Saturday 11th April 2026
Blog Page 1102

Interview: The Amazons

0

The Amazons as a band have had a few stages to their evolution. Starting as an alternative rock outfit, the loss of their original drummer proved a serious blow to this incarnation. “We were in a creative rut; we were doing a lot of electronic music – it was awful!” But the band took a rapid about-face upon the arrival of a new drummer.

“Basically then we found Joe, he was playing a gig on bass, and we just thought: this guy’s not a bassist. He must be a drummer; just looked it from a mile off! He asked to join our band, we said yes. He had a John Bonham tattoo on his arm and so we were pretty much sold! This was mid-2014 I think; we got in the practice room and started rocking out, and yeah here we are.”

Here being an up-and-coming, alt-rock band; with heavy drums and guitar based melodic songwriting. “But we had this awful teething stage where we were trying to get him to play to a click and a backing track; just awful. So we just thought why don’t we sack all that off and just go back to the guitars.”

Once back to this wellspring; contemporary artists prove to be the more pertinent interests and influences – in particular citing Last Shadow Puppets and Queens of the Stone Age but “it’s fluid; it’s always fluid. There’s not really one band we go back to, it always changes.”

Stuck in the relative provinciality of Reading, touring has proved a formative experience with “numerous adventures to say the least”. They’ve made appearances in London, Brighton, Manchester and even further north to Dunfermline; which was, in his words, “weird and wonderful!”.

With two releases recorded for the next month, videos to come with them, and many other songs in the pipeline, The Amazons have a busy summer ahead – perhaps even venturing to Oxford before the year is out.

Review: My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2 – like microwave moussaka

THREE STARS

My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2 is less a sequel, more a remake of the original 2002 film. Like the original, it’s a mushy rom-com about the Portokalos family organising a wedding. Of course, there were a few plot tweaks to make the trailer seem different. This time, it is Toula’s parents who are getting married, after discovering that their original marriage certificate was missing the priest’s signature. Meanwhile, Toula and Ian are experiencing marital problems, as they struggle to come to terms with their daughter moving away to college.

The film is an easy target for criticism, and its lack of originality is its major flaw. Most rom-coms feature predictable humour, but My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2 literally recycles jokes from the original, including Aunt Voula’s hypochondriac oversharing, Gus’s unreliable etymologies, and the use of Windex to cure all ills. Whilst I am a fan of self-reference and Easter Eggs in sequels, watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2 was rather like watching comedy on Dave – you knew all the punchlines.

I also sensed the writers were too timid in their exploration with potentially controversial topics. Of course, the film was intended to be a light-hearted comedy, and no one would expect it to start Twitter wars to rival ‘Black Hermione’ and ‘Feminist Star Wars’. Still, in an apparent attempt to modernise its plot, the writers included a feeble nod to feminism. Maria runs from the altar to bemoan her role as cook, cleaner, and nurse to Gus – who stands drunk and laughing throughout this rousing speech. The speech was undermined in no time by Maria caving in and marrying ‘the love of her life’. Another update was the revelation that Cousin Angelo – a minor character with fewer than five lines in the whole script – is gay. This detail causes absolutely no tension, threat or discussion. The family accept him with barely a raised eyebrow, giving the impression that he was thrown in so the film could have a token gay character. The writers could not even bring themselves to make Toula and Ian have a proper argument. Their supposed ‘marital problems’ resolved very quickly into candlelit dinners and spontaneous car sex.

One aspect of the film which I did find amusing was its attitude towards ethnicity and culture. Unsurprisingly, the critics condemned the film’s use of stereotypes, with the Guardian review calling it ‘cancerously patronising’. I hate to be exclusive, but I think that a self-conscious British reviewer is more likely to find the film patronising than a Greek person who ‘gets it’. Although I am not Greek, my father was a first generation immigrant from Morocco, and I relish seeing Mediterranean values explored in a light hearted way. Perhaps jokes about moussaka and baklava would get stale sooner for a Greek, but the comedy found in the large overbearing family and their attitudes to marrying an ‘outsider’ really does resonate with my immigrant family. Because Greek immigrant culture is the film’s USP, the film could have explored the character of Paris (Toula’s teenage daughter) far more. As well as being one of the only new characters in a film begging for something fresh, she could have been used to explore the dynamics of third generation immigrants. I just hope that her undeveloped character is not a sign the writers are planning another film. My Big Fat Daughter’s Greek Wedding? I’m cringing already…

Overall, the film fails to match its predecessor, but it is still worth a watch if you see your own family reflected in the Portokalos household. To steal from the film’s hoard of stereotypes, comparing My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2 to its predecessor is like comparing a Tesco microwave moussaka to the real deal – it will satisfy you as much as the original, but will never be as fresh.

A Beginner’s Guide to… I Said Yes

“It’s lovely to be here at Jordan College”. And with that one Philip Pullman-related quip at Exeter College Ball, I was sold on I Said Yes. For my sake, it was a good thing that the band themselves are an excellent outfit.

Rocking an instrumentally diverse lineup which had enough musical variation to elevate their sound above that of their peers, I Said Yes rattled through some crowd-pleasing covers (Taylor Swift, Bruce Springsteen) interspersed amongst their own tracks – tellingly, there was little disparity in quality.

Perusing through their discography, their flurry of 2016 singles as follow ups to their 2013 debut EP is unavoidable, marked in particular by the excellent ‘California’ which served to inject some life into the rather chilly weather of the ball, seasoned with pleasing references to all of American pop culture.

Meanwhile, ‘It Must Be Good’ displays their taste for restrained production and compositional subtlety building up to a rousing final minute, with a quietly impressive lyricism in lines such as “It wasn’t I was trying to be modest / I only thought that speaking was dishonest” and “Silence is the mother of invention / and I haven’t heard a word from you since then”.

In short, I Said Yes, while far from the limelight at this present moment, have the live presence and the pop sensibilities necessary to go far. I’m looking forward to it.

Signing up to the newsletter here get you a free download.

How to start a fashion label

0

Entrepreneur and fashion designer Cecile Reinaud shared her experiences with Oxford girls in the last week of Hilary term as part of the St Edmund Hall celebration of women. Reinaud founded the maternity fashion label Séraphine in 2002 which by now has a £14 million annual turnover and sells on all six continents. Here are the five aspects that turned her startup into a global success story.

1. Experience
Reinaud stresses that while some freshers start businesses that really take off, this is unlikely. Her success is largely due to seven years of experience in the advertising and PR industry. While she encourages young women (and men) to dare to be entrepreneurial, she stresses that it is important to get some experience beforehand.

2. Luck and Hard Work
“Many entrepreneurs will tell you that luck was needed for a successful business”, says Reinaud, but without a lot of hard work these moments of luck cannot happen and be seized appropriately. Séraphine’s luck was that many celebrities fell in love with the label, including Claudia Schiffer, Gwen Stefani, Kate Winslet, Angelina Jolie and most importantly the duchess of Cambridge.

3. Niche
Reinaud founded the label when pregnant colleagues asked her for fashion advice as maternity fashion was a nightmare at the time. She herself had, however, never been pregnant. During her first pregnancy, which followed soon after she founded the company, she designed a number of items that are still bestselling items today. This is, Reinaud explains, because they look great. Her quality check is asking the question: “Would I wear this even if I was not pregnant”. Another reason for the success is that the items are functional. For instance, she invented the jeans with a belly stretch band and a snap closure system for nursing access.

4. Endurance
Like every entrepreneur, Reinaud also faced crises. The first crisis was a personal one, based on the decision to have her first child after just starting the label. While her pregnancy greatly improved the collection, the double stress of having a child and business combined with a post-natal depression were tough. A second problem was the financial crisis. While prices had always been reasonable at Séraphine – “we did not want to be a niche within a niche” – they had to be lowered even further during the crisis. But, luckily, pregnancy is not dependent on the stock exchange, so Séraphine survived.

5. Will to Learn and Collaborate
“How did you acquire the new skills needed for starting this business?” a young woman in the audience wanted to know. Reinaud explained how she knew how to build a brand and brand recognition from her previous job. The designing part had been merely a hobby before. Initially, she employed pattern cutters and tailors on a freelance basis to work with them and learn from them. She emphasises that from the beginning all designs had her signature. Her advice to young entrepreneurs is to be aware of your skills and employ people with complementary skills once you can afford it.

Review: Accidental Death of an Anarchist

1

Dario Fo’s Accidental Death of an Anarchist is undoubtedly a hard piece to produce. Set in the complex political turmoil of Italy’s “Years of Lead,” it was written as an intense, though farcical portrayal of police corruption and brutality during the period. Yet with modern adaptations lacking both the introductory and final discussion acts – as well as audiences wholly familiar with the historical background on which the play is based – Fo’s political comedy has proven hard to translate. With that in mind, it is a huge credit to director Helgi Clayton McClure and his cast that this works so well. Led by the lively and thoroughly excellent James Galvin, and with a noteworthy performance from Richard Grumitt, Accidental Death of an Anarchist is able to deliver genuine comedy without losing sight of the serious underlying themes of the original work.

Much of the play’s success is undoubtedly down to Galvin, whose performance as The Maniac captures and holds attention from the very first scene as he switches through various guises – not to mention poorly adhered false moustaches. The rest of the cast feeds off of his seemingly limitless energy, growing more animated as the play goes on. They are helped by a rock star cameo from the director himself, during which he joins the cast for a passionate rendition of the anthem ‘Nostra Patria è il Mondo Intero’ as an anarchist guitarist. Further amusement is provided by the dim-witted quartet of police inspectors and constables headed by the superb Grumitt as the pompous yet incompetent Superintendent, producing a combination of slapstick and foolishness that serves as a foil to the elegant trickery and enigmatic rhetoric of Galvin’s Maniac.

The production was all the more impressive considering full cast rehearsals only began approximately two weeks before opening. Perhaps this showed in a couple of mistimed lines as the stage become more crowded during the latter half of the last act; these, however, were easily forgotten as the play raced to an action-filled climax of pistols, bombs and pink handcuffs to boot!

All in all, this was a truly enjoyable, if totally bizarre rendition of one of the 20th century’s most engaging dramatic pieces. Well worth a watch!

In defence of pop music

0

As someone who often uses it, it was only recently that I asked myself why Spotify has a private listening feature. In the age where people share everything from baby pictures to bowel movements online, why are we hiding what we listen to? Like all good, and slightly dubious, psychological self-diagnoses, I must return to my childhood. If you opened my wardrobe a few years ago, you would have been confronted with my clandestine collection of posters of various boybands and X-Factor hopefuls. Like many of those contestants, the posters are now long forgotten and probably gathering dust under my bed – but the notion still stands. I was, and to some extent still am, quite literally a closeted pop music fan.

So here it is: I like pop music. Even as I write this, I can hear the distant disapproving tuts of indie music fans, turning up their gramophones to drown me out with a vintage first pressing of a Smiths vinyl I probably haven’t heard of. But please, hear me out. I am not totally oblivious. I know that every beat and overtly auto-tuned note is engineered for my easy consumption. While those with more refined taste consume the musical equivalent of wholewheat bread, initially hard to swallow but ultimately good for you, I am living on ReadyBrek and puréed carrot, bland and easy to digest.

I understand that the appeal of these songs is that they are made to be appealing and that lyrics like “I really really really really really really like you” are hardly Wordsworth, but unless Taylor Swift has moved on from shaming exes to indoctrinating her fans with subliminal satanic messages, I can’t say I see the issue.

I am a humanities student. I spend the majority of my time thinking so deeply about art that even the word ‘Michaelangelo’ induces a migraine, so why can’t I indulge in a little nothingness? Rihanna’s mindnumbingly empty words are, it seems to me, a fitting break from medieval Italian sonnets.

Maybe my music isn’t enlightening or soul-searching, but if it distracts me from all the world’s travesties and tragedies even for just three minutes and 40 seconds, does that really matter?

On top of this, in pop music’s defence, it only becomes pop(ular) because so many people listen to it. In 50 years’ time I guarantee there will be teenagers with vintage iPods listening to Katy Perry’s back catalogue and wondering why they don’t make music so artistically anymore.

In all honesty, although I would still place One Direction albums face down on the counter in HMV for fear of judgement, I have for the most part come to terms with my music taste. My issue, however, is with those who cannot tolerate my choice.

We are a more accepting society than ever and, for example, if I were to go outside wearing nothing but an old piece of stained carpet I would be considered “edgy,” “so brave” or “like, totally indie.” And yet I still get disparaging comments when I use the Official Top 40 as my revision music, whilst my messenger is clogged up with links to obscure neo-punk bands that will convert me to the indie agenda. Please, go back to your record shops and intimate gigs and let me listen to Beyoncé in peace.

To everyone else, in the words of Oscar Wilde: be yourself – everyone else is already secretly nodding along to that new Pitbull song. Okay, maybe I paraphrased a bit – but you get my point.

Preview: The Weir

0

“Tell me a ghost story.” It only takes five small words to set the scene in this rehearsal of ‘The Weir’- a story of small- town Irish friends crowding round in a pub and weaving stories to pass the evening away, telling tales of ghosts that eventually lead to uncomfortable home truths. Indeed, the magic of this play seems to be its brevity, and the simplicity: the whole play takes place in one long pub scene, no props but a bar is needed, and the characters saunter in wearing non-descript, dull clothing. The beautiful lure of the play is in the words, with unsettling stories being told and memories being pulled back out of the dark- indeed, the simplicity of the set only seems to accentuate these exchanges.

The director Chris Page’s decision to place the play on a thrust stage in the Pilch is unusual, but effective- “it’s a great space”, the producer Claudia Graham tells me, “as it involves the audience, bringing them into the bar”. This is when I am told that the play is BYOB- “meaning the audience will be more drunk by the end than the actors”, laughs the Stas Butler (Finbar), as he nurses his (compulsory) second pint of disgusting non-alcoholic beer. The whole play seems to exude an air of relaxation: the naturalistic nature of the plot, with banter and stories being thrown back and forth, makes me feel like I’ve just wandered into a conversation in the JCR bar. There’s even some genuinely funny jokes- something that can’t be said for every ostensibly ‘funny’ play on the student drama scene. And the drink is useful in more ways than one- every time a character slips up on lines, the others point at their pints and nod at each other meaningfully. “It’s like a real pub atmosphere”, Leo Danzak (Jim) says. “I love the banter, the friendliness and community spirit.” And he’s right- even watching one scene I catch a sense of the mix of emotions, the chilling stories mixed with the affable chatter that really seemed to bring the bar to life.

The single scene nature of the play, like one long take in a film, not only gives The Weir a wonderfully naturalistic, approachable air, like you have simply wandered into a pub and bumped into a conversation, but also invests you in the stories. The continuous conversation, the organic growth of the characters, even the almost-flawless Irish accents (the actors mention that they’ve started using Irish idioms in tutorials) gives the play a warm, lived in, familiar feel- as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to join their table and hear listen to their stories. I for one will be opening a bottle of beer and pulling up a chair on the opening night- I recommend you do to.

The Weir is on at The Michael Pilch Studio, 2nd week: 4- 7th May

Profile: Michael Møller

1

If the United Nations stopped its operations today,” Michael Møller told me, the repercussions “would be felt by each and every one of us. All seven billion of us.”

Over the course of our conversation, Møller – who is Director-General of the United Nations Office at Geneva – displayed again and again an unimpeachable belief in the mission and purpose of the United Nations (UN), expressing too a faith that it will continue to exist and be an arena for its 193 members to discuss and negotiate.

A faith that almost surprised me, seeming, as it does, all the rarer every day. Just last March, a scathing article by a former assistant secretary general was published in The New York Times, titled ‘I Love the UN, but It Is Failing’. Referring to a ‘sclerotic personnel system’, decisions being driven by ‘political expediency’ and a bloated bureaucracy, the article’s author, Anthony Banbury called the UN ‘a Remington typewriter in a smartphone world.’

Not, of course, that Møller is not critical of the UN, an organisation he described as still reflecting its 70-year-old nature; and hence unfortunately gripped by archaism in its operation. The UN, he said, has become bloated. “If it is to be around in 30 years, hopefully it will be as leaner and more efficient.”

In fact, almost as often as he expressed a belief that the UN served an important purpose as a place for discussion, advice, and cooperation, Møller pointed out that our world today is tremendously different to how it has been in previous decades.

“The structural changes that we’ve seen,” he told me, “the pace of technological development, climate change, migration: because of these things, the United Nations needs new, interactive solutions – new ways of solving problems.

“I see [the UN] growing into a more advisory body, coming to work more closely with these other forces that have cropped up” – referring to civil society and business – “no longer the sole force for tackling these kinds of problems facing the world, as it was when it was created.”

As he spoke, we passed Balliol and Trinity colleges. I interviewed Møller over the course of a long walk, and never did he resist my pace: I noticed occasions on which I sped up but he matched me, in order that I would best be able to capture his point. There was a passion in his discourse, a quiet one perhaps, but nonetheless an emotion one might not have expected from a top UN official – deal, as he must with the bureaucratic obligations of “being the glue that keeps the Office at Geneva” together.

He is also, as he added, assistant Secretary General of Disarmament – although above disarmament, Møller concentrates on climate change as the most pressing issue facing the world today. “Everything else” he told me, “must come as a secondary consideration.” Given the threat climate change poses it seemed to think all else pales in comparison.

And he referred repeatedly to the Paris Agreement, the climate change accords of last year, as a major achievement of the UN – having been the impetus for the talks. “In the last year, we saw the Paris Accords,” he said when I asked about the UN’s recent accomplishments, “which ended up being more of a success than we initially thought possible.” At multiple other points, he raised the Paris talks as evidence, as well it is, of the United Nation’s potential impact even today.

Another trend that I noted as he spoke was an almost visceral dislike of the power and influence larger countries wield over smaller ones, quickly positing on a couple occasions first, that the United Nation’s Security Council – which consists of five permanent members, the United Kingdom, the United States, France, Russia, and China, as well as ten others, chosen by rotation – needed institutional reform, and second, more fundamentally, that it is unfortunate the system allows for some nations to dominate others.

He also described the United Nations’ peacekeeping efforts, which Banbury criticised harshly as well, as being underfunded. He said that without reform there too, it is uncertain the peacekeeping arm of the UN can continue to operate 20, 30 years from now – although he said he thought it would.

Perhaps most of all, Møller thought the UN must harness its powers of interactivity and be vigilant in its mission to modernise and reform, as he claimed it has begun to do under its last ten years of leadership (the current Secretary General, Ban Ki-moon, has served since January 1, 2007). Indeed, Møller seemed to be gripped by the challenge, even relishing it.

And though I consider myself as cynical as the next too-clever-for-his-own-good-and-hence- prematurely-jaded Oxford student, I could not help but find myself starting to give the United Nations a second chance, to recognise that it does, in fact, fill an important place in society.

I found myself doing so as a result of what I considered most admirable about Møller: that even at this point in his career, he sounded as idealistic as ever about the potential of the UN. In other words, he seemed a happy synthesis of maturity in experience on the one hand and a still youthful ambition on the other.

It is my conclusion that Møller is exactly the advocate the United Nations needs if it wishes to remain relevant and serve an important role in coming years. That above all else, the UN needs to show that there still remain those, unlike Banbury, who have been exposed to the bureaucracy of the UN, but not consequently dissuaded – and convince everyone else that idealism in the UN’s democracy is not misplaced.

Competition: Win tickets to Common People 2016

Common People Festival is to take place this coming May Bank holiday weekend (28th and 29th May) on South Park, Oxford.

With Duran Duran and Primal Scream headlining, as well as acts including Katy B, Craig David’s TS5, Public Enemy, Gaz Coombes and Ghostpoet, the festival, curated by Bestival’s Rob da Bank, is not to be missed.

Cherwell are giving one lucky reader the opportunity to win two tickets for the Oxford-based festival. To enter, take to Twitter to answer the following question:

“Who on the line-up for Common People would you most like to see live?”

All tweets must include your answer, and mention @CherwellMusic and @CommonPeopleOx as well as the hashtag #commonpeople

Closing date: Midday Friday 6th May

The winner will be drawn at random and announced on the afternoon of 6th May via the @CherwellMusic account. One entry per person. Get tweeting!

Preview: Accidental Death of an Anarchist

0

Down in the bowels of St Hilda’s College, I sat in on an energetic rehearsal of Dario Fo’s brilliant political farce. The play was inspired by the violent political climate of late 1960s Italy – specifically, the case of anarchist railway worker Giuseppe ‘Pino’ Pinelli, who died in police custody, having been arrested in the aftermath of a bombing in Milan. The police claimed his death had been a suicide. An investigating judge declared it an accident.

In an attempt to get to the truth, the play revolves around the figure of the Maniac, a certified madman with an “acting mania,” who wreaks havoc, in various guises, with the blundering officers embroiled in the investigation into the anarchist’s death.

The ensuing action was fast-paced, unpredictable and absurd – often tense, and usually hilarious. Physical humour abounded, as bemused policeman battled with bombs, bourbon biscuits and benedictine tranquilisers. Peter Swallow, as the gormless Constable, was particularly impressive in this regard, and brought to mind Charlie Chaplin with his exaggerated facial expressions and movements.

Alluding to the idea that Fo was “the people’s court jester,” director Helgi Clayton McClure said that he wanted to emphasise the farcical elements of the play, but argued that this was key to bringing out the political satire. He talked knowledgeably of the contrast between the “mechanistic” policemen, influenced by archetypes from the commedia dell’arte tradition, and the dynamic Maniac – portrayed by James Galvin with an expert mixture of wild enthusiasm and cool command.

It is telling that alongside some of the more slapstick moments, particular lines, such as “Scandal is the fertiliser of social democracy,” stood out strongly too. In the trappings of authority, the Maniac subtly undermines the power it wields. He articulates a range of provocative political ideas, such as the idea that political parties attempt to placate a dissatisfied populace by “drowning them in reforms – or promises of reforms” that are sure to engage a contemporary British audience, even if revolution is less of an imminent possibility than it was in 1970s Italy.

A marked departure from St Hilda’s College Drama Society’s recent productions, Accidental Death of an Anarchist promises to be the perfect way to round off your May Day weekend.