrote in the Observer, 'I walked through the final rooms three times. They are mesmerising.' Too right.

After the Bourgeois, I wandered along the South Bank to the Painting of Modern Life at the Hayward. The central premise is twofold: photography's mediation of contemporary painting, and contemporary painting's approach to everyday, lived experience. As one might expect, Gerhard Richter features prominently (okay by me because I can hardly get enough). More exciting, though, was exposure to a few artists whom I ended up loving: Peter Doig, Thomas Eggerer, Vija Celmins, and Wilhelm Sasnal. The exhibition did go on a bit (I got bored of the 'current events' stuff, and the top floor felt bloated), but I would be quite happy to see it again.

But next will probably be the sex one at the Barbican. For now, I'm off to be a goth: Siouxsie's playing a concert in Camden.

Yesterday, I noticed something at the Tate Modern that I've somehow overlooked in the past, Tate Tracks. It's both cool and naff at once, but that's all right: at least they're trying. My favourite was Union of Knives vs. Cy Twomby (here, mostly cos of the music itself, not because it seemed like really all that connected to the work. Anyway, vic_voltaire's beloved Mercury winners, Klaxons, contributed a track, which is all right. But second best is actually the Basement Jaxx song.

Speaking of art, this afternoon at the Clown Museum (quite a strange place), we saw Sam Taylor-Wood. She taking pictures and recruiting some, well, clowns for a photo project. Welcome to London.

Tonight, I think I finally figured out how to pronounce David Wojnarowicz's name properly. Which feels like a minor triumph.

Anyway, I mention that because some of his work appears in the Barbican's Panic Attack!: Art in the Punk Years exhibition, and it was marvelous. Really, my favourite stuff there, although that's partly because it's not quite as well-known as the work by Goldin, Krueger, Jarman, Basquiat, Haring, etc. and thus felt a bit fresher and less institutionalised. The 'Rimbaud in New York' series -- amazing. Also fascinating -- a 3 minute Super-8 simply called 'Heroin', which I'd love to know if Danny Boyle watched prior to the making of Trainspotting. Granted, there are only so many ways you can, ahem, shoot people shooting up and then collapsing into loucheness, but let's just say it appeared there was some influence.

Time Out gripes about the show's didacticism, which is I think right (the Barbican does seem to have a problem with drily over-contextualising). Still, the explicit argument about confluences of concern in the London and New York art scenes of the period is well-made, and if the God Save the Queen cover collage was up, not everything was quite so 'obvious'. For one, they didn't feature a Jenny Holzer LED sculpture (there were fluorescent, photocopies wallbills, instead). And, obviousness aside, the Cindy Sherman 'film stills' are always striking, no matter how many times you've seen them (which I guess just makes her point, doesn't it?). OH! I almost forgot the most sensational image of the exhibit, by Wojnarowicz's former partner Peter Hujar: 'Candy Darling on Her Deathbed'. It's been made (more) famous by Antony and Johnsons, but seeing it on the wall... incredible.

So, yeah, worth your hour and a half and six quid. Especially on a Thursday night when the galleries are all but empty. Wouldn't want too many people crowded 'round the video monitor showing a man with nothing on but boxing gloves and a mask as he variously pummels his own chest and face and masturbates using tomato ketchup as lubricant (that'd be 'Rocky', by Paul McCarthy, 1976, 26 min., for the record). Punk, indeed.

As I'm currently in "this is the last time I'll do this before I move" mode, I visited the Art Institute today. Best squeeze the last bit out of my membership, right? Also, hi, it's one of the most amazing museums I've ever visited, and I love it. I know I'm gonna have the National Gallery & al. in the near future, but it'll take a while before I know their collections like I do the one here.

At any rate, one of the big draws for me was the "Cézanne to Picasso: Ambroise Villard, Patron of the Avant-Garde" exhibit that just opened. It's kind of overwhelming (250 works!), but bits of it are amazing. It was wonderful to see "Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going?," of course, but honestly the works I found most striking were Bonnard's. I saw his retrospective at the Tate (it ran at MoMA, after; here is the Times's review), and it was pleasant, but I recall it being just so doggone Impressionist. All that water and light and plantlife. The stuff here was much more graphical and fun, especially the "Quelques aspects de la vie de Paris" lithograph series. It added edge to a painter who'd seemed, well, just a bit boring. Which is to say, the whole thing has completely turned my sense of his work upside down, and how often does that happen?

Side note for Chicagoans: As you probably know, The Savvy Traveller is closing down. Its inventory is all at least 20% off. So, yes, I bought Time Out's London Eating and Drinking. Now to fine folks with whom to eat and drink!