Anna Kompaniets and Lenka Johanna-Marie are Akleriah, and we love them because they are, in the nicest conceivable way, BAT SHIT mental. Brilliantly so. Admirably so. They have no fear. They wilfully, deliberately unhinge themselves from the normal tropes of public social interaction and couldn’t give a flying poop what you think about them whilst they do it.

Seeing them, in their psychedelic “let them eat glowsticks” renaissance bourgeoisie guise is a visceral shock to the system. It’s like being startled by an electric space jellyfish in the middle of a carpet warehouse. They mock conformity in the sincerest way. To them, clearly, everyone else is trapped in the drab sensibilities of our society.

Having met originally at Goldsmith College, Lenka and Anna have since combined forces to battle with everyone’s perception of what art is and what it should be.

The preparation immediately before a performance is an important, ritualised time. It takes a while to compose the outfits, paint faces and make final considerations on how the installation will be orchestrated. A bottle of red wine is often involved. Rather than preparing on site they prefer to get ready at Anna’s apartment, then travel together by public transport.

The duo share roles amongst themselves and with other collaborators, but Anna tends to handle the visual elements – the clothing and makeup – whilst Lenka concentrates on the choreography of the piece.

The Supreme Conspiracy of Akleriah (Tate Britain).