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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...

Big Edie Beale, sitting bare-shouldered on the terrace, puts on her eyeglasses The camera – manned by Albert Maysles – follows Big Edie’s line of sight across a mass of unkempt trees, to a stretch of ocean in the near distance The camera pans back, and finds three ginger cats, half-asleep in the sunlight Big Edie speaks throughout – her voice is captured via tape recorder, manned by Albert’s brother, David Maysles ‘That is a beautiful ocean today What colour would you say that is, sapphire? I’ve never seen anything like that ocean, the 50 years I’ve been here’ Big Edie calls for her daughter, Little Edie, who steps onto the terrace, wearing a black headscarf and swimming suit A conversation develops about a cheque owed to Brooks, the gardener, who has been given the Sisyphean task of trimming the jungle-like grounds It quickly escalates: ‘I suppose I won’t get out of here until she dies or I die’, Little Edie says, ‘I don’t like it I like freedom’ ‘Well’, Big Edie retorts, ‘you can’t have it’   This was Grey Gardens: a derelict mansion in the East Hamptons, lived in by the former socialites ‘Big’ Edith Bouvier Beale and her daughter, ‘Little’ Edith Bouvier Beale In 1975, the Maysles brothers shot a feature-length documentary about the Beales, also titled Grey Gardens The first time I watched it, I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing: the house’s vine-wrecked facades, the raccoons in the attic, the litter-strewn and cat-filled bedrooms are shocking, their decrepitude only accentuated by the Beales’ apparent indifference towards it Throughout the documentary’s 95 minutes, fierce arguments between mother and daughter bubble, erupt, and recede, seeming to have no lasting impact They perpetually recycle decades of family lore – about failed relationships, missed career opportunities, long-standing grudges – the exact details of which I could only guess at Initially, the Beales’ interminable arguments were suffocating to listen to But on subsequent viewings my ear attuned to their conversational rhythm and to the drawl of their Mid-Atlantic accents, which seesaw

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...

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poetry

February 2014

Promenade & Dinner: Two Poems

Joe Dunthorne

poetry

February 2014

Promenade I was pursued by an immersive theatre troupe two of whom lay on the textured paving and performed...

Prize Entry

April 2015

Les Archives du Coeur

Paul McQuade

Prize Entry

April 2015

The bike wheels skit and bounce on the loose dirt path. The smell of hot rubber and the smell...

Interview

Issue No. 2

Interview with William Boyd

Jacques Testard

Tristan Summerscale

Interview

Issue No. 2

On a wet, grey morning in March, William Boyd invited us into a large terraced house, half-way between the...

 

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