Guess who now has a Chris Ofili on his wall? David Lammy, our newish arts minister. Lucky Lammy, because Ofilis do not come cheap. Lammy, who presents the Turner prize tomorrow, has borrowed Afro Lunar Lovers for his office from the government’s art collection.

So, how much did the government pay for it? It won’t say, arguing that this would break the “confidential” arrangement between dealer, artist and buyer.

But hang on, what about the public interest? The government’s art fund is paid for by taxpayers.

Galleries such as the Tate, itself funded by public money, are also slow, if not reluctant, to disclose what they spend.

Odd, then, that the Tate chairman, Paul Myners, a successful businessman, was quoted in 2001 in The Guardian, which he now happens to chair, as saying: “Empires and monarchies have all collapsed where there has been a lack of openness. It’s a form of soft corruption which encourages an outcry against them.”

• On Friday week, there is an important test concerning the prices paid by public bodies for art. Matthew Davis, a journalist, wanted to find out how much the National Maritime Museum forked out for a sculpture by Conrad Shawcross. He asked under the Freedom of Information Act, but was refused.

  The case now goes before an independent tribunal. If it favours the reporter, then all galleries will find it much harder to brush off future inquiries as “confidential”.

• The culture department is sitting on a report into the Arts Council, prepared over the summer by a committee headed by Genista Mackintosh, a former executive director of the National Theatre. Apparently, the report criticises the way the council is run.

  This will be music to the ears of the culture secretary, Tessa Jowell. She fumed last December when the council, chaired by Christopher Frayling, publicly criticised the new three-year financial deal for the arts.

  Jowell got even angrier when Frayling slammed the government for trying to “micromanage” the Arts Council. Since then, the usually talkative Frayling has been remarkably silent.

  Caryl Churchill has suddenly withdrawn the rights for the theatre to stage a revival of her Cloud Nine in February as part of the half-century celebrations. Over the past 25 years, she’s been the Court’s most prolific writer, with a remarkable 15 productions, including Top Girls, Serious Money and, in 2002, A Number, with Michael Gambon. The Court now has a hole to fill at pretty shortish notice.