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Tausif Noor
Tausif Noor is a critic and doctoral student at the University of California Berkeley, where he studies modern and contemporary art history. His writing on art, literature, and visual culture appears in Artforum, frieze, The Nation, The New York Times and other venues, as well as in artist catalogues and various edited volumes.

Articles Available Online


Devil in the Detail: on Leesa Gazi’s ‘Hellfire’

Book Review

July 2021

Tausif Noor

Book Review

July 2021

British-Bangladeshi novelist Tahmima Anam’s debut A Golden Age (2007) tracks the early stirrings of revolution in East Bengal from the 1950s to the climax...

Art Review

May 2019

Simone Fattal, Works and Days

Tausif Noor

Art Review

May 2019

For the last five decades, Simone Fattal has produced works that refract the particularities of the present vis-à-vis a...

Several months ago, I went to a salon so small and so identikit that I do not recall the name, and against every sane friend’s advice, had my real fingernails drilled down to nothing for the sake of having longer, obviously artificial nails installed The effect was simultaneously intoxicating, and impractical I re-learned how to type; relied, reluctantly, on male help in the workplace and at home to perform mundane tasks like opening cans and buttoning blouses I did not remember ever thinking that my hands had looked more beautiful, less like my hands They were like a celebrity’s; an artwork After two months, unable to afford maintenance, I had the nails removed Cut necessarily down to the quick, my fingernails now made my fingers look like toes, artless and blunt I could no longer regard my hands and think, as one is meant to after leaving an appointment at a salon, that I did not fully recognise them There was no distance, no transformation   Nail salons and hairdressers specialise in modifying the literally live-dead parts of human bodies; those that grow after we die, but do not bleed if cut More often than not, the live-dead parts being modified belong to women, who are not unused to being seen as an admixture of desirable-or-undesirable bodily fragments, rather than as whole This is especially true for famous women, whose live and live-dead parts are familiar enough to us, after such long exposure, to behave like semaphore; to signify a thing beside themselves In a promotional release for Live Dead World, a new show by the artist Gabriele Beveridge, an image appeared on Seventeen Gallery’s website Folded over on each other, pages from women’s high-fashion magazines – fluid and smooth, held in place by two or three rubber bands – made an abstract, feminine composite out of girl-eyes, girl-lips, and faded, indistinct girl-faces There, located front and centre, was Britney Spears’s mouth, a logo as distinctive as a Coca Cola bottle It is peculiar, and a little eerie, that although it’s possible I may not recognise my own mouth in a

Contributor

March 2018

Tausif Noor

Contributor

March 2018

Tausif Noor is a critic and doctoral student at the University of California Berkeley, where he studies modern and contemporary art...

INTERVIEW WITH ANAND PATWARDHAN

Art Review

July 2018

Tausif Noor

Art Review

July 2018

By the late 1990s a right wing government in the shape of a BJP-Shiv Sena alliance had come to power for the first time...
Danh Vo, Take My Breath Away

Art Review

April 2018

Tausif Noor

Art Review

April 2018

‘When you love, you are nailed to the cross,’ says a character in Rainer Fassbinder’s film In a Year of 13 Moons (1978). In...

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fiction

March 2017

A Table is a Table

Peter Bichsel

TR. Lydia Davis

fiction

March 2017

I want to tell a story about an old man, a man who no longer says a word, has...

fiction

January 2014

The Black Lake

Hella S. Haasse

TR. Ina Rilke

fiction

January 2014

Oeroeg was my friend. When I think back on my childhood and adolescence, an image of Oeroeg invariably rises...

poetry

September 2015

She-dog & Wrong

Natalia Litvinova

TR. Daniela Camozzi

poetry

September 2015

She-dog   He wrote to tell me his dog had died. I wanted to be her, I wanted him...

 

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