Bethnal Green to the World: Carrying Nick Fraser’s Story Forward

Searching around Nick’s neck of the woods.

When I head into London to share Nick Fraser’s story, I never quite know what the day will hold. Sometimes it’s warm welcomes and open doors. Other times, it’s polite declines or quiet resistance. But every time, it’s another chance to walk new streets, enter unfamiliar rooms, and keep the conversation alive for an artist who never got to have it in his lifetime.

On Thursday, I arrived at Euston Station just after 11 a.m., armed with a list of galleries to visit, a fresh brochure, business cards, and the same quiet determination that has carried me through the last two years of bringing Nick’s hidden work into the light.

Bethnal Green Beginnings

Just a few steps from Bethnal Green station, I came across Proposition Studios a well-lit, spacious venue that, to my surprise, could easily accommodate even the largest painting from Nick’s collection. At the time, they were showcasing Locus of Voices, a striking exhibition that felt alive with dialogue between the works and the space itself. Standing there, I couldn’t help but imagine how powerful it would be to see one of Nick’s vast canvases breathing in that room. Knowing he would have walked past this very spot on countless occasions made it feel like an unexpectedly personal discovery.

Next stop, Maureen Paley.

From the outside, the gallery was discreet: tinted windows, a small sign, a quiet doorway. Inside, I was greeted by a gentleman who explained that Maureen is both curator and owner, with clients she’s represented for over 40 years. They don’t take new artists on the spot, so the next step would be to follow up via email, sharing more of Nick’s story and work. A polite beginning, but one that required me to keep moving.

A quick stop at The Beehive for an iced coffee led to an unexpected discovery. A small community “one wall gallery” in their downstairs space. It reminded me that art lives in all kinds of places, from high-profile institutions to intimate corners of a local pub.

A little further along, I stumbled upon The Gallery Café at St Margaret’s House. A beautiful, intimate space with a welcoming outdoor area. Inside, the Light and Dark summer exhibition brought together work from 40 artists, creating a rich visual conversation about contrast and coexistence. The atmosphere was calm and communal, the kind of place that values art not just for display, but as a lived part of its environment. I could see how a smaller, thematic selection of Nick’s pieces could feel right at home here, offering visitors the same sense of reflection and connection that the current works inspired.

The Approach Tavern

I’ve had The Approach Tavern on my radar for a while, knowing they have a gallery space upstairs. The man inside explained that it’s highly selective, but offered to pass along my information. A business card left behind and another door.. half-open.. to revisit.

From there, I stopped into Signature Brewery for a pint before heading to one of the day’s best highlights: Auto Italia.

Auto Italia – A Meeting of Stories

Auto Italia is a beautiful, intimate venue with expansive walls — easily able to house Nick’s large-scale canvases. They were hosting “LMK – When You Reach,” an exhibition archiving the people who shape contemporary LGBTQ+ and BIPOC spaces of celebration.

I was greeted warmly by Rachel, who took time to share the gallery’s history. Since 2015, Auto Italia has focused on producing and exhibiting work at the intersection of queer studies and social change. It felt like a meaningful overlap with Nick’s story — his work touches on masculinity, identity, and the quiet weight of a life where he never felt safe to express his sexuality openly.

Chisenhale Gallery – Frustrations and Reflections

Next, I walked to Chisenhale Gallery, a vast and beautifully lit space that seemed perfect for a large-scale exhibition. However, on the day, it held only a single TV screen with four chairs for visitors to sit and watch.

I understand that art comes in many forms, but I couldn’t help thinking how different it felt from Nick’s work, hundreds of paintings, decades in the making, each one a piece of lived experience. When the front desk told me it was “highly unlikely” they’d be interested in his work, I left quickly, frustrated.

It’s hard not to compare. I’ve spent much of this year applying for grants, unsuccessfully. To see such a big, arts council funded space hosting something so minimal, while knowing how difficult it is to get Nick’s powerful body of work seen, is a reminder of the uphill road.

Cycling the Canal to Hoxton

Determined not to dwell on it, I jumped on a Santander bike and cycled along the canal to Hang-Up Gallery in Hoxton. This independent contemporary gallery was a breath of fresh air, light-filled, calm, and inviting. The lady inside listened, offered some suggestions for other galleries worth visiting, and gave me a genuine sense of welcome.

The Evening – Arts Club Networking

After grabbing something to eat, I headed to The Art House for the Working Arts Club summer networking event. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but was greeted by a lively mix of prints, performance, and even a wall full of crisps. It was one of those evenings where not everything makes immediate sense — but it was still part of the creative ecosystem, and every conversation was another thread in the web.

Walking Through Nick’s World

Throughout the day, I kept thinking about Nick. He used to walk these streets, commuting to the Tate & Lyle sugar factory, returning home to the East London flat where he painted in private for more than 30 years.

Now I was here, walking similar routes, telling his story in places he never got to enter. The work isn’t easy. The wins aren’t immediate. But each gallery visit, each conversation, each follow-up email, they’re all part of building the momentum his work deserves.

Closing Thoughts

I didn’t come away with instant exhibition offers. But I came away with something just as important: a handful of promising contacts, some genuine conversations, and the knowledge that the story was shared again, in new rooms, to new ears.

The legacy we’re building for Nick Fraser is about persistence. About walking into spaces, even when you’re unsure how you’ll be received. About telling the story again and again until the right person says: Yes, I see it. Let’s show the world.

And so, I’ll keep walking.