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prensa: The sensational sarah lucas

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She has remained endearingly constant in her irreverence in the decades after, never losing her partialness to a bit of smut. “I probably haven’t changed much,” she confirms, sitting in her studio. “I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.”  Grey hair loose, large eyes beaming, Lucas is wearing a blue striped shirt with red bra poking out, trainers with neon-green socks and some extravagantly customised, patchworked jeans, which once belonged to her partner, the photographer Julian Simmons (“until he got fat”). Her workspace is a former village hall she took over a few years ago; until then, she worked solely at home, a few miles away, in the cottage formerly owned by Benjamin Britten that she shares with Simmons.