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Skye Arundhati Thomas
Skye Arundhati Thomas is co-editor of The White Review.

Articles Available Online


Interview with Bani Abidi

Interview

Issue No. 33

Skye Arundhati Thomas

Interview

Issue No. 33

In the three-minute short Mangoes (1999) by Berlin-based Pakistani artist Bani Abidi, two women sit next to each other on a white table, each with...

Art Review

February 2019

Simryn Gill, Soft Tissue

Skye Arundhati Thomas

Art Review

February 2019

I walked into Simryn Gill’s exhibition SOFT TISSUE at Jhaveri Contemporary on one of the worst days of an...

Cast as the ‘savage, ugly’ part in the Popular Mechanics live show, Necrorealists were radical artists in their own right, practicing film, painting, photography and performance They were exclusively young men who appeared to be suffering from a collective breakdown Their public drunkenness, brawling and unchannelled energies invited chaos Dressed in medical smocks, army issue long johns and earflap caps (the outfit of the provincial surplus store) Necrorealists differed from ordinary citizens, not in breaking the rules of socialist living, but in following those rules according to their own obtuse interpretations Under the dismal fog of Leningrad’s northern marsh, this unstable rabble of loiterers, boiler-room attendants, medical orderlies and technical students pursued a grotesque existence which led them first into idiocy and then into a kind of absurd death   Necrorealism was never a large-scale movement, but it greatly puzzled the Komsomol and other institutions responsible for youth welfare Necrorealists were dysfunctional and asocial, but they could not be accused of promoting Western lifestyles like the earlier Bitniki and Stilyagi subcultures Nor did they seem capable of organising conspiratorial activities Their disinterest in political matters was unwavering, and it was not easy to distinguish a ‘real’ Necro-performance from the general eccentricity spreading amongst the urban populus in the aftermath of Brezhnev’s leadership Even the Necro ideologue, Evgeny Yufit, admitted that he was engaged in several years of ‘wild and pointless’ activity before realising that it constituted a bona fide worldview   This formative period of clown-like hooliganism took place in the courtyards and hallways of communal apartments, on suburban trains and in the fetid swamps and forests beyond Leningrad’s industrial sprawl Here, the Necrorealists would churn up the rotten soil in frenzied battle charges and mass fist fights The participants at these events were at first barely acquainted with each other, coming together for the sole purpose of expending their pent-up energy   To the public, these formative Necro-performances must have raised disturbing questions about the young men involved In a 1989 television broadcast on Leningrad’s The Fifth Wheel, the same programme that would host the Lenin-Mushroom lecture two years later, a team of psychiatrists

Contributor

February 2018

Skye Arundhati Thomas

Contributor

February 2018

Skye Arundhati Thomas is co-editor of The White Review.

Bani Abidi & Naeem Mohaiemen, I wish to let you fall out of my hands (Chapter 1)

Art Review

February 2018

Skye Arundhati Thomas

Art Review

February 2018

Loneliness is mostly narrative. It also has an aesthetic: an empty tableau in which the lonely act is performed. In Naeem Mohaiemen’s Tripoli Cancelled...
The characters in We That Are Young reside at ‘The Farm’ – a sprawling house in New Delhi complete with its own topiary of fat peacocks, bulbous pink flowers with English names, Fendi furniture, and a room in which it snows at the press of a button It’s not far removed from reality – Antilla, the world’s first billion-dollar residence for a single family of four, is a 40-storey building that towers over the suburbs of South Mumbai, replete with a staff of over 600 people, its own electrical power grid, ten-storey parking for a collection of unusable vintage cars, and a room, of course, where it snows on demand In dialogue with Shakespeare’s King Lear, Taneja’s debut novel explores the lives of a family that owns a multinational conglomerate, ‘The Company’, to which each character’s fate (and inheritance) is inextricably tied We have our patriarch, the Lear figure, Devraj; his three daughters Sita, Radha and Gargi; and his right-hand man Ranjit’s two sons, Jeet and Jivan The embarrassment of riches makes for an irresistible, if outlandish, setting; Taneja vividly indulges our intrigue in the way the rich conduct their daily lives, letting her words ooze out their luxury – filthy, yet so desirable After a particularly gruesome scene in which Radha administers the plucking out of a man’s eyes, she steps back into her suite and calls for a pot of first flush Assam, and rose macaroons   A reinterpretation of Shakespeare is the perfect postcolonial conquest: he remains the epitome of the Western canon, patriarchal, and repeatedly failing to include representations of the ‘other’ without recourse to parody Mainstream appropriations of Shakespeare in South Asia, such as Bollywood filmmaker Vishal Bharadwaj’s trilogy Maqbool (Macbeth), Omkara (Othello), and Haider (Hamlet), have generally taken us to rural settings, wherein tragedy is relegated to a matter of the lower castes Taneja, a Shakespearean academic and human rights activist, eschews such stereotypes, and goes straight for the jugular: the innate hypocrisy of the Indian class and caste system ‘It’s not about land, it’s about money,’ states the first line of the book, taking
Preti Taneja’s ‘We That Are Young’

Book Review

October 2017

Skye Arundhati Thomas


READ NEXT

fiction

May 2016

See Inside for Holiday Special

Joanna Quinn

fiction

May 2016

We are not tourists. We are journalists. We fly out from Heathrow, Bristol, Glasgow and Newcastle to foreign airports...

feature

November 2014

Every Night is Like a Disco: Iraq 2003

Paul Currion

feature

November 2014

That day at Kassim’s, there was no music. There was almost no sound at all, not even the echoes...

fiction

July 2012

Whatever Happened To Harold Absalon?

Simon Okotie

fiction

July 2012

1. The hotel lobby was both cleansed and fragrant, as was the receptionist speaking softly on the phone behind...

 

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