Salman Toor’s Someone Like You exhibition makes intimacy feel monumental. Opening at London’s Courtauld on October 2, the first solo exhibition in Europe of the New York-based painter brings queer South Asian lives into conversation with the old-master tradition that shaped his eye. Its power comes from scale of feeling, not spectacle.

The Guardian’s interview with Toor. The Courtauld’s exhibition page establish the show’s October dates, setting. place in the artist’s European story.

Why the Courtauld is the right setting

The Courtauld is a museum of intense looking. The collection connects with artists who changed how modern viewers understand color, light, gesture, and everyday life. Toor’s work enters that environment with a different history, but not a lesser ambition. His paintings ask how contemporary people can occupy the space of art history without having to disguise themselves as its past.

That question is especially alive in a gallery known for Manet, Rubens, Van Dyck. other painters whose influence remains visible in the canon. Toor does not simply borrow their compositions. He tests what happens when Toor redirects their visual languages toward brown. Queer, urban protagonists whose lives are intimate, social, and unfinished.

The exhibition’s cultural importance sits within RUNWAY’s entity hub, where art, fashion, identity. public life meet through the way people look at one another.

Toor’s figures live between memory and invention

Toor’s paintings often feel like scenes remembered from a night out. A friend’s apartment, a bar, or a city street that has become emotionally charged. Yet the figures are not presented as documentary subjects. Toor imagines and rearranges them, then gives them the strange freedom of fiction.

That mixture gives the work its tenderness. The viewer is not asked to consume someone else’s private life as evidence. Instead, the painting creates a world in which friendship, desire, loneliness, humor, and self-invention can coexist. Toor lets the characters remain stylish, vulnerable, funny, and occasionally opaque.

Their opacity matters. Contemporary portraiture often feels pressured to explain itself immediately. Toor lets the image keep some secrets. A gesture, a glance, a room, or a crop of clothing can carry the atmosphere of a story without resolving it.

Emerald color becomes a social space

Toor is known for his distinctive green palette, which can make the figures appear to exist inside a shared atmosphere. Emerald and absinthe tones do more than create a visual signature. They alter the emotional temperature of the scene. Skin, clothing, walls, and night can begin to belong to the same imaginative weather.

That color allows intimacy to become spatial. The viewer is not only looking at a person; the viewer is entering a world that has its own light. The effect can be lush, comic, seductive, or slightly unsettled. It resists the idea that representation must be plain to be honest.

The palette also gives the paintings a relationship to fashion. Clothing becomes a social language inside the image. A sleeveless shirt, a braided hairstyle, a pair of trousers. Or a flash of jewelry can tell the viewer how a character wants viewers to see them without reducing that character to appearance.

The connection between visual culture and daily pleasure also appears in RUNWAY’s culture. Dining coverage, where places become meaningful through the identities and rituals people bring into them.

Old masters without obedience

Toor’s dialogue with European painting is not an attempt to ask permission. He takes what he needs: composition, color, the intimacy of a bar scene. The theatricality of a group, the particular charge of a figure looking back. Then he moves those tools into a contemporary world.

That relocation is a form of critique, but it is also a form of pleasure. The paintings do not approach art history only to expose its exclusions. They enter it with appetite. The figures deserve the same visual richness once reserved for aristocrats. Mythic heroes, or anonymous modern subjects that critics once treated as universal.

Toor’s work insists that contemporary brown and queer lives can be both specific. Universal without flattening them into a lesson. The paintings are political because of whom they center. they remain paintings first: full of ambiguity, rhythm, color, and desire.

The exhibition’s emotional intelligence

The most affecting quality of Someone Like You may be its emotional intelligence. Toor understands that visibility is not always the same as intimacy. A figure can be present in an image. Still remain unseen if the painting gives the viewer only a category.

Toor gives his subjects interior weather. They look as though they have histories beyond the frame. They may be at a party, but the painting can hold the loneliness that arrives in the middle of a crowded room. A character may receive an embrace, but the image can still leave space for uncertainty. This is where the work becomes larger than representation as a slogan.

The figures do not need to perform resilience at every moment. They can be glamorous, awkward, desirous, bored, playful, or simply there. That ordinariness is radical because it refuses the demand that marginalized subjects justify their place through exceptional suffering.

Why the show belongs to this autumn

The exhibition opens during a season when London’s cultural calendar is full of conversations about memory, identity. the institutions that shape public taste. Toor’s work adds a particularly vivid voice because it makes those subjects feel embodied. The paintings do not discuss belonging from a distance; they place bodies, clothes, rooms, and glances inside the question.

That is why the Courtauld setting changes the reading. A painting can be moving anywhere, but in a historical gallery it becomes part of a longer argument about who gets to be monumental. Toor does not need to paint a monument. He can make a quiet encounter feel worthy of one.

Visitors should allow time for that quietness. The show is not best approached as a checklist of identity or influence. It is better understood through the relationships between figures, color, architecture. the moments that seem to continue after the frame ends.

A different idea of grandeur

Salman Toor’s Someone Like You makes a persuasive case for a contemporary grandeur built from intimacy. The paintings are not grand because they depict power. They are grand because they take ordinary emotional life seriously enough to give it color, composition, and historical room.

That generosity is the exhibition’s lasting gift. It lets viewers see queer South Asian protagonists not as symbols placed into a museum. as people inhabiting an imaginative world with its own pleasures and contradictions. The old masters remain in the background, but the present is no longer asking to stand outside the frame.

The show also asks viewers to reconsider the word “contemporary.” Toor’s subjects use the visual language of now—nightlife, streetwear, friendship, flirtation. the charged anonymity of a big city—but the paintings are never trapped by the news cycle. Their contemporary quality comes from attention. The figures feel current because they can remain complicated, not because the work announces a trend.

That distinction gives the exhibition unusual staying power. A visitor may arrive through an interest in queer art, South Asian representation. Or the history of painting, then find the work opening into questions about friendship, style, migration. the private theater of recognition. The paintings reward that movement between subjects because they were built from it.

The exhibition’s relationship to public life also resonates with RUNWAY’s culture coverage. Where a destination becomes meaningful through the rituals. Identities people bring into it.

At the Courtauld, Salman Toor makes the personal feel expansive. Someone Like You does not turn intimacy into a spectacle. It gives intimacy the dignity of sustained attention—and lets that attention glow.