Joe Lycett’s new book is a hilarious display of his celebrity portraits and the “salacious stories” behind them

Joe Lycett has published a new book – Joe Lycett’s Art Hole. It’s a hilarious collection of portraits featuring the nations most loved and reviled celebs – Harry Styles, Robert Peston, Nadine Dorries to Jacob Rees Mogg, to name a few – all realised in the artist’s iconic style. The publications “astonishing array of British cultural titans” is accompanied by a series of tongue-in-cheek essays that’ll make you chuckle even more. From previously shining a spotlight on UK politics, our great sewage problem, environmentalism and more, this new book of Lycett’s is made for those that love all things art, celebrities and (of course) thinly veiled sarcasm. “It is sure to delight, fascinate and perhaps even inspire you to pick up a paint brush, insert yourself at the heart of contemporary British public life, and do some absolutely wank paintings of celebs,” says Joe.

To celebrate the book’s release today, Joe Lycett will be taking the most treasured portrait from the collection, and the inspiration for the book itself, the Mona Lisa Scott Lee (a visionary blending of Leonardo Da Vinci’s masterpiece and the Steps singer) on tour. The seminal painting (which has just been found after being dramatically stolen) has been promised to grace the walls of prestigious art spaces across the country in its nationwide tour, beginning at the National Portrait Gallery in London today. Lycett says: “This is undoubtedly one of my best works and definitely the greatest painting of the 21st Century. Make no bones about it — this is a huge cultural moment; a seismic shift in what we know to be true about art. If you don’t like the Mona Lisa Scott Lee – sorry, you’re wrong.” Fans are encouraged to visit the portrait they can before it end up in Birmingham Museum’s Art Gallery for an extended stay.

Below is an extract from Art Hole in which Joe Lycett explains the story behind his infamous portrait of Harry Styles:

You would think that, given the publicity and status afforded me after Harry Styles purchased one of my paintings, I would be immensely grateful to him. But alas, the snivelling little worm ended up ruining my home. It all began with a portrait of him done by David Hockney – an artist who is revered by the art world but, from what I can tell, is just some bloke with an iPad. I have often had my work compared to his, which I don’t understand because I don’t do my paintings on an iPad because I lost the Apple Pencil down the side of the seat in a Toyota Prius. “I wasn’t really aware of his celebrity then, he was just another person who came to the studio,” Hockney said, lying to Vogue France. His immortalisation of young Mr Styles was apparently done over a couple of days at his studio in Normandy, and now appears in the National Portrait Gallery in London. On arrival, the portrait was widely condemned.

Weeks later, I was contacted by management for Harry Styles asking whether I would consider improving Hockney’s portrait as it wasn’t going down well on social media. I said that I didn’t really know of Harry’s celebrity, but I would google him and have a go. I hung up and immediately did my version of the painting in literally about three minutes on a bit of paper I got out of the printer, and all I really did was change his head so it looked like an egg. I was pleased with the results and put the painting on Instagram (short for Instant Gramicidin, a form of antibiotic).

The next day I went to the toilet (as is my right) and, while sat there dropping the kids (turds) off at (into) the pool (toilet water), noticed I had received an Instagram direct message from Mr Styles himself. He wanted to buy the painting and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse (a year’s supply of Diptyque candles). He asked that I not disclose the real amount to the public as he didn’t want to be seen pushing Diptyque, so I told the public the painting had been sold for £6 and a Kit Kat Chunky Peanut butter. Soon after, Harry announced his own range of candles under his Pleasing brand, so I suspect he didn’t feel he should be associated with a rival company. Little did I know that the year’s supply of candles amounted to nearly five thousand units, which were delivered in one go. The pallets took up so much space that I was forced to abandon my home while I tried to flog the candles on Vinted. I got rid of the lot, but I’ve been unable to clear the residual smell of sandalwood, which is overwhelming and inflames my sinuses, so I have moved back in with my parents for the foreseeable future.