Nicole Junkermann on Choosing What to See This Autumn
A rich season without a shape is experienced as a series of things missed. On choosing three things and enjoying them properly.

The arts calendar restarts in September with more force than it does in January, and a season entered without a shape is mostly experienced as a list of things missed.
Programmes open, seasons are announced, and a great deal arrives at once after a summer of relative quiet. Nicole Junkermann uses the closing days of August to decide, in advance, what the autumn is actually for, while there is still enough calm to decide anything at all.
A rich season needs a shape
There is always more available than anyone can attend, and the gap between the possible and the actual becomes the dominant impression unless something is decided in advance. That is a joyless way to spend four good months, and it is entirely avoidable.
Three things, done properly
Choose three things to do properly rather than ten to attempt, and treat everything else as background that may or may not be visited. Three is few enough to be enjoyed, remembered and talked about afterwards. The discipline is not in choosing the three but in accepting what the choice implies, which is that a great many worthwhile things will not be seen this autumn.
Depth over coverage
The instinct in a rich season is towards coverage, seeing as much as possible so that nothing important is missed. The opposite instinct is more rewarding. The first visit is largely spent arriving, orienting and forming an impression; the second is where the actual looking happens, because everything else is already done.
What to decide now
The decisions worth making in a quiet week are the ones that become difficult later.
- Which three things matter, named plainly and written down.
- Which recurring hour is protected, booked before the diary fills.
- Where the notes will live, so the question is settled before there is anything to write.
- What will be let go without regret, which is the part most plans skip.
Company changes what you see
A show visited alone and the same show visited with somebody are genuinely different experiences, and both are worth having, but they are rarely planned for separately. First visits suit solitude and second visits suit company: the first is for looking and the second is for talking about what was seen.
Leaving room for the unplanned
September always looks emptier from August than it turns out to be, and a plan built on that emptiness rarely survives its first fortnight. It is better to commit to less than seems reasonable, because the best thing in an arts season is frequently the one nobody planned for. The companion piece, on the last quiet week of August, makes the case for the calm these decisions depend on.
Two exhibitions seen twice each will leave more behind than eight seen once.
Frequently asked questions
How many things should an autumn season contain?
Three done properly rather than ten attempted. Three can be enjoyed, remembered and talked about afterwards, and a longer list is really a decision not to decide.
Why is a second visit better than a first?
Because the first visit is spent arriving, orienting and forming an impression. The second is where the looking happens, since everything else is already done.
Should the autumn be planned completely?
No. September always looks emptier from August than it turns out to be, and the best thing in a season is often the one nobody planned for.



