The weather in London is so horrible this evening that the Last Art Show is simply inconceivable. It is stormy. Dark clouds race overhead. The wind whistles and howls all the time. It rains intermittently. It is difficult to imagine starting a fire under these conditions, let alone sustaining it with meager offerings of art. If one were superstitious, one would think of God as an irate artist bent on stealing the show. And keeping things as they are.