The New Décor, a group themed show around the notion of interior design, is spread leisurely around the ground floor. I always have mixed feelings about themed group shows, and this is no exception — the overall effect can be very disparate and you often leave feeling a little disappointed. I tried to like The New Décor, but it just didn’t excite me. Much of the work, like the interior décor it mimics, feels hollow and devoid of emotion. Interior design feels like a rather staid subject for an exhibition, particularly in a venue like the Hayward. I felt like I was walking through an alternate universe IKEA, but not in a particularly positive way.

There were some exceptions of course — Jin Shi’s “1/2 Life” is beautiful and tragic at the same time, provoking mixed feelings of wonder and sadness as you imagine a human living in his 0.5 scale living quarters. Meticulously executed, almost doll-house like, you can only imagine what life must be like at its true human scale.

Tatiana Trouvé’s troubled domestic environment suggests events beyond the life of the installation. Clinically clean surfaces and fittings are, on closer inspection, disturbed and disrupted by burn marks of unknown origin. There is a narrative here, and one for our making. Not quite the domestic bliss of our first encounter with this piece. Intriguing.

I loved Jimmie Durham’s “Imbissstammtisch” if only for its playfulness — you’ll wait for the punchline and then move on. His piece “Close it” is similarly amusing, holding the viewer close to the cabinet door as they attempt to work out whether something or someone is either hiding inside, or is being deliberately incarcerated.

Other pieces, such as the chandeliers, are pleasing as objects, ironically overachieving as works of interior décor. It’s an interesting show, but I can’t help but feel that the re-opening of the Hayward deserved something a little more exciting. Perhaps a walk up those lovely concrete stairs…

So in the spirit of experimentation I’ve been playing to these strengths, and my favourite application by far is ShakeItPhoto, an instant photo application which does a pretty good job of getting it right, right down to the sound of the photo being ejected from the camera. Here are some examples, all taken as I wander around south London.

I’ve become a little addicted to taking ‘roids with my iPhone, and when I’m not using my Lumix LX3 for “serious” images, I take a break and have some fun with the iPhone. I love the square format, the over-saturated colours and the lack of sophistication, perfect for these kinds of photographs. Great fun.

If you’re passion is documentary and reportage photography then this is an exhibition you should see — Goldberg’s Open See explores the lives of some of Europe, Asia and Africa’s millions of displaced people and migrant communities. From Bangladesh to Ukraine and India, his eclectic mix of large-format photography, video pieces and Polaroid images brings to the fore the daily struggles of the men, women and children of countries who seem to have been forgotten by the western world.

Distressing in places, uplifting in others, the mix of media, words and image plays beautifully with the tempered calm of the Photographer’s Gallery. It’s a disquieting feeling drinking your decaf latté as you ponder the words of 12 year-old girls trafficked into prostitution, of men tortured by the Taliban, and of countless other stories of bodies and minds taken to places beyond our worst nightmares.

Goldberg’s photography and image-making is excellent, and you can’t help but wonder at his composition and timing — the formats chosen are prefect for their subjects, and allow them to speak loudly and colourfully of their hopes and dreams, whatever they have endured. Excellent.

In his first major UK exhibition for 18 years we are taken gently through his body of work since his first piece in 1967. The black and white photographs with beautifully hand-rendered type, the carefully annotated maps detailing geometric journeys crossing contours made real, and the centrepiece stone works set out in the large central space. For the typographical fetishists, of which I include myself here, there is type everywhere, from the minute hand-rendered lettering of the earlier pieces to the giant site-specific wording of the more contemporary pieces. Gill Sans dominates and evokes thoughts of classic information design of the 30s and 40s, of wartime posters and pamphlets — “Heaven and Earth” is a well travelled exhibit, but has a distinctly British flavour to it. New site-specific pieces are sewn throughout, bringing the outside in and involving the very fabric of the Tate.

Long’s work reminds me of a simpler time when I dreamed of art that connected directly to the world around us — you can’t help but feel that fantastic 60’s optimism in almost everything that he produces. It transports me back to those yellowed book pages full of black and white images of work by Smithson and Oppenheim, which I pored over for hours in the art college library. Maybe this is why he comes in for so much criticism — his work sits somewhat uncomfortably in these cynical days of production line pieces and an English art market so dependent on the chequebooks of a few London dealers. His refusal to join the auction-led frenzy cannot have made him many contemporary friends, evidenced by some rather bitter reviews of this show, but his core audience is still with him.

Is his work too comfortable? Possibly. Has he trodden the same literal path for the majority of his career? Undoubtedly. An idealist? Of course, and he’s a better artist for it. Long sees the world around us in a beautifully uncomplicated manner, and in this increasingly volatile world his work will only achieve greater relevance to anyone looking to understand how we can reconnect with it. He might just become a man of our times after all.

Ultimately I find his work just so satisfying, I don’t want him to change for anyone. I can’t imagine for a minute that he wants to either.

From her stuffed toys and inflatable body parts, to her delicately arranged sparrows with their knitted bonnets, there is much to enjoy and intrigue here. My favourite piece from the show, Casino, was a very relaxing diversion — the gently undulating red fabric was mesmerising and I sat in the darkness and happily experienced the show a few times.

After Messager you should head upstairs the excellent The Russian Linesman — this show has been curated by Mark Wallinger and it’s another feast for your eyes. There’s some pretty diverse content here, and you’ll have great fun playing around with the different forms and media. Wallinger’s giant TARDIS dominates the main room, but there are videos and books, and strange little pieces of rock, and even a series of stereoscopic images set into the wall. Video of the famous tighrope walk between the World Trade Center Towers sits opposite Albrecht Dürer’s illustrations, and around the corner a series of Ronald Searle ink drawings from the Death Railway.

Aernout Mik’s footage from the former Yugoslavia is disturbing in its banality. Using extensive filmed sequences which were never used by the news channels, he reduces the actions of conflict to everyday moments as common as shopping or taking the rubbish out. Houses burn as soldiers sleep in the shade, bullet-riddled bodies are retrieved from the river, and snipers smoke cigarettes in between the occasional shot at some distant enemy. Everything is just so calm, so normal, so dull, so everyday, you have to keep reminding yourself that you’re watching footage of a brutal conflict — it makes it all the more morbidly fascinating.

Two excellent shows to get those little grey cells working again.

My new camera has given me an entirely new and energetic attitude to my photography and I’m finding myself taking it everywhere with me, bringing it out at a moment’s notice as I spot a form I like, a colour combination that strikes me, or simply the texture of an area of concrete. The stairwell below struck me as the lighting was beautiful and discrete, edging the forms delicately in yellow. The concrete itself has that wonderful texture of the Hayward Gallery walls, I can’t help but run my fingers over it.

I spotted this solitary cloud, edged in red, as I walked around the concrete maze of the National Theatre. It was there for a couple of minutes as the sun rapidly set over London and I quickly picked off this shot. There is very little post-processing in this shot, only a tweak of the levels to boost the contrast and colour. For about fifteen minutes the entire Southbank was bathed in a huge array of colours and I ran around shooting fast and loose. The new camera is just perfect for this type of photography, it just oozes ways to experiment and play.

For more in this series of shots, and other photographs taken with my new camera, head over to my Flickr page.

I’m loving the black and white modes and most of my shots have involved playing around with them. Here are a couple of shots of my friends Pete and Chris taken at lunch yesterday — the camera has picked up a wonderful range of textures and tones. The colour modes are great too and there’s a wealth of settings and customisations, I’ll be experimenting with this for long time, it’s such a pleasure to use. It even shoots in RAW.

I’ve been really enjoying getting back into photography — it’s been very inspiring and I’m starting to get a real kick out of it. I love working with my Nikon D80 but I can’t take it everywhere as it’s just too bulky and heavy. That’s where my LX3 comes in — I can take it everywhere with me and I hardly even notice it’s there.

It’ll be perfect for my upcoming rail trip to Marrakech in March.

I was never one for working from home, far too many distractions — I need places with noise and colour, people moving around me and sounds drifting by, and I need good coffee and sweet snacks to feed the beast. Over the years I’ve found many places which can satisfy these needs, and these are my favourites.

ICA Bar, The Mall, London — I’ve spent the past 15 years visiting the ICA, for DJ nights and talks, performances and late night drinks with friends. Best of all I’ve spent many hours sitting by the window, watching the comings and goings and letting my mind wander happily to interesting places. See some art, have a coffee, chat to friends, enjoy.

Lillipep (formerly Rodko), El Born, Barcelona — A wonderful discovery on my trip to Barcelona in February, Lillipep is just a perfect coffee shop. Books everywhere, local art on the walls, great music and a wonderful modern medieval chic feel to it — I spent a lot of time here in July, thinking, drawing, planning and enjoying their excellent coffee.

Chai Wallah’s, Big Chill, Eastnor Castle — My first port of call the morning after the night before at the Big Chill for the last few years. Chai Wallah’s is an Eastnor institution. Foregoing my usual coffee for a cup of chai, delivered in a hand-thrown ceramic tea bowl, became one of the highpoints of my days at the festival. I spent hours here, reading and relaxing.

Tate Modern Member’s Bar, Southbank, London — One of my regular London haunts, not for the faint-hearted at the weekend where it gets absolutely mobbed and can be unbearable. During the week it transforms into an oasis of calm. Get a seat overlooking the Thames and St. Paul’s and get writing. The coffee’s good too.

Palais de Tokyo, Trocadéro, Paris — I love this place, I always make my way to it whenever I’m in Paris. Sitting next to the cool-but-straight Musée d’Art Moderne, the Palais is the absolute opposite — the plaster’s been stripped from the walls and the art mingles with graffiti and skateboarders. Grab a coffee and enjoy the mayhem.

Munson’s, South Ealing, London — My little bubble of sanity just down the road. A little coffee shop and deli, these guys know how to make a fine latte and the food is very good too. I’ve sat in here many a time setting the creative world to rights with my friends — half an hour in here and everything comes together again, beautifully.

Santa Caterina Market, El Born, Barcelona — The mayhem of this food market is utterly addictive, the smells, the sounds, the colours, the movement — you sit with your coffee and it all happens around you. I’ve often started my day here — the coffee is delicious and you feel like a proper native as people come and go on their way to work.

Riverside Studios, Hammersmith, London — I rediscovered the studios this year after a long absence and they have become the place I go with my sketchbook and laptop. It’s an active and working studio with the buzz of recording sessions going on around you, an exhibition space next to the café and an excellent riverside terrace for summer brainstorming sessions.

La Renaissance, The Rocks, Sydney — Three years living in Sydney meant that I needed a few places to seek inspiration. This little patisserie had the most beautiful garden set back from the street in the middle of a dense collection of buildings. I spent many afternoons sunning myself amongst the trees with a sketchbook, tucking into one of their gorgeous crème brûlées.

Classic Image Café Gallery, Chiswick, London — This unassuming little coffee shop has become part of my life in the last few years. I’ve become entirely addicted to the latkes and smoked salmon and they do the best coffee in Chiswick. Inspiration flows freely for me here — I can often be found tapping away on my laptop or working through the pages of my sketchbook.

The first thing that hit us was the fumes. I felt like I was getting high within a couple of minutes of hitting the tunnel — there were only two or three groups working the walls but the pieces were fairly large and we arrived as one of them was being finished. The pieces created for the Cans Festival have pretty much gone now — the turnover looks to be almost non-stop but there is still some excellent work here.

As you know I’m a big fan of stencil work and there’s loads of good pieces here — great to see lots of stencilled copy and a real attention to detail in the more complex work. Shame some of it’s been obscured by the tags already but that’s the nature of this place. It’s be nice to single out and protect the best work but that cuts the open-source nature of it all. Got to take the rough with the smooth I guess.

There’s paint everywhere — on the walls, the ceilings, the floor and the locked doors. It’s painted over the lights and on the railings, the pillars are covered and even the CCTV cameras are not safe. After being there only a few minutes you get the urge to just grab a can and add something of your own.

I’m not sure if Leake Street will continue like this — get down there before Lambeth Council decides to paint over it all and spoil all our fun. Recommended.

An exhibition regarding architecture at the Hayward was always going to be contentious. The Hayward already makes a unique architectural statement — to ask pieces to coexist with this already overtly controversial structure seems a little odd. Wouldn’t a simple structure such as a warehouse be a better environment? Concerns aside, what was the work like?

Those expecting a bold vision of Rachel Whiteread may be a little disappointed — in veering away from her commentaries on space, occupation and containment, she adds a layer of sentimentality which I found a little disconcerting. Her collection of doll’s houses offers a very personal opinion on architecture, but I have to admit it left me a little cold.

Ironically Do Ho Suh, in his beautifully fragile piece “Staircase-V, 2003/04/08″ manages to deal with precisely the themes we’ve come to expect from Whiteread. I found it incredibly difficult not to touch this piece, it has an amazing sense of negative space. I found myself wanting to explore its forms, to move within its spaces even though I knew I couldn’t. Perhaps with this piece Do Ho Suh has outdone Whiteread on her own turf. Powerful stuff, I found it very inspiring.

Ernesto Neto’s delicate piece, “Life Fog Frog… Fog Frog, 2008″, is beautiful but could have been so much more. Like Do Ho Suh’s work, you want to reach out to it — whilst it succeeds in evoking some wonderfully delicate organic structures, it fails to engage fully without that interaction. Architecture is personal interaction with space, made real with use of form and matter. Well, that’s the way I’ve always seen it.

I finished my tour with Mike Nelson’s piece “To the memory of H. P. Lovecraft, 1999, 2008″. Stepping through the doors to the scene of mayhem and destruction beyond, I couldn’t help but laugh. In ripping apart the exhibition space Nelson uses the very fabric of the Hayward to remove us temporarily from the entire experience. I found it liberating and very amusing.

Of course the ultimate winner will always be the Hayward itself — every time I visit this gallery, and I have been a regular for almost 20 years now, I feel the need to touch the beautifully rendered concrete of the stairwells and walls, to feel the gentle wood grained surface which is always at the same cool temperature. It’s an amazing environment, an oasis of peace and tranquillity in the centre of one of the world’s most intense cities.