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Robert Assaye
Robert Assaye is a writer and critic living in London.

Articles Available Online


Issy Wood, When You I Feel

Art Review

December 2017

Robert Assaye

Art Review

December 2017

At the centre of Issy Wood’s solo exhibition at Carlos/Ishikawa is a room-within-a room. The division of the gallery into two viewing spaces –...

Art

April 2017

'Learning from Athens'

Robert Assaye

Art

April 2017

The history of Documenta, a quinquennial contemporary art exhibition founded in the German city of Kassel in 1955, is...

INTERMISSION   She stabilised She started dying and then stopped My brother said her aneurysm had sealed       stuck   between a kidney and her spine with no place for blood to leak I’m on the way out         she kept saying to friends and family daring them to say she wasn’t Perky       almost belligerent   It was always hard for her to feel valued Her combative talk was more loving than sugary words   She was surprised how many people wanted to speak to her       say goodbye see her one more time       weak as she was   people who never cried started weeping on the phone she cheered them up with bedside gossip          tell me       how many men        did your mother           sleep with       really?   I held my mobile to her ear so she could chat with my daughter in Colombia   a grandson in Barcelona another in Palestine and her sister-in-law   in a bad way too who said in her soft voice I shall follow you soon     THE BUS TO SOLITUDE   I ask the driver to tell me when we reach Schloss Solitude I don’t speak German   I did once       my mum knew it she took a mini-gap-year in Germany 1937 why on earth did her parents send her there then or was it Berne       why didn’t I ask?   German for me was one of those paths not taken I’ve mostly forgotten       except the sound some grammar       a few songs   but the driver seems to say that when we get to Solitude I’ll know and of course there’s a sliding screen   with Next Before and After clearly marked in rolling surtitles like Stations of the Cross We bowl through the streets of Stuttgart   the road begins to climb through a deciduous muddle of forest coming into full green foil each leaf jumping out of bud   a promise my mother will never see again          burgeoning  she used to say       with a grin at the fancy word   We are on a mountain with a castle on the summit       like the story she loved as a child       I have her copy there will be mines below       a princess   who has to be kept safe from underworld goblins plotting to flood the mines and take over the kingdom   and a winding stair       leading to a secret chamber where magic will take place on its own terms which appear to other people as an empty

Contributor

August 2014

Robert Assaye

Contributor

August 2014

Robert Assaye is a writer and critic living in London.

New Communities

Art

January 2017

Robert Assaye

Art

January 2017

DeviantArt is the world’s ‘largest online community of artists and art-lovers’ and its thirteenth largest social network. Its forty million members contribute to a...
The Land Art of Julie Brook

Art

Issue No. 4

Robert Assaye

Art

Issue No. 4

Julie Brook works with the land. Over the past twenty years she has lived and worked in a succession of inhospitable locations, creating sculptures...

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poetry

October 2013

Steam

Jon Stone

poetry

October 2013

Steam in the changing rooms, stripping off after the race, breathes like an engine. The air is filled up...

fiction

January 2016

By the River

Esther Kinsky

TR. Martin Chalmers

fiction

January 2016

  For Aljoscha   ST LAWRENCE SEAWAY   Under my finger the map, this quiet pale blue of the...

fiction

September 2016

Colonel Lágrimas

Carlos Fonseca

TR. Megan McDowell

fiction

September 2016

The colonel must be looked at from up close. We have to approach him, get near enough to be...

 

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