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DS It’s similar with writing: your audience encounters the finished artefact and they don’t see the journey and the loneliness.

JS I wouldn’t call it loneliness. I enjoy making paintings.

DS I find writing very lonely because I worked for 20 years in fashion. Now, writing in contrast to fashion feels incredibly lonely because I sit around and talk to imaginary people all day.

JS Do you have a routine?

DS I find that imaginary people are chattiest in the mornings, so I try to get up at six o’clock and I work till two or three in the afternoon. How about you?

JS I’ve had different working rhythms and routines in my life. Recently I’ve been getting up about 6.30 in the morning and then I’ll paint until I feel that lull, which tends to be around four, and then I might do another session. I like painting eyes first thing in the morning.

skip past newsletter promotion Sign up to Inside Saturday Free weekly newsletter The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. Enter your email address Sign up Privacy Notice: Newsletters may contain info about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. For more information see our Newsletters may contain info about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. For more information see our Privacy Policy . We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply. after newsletter promotion

View image in fullscreen Jenny Saville’s Ruben’s Flap, 1998-1999. Photograph: © Jenny Saville. Courtesy Gagosian

DS Why is that?

JS Because my concentration’s at its highest, so I tend to paint details like teeth and eyes first thing in the morning, when I’m sharp.

DS One of the things that speaks to me the most about your work is your journey with colour. It has evolved so much. In the early work I can actually feel Glasgow in the paintings.

JS Glasgow can have beautiful light. My first home there was on Hill Street, and you’d look over toward the flats and mountains and see this silvery light. I’ve never seen it anywhere else quite the same way. Over the last few years I’ve thought much more about nature and light. I’d travel, look at other approaches to painting. I went to Paris and New York and saw how [Willem] de Kooning painted flesh and thought: “What great colours and fluidity.” Then after 11 September and the Iraq war, we were flooded with images that had a lot of intense colour and emotion and I responded to the atmosphere of that time. My work evolved and I started using ranges of red and blue pigments, for example, like in my Stare heads. If you’re curious you experiment, and on that journey you discover possibilities.

DS The same in writing. You’ve got to write through it, to free yourself of it, and then get to the thing that you’ve got no idea that you were heading toward. You’re feeling a character and you’re not quite sure what they’re going to do, so you build this world for them and then you see how they react.

View image in fullscreen Jenny Saville’s Chasah, 2020. Photograph: Prudence Cuming Associates Ltd/© Jenny Saville. Courtesy Gagosian

JS It’s been said before, but it’s probably impossible to make the perfect work. I often think: “That’s almost what I meant, that’s got something.” And this moves you forward to the next painting.

DS Truth is essential in writing. And there’s power in writing truths that people would rather leave unsaid – maybe like depicting a body that some might rather not see? I must admit, I was horrified looking back at the journalism around some of your earlier work, and the fact that reviewers would use the word “grotesque” to describe it. Obviously those works haven’t changed, but the world around us keeps shifting, so hopefully reactions have changed as well. Has that journey been interesting to you, or do you not pay attention to it?

JS I just get on with my work. You can’t predict how work will be perceived. And you evolve as well. In the early 90s there were fewer spaces to show, and only a small minority of artists got major platforms. Now art is exhibited from all over the world and different voices are being heard. And then once you’ve been accepted, it’s like, you’ve won the Booker prize, you can’t stay annoyed about that.

DS I felt really overwhelmed by the feeling of being on the outside and nobody knowing me. And then suddenly everybody looked at me like: “Where the hell did you just come from?” There was 15 years of work behind my novels so I hadn’t just arrived, I’d just been quietly over there where no one was paying attention to me. I miss that.

JS It’s important to have time to develop, be playful, use your imagination. I’m often judged on those early degree show works and I’ve developed my painting a lot since then. You have to make the work the way it should be. You can’t make work to appease people who have written a bad review. And if you’re mature about it, the bad review of a new body of work is OK.

View image in fullscreen Jenny Saville’s Aleppo, 2017-18. Photograph: Lucy Dawkins/© Jenny Saville. Courtesy Gagosian

DS That’s very big of you. I’m not sure I’m quite there yet. That’s why the world is so nostalgic for the 90s: a time before the internet, for that sense of being by ourselves inside our own lives, without constant commentary and feedback.

I’m fascinated by what Cy Twombly told you once about working: about trying to be ignored for as long as you can in your career, which is so smart.

JS By the time he’d told me that, everybody wanted to know Cy, to show his work and talk to him. And your impulse is to look at that with admiration, but I could see there was a kind of suffering in his words, because you need to concentrate, you need time to play, and that’s probably why he worked in isolated places, so he could focus. You can’t have judgment when you play. You want to be like that child sitting on the floor making a painting when nobody cares: that’s the most precious thing because it’s a space without judgment, and you need to feel that.

DS You’ve got to retreat from the world. But was your early success overwhelming at 22, or did it just feel like permission?

JS Many opportunities happened in a short space of time. I was fortunate to sell my degree show, which was the first time I had enough money to work for a prolonged period. I had this run of wonderful things happen. And as I moved forward I just said to myself: “Get this work right, make this work the best you can.” I stayed quiet and concentrated. And that’s the lesson I learned: that the prize is the journey. Working and enjoying life’s opportunities with family and friends is the prize.

Jenny Saville: The Anatomy of Painting is at the National Portrait Gallery, London, to 7 September, then tours the Modern Art Museum Fort Worth Texas, from 12 October - 18 January 2026. Douglas Stuart’s next novel, John of John, will be published by Picador on 26 May 2026.
Name: Jeffrey Voorhees.

Age: 62.

Appearance: Just the one.

Occupation: Child actor.

Pretty old for a child actor. He’s a former child actor.

Has he been in anything I would have seen? Jaws.

Wow. Anything else? No, not really.

Oh. Well, Jaws is pretty good. I’ve seen it dozens of times. Jeffrey Voorhees will be pleased to hear that.

Why? Because, despite his very small role as shark victim Alex Kintner when he was 12, Voorhees is still being paid residuals – royalties – 50 years later. Every time Jaws is on TV, he earns money.

Nice work if you can get it. “It pays to die,” is how he put it in a recent interview with Syfy.

Even so, he can’t be pulling in that much after all this time. It’s not just residuals. After hiding from fame for years, Voorhees – who still lives on Martha’s Vineyard, where Jaws was filmed – has found ways to embrace the full earning capacity of his brief turn as victim number two.

How? By attending fan conventions for “£10,000 a time”, selling autographed merch online and making personalised videos on Cameo.

People pay him for that? It helps that Jaws fans are a little obsessive. One woman brought Voorhees an inflatable yellow raft identical to the one on which Alex Kintner met his demise. “She was in tears and I signed the raft for her,” he said.

That sounds more than a little obsessive. He’s even been presented with his old discarded royalty statements – bought by fans on eBay for thousands – to sign. “I don’t throw them away any more,” he said.

Are there any other child actors still raking it in after all these years? Yes, if not to the same extent. Jason Weaver, who provided the singing voice for young Simba in the original animated version of The Lion King, reportedly received, and still receives, far more than the $2m (£1.5m) upfront Disney originally offered him before his mother insisted on a reduced fee plus royalties from soundtrack sales.

Well done, Jason’s mum. Are there any more actors with cameos as brief as Voorhees’? Casey Margolis, who fleetingly played a young version of Jonah Hill’s character in the 2007 film Superbad, recently revealed he’s still getting cheques.

The kid who draws penises on everything? That’s him. While the amounts vary from $10,000 to 12 cents, he reckons he’s collected about $100k (£74,000) in total.

What a racket! How can I get my kid killed in something huge? Actually, that ship has probably sailed. Streaming services don’t tend to pay residuals in the same way, as their content is always available to watch – and young actors have reported receiving minuscule amounts for their work.

Do say: “These eye-watering sums are a symptom of how out of control fan culture has become.”

Don’t say: “You’re gonna need a bigger bank account.”
A furious row is raging over whether the Zambian president, Hakainde Hichilema, will preside over the funeral of his predecessor, Edgar Lungu, as the former president’s family wage a legal battle in South Africa to try to prevent his body from being repatriated.

The legal fight marks the latest twist in a feud between the two men that goes back at least a decade and has now outlasted the former president, who died in South Africa in June aged 68 while being treated for an undisclosed illness.

Mourners had already arrived for a funeral in Johannesburg in June when it was halted by a high court judge after an 11th-hour request by Zambia’s attorney general, Mulilo Kabesha. Lungu’s family said he had specifically requested that Hichilema not attend his funeral.

On 8 August, the Pretoria high court ruled that Lungu’s body could be sent back to Zambia for a state funeral. Lungu’s older sister Bertha broke down, shouting across the courtroom at Kabesha as she was restrained by other relatives.

Lungu’s family then applied for leave to appeal. On Monday, the high court adjourned the case indefinitely while South Africa’s constitutional court decides whether to hear the appeal.

DS It’s similar with writing: your audience encounters the finished artefact and they don’t see the journey and the loneliness.

JS I wouldn’t call it loneliness. I enjoy making paintings.

DS I find writing very lonely because I worked for 20 years in fashion. Now, writing in contrast to fashion feels incredibly lonely because I sit around and talk to imaginary people all day.

JS Do you have a routine?

DS I find that imaginary people are chattiest in the mornings, so I try to get up at six o’clock and I work till two or three in the afternoon. How about you?

JS I’ve had different working rhythms and routines in my life. Recently I’ve been getting up about 6.30 in the morning and then I’ll paint until I feel that lull, which tends to be around four, and then I might do another session. I like painting eyes first thing in the morning.

skip past newsletter promotion Sign up to Inside Saturday Free weekly newsletter The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. Enter your email address Sign up Privacy Notice: Newsletters may contain info about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. For more information see our Newsletters may contain info about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. For more information see our Privacy Policy . We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply. after newsletter promotion

View image in fullscreen Jenny Saville’s Ruben’s Flap, 1998-1999. Photograph: © Jenny Saville. Courtesy Gagosian

DS Why is that?

JS Because my concentration’s at its highest, so I tend to paint details like teeth and eyes first thing in the morning, when I’m sharp.

DS One of the things that speaks to me the most about your work is your journey with colour. It has evolved so much. In the early work I can actually feel Glasgow in the paintings.

JS Glasgow can have beautiful light. My first home there was on Hill Street, and you’d look over toward the flats and mountains and see this silvery light. I’ve never seen it anywhere else quite the same way. Over the last few years I’ve thought much more about nature and light. I’d travel, look at other approaches to painting. I went to Paris and New York and saw how [Willem] de Kooning painted flesh and thought: “What great colours and fluidity.” Then after 11 September and the Iraq war, we were flooded with images that had a lot of intense colour and emotion and I responded to the atmosphere of that time. My work evolved and I started using ranges of red and blue pigments, for example, like in my Stare heads. If you’re curious you experiment, and on that journey you discover possibilities.

DS The same in writing. You’ve got to write through it, to free yourself of it, and then get to the thing that you’ve got no idea that you were heading toward. You’re feeling a character and you’re not quite sure what they’re going to do, so you build this world for them and then you see how they react.

View image in fullscreen Jenny Saville’s Chasah, 2020. Photograph: Prudence Cuming Associates Ltd/© Jenny Saville. Courtesy Gagosian

JS It’s been said before, but it’s probably impossible to make the perfect work. I often think: “That’s almost what I meant, that’s got something.” And this moves you forward to the next painting.

DS Truth is essential in writing. And there’s power in writing truths that people would rather leave unsaid – maybe like depicting a body that some might rather not see? I must admit, I was horrified looking back at the journalism around some of your earlier work, and the fact that reviewers would use the word “grotesque” to describe it. Obviously those works haven’t changed, but the world around us keeps shifting, so hopefully reactions have changed as well. Has that journey been interesting to you, or do you not pay attention to it?

JS I just get on with my work. You can’t predict how work will be perceived. And you evolve as well. In the early 90s there were fewer spaces to show, and only a small minority of artists got major platforms. Now art is exhibited from all over the world and different voices are being heard. And then once you’ve been accepted, it’s like, you’ve won the Booker prize, you can’t stay annoyed about that.

DS I felt really overwhelmed by the feeling of being on the outside and nobody knowing me. And then suddenly everybody looked at me like: “Where the hell did you just come from?” There was 15 years of work behind my novels so I hadn’t just arrived, I’d just been quietly over there where no one was paying attention to me. I miss that.

JS It’s important to have time to develop, be playful, use your imagination. I’m often judged on those early degree show works and I’ve developed my painting a lot since then. You have to make the work the way it should be. You can’t make work to appease people who have written a bad review. And if you’re mature about it, the bad review of a new body of work is OK.

View image in fullscreen Jenny Saville’s Aleppo, 2017-18. Photograph: Lucy Dawkins/© Jenny Saville. Courtesy Gagosian

DS That’s very big of you. I’m not sure I’m quite there yet. That’s why the world is so nostalgic for the 90s: a time before the internet, for that sense of being by ourselves inside our own lives, without constant commentary and feedback.

I’m fascinated by what Cy Twombly told you once about working: about trying to be ignored for as long as you can in your career, which is so smart.

JS By the time he’d told me that, everybody wanted to know Cy, to show his work and talk to him. And your impulse is to look at that with admiration, but I could see there was a kind of suffering in his words, because you need to concentrate, you need time to play, and that’s probably why he worked in isolated places, so he could focus. You can’t have judgment when you play. You want to be like that child sitting on the floor making a painting when nobody cares: that’s the most precious thing because it’s a space without judgment, and you need to feel that.

DS You’ve got to retreat from the world. But was your early success overwhelming at 22, or did it just feel like permission?

JS Many opportunities happened in a short space of time. I was fortunate to sell my degree show, which was the first time I had enough money to work for a prolonged period. I had this run of wonderful things happen. And as I moved forward I just said to myself: “Get this work right, make this work the best you can.” I stayed quiet and concentrated. And that’s the lesson I learned: that the prize is the journey. Working and enjoying life’s opportunities with family and friends is the prize.

Jenny Saville: The Anatomy of Painting is at the National Portrait Gallery, London, to 7 September, then tours the Modern Art Museum Fort Worth Texas, from 12 October - 18 January 2026. Douglas Stuart’s next novel, John of John, will be published by Picador on 26 May 2026.

Name: Jeffrey Voorhees.

Age: 62.

Appearance: Just the one.

Occupation: Child actor.

Pretty old for a child actor. He’s a former child actor.

Has he been in anything I would have seen? Jaws.

Wow. Anything else? No, not really.

Oh. Well, Jaws is pretty good. I’ve seen it dozens of times. Jeffrey Voorhees will be pleased to hear that.

Why? Because, despite his very small role as shark victim Alex Kintner when he was 12, Voorhees is still being paid residuals – royalties – 50 years later. Every time Jaws is on TV, he earns money.

Nice work if you can get it. “It pays to die,” is how he put it in a recent interview with Syfy.

Even so, he can’t be pulling in that much after all this time. It’s not just residuals. After hiding from fame for years, Voorhees – who still lives on Martha’s Vineyard, where Jaws was filmed – has found ways to embrace the full earning capacity of his brief turn as victim number two.

How? By attending fan conventions for “£10,000 a time”, selling autographed merch online and making personalised videos on Cameo.

People pay him for that? It helps that Jaws fans are a little obsessive. One woman brought Voorhees an inflatable yellow raft identical to the one on which Alex Kintner met his demise. “She was in tears and I signed the raft for her,” he said.

That sounds more than a little obsessive. He’s even been presented with his old discarded royalty statements – bought by fans on eBay for thousands – to sign. “I don’t throw them away any more,” he said.

Are there any other child actors still raking it in after all these years? Yes, if not to the same extent. Jason Weaver, who provided the singing voice for young Simba in the original animated version of The Lion King, reportedly received, and still receives, far more than the $2m (£1.5m) upfront Disney originally offered him before his mother insisted on a reduced fee plus royalties from soundtrack sales.

Well done, Jason’s mum. Are there any more actors with cameos as brief as Voorhees’? Casey Margolis, who fleetingly played a young version of Jonah Hill’s character in the 2007 film Superbad, recently revealed he’s still getting cheques.

The kid who draws penises on everything? That’s him. While the amounts vary from $10,000 to 12 cents, he reckons he’s collected about $100k (£74,000) in total.

What a racket! How can I get my kid killed in something huge? Actually, that ship has probably sailed. Streaming services don’t tend to pay residuals in the same way, as their content is always available to watch – and young actors have reported receiving minuscule amounts for their work.

Do say: “These eye-watering sums are a symptom of how out of control fan culture has become.”

Don’t say: “You’re gonna need a bigger bank account.”

A furious row is raging over whether the Zambian president, Hakainde Hichilema, will preside over the funeral of his predecessor, Edgar Lungu, as the former president’s family wage a legal battle in South Africa to try to prevent his body from being repatriated.

The legal fight marks the latest twist in a feud between the two men that goes back at least a decade and has now outlasted the former president, who died in South Africa in June aged 68 while being treated for an undisclosed illness.

Mourners had already arrived for a funeral in Johannesburg in June when it was halted by a high court judge after an 11th-hour request by Zambia’s attorney general, Mulilo Kabesha. Lungu’s family said he had specifically requested that Hichilema not attend his funeral.

On 8 August, the Pretoria high court ruled that Lungu’s body could be sent back to Zambia for a state funeral. Lungu’s older sister Bertha broke down, shouting across the courtroom at Kabesha as she was restrained by other relatives.

Lungu’s family then applied for leave to appeal. On Monday, the high court adjourned the case indefinitely while South Africa’s constitutional court decides whether to hear the appeal.