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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...

https://soundcloudcom/user-856373367/the-rake-packs-up-his-troubles The Rake packs up his troubles in an old kit-bag and smiles, smiles, smiles   Holding things, I found, was holding me up So nowadays I’m mostly empty- handed, bearing nothing but the stitched shoulder strap to this, my dashing hell- for-leather holdall — the mark of a life spent all over These last few years or so, I’ve gathered nothing that would make it stretch or crack Nothing That’s what made it stretch and crack all over: these last few years Or so I’ve gathered, for leather holds all the marks of a life spent with shoulders strapped to this, my dashing hell Hunted, baring nothing, I’ve been stitched up so nowadays I’m mostly empty, holding things I found were holding me       https://soundcloudcom/user-856373367/the-rake-invites-you-to-the-weepies The Rake invites you to the weepies   Don’t be lugubrious, my newest friend Bite lugubrious Roll it around, and roll around in it  Take a dive in its lubricious, bleak lagoon, lukewarm and wallowsome Drink deep and swoon The salt will lift you like a vast and sudden futon, a waterbed, luxurious and soft and overfed, the kind they advertise   in why-oh-widescreen at the multiplex The eyeless ushers mutter unless   unless Shush The trailers are my favourite bit It’s dark in here Can you remember where we wandered in from? Good Forget about it while I brush this popcorn from your hair       https://soundcloudcom/user-856373367/the-rakes-apology The Rake’s apology   Darling, let me lay it at your feet, blinking and soft, a helpless little wolfcub huddled inside a gingham picnic-basket on a cold night, on your doorstep, the fog a clean slate, no sign of the coming flurry, the never-ending blizzard Do not worry Though it may break things, let it be your dog Snowed in, you’ll feed it steak tartare and brisket, its licked-clean bowl the colour of false love, of the ice outside the window, of its teeth

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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feature

February 2014

Only Responsible to Their Art: Heilan and the Chinese Avant-Garde

Chen Wei

TR. Tu Qiang

feature

February 2014

Heilan was established for a simple reason: over the past twenty years, there has not emerged a single medium...

feature

September 2014

The Mediatisation of Contemporary Writing

Nick Thurston

feature

September 2014

Trying to figure out what marks contemporary literature as contemporary is a deceptively complicated job because the concept of...

Interview

January 2015

Interview with Rodrigo Rey Rosa

Scott Esposito

Interview

January 2015

Instructions: Take the high modernist and early postmodernist experimentalism of Argentines Jorge Luis Borges and Adolfo Bioy Casares. Move...

 

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