The exhibition spans several decades of work from one of the most restless and unclassifiable artists of his generation. From the 1960s, when Morley provoked New York’s art scene with deadpan paintings of banal cruise liners taken from travel brochures, to the late 1990s, when critic Katy Siegel, writing in Artforum, likened him to “a rock icon who neglected to die young or burn out”. In 1964, unable to paint the vast cargo ships visible from his Hudson River studio, Morley reached for a postcard instead – cutting it into squares and copying each one onto a scaled-up gridded canvas. What began as a pragmatic solution accidentally launched a movement: Photorealism, as it came to be known, was hailed by critics as a development as significant as the differences between Abstract Expressionism, Pop, and Minimalism. Morley, who preferred the term Super Realism, had already moved on. “As soon as a movement is named,” he said, “you know it's over.” That restlessness had deep roots. Born in London in 1931, Morley endured a fractured wartime childhood, time in prison, and an unlikely transformation – inspired by a novel about Van Gogh – into one of the most technically inventive painters of his era. Once freed, he trained at the Royal College of Art alongside Frank Auerbach and Peter Blake, and emigrated to New York in 1958, where he found his footing in a city whose energy matched his own. Success, when it came, was shadowed by self-destruction – punching collectors, slashing sold canvases, arriving at a Paris auction with a water pistol loaded with red paint. Psychoanalysis, undertaken later in life, helped him trace it all back to a childhood in which safety was constantly under threat. Morley went on to win the 1984 Turner Prize – the first ever awarded – recognised by then as an artist who had already reinvented himself several times over. Yet beneath all the restless stylistic shifts ran a single unbroken thread. What looks like nostalgia is, as Jonathan Griffin writes, something more complicated: an artist’s “lifelong attempt to hold and reconcile the shattered pieces of himself.” A booklet accompanying the exhibition, with an essay by Jonathan Griffin, will be available in the exhibition. We look forward to welcoming you.