Tate Modern

There’s nothing more tedious than having to listen to someone tell you about their dreams. So it’s amazing that this is at the heart of one of the most popular art movements in history: surrealism. You already know plenty about the genre. Started in 1920s Paris, surrealism wanted to break down the layers of rationalism, consciousness and politeness that were swaddling society. Magritte, Dali, Breton et al did that by letting their inner lives out, by allowing the subconscious to become conscious through painting, poetry, films, novels and actions that celebrated the weird, the uncanny and, yep, the surreal. But it wasn’t confined to Paris. Surrealism spread all over the world, and that’s what this show’s about. It’s organised around places. There are rooms about Egypt’s Art and Liberty group, Mexico’s Los Contemporáneos and the artists working in the Caribbean. But there are also rooms about automatism, reason, collective identity and dreams. There’s a Joan Miró from the 1960s, a Picasso from the 1920s, there are photos and magazines and books. Essentially, it’s a huge, broad, overwhelming mess of a show. There are some big names here, like Magritte and de Chirico, but this isn’t really about them There are some big names here, like Magritte and de Chirico, but this isn’t really about them. It’s about international artists, and some of them are brilliant. Yamashita Kikuji’s ‘Deification of a Soldier’ is brutal, horrifying, dark and stunning; Hector Hyppolite’s flat, colourfu

This major retrospective of the Slovakian artist's work concentrates on her output from 1960s onwards, when she first started making plaster sculptures by pouring the liquid into rubber balloons. She would then shape it either by hand or by submerging it in water, resulting in a series of beautifully delicate sculptures that often look like egg shells, spiders’ webs or birds’ nests. The artist also liked to photograph her creations in natural settings, highlighting their connection to the rural landscape. Summary: gorgeous, one-of-a-kind art by an artist deserving greater recognition. 

Paul Cézanne is one of the true giants of art history. His loose, radical, obsessive approach to painting paved the way for modernism and abstraction, and continues to shape art today. This huge, ambitious show promises to look at every aspect of his varied career, from his still lifes, his bather paintings and his repeated return to his native Aix-en-Provence to paint Mont Sainte Victoire over and over again. Beautiful, revolutionary art. 

Magdalena Abakanowicz’s ‘Abkans’ are massive woven sculptures that look like the type of bizarre, organic creation you’d expect to discover buried in the deepest reaches of a rain forest. Made in the 60s and 70s, the ‘Abkans’ cemented the artist’s reputation - as well they should’ve, because these towering, raw shapes are absolutely brilliant. And, as luck would have it, you can see a whole load of them in Tate Modern’s huge Blavatnik Building this Autumn. If that wasn’t reason enough to go, they’re also showing some of the Polish artist’s other large-scale works, including ‘War Games’, sculptures making use of felled tree trunks.