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A figure reads the world’s news beneath the gaze of the ancient Sphinx, photographed by Maryam Eisler

Egypt is a country on the lips of smart cultural leaders everywhere, with the annual Art d’Egypte fair a contemporary anchor to thousands of years of culture. Across these pages, Rania Al Khalifa writes a paean to accompany a photographic portfolio by Maryam Eisler

Anchored by the long-awaited debut of the Grand Egyptian Museum (GEM), Egypt is currently experiencing a profound cultural renaissance. For me, it was the necessary catalyst for a return visit after a 38-year hiatus, and to take a journey along its ancient river – a chance to see if the country that Herodotus called the “gift of the Nile” still held its ancient magnetism.

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Cairo is a city of glorious, productive friction. We began with two nights at the Four Seasons Cairo Nile Plaza, centrally perched and pulsing with the city’s energy. Between the dust-caked majesty of the Giza Plateau and the sleek, limestone-and-glass futuristic designs of the GEM, Cairo offers a short, sharp spurt of chaos that serves as a vital preamble to the Nile’s slower tempo.

They say the light in Luxor hits different; a syrupy, amber glow that seems to emanate from the limestone itself. Landing in ancient Thebes feels like an immediate shedding of the modern world. To truly lean into the romance of the site, one must stay at the Sofitel Winter Palace Luxor. Here the ghosts of former guests Howard Carter and Agatha Christie still seem to linger in the high-ceilinged corridors of a palace that served as one of King Farouk’s favourite winter residences.

Read more: Arch Hades in conversation with Catherine Loewe

While the Big Three – Karnak Temple, Luxor Temple and the Valley of the Kings – are non-negotiable, I recommend veering off the mainstream to include Dendera Temple. It is a place where you realise the staggering breadth of Egyptian theology. Between the tongue-twisting names of Akhenaten and Ahmose, you eventually stop trying to memorise facts and simply start feeling the weight of history. It is a humbling curriculum in human insignificance.

The transition from Luxor to Aswan is best served by a dahabiya. We boarded the Roman by Nour el Nil, a 10-cabin vessel that epitomises rustic chic. This is unabashedly analogue travel: no pool, no gym, just the snap of a sail and the high-touch service of a devoted crew. Sailing on a dahabiya is a study in the melancholic rhythm of the river.

Read more: Marcantonio Brandolini d’Adda’s art manifesto

The pièce de résistance of the south is Abu Simbel. Many travellers omit this due to its proximity to the Sudanese border, but to skip it is to miss the soul of the empire. I have stood in the silent shadows of Angkor Wat and watched the clouds lift over Machu Picchu, but I have never felt as physically and spiritually dwarfed as I did beneath the four seated figures of Ramesses II. Carved directly into the Nubian sandstone, these statues were a definitive line in the sand, a celestial warning that Egypt’s power began here and ended nowhere.

Egypt remains a land where the only thing that moves faster than the Nile’s current is the imagination. A ten-day journey here doesn’t just fill a passport, it recalibrates the soul.

Rania Al Khalifa

Photographic portfolio and words by Maryam Eisler

At Gebel el-Silsila, where the Nile slips softly between walls of sun-burned sandstone, the chapel of pharaoh Merneptah (a son of Ramesses II) is carved like a whispered prayer – a son’s quiet claim to immortality. Although less monumental than his father’s structures, Merneptah’s chapel reflects a continuity of royal presence along the Nile and the religious importance of this quarry region.

She stands beneath the ancient gaze of the Sphinx, unfolding today’s news while millennia watch in silence behind her. Smoke curls into the desert sky, and for a moment the modern world drifts softly against the face of infinitude.

At Luxor Temple, a guide stands half revealed between ancient stones, as if emerging from the hieroglyphs that surround him. Suspended between shadow and sunlight, he feels less like a man in passing and more like a messenger from another age.

From the quiet drift of the boat at dusk, the palms rise like darkened lace against a sky still holding the last gold of day.

Beneath the shadow of the Temple of Esna, where the deity Khnum once shaped humankind from Nile clay, a worker bends into the dust as though continuing the god’s unfinished work. In the golden light, his gaze holds the same ancient gravity: earth on his hands, eternity in his stare.

At Giza, the pyramid of the pharaoh Khafre rises from the desert like a flame turned to stone, holding the last light of day as if it were a secret whispered to the ages.

Maryam Eisler

Arch Hades, London, March 2026, by Maryam Eisler

Arch Hades’ multidisciplinary practice oscillates between poetry, painting and text-based installation, shaped by existential philosophy and an unflinching engagement with the human condition. She speaks to Catherine Loewe about grief, gender, power and the inspiration behind her most monumental work, unveiled during this year’s Venice Biennale, accompanied by portraits by Maryam Eisler

Catherine Loewe: Your route into the arts was unconventional: you had an earlier career in politics, then published six volumes of poetry. How did the transition into visual art occur?

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Arch Hades: It began with failure. I took Art at GCSE, but when a teacher lost my coursework I was downgraded to a grade B. At my academically competitive school, I was told not to bother doing Art for A level or applying to art school, so I didn’t. I did, however, excel in Politics. I took a year out before university to work in Parliament and continued throughout my degree. I didn’t even attend my graduation – I didn’t want to take the day off. I was locked in for years, until I grew disillusioned and decided it was time to try and do something creative. Turns out politics is not that different from the arts. Politics is competitive storytelling.

A studio view of Return, 2025, by Arch Hades

The pivotal moment came when my fourth book Arcadia was illustrated and sold as a digital film at Christie’s for a tidy sum and I was able to set up a home studio. The reward for making art is you get to make more art. I spent the pandemic writing books and re-training as a painter. I was 30 by the time I picked up a paintbrush since my B at GCSE. It’s been a journey.

CL: How has your time in the political sphere impacted your practice? Are you engaged in gender politics?

AH: Oh boy, my whole life is gender politics. Making art as a woman is inherently political because it represents a rejection of the traditional life of silent service, even if the work itself isn’t explicitly political. Some of my poetry does address politics directly – particularly 21st Century Human, which includes a section titled 21st Century Woman on emotional labour and gender expectations.

My visual practice is rooted in existentialism, which I see as a political philosophy. Existentialism insists on responsibility without divine authority: meaning must be made, not received. Historically, as women, we have come so far – once we couldn’t vote, open bank accounts or wear trousers, and that exclusion was normalised. Progress depends on better choices and accountability. I want to see powerful men being held responsible for their actions. There is more to hope and fight for.

Roots, 2025, by Arch Hades

CL: What are your defining moments?

AH: Experiencing loss and grief at an early age. Once death enters your life, it never fully leaves. It’s impossible to explain human cruelty to a child. After profound loss washes over you, all beauty becomes marked by tragedy – by its inevitable impermanence and the knowledge that none of this is ours, we are only permitted to enjoy it for a while. There is a glory in that. It’s a privilege to love what death does not touch.

Read more: Arch Hades’ Return at the Venice Biennale

CL: What do you look for in an extraordinary work of art?

AH: The mysterious and the inexplicable: I’m drawn to works I cannot fully rationalise, those I return to again and again. One of my favourite paintings is Cow Beside a Ditch by Willem Maris. There is nothing ostensibly remarkable about it, yet it feels as though it was painted specifically for me. Donna Tartt describes this sensation perfectly in The Goldfinch as “the nail where your fate is liable to catch and snag”.

The Sea, The Sea, 2025, by Arch Hades

CL: Which artists have shaped your visual language?

AH: The list is ever growing, but I always return to René Magritte, Franz Sedlacek, Andrew Wyeth, Tamara de Lempicka and Francis Bacon – artists who balance precision with unease and return insistently to the human condition.

CL: Who are your favourite poets, living and dead?

AH: Byron, Rainer Maria Rilke, Mary Oliver, WH Auden, Carol Ann Duffy, Joseph Brodsky and Pablo Neruda.

CL: What is your current obsession?

AH: Byzantine iconography. It’s supremely stylised and unapologetically confident: elongated forms, flattened space, strict geometry, repetition of symbols and often bizarre human expressions. In my new series I replace human saints with scenes of nature – a not-so-subtle nod to what we should really be worshipping.

It’s time to return the love I borrowed, Confessions series, 2025, by Arch Hades

CL: Can you describe your working process?

AH: I begin at the end. Whether writing or painting, I visualise the final state before I start. In poetry, I often write the last line first. I first need to articulate to myself what I want the viewer or reader to feel, then visualise the final composition, textures and rhythm before executing the steps. I’m not spontaneous or carefree, I’m a planner.

CL: How do you think about colour?

Read more: Marcantonio Brandolini d’Adda’s art manifesto

AH: I love the drama of monochrome and draw great inspiration from filmmakers like Tarkovsky and Fritz Lang.

Too many colours overstimulate me – orange in particular makes my skin itch. I haven’t worn anything but black for years. Sergei Parajanov’s The Colour of Pomegranates demonstrates how restrained colour, glazed against near-monochrome scenes, can be devastatingly effective. In my own work, I typically introduce only two colours – ultramarine blue-green and alizarin crimson – to pull the eye toward the central subjects of the composition.

I catch myself mourning the present like it’s already a memory, Confessions series, 2025, by Arch Hades

CL: Tell us about Return (2025), the centrepiece of your upcoming Venice exhibition.

AH: Return is a 13-metre-wide, 22-panel painting composed of 63 life-size nude figures, installed across three walls, like an altar triptych. It’s the largest scale project I’ve undertaken and a huge honour to be invited by the Erarta Foundation to show in a beautiful decommissioned church on the Grand Canal.

The work draws inspiration from Gustav Klimt’s lost Faculty Paintings, particularly his vision of bodies drifting through a symbolic river of life. My figures echo Greco-Roman sculpture: they flow, merge and ultimately dissolve into a black abyss at the centre, tracing the full spectrum of human emotion – grief, fear, desire, tenderness. Some are tributes to family and friends; others reference art history – the Three Graces, or Bernini’s Rape of Proserpina in the Galleria Borghese.

Klimt’s Faculty Paintings have a tragic history. Commissioned in 1894 for the Great Hall of the University of Vienna, the panels – on Medicine, Philosophy and Jurisprudence – were destroyed when retreating German SS forces set fire to the building. Only preparatory sketches and photographs remain. That sense of loss, of cultural memory erased feels profoundly relevant.

Return | Ritorno  unfolds across three floors of the Scoletta Battioro e Tiraoro di Venezia, a decommissioned church on the Grand Canal in Venice. Photograph by Eva Herzog

CL: You’re also presenting Sphinx, an interactive sculpture that integrates visual art and poetry.

AH: Every sculpture begins with a poem. I look for ways to materialise language as a physical object, using acrylic polymer and mirrors to explore reflection, transparency and opacity. Debuting Sphinx in Venice feels fitting. I loved the riddle as a child, the idea of the self as a traveller passing through time. That question – the nature of being human – runs through everything I do. We labour in webs spun long before we were born, but we can still shape our fate.

Read more: Jennifer Shorto’s highlights of the Cora Sheibani collection

My optimism comes from lived experience. My mother took us out of a totalitarian environment and into this dream of democracy, where individual choices matter. It is not hopeless or useless.

CL: Text continues to play a central role in your practice. Can you tell us more?

AH: Writing has always sought permanence – from The Epic of Gilgamesh onward. Poetry demands vulnerability, and connection demands authenticity. My Confessions series, which will also be included in the Venice show, draws on decades of journalling. I enlarge handwritten diary fragments onto concrete and marble slabs, transforming private confession into public object. Here, text is not illustrative – it is the work. Sometimes it succeeds, sometimes it doesn’t. It requires vulnerability, but I’ve found that the phrases I was most afraid to reveal are often the ones that resonate the most with audiences.

Return | Ritorno in progress in the studio, courtesy of Arch Hades

CL: We’re living through profound cultural and political shifts. How do you situate yourself within this moment?

AH: I hate that we are transitioning from nature as our host of life to mass technology as our environment. That’s what Arcadia, my fourth book, is about. We risk losing something ancient and essential in the process.

CL: Which artwork would you live with, if you could?

AH: Malevich’s Black Square, displayed in the corner as originally intended. It articulates one of my central philosophical positions: the rejection of religious authority and challenging tradition that ultimately celebrates existentialism. I don’t believe I should own it – but perhaps I could borrow it?

CL: If you could have lunch with anyone you admire, who would it be?

AH: Goodness, there are so many people I look up to. Living: Maria Ressa, Anne Applebaum, Maia Sandu. And dead: Jane Goodall, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Mileva Marić.

I’d like to have lunch with Shabana Mahmood, the [UK] Home Secretary, or Bridget Phillipson, [UK] Minister for Women and Equalities, to persuade them to bring forward policy to create a publicly accessible nationwide register of stalkers, domestic abusers, sexual offenders and anyone convicted of killing their female partner. Up to a quarter of these men are repeat offenders and I believe women should have access to information about someone’s history of sexual violence, if they are considering dating them. This will save lives and is a vital step towards protecting women and girls.

Arch Hades, London, March 2026, by Maryam Eisler

CL: What advice would you give to your 20-year-old self?

AH: Don’t get married. In fact, don’t even date anybody.

CL: What’s something that people don’t know about you?

AH: I’m an ordained minister. I’m not religious, I just enjoy officiating gay marriages.

Read more: A conversation with Claudio Laager

CL: What do you hope audiences take away from your work?

AH: I hope my art and poetry might become the “nail where your fate is liable to snag”. Like reading something you thought only happened to you, only to discover it happened to Byron 200 years ago. That recognition collapses time and liberates suffering and isolation. This is why art matters – because life matters.

Arch Hades’ solo exhibition, Return | Ritorno, runs from 7 May to 30 October 2026 at Scoletta Battioro e Tiraoro di Venezia

archhades.com

The historic Burlington House on Piccadilly, which houses the Royal Academy of Arts, featuring the courtyard statue of the RA’s first President, artist Sir Joshua Reynolds

To the hundreds of thousands who visit its exhibitions every year, the Royal Academy of Arts is a must-visit museum on the European art circuit. Like its peers at the top of the art world, it has created shows that have redefined the art scene, including ‘A New Spirit in Painting’ in 1981 and 1997’s ‘Sensation’; more recently, it has hosted blockbuster solo shows by the likes of Marina Abramović and William Kentridge – both, coincidentally, artists who have created cover logos for LUX. But the RA has a lesser-known jewel in its crown. As the name says, it is an academy – an art school, probably the world’s most respected – with studios housing artists on a three-year immersion course in its premises at the heart of Mayfair. It even has its own design technology studios and sculpture kiln. Eliza Bonham Carter, the celebrated Director of the RA Schools, was invited to create the LUX logo for our cover this issue, while Renoir Saulter, one of her students, imagines his own working of our cover on these pages

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“The breadth of talent that comes from the RA Schools is amazing, from Constable and Turner to Millais, and now to Michael Armitage, Rachel Jones and Lynette Yiadom-Boakye. In the life-drawing room, we still have the original benches where Constable and Turner learned to draw”

– Batia Ofer, Chair, Royal Academy Trust

“The Royal Academy Schools is an independent postgraduate school of art that offers a three-year programme. One of many remarkable aspects of the school is that it remains free of charge to all who study with us. We support speculative practice, experimentation and the possibilities of learning through making. The central focus is the studio, where each student explores their own practice supported by an academic structure and our specialist workshops. Our graduates go on to contribute meaningfully to culture in many ways, including through exhibitions, teaching, writing and curating”

– Eliza Bonham Carter, Director, Royal Academy Schools

“Being at the RA Schools is like a great plate of scran shared with the family or a cold pint after some hard graft. The experience is fruitful, mind-bending, hardcore and cosy. The whole staff, security and tutors really make the place feel like home”

– Renoir Saulter, artist and student, Royal Academy Schools

Reimagined LUX covers, with logos by artist and RA Schools student Renoir Saulter, and cover photograph of Batia Ofer by Simon de Pury

royalacademy.org.uk

Marcantonio Brandolini d’Adda, photographed by Simon de Pury

Artist, artisan, thinker: Marcantonio Brandolini d’Adda hails from one of the most significant Venetian families and is a contemporary reincarnation of a Renaissance rebel, with looks and connections to match. He tells LUX his manifesto for 2026 and beyond

“From next year, I’m not going to be an entrepreneur, nor an artist or a designer – I’m just going to be me. There should be a new word, perhaps, to communicate all those personas in one – like a kind of Frankenstein.

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I suppose putting things into categories is part of life. But for me, there’ll be no more putting things into boxes or letting others define what I am.

“Moduli Luminosi” solo exhibition at David Gill, London, 2025

From next year, my direction is clear: I’m focusing on my artistic development – on developing my creative soul, my language. I think others should “feel” what you are.

My question has always been: why am I creating work for the public to see? Is it to express my feelings? To confront social injustices? The new work I’m putting together is an attempt to answer that question.

Read more: Arch Hades’ Return at the Venice Biennale

My creative process has three stages. It starts with confusion – with an existentialist question, such as, “what’s the point of life?” The answers can be infinite. Then I start writing answers and asking more questions, digging until I get an answer to investigate with intensity. This stage is rough. I write differently. My hands hurt from how tightly I press the pencil. Then comes the final stage: peace. That intensity dissolves into a line, shape, drawn in pastel. At that point I’ve answered my question. I feel complete.

White Pool glassware designed by Alvise De Mezzo, by Laguna~B, of which Brandolini d’Adda is Artistic Director

In my next work, glass is out. People always say, “glass is your passion”, but it has never been a material I’ve liked to express myself with. I want to understand what I am doing and why and communicate that to the public. For now, that means not using glass. It might eventually come back in another form, but it’s a question I hope this research will answer.

Read more: Jennifer Shorto’s highlights of the Cora Sheibani collection

This work is important to me. I never went to art school, so this process of realising what life and art should be comes entirely from within. It’s not something I’ve been taught.

Marcantonio Brandolini d’Adda at work in his studio

Coming from a famous family can be a challenge. But I see it as an opportunity, a tool to communicate with the public and understand what might be useful to them. I can’t hold a conversation for more than 10 minutes. If I can do it through art, then maybe my background will become a “fuck you” to everyone.

Venice is in my DNA. It’s a city that gives me tranquillity, space. But I want my business to grow beyond that – to stand alone. I will have an atelier open to the public in Venice. You may see some glass, but also what’s next – perhaps performance, or sculpture, too.

lagunab.com

Arch Hades photographed in her studio by Eva Herzog

In her newest exhibition ‘Return | Ritorno’, the poet and artist Arch Hades has transformed the historic site of Scoletta Battioro e Tiraoro di Venezia into a stage for her artworks. Displayed amongst the building’s architecture, paintings, and sculpture, Arch Hades has created an immersive environment of large-scale works and soundscape for the 61st Venice Biennale

Follow LUX on Instagram: @luxthemagazine

Return | Ritorno  unfolds across three floors of the Scoletta Battioro e Tiraoro di Venezia, a decommissioned church on the Grand Canal in Venice. Photograph by Eva Herzog

Arch Hades uses fibreglass and acrylic polymer to create a ‘marble’ finish for her piece I want to return to the past but no one will be there, as part of her Confessions Series. Photograph by Eliot Gelberg-Wilson

Return, 2025. The centrepiece of the exhibition is a monumental 22-panel painting spanning 13 metres which pays homage to Greco-Roman sculpture. Photographed by Eva Herzog

LUX Editor-in-Chief Darius Sanai with Arch Hades at the opening of Return | Ritorno for the 61st Venice Biennale

Arch Hades combines her poetry with visual art in her display of Sphinx, 2026. Photography by Eva Herzog

Arch Hades, Rain, 2025, exhibited alongside the site-specific work of Scoletta Battioro e Tiraoro di Venezia. Photography by Eva Herzog

Exhibition details:

Return | Ritorno  
Scoletta Battioro e Tiraoro di Venezia
Supported by Erarta Foundation 
7 May - 30 October 2026 

archhades.com

A portrait of Jennifer Shorto, a textile and wallpaper designer who is inspired by antique textiles from across the world

Jennifer Shorto, textile and wallpaper creator for the famous and discerning around the world, chooses six pieces for the season from the quirkily magnificent collections of London-based jeweller Cora Sheibani

Follow LUX on Instagram: @luxthemagazine

1. Decorated Gugelhupf ring

Platinum with ebony, diamond, ruby and blue sapphire: there are only bold rings for me – ebony with gems shifts attention from my hands to drama. I am fascinated by wood with stones.

2. Transition earrings

Platinum with pink spinel and grey sapphire: these are classical yet unexpected – rigorous in line, playful in pink. They seduce me into wearing earrings again.

Read more: Bentley by LUNAZ review

3. Triple C&C necklace

Citrine and silex jasper, with 18k yellow-gold clasp: citrine is liquid sunshine, its luminous gold complements my skin and clothes, radiating warmth and vibrant energy.

4. Tetris brooch with jabot pin

18k champagne gold with smoky quartz and aquamarine: I love holding dresses and jackets together with brooches. Smoky quartz with aquamarine is a quietly stunning pairing.

Read more: A tasting of Joseph Phelps wines with Maison President David Pearson

5. Sorbet ring

18k rose gold with peach and purple Edison pearls: the colour clash of these gems is delicious – I’m thrilled to see these unusual pearls.

6. B&B earrings

18k yellow gold with Palmeira citrine and orange zircon: flattering and vibrant, they light up the face. Rigour keeps them timeless, never old-fashioned.

All corasheibani.com

jennifershorto.com

Claudio Laager, photographed by Isabella Sheherazade Sanai

Claudio Laager is the General Manager of the Grand Hotel Kronenhof in Pontresina. A local to the Engadin valley, Laager brings a personal perspective to luxury hospitality, blending tradition with a hands-on approach that connects guests to the natural beauty surrounding the hotel. LUX speaks to him about the unique stay offered at the Kronenhof

LUX: How would you characterise the Kronenhof and Pontresina compared to the Kulm and St Moritz?

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Claudio Laager: Whereas St. Moritz attracts the international, lifestyle-focused set, Pontresina is a more typically Swiss holiday destination. People come here because of the beautiful nature and the original charm of the village. In St. Moritz you can buy luxury handbags in almost every store. Here in Pontresina, people are perfectly happy with the sports shops selling hiking and cross-country skiing equipment.

A view of the Grand Hotel Kronenhof from the surrounding snowy alps

LUX: What changes have you brought in under your management?

CL: When I took over the management in 2023, I decided to get closer to the guests and help them discover the beautiful landscape surrounding the Grand Hotel Kronenhof.

Read more: Umberta Beretta on the artists and philanthropists of Venice

As a local who grew up here, I know the best spots, and I regularly take guests out on excursions. Every Friday at dusk, for example, I take guests to the Val Bever for wildlife watching. It’s a different, authentic way to experience the Engadin valley.

LUX: Is summer in the Alps becoming more appealing for more people?

Hotel Kronenhof’s neo-Baroque Grand Restaurant, dating back to 1872

CL: Yes, summer in the Alps has so many advantages, not least the very mild, comfortable temperatures, especially compared to southern Europe at that time of year. It’s never crowded and wonderfully relaxed. Autumn is also a personal favourite of mine. During foliage season the forest takes on a golden glow and it’s quite something. We are one of the only five-star properties in the area to stay open in autumn, and we’re seeing more and more bookings and returning guests who have discovered the special allure of this time of year.

LUX: There are lots of luxury chain hotels opening now in the Alps. How is the Kronenhof able to compete?

CL: Well, I’m pretty sure it comes down to the uniqueness of the place itself, one of the oldest and most beautiful “Belle Époque” structures in the Alps, in a perfect location with breathtaking mountain views. That’s very hard to replicate. And then there’s the service element too. We strive for excellence, but we also look for personality in our staff. There has to be room for individuality.

A view of the alps from the lobby lounge

LUX: Is discreet luxury going to be lost with the rise of the social media generation?

CL: Not really. We’re actually seeing quite the opposite here. Guests come to disconnect and rediscover more analogue pleasures. For example, once guests are in-house, we prefer to communicate through handwritten notes. It’s a small detail, but it’s becoming an increasingly rare one.

Read more: Bentley by LUNAZ review

LUX: What is your exact favourite moment of the day, week, month and year to have a drink in your bar and what would you drink?

CL: My daily schedule doesn’t often allow me to wind down at work and have a drink. On my day off I usually enjoy simple beer or a good red wine.

kronenhof.com