Aggressive, hedonistic and seductive – often in the span of the same song – the independent LA-based singer-songwriter spans shoegaze, vaporwave and capital-P pop

From Los Angeles via Virginia
Recommended if you like PinkPantheress, Kylie Minogue, Daniel Lopatin’s Chuck Person alias
Up next Album She Comes from Nowhere, released 20 June

Neggy Gemmy has quietly spent the past decade building one of the strongest catalogues in underground pop. Born Lindsey French – and previously known as Negative Gemini – Neggy Gemmy’s music spans coldwave, shoegaze, trance, vaporwave and capital-P pop; her records can be icily aggressive or hedonistic and seductive, often in the span of the same song. Although her work is always distinctive, she’s also canny with iconoclastic references. On 2016’s Body Work, she sampled Britney Spears’ Everytime one song before her own masterpiece of emotional desolation, the breakbeat ballad You Never Knew; the highlight from her underrated 2023 club odyssey CBD Reiki Moonbeam, titled On the Floor, sounds like – and, in a just world, would have been – a 2000s Kylie Minogue single. French’s forthcoming album She Comes from Nowhere still foregrounds her distinctive voice, which can be both breathy and appealingly harsh, but it also incorporates touches of gauzy, gallic bands such as Stereolab and Air, adding appealing new textures to her work.

As an R&B star in the 00s, the singer found herself pitted in the media against artists like Beyoncé and Rihanna. Two decades on, she’s building bonds with a new generation of stars – and going viral with a gravity-defying chair trick

Backstage at April’s Coachella festival, beyond the influencers, branded content and celebrity PDAs, a viral moment was brewing. R&B superstar Ciara was dancing on a chair – not just any dance, but a gravity-defying move that involved laying stomach-first on the chair’s back, arms locked, feet wiggling to the music. She wasn’t alone either; friends Cara Delevingne, Victoria Monét and Megan Thee Stallion were all doing the move too. The soundtrack was Ecstasy, the sultry new single from Ciara’s forthcoming eighth album, CiCi. The dance became a trend on TikTok, with even a 75-year-old grandma from Miami successfully giving it a go.

When I suggest trying it in our interview, Ciara’s face lights up with enthusiasm. “You can do it,” she says, her American optimism making me believe she’s right. “What kind of chair are you sitting on right now?” I show her my cheap Ikea number and her enthusiasm dips somewhat. She’s sitting in the back of a plush-looking car at a New York airport, waiting to fly to Atlanta, her phone held close to her face so she can see better. It’s not the chair I’m worried about, I tell her, but my general fitness. “You do need a little strength in your arms,” she says, sitting back as if to say: “Let’s not risk it.”

Royal Albert Hall, London
The social media star allies her virtuosity in pieces written for her by Kristina Arakelyan and Max Richter with movie soundtracks and an infectiously winning enthusiasm

The Henry Willis organ – 70ft high, 65ft wide, with 9,999 pipes – has long been the criminally underused centrepiece of the Royal Albert Hall, but it has finally found someone big enough to bring it to life. Anna Lapwood, the venue’s first ever official organist, might be a slight 5ft 3in but the so-called “TikTok organist” – with more than 2m social media followers – is charismatic enough to sell out a midweek gig and have a packed hall eating out of her hand.

Tonight she and her organ battle with the Philharmonia Orchestra and Chorus, under the baton of the ever adventurous German conductor André de Ridder. Lapwood’s obsession with film soundtracks could suggest a rather glib populism – she even apologises for starting with a Hans Zimmer theme from The Da Vinci Code (“I don’t know why it made me cry, it’s not even a very good film”) and encores with a solo arrangement of a throwaway theme from How to Train Your Dragon. But the rest of the show has heft. Saint Saëns’ third symphony, probably the most famous piece for organ and orchestra, takes up most of the second half, while a suite from Zimmer’s Interstellar soundtrack shifts the organ-heavy themes into hypnotic, Philip Glass-like territory.

The Auschwitz Memorial has created the model ‘to provide the industry with credible resources’, but it raises ethical questions over what type of films could be set there

The Auschwitz Memorial has launched a “historically accurate” digital replica of the former concentration camp for filmmakers to set their pictures in, breaking a long-held taboo around shooting features at the grounds where an estimated 1.1 million people were murdered by the Nazi regime.

At the Cannes film festival on Thursday, he organisers of the Picture from Auschwitz project said they have harnessed “cutting-edge 3D scanning technologies” to build a digital model of the concentration camp that matches the site in its current state “down to every single brick”.

Minerva theatre, Chichester
Mark Addy plays the Bunyanesque everyman whose trip to the postbox becomes a spiritual journey set to glorious foot-stomping songs

There is nothing like impending death to concentrate the mind on life. Certainly not for Harold Fry, the Bunyanesque modern-day everyman who goes out to post a letter to his terminally ill, long-lost friend and ends up hiking 500 miles to say goodbye to her in person.

Harold (Mark Addy), middle-aged and mournful, leaves his Devon home and his distant, disenchanted wife, Maureen (Jenna Russell), to go to the post office. But he is inspired by a petrol station attendant (Sharon Rose, twinkling as Garage Girl) to begin his secular pilgrimage to the Berwick-upon-Tweed hospice where Queenie (Amy Booth-Steel) lies dying.

From dominatrix divas to sauna bros and the ‘Viking Jedward’ – plus maybe even Céline Dion – there’s something for everyone at this year’s Eurovision. Bring on the innuendo!

Pomp and pageantry. People from different nations wearing camp costumes. A tense buildup before the winner is announced. But enough of the papal conclave. It’s time for May’s other main event: the Eurovision song contest.

The eccentric extravaganza’s 69th edition – expect that number to be the subject of cheap innuendo – is being held in Basel, Switzerland. An audience of 160 million is expected to tune in for the usual heady mix of geopolitical point-scoring, cheesy sentiment and surreal performances.

★★★★☆ / ★★★★★
The Hepworth Wakefield
Chadwick’s work ranges across media, from molten chocolate to tonsils and intestines, while Walker’s attentive paintings depict maternal pleasure and pain. Both offer startling insight into women’s lives

You’d be hard pressed to find a more alluring opening to a show than this: a bubbling pool consisting of 800kg of molten milk chocolate oozing seductively, filling the gallery with a sweet aroma and a soft, steady gurgling. On the walls brightly coloured, circular photographs of orchids, gerberas, sweet peas and chrysanthemums repeat the circular shape of the chocolate pool.

But for artist Helen Chadwick – whose Life Pleasures show at the Hepworth Wakefield is the largest retrospective of her work – pleasure is never that far from pain. It is not long before that thick, gloopy chocolate starts to smell sickly, the scent overwhelming the senses; the mechanism inside making the liquid bubble artificially. On closer inspection, the petals in the photographs are suspended in a variety of less pleasant liquids – industrial hand cleaner, window spray, washing up liquid – and the suggestive shapes of tonsils, testes and vaginas begin to emerge.

The Welsh novelist’s third novel, set on a Scottish island during the Highland Clearances, has won £10,000 for writing that ‘best evokes the spirit of a place’

Clear by Carys Davies has won this year’s Ondaatje prize for writing that “best evokes the spirit of a place”.

The Welsh novelist’s third novel is set on a Scottish island during the Highland Clearances, and follows two men as they form an unlikely bond. On winning the £10,000 award, Davies gave particular thanks to the Faroese linguist Jakob Jakobsen, as his dictionary of the now-extinct Shetland language, first published in 1908, was an invaluable source when she was writing.

Barbican Hall, London
Starry conductor Gustavo Dudamel’s appearance with the London Symphony Orchestra saw Strauss and Ravel given explosive power but limited depth

Launching a concert with Strauss’s Don Juan makes quite a statement: those madcap opening seconds, the music scrambling from the bottom of the orchestra in a bravura sweep before blooming into an irresistibly cavalier and heroic melody. It seemed a very Gustavo Dudamel way for the starry conductor to begin his first London appearance with the London Symphony Orchestra, after concerts in Spain last week.

Dudamel drove the music hard and fast: it was full of firework explosions that dissolved into sparkling blurs of light. On one level it was thrilling. On another, it soon began to feel a little narrow. Dudamel let the brightest moments scythe through the texture – an ear-splitting glockenspiel, a brief but brazen trumpet solo – and yet the general orchestral sound was so thickly blended as to be almost homogenised. There was little sense of the music bubbling with detail, and a limited depth to the sound.