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Rose McLaren

Rose McLaren is an artist in London.



Articles Available Online


Talk Into My Bullet Hole

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July 2015

Rose McLaren

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July 2015

‘Someday people are going to read about you in a story or a poem. Will you describe yourself for those people?’ ‘Oh, I don’t...

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May 2014

Art Does Not Know a Beyond: On Karl Ove Knausgaard

Rose McLaren

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May 2014

Karl Ove Knausgaard’s My Struggle has an oddly medieval form: a cycle, composed of six auto-biographical books about the...

At around midday on 19 July, Koray Türkay boarded a bus in Istanbul and set off for the Syrian border He was among a group of about 200 people going to help rebuild the devastated town of Kobani, whose Kurdish defenders had defied a four-month siege by the so-called ‘Islamic State’   The volunteers had been drawn together through a media campaign ‘Together we supported it, together we’ll rebuild it,’ was the slogan of the Federation of Socialist Youth Associations Those who signed up were mainly young, and almost all leftists; most were strangers meeting for the first time Despite the sixteen-hour overnight journey, there was a buzz of excitement when the group arrived for breakfast at a cultural centre in the border town of Suruç the following morning They had brought books, clothing, toys for children, all paid for out of their own pockets Their plan was to plant trees, start a library, and build a playground Türkay, a bespectacled gymnastics teacher with close-cropped hair and a goatee, was to conduct gym sessions with Kobani’s children At 40, he was older than most of the others and had come alone, but felt in good company The group prepared breakfast with food they provided themselves – cheese, bread, melons, olives – sharing and clearing the meal in an atmosphere of quiet industriousness and anticipation   After breakfast, he and the other volunteers posed for a group photo behind a large banner, waving the socialist youth group’s red-starred flag, and listening to speeches by the organisers Türkay went to the front to take pictures on his phone Somewhere on the right in the background of his images is the blurry figure of a young man who was carrying a pack of explosives Another video shows the moment he detonated his device: a snap of light like the sudden striking of a match, and the packed crowd simply evaporates   Two weeks later, speaking in a hoarse whisper from his hospital bed, a white sheet covering his shattered limbs, Türkay told me what set him on the road towards Suruç It was something that had begun years

Contributor

August 2014

Rose McLaren

Contributor

August 2014

Rose McLaren is an artist in London.

The Prosaic Sublime of Béla Tarr

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Issue No. 6

Rose McLaren

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Issue No. 6

I have to recognise it’s cosmical; the shit is cosmical. It’s not just social, it’s not just ontological, it’s really huge. And that’s why we...
Stalker, Writer or Professor? Geoff Dyer's Zona and Genre

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February 2012

Rose McLaren

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February 2012

‘So what kind of a writer am I, reduced to writing a summary of a film?’ wonders Geoff Dyer half way through Zona. Such...

READ NEXT

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January 2015

'Every object must occupy ...'

Herta Müller

TR. Philip Boehm

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January 2015

I’d like to introduce you to a book, an impressive book that no one read when it first came...

Prize Entry

April 2017

A JOURNEY THROUGH ☆ FAMOUS ☆ BY ♫ 'KANYE WEST' ♫

Liam Cagney

Prize Entry

April 2017

A twilit bedroom. Silence. Ceiling view of the base of a hyper-extended bed—the length of a catwalk. Slow pan...

Interview

Issue No. 3

Interview with Elmgreen & Dragset

Ben Hunter

Nicholas Shorvon

Interview

Issue No. 3

Michael Elmgreen and Ingar Dragset are among the most innovative, subversive and wickedly funny contemporary artists at work, or...

 

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