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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...

We’ve been quarantined in the school gym for three weeks when we realise just how much we’ve forgotten Not just about the inseminations, the mysterious stomach-swelling sickness that spread like chicken pox at Elmwood last fall, but everything, way back We make a list, chalk the outlines:   The name of the fourth grade teacher we loved, with the soccer cleats and hair like notebook spirals; the names of boys, their smell; the quadratic formula; what our knees look like   Our mothers visit and they ask, again and again, how could you forget? How could your brain just slide over something as monumental as losing your virginity? Some of you are in National Honours Society Some of you play the oboe/viola/bassoon   When Riley arrives in the gym — late because no one realised she was hiding a baby under that pear shape — she brings reports from the outside ‘Everyone is talking about us,’ she says, awed ‘Our parents are on TV’   She’s smuggled in an issue of Time, with our school portraits tic-tac-toed across the cover We crowd to read it, almost tear the pages we’re so eager Lila Hanson was Miss Teen Indiana and her talent was public speaking: a performance of Yeats in a dress sequined and feathered, to flaps of applause She rips the magazine from our hands and stands on a stack of aerobics steps to read:   “‘Half the honour roll The entire starting squad of the basketball team Why have twenty-three students at Terre Haute’s Elmwood High School fallen pregnant this year? Ed Coolers reports from Indiana’s Gomorrah of Underage Sex”‘   We swear to our mothers we didn’t have sex We sit with them on the bleachers and down the slope of the drained pool, squeeze their hands and vow we’re telling the truth We show them the chastity contracts we signed in health class, the ones they laminated and made us keep in our wallets like drivers’ permits We show them the promise rings our dads gave us, at a ceremony in a banquet hall with Styrofoam Greek columns and napkins folded like swans   Our mothers look back at us as

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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Interview

Issue No. 10

Interview with Jacques Rancière

Rye Dag Holmboe

Interview

Issue No. 10

Jacques Rancière came into prominence in 1968 when, under the auspices of his teacher Louis Althusser, he contributed to...

poetry

Issue No. 3

On an NY Balcony

Adrian Dannatt

poetry

Issue No. 3

Too much of my life so far has depended upon dressing-gowns, Some sort of ‘string-theory’ tied by myself wax-thumbed...

Interview

January 2017

Interview with David Thomson

Leo Robson

Interview

January 2017

David Thomson — the author of dozens of books, including an account of Scott’s expedition to the Antarctic and...

 

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