Born to Tunisian parents, eL Seed spent his formative years in the suburbs of Paris juggling different cultures, languages, and identities. He channeled these experiences into a form of artistic expression that blends Arabic calligraphy with graffiti - creating a modern art style called Calligraffiti.
Born, bred and finely tuned in Cambridge amongst iconic art teachers who believed in their students, including Sanderson, he has become a popular and sought after commissioned sculptor, but of course he doesn't care about this. He cares about what's going on within the mind of his client. Within the intention of the brief with a question of how, oh how, could the idea add light to the land?
If you have some collateral, that doesn't mean you shouldn't invest. And I may have a solution for you - dealing in modern art and vintage late twentieth-century furniture. You may think this is the reserve of the posh and rich. But, as a one-time working-class lad from East London, I can tell you it absolutely is not.
"In Belfast in the early '70s things were tricky. When I asked my local green grocer if I could do some paintings for his window for Christmas, he paid me in vegetables. The next year when I did the butcher's, he paid me in sausages. By the time I was 13, I realised I had a business. So I started charging."
"I could have done that". The usual utterance when observing a piece of contemporary art. In fact, it's these five words that create the hostility and scepticism towards modern and abstract that we see today. Is this hostility justified? Only if you've got a reason beyond the fact it's within your capabilities.
Ah, Paris! You're oh so beautiful, so romantic, and also, somewhat expensive. The chic boutique hotels, the mouth-watering steak frites, un vin rouge along the Boulevard Saint-Michel - just staying, eating and drinking in the French capital can be a costly experience before you even add on the 'must-see' sights of the city.
But as I walk into the Pavilions, I forget all my troubles, all the hassles getting to Venice, all the constant queues (and my footwear); I am transported into the magic of the Art. All the pavilions are offering something to discover, to receive, to learn from. And that makes me humble and so happy.
As I was sitting at the Buying Committee of the Tate Modern, my eyes were arrested in awe and also complete ignorance by a piece from an artist I did not know about, Monir Shahroudy Farmanfarmaian. I was struck by the strength of her art. The fact that she is a woman working in Iran, in her 80s, made her even more striking.