Sunday 22nd June 2025
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Oxford Lieder Festival: Singing Words

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The 2015 Oxford Lieder Festival has drawn to a close following two busy weeks of concerts, readings, study days, masterclasses, and more. In contrast with last year’s ‘The Schubert Project’, which featured the performance of Schubert’s entire song output, this year’s festival theme was ‘Singing Words: Poets and their Songs’.

The festival’s opening concert was held in the Sheldonian Theatre, which has a much greater audience capacity and a very different acoustic to the more intimate Holywell Music Room, where the festival is based. Sarah Connolly’s voice certainly filled the theatre, as did her inimitable stage presence. The first half comprised popular Schubert songs such as ‘Die junge Nonne’, and was at once dramatic, subtle, and charming, and the post-interval selection of Wolf and Brahms prompted both tears and cheers from the audience.

In addition to the Sheldonian, concerts and events have been held in venues across Oxford, including the Jacqueline du Pré Building at St Hilda’s, the Oxford Martin School, Iffley Road’s St John the Evangelist, and even the Ashmolean and Blackwell’s. New College Ante-Chapel was used for a series of late-night concerts, providing a suitably atmospheric venue for both Imogen Cooper’s all-Chopin recital and a candlelit, haunting programme of contemporary music, including George Crumb’s Apparition, from the exciting young duo Sophie Junker and Deirdre Brenner—a suitably spooky occasion for late October.

Vaults and Gardens Café was also transformed into a late-night concert venue, taking on a warm and vibrant tavern-like feel to host the Schubert-folk-rock group The Erlkings. With drinks being served and a large student turnout in addition to the festival’s slightly older regular audience, the group’s clever and funny adaptations of Schubert favourites allowed for a fitting celebration of the festival’s opening weekend.

Nonetheless, the hub of the festival is the Holywell—a perfect venue for lieder recitals despite occasional sonic interruptions from motorbikes, bells, and people outside. The intensity of the atmosphere that grips the audience as they wait for a much-anticipated duo to take to the stage is difficult to capture in words. Perhaps the best example of this was Wolfgang Holzmair and Imogen Cooper’s programme of Clara Schumann, Frank Martin, and Robert Schumann on Friday 23rd. Holzmair and Cooper have been performing pieces such as Schumann’s Kerner-Lieder together for over 20 years, and their onstage dynamic did not disappoint. Such was the emotional intensity that it felt like the entire audience held their breath from the opening chords of ‘Stille Tränen’ until the end of a prolonged silence that followed the final song’s closure. The ovation they received was so enthusiastic that they couldn’t retire without offering two encores: first Clara Schumann’s ‘Liebst du um Schönheit’, a gently elegiac setting of Rückert’s meditation on love, and finally a favourite from Robert Schumann’s Liederkreis Op. 39, ‘Mondnacht’, to round off the evening.

Waiting for an encore is always exciting, and the choices from this year’s performers did not disappoint. Clara Schumann was also chosen for Sarah Connolly’s closing song—a gesture appreciated by those aware of the inevitable gender imbalance of the festival programme’s poets and composers (that said, the premiere of Rhian Samuel’s ‘Wildflower Songbook’ later in the festival marked another occasion to celebrate women composers). Elizabeth Watts and Julius Drake tied together a wonderful recital of Liszt and Debussy settings of Victor Hugo and Paul Verlaine with a short, intense Wagner number, and Joan Rodgers gave a charming introduction to her encore—Tchaikovsky’s ‘The Fearful Moment’—that encapsulated some of the evening’s poetic themes: love and fear.

Alongside song recitals, the festival has featured a number of chamber music concerts. The Doric Quartet returned this year to perform two staples of Romantic chamber repertoire: Schumann’s A minor quartet in the Oxford Martin School, and Brahms’s quintet with pianist Alasdair Beatson. Both of these concerts received a warm reception, and the Schumann was appreciated by a much wider audience as it was live-streamed on YouTube. 

To complement the lunchtime performances of Fauré songs that ran throughout the festival, there were also afternoon concerts of his chamber music. The C minor piano quartet was performed by an ensemble of acclaimed younger musicians: Tom Poster (piano), Magnus Johnston (violin), Timothy Ridout (viola) and Guy Johnston (cello) sustained a remarkable level of energy in a performance that brought out the exuberance of Fauré’s chamber textures. The Phoenix Piano Trio complemented their lyrical performance of Fauré’s trio with an arrangement of Janáček’s first string quartet—a version that, while performed with suitable intensity, seemed jarring in its replacement of the all-important inner string parts by piano.

The festival also runs a number of study days. This year, events were focussed variously on the interaction of music and words in song, songs in translation, and Berlioz. Highlights included a paper from Wadham fellow Philip Ross Bullock on the cultural context of Sappho’s poetry in early 20th century Russian songs, and St Catz fellow Laura Tunbridge gave an engaging and amusing critical history of song performed in translation. With a very mixed audience, the study days succeeded in providing something for everyone.

Huge thanks go to Artistic Director Sholto Kynoch, Administrator Taya Smith, the festival assistants and the rest of the Lieder Festival team for facilitating such a wonderful two weeks of music; here’s to an equally successful Schumann-themed festival next year.

The Champagne Social: The Guild Goes Grand

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Wednesday of 3rd week saw the quasi-opulent Champagne Social, hosted by the Oxford Guild: described by one student as an evening of champagne, chocolate, [and] careers.

 Although off to a slow start, Atik formally -colloquially known as “Park End” by the majority of Oxford students – eventually saw a deluge of students, keen to grab a glass of the ostensibly abundant champagne, or sample the four types of G&D’s ice cream. G&D’s is a pretty big deal in Oxford.

The social and its concomitant treats would in theory make for an evening of great enjoyment, and although true to an extent – one mustn’t downplay the barrage of freebie-desiring Oxonians, beelining for the bar or ice cream stand. The champagne was sorely placed at one solitary bar – albeit neatly – in what was conceivably the main gallery.  This subsequently resulted in a student diaspora, vacillating between the rooms in which champagne was being poured, and where ice cream was being scooped. 

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The queues were lamentable. But not lamentable enough for people to become demoralised or downtrodden. Rather, this tacitly instigated what one could consider networking, and intercollegiate mingling – insomuch that I was able to interview people on their thoughts and opinions of the evening as well as what inspired their looks.

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Yoav – Economics & Management (Left), Aum – PPE (Right) : Both St. Peters College.

Do tell me, why are you here?I asked, hoping my question didn’t come across as even slightly bellicose. To which, Yoav replied:

At the Guild or at Oxford? – deep.

Both

“‘Im at Oxford because I love an adventure; this is an adventure for an American. Im at The Guild because it seemed to be an interesting event

This quote is quite true, for Oxford is an adventure and The Guild did seem to be an interesting event: irrespective of the dividends one would obtain from their £8 ticket.

I asked the same to Aum.
Im here for the lols.

Okay Aum, okay.

 

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Natalie (Left) – Classics, Somerville, Emmanuelle (Right) – History of Art, St. Catz

On the Guild Committee, both Natalie and Emmanuelle contribute to the many minutia that helps for a structured and smooth evening – including scanning tickets and helping promote the events.

“[Any] thoughts on the evening?

Unanimously, it was agreeably both sociable and the dividends proved more than adequate.

“Do tell me Emmanuelle, what inspired your look this evening?

“I was going for the chic, formal black tie sentiment but didn’t want to go all out (because it’s still a club) so opted for a velvet Abercrombie and Fitch dress which is formal but so very short that it isn’t wearable to formal-hall or something along those lines. So like, a bad-girl formal.

Nailed it.

 

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Imogen: English, St. Peter’s College

“I was going for equally sexy yet classy, and thus went for unimposing black: turned out pretty good I’d say.

“[…] And would you come again?

“Yes, the conversation is great

The conversations were pretty great. 

 

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Gbenga – St. Hugh’s College

“I’m all about the vertical integration

I’m intrigued – “Do explain further

“On and ever upwards”.

 

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Bou – French, Exeter

“I find this social to be a great and relaxed way to meet people to be honest

Bou and I conversed about the French dialects, segueing into what inspired her look, which was in fact Parisian.

“Although the champagne distribution wasn’t very Parisian, the look I was going for was.”

 

The evening was one of generally pleasant thoughts and opinions, although the distribution of the champagne was at time less than urbane, I imagine this is indicative of the events popularity if anything.

 

Preview: Playhouse Creatures

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The year 1669 is a bawdy and troublesome time. Theatres have just reopened after seventeen years of Puritan oppression. There is a surge in dramatic writing and the first English actresses appear on stage. Party animal King Charles is sat on the throne, and Nell Gwyn wants to act. Over coffee in the Pembroke café, the lovely Charlotte Vickers, director, tells me about Playhouse Creatures.

Playhouse Creatures follows the story of Nell Gwyn, one of five women in the play who work their way onto the theatrical scene in the Restoration period. Based, for the most part, on real lives, each actress brings her own background and storyline to the theatre where they work. The play explores how Restoration actresses try to get power in a world that is set against them.

Playhouse Creatures brings to mind the problems women faced in theatre four hundred years ago, and that which women in current theatre still face. “It’s been interesting,” Charlotte says, “for everyone to think about what problems are still faced by women in theatre, as well as what has changed and what we have now got right.” Although the cast of five is composed entirely of women, there remains several invisible and anonymous male figures in the play, including a ‘director’, the patriarch whom the girls discuss and converse with. The storylines of the characters are relatively separate, nor is there much room for friendship in this competitive sphere, but there are moments when the five women band together, a force of good old girl power in the face of the invisible man and the invisible world. The play also discusses the meaning of theatre itself; we must question why we attend theatre, and why it is important.

Head to the Burton Taylor Studio in 4th week for what promises to be ninety minutes of uniquely amusing, powerful and thought provoking drama. Full of dramatic allusion and meta-theatre, Playhouse Creatures provides a moving and often comic account of the precarious lives of Restoration actresses.

The International Student: welcoming China with open arms

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Last week couldn’t have been more special for Chinese students in England. Half of my Chinese “comrades” in Oxford woke up early on the morning of Monday 19th October, skipped all their lectures for the day, and caught the early coach to London with fast-leaping hearts. They waited for hours, only to catch a glimpse of Xi Jinping, the Chairman of the Chinese Communist Party and the President of the People’s Republic of China.

The visit of Xi Jinping is momentous because it is the first visit of the Chinese President to the UK in ten years. Since the last visit in 2005, China has undergone dramatic changes. One obvious change that I observe is the boom in private cars. Back in 2005, when I was only eight years old, there were not many private cars on the road, but mostly state-owned cars, trucks, and taxis. At that time, motorcycles were the main means of transportation in my city, Changsha, because few people were rich enough to afford private cars and high-quality petroleum. By 2010, however, traffic jams were at every corner of the city. This tremendous increase in personal assets is incredible, especially given that this As far as I am concerned, China is not a democracy under any kind of political classification. In increase occurred during a period of global recession.

It is not hard to see that the purpose of Xi’s visit lies mainly in economical cooperation. With President Xi comes investment in billions of pounds in nuclear industry, communication, automobiles, medicine, and even amusement parks. The total proposed investment exceeds £400 billion, which marks a new climax in Sino-British cooperation.

Nonetheless, what interests me most is the Chinese and British media’s different focuses with regard to President Xi’s visit. Most of the Chinese media boast the outstanding achievements in economic cooperation between China and Britain, while the British media keep questioning Great Britain’s decision in cooperating with a non-democratic nation. The British media casts doubt on the condition of human rights in China, but President Xi counters them by reaffirming “each country has its own criteria of human rights, and the sole competent judge of its condition of human rights is its own people,” which sounds like “none of your business.”

As far as I am concerned, China is not a democracy under any kind of political classification. In my eighteen years, I have never seen my parents or relatives vote in an election for the People’s Representatives in the People’s Committee, which is similar to the House of Commons. Indeed, the power of the government in China is a lot more concentrated than in any democratic state. All the disadvantages, however, may be turned into advantages in terms of efficiency. While the construction of a high-speed railroad to the airport in Taipei has been postponed for ten years, the construction of the high-speed railroad network in China is nearly completed. It is also this efficiency in decision-making that brings the economic boom. Thus, it is irrational to judge China’s achievement only in terms of democracy. It is necessary for us to look at the whole picture.

Needless to say, China has had great success with regard to the economy. Yet in terms of democratic reform, it still has a long way to go. In fact, no one can really predict what China will be in the future. Will China be more democratic, or will it turn into totalitarianism? We still know nothing until the future unwraps.

Interview: Jacob-Rees Mogg

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My heart was thumping as I climbed the marble stairs to the Gladstone Room. The Union debate ‘This house has no confidence in Her Majesty’s Government’ had been a good one. Many thought that Jacob Rees-Mogg, Old Librarian of the same institution and backbench Conservative MP, had delivered a cracker.

Indeed he had. On answering a particularly aggressive point from the gallery – they always are from the gallery – Rees-Mogg raised a deafening cheer from the House when he inquired as to whether the lurking gallery inhabitant had recently checked the Office of National Statistics, which he claimed all self-respecting Oxonians should, and on receiving the negative dismissed the point assuming that its owner must be “a Cambridge man”.

Our eyes met across a crowded room. We were introduced. Rees-Mogg, wearing an immaculate double-breasted dinner jacket with gleaming beribboned dress shoes, looked like a Kingsman. We shook hands and shuffled into a corner; fumbling for my leaky biro I stuttered the first question: “As a somewhat rebellious backbencher with a natty dress-sense, do you in any way associate with James Dean?”

He laughed and informed me, much to my annoyance, that his local paper, The Somerset Country Gazette, had asked him this before. He responded swiftly: “You must remember that James Dean was enormously cool, and I am not.” Undeterred, I followed up the second part of this question, did Rees-Mogg see himself as a bit of a rebel? Raising his eyes, he looked at me over his spectacles, smiled politely, and replied in the negative – as all rebels should.

Given his careful answers, I decided it was time to change tack, and bring out a bit more of the Jacobine wit for which Mr Rees-Mogg is famed. Still on the subject of rebels, I asked him to consider where he would take the Not-Right Honourable Jeremy Corbyn on a blind date. After a momentary lapse in this faithful journalist’s research, we assumed that the humous-loving Corbyn must be a vegetarian. Rees-Mogg then earnestly considered the proposition, and decided it must be Wiltons, “a very nice restaurant where you see other Labour figures, although perhaps more of the Lord Mandelson kind than the Jeremy Corbyn kind.” Regarding the menu, Rees- Mogg highlighted that he would complete the meal with Wiltons’ “most excellent cherry trifle”.

On a more serious note, however, Mogg stressed that despite the fact that Corbyn has views with which he “utterly disagrees”, he considers him to be a “most sincere politician” with whom he “could find areas of interest if not of agreement” – although he added that a Wiltons cherry trifle would be “essential”.

Of course no rebel would be complete without the ability to bide time in moments of dismay, and so I asked Mr Rees-Mogg about the filibustering in the House of Commons – a method of elongating speeches in order to avoid discussion of other legislation – for which he is famed. Mogg’s top filibustering tip was to prearrange points of information with other mischievous MPs before the session, that way one can engage in ‘invite refuelling’ which enables an MP to continue their speech indefinitely.

The current record of six hours was set in 1828. One of Rees-Mogg’s most famous filibusters was a speech in which he argued that all London council officials with the power to issue immediate fines should be forced to wear bowler hats. On probing him about this, he replied coolly; “I am against minor officials having the power to fine.” So next time you’re in trouble with the Domestic Bursar for spilling ‘Tesco’s Fruity Red’ on the carpet , give Mr Rees-Mogg a buzz, and after a hop, skip and a filibuster, you’ll be off in a jiffy.

What with talk of bowler hats, Wiltons, and Mogg’s omnipresent vowels, seemingly cut on the glass from which he sipped his iced orange juice, I ventured to ask whether he sympathised with his popular parliamentary conception as MP for the early Twentieth Century. To this he responded, “I find it absolutely shocking that anyone should think me so modern.” True to himself, however, Rees-Mogg contrasted this self-deprecating witticism with a serious point. Although he considers the Eighteenth Century arguably the most amusing time to have been in parliament, “the highpoint of parliament is probably mid-Nineteenth Century.”

Suddenly a great cheer swept through the room when Union President, Charles Vaughan, stood on a table and announced that the motion had failed to carry by a significant margin. On hearing this, Rees-Mogg leant over his chair and confided, “That is the first time I have ever been on the winning side of an Oxford Union debate.”

This confession brought me back to my original point: that Jacob Rees-Mogg, however conventional he may appear, is a rebel. When I reintroduced the subject, he attempted to deny it once more saying, “I think I’m one of the most boringly conventional people you could find.” Superficially, this is true, but Rees-Mogg followed it up with a statement that only a first-class dissident could wield: “I occasionally oppose the government when I think it’s wrong. I hardly think that’s deeply rebellious.” That is where we disagree.

On watching Rees-Mogg debate earlier in the evening, I felt curiously transported. His attitude, leaning nonchalantly against the dispatch box, his clear, booming voice, his classical references and wit all reminded me of the busts which surrounded him. He alluded to the days of Gladstone, Disraeli and Salisbury as a high point in bygone parliament, and yet he seemed to be one them. I can only conclude therefore that Mr Rees-Mogg is rebellious in his unconventional conventionality: he is a rebel in a suit.

In a period where Tory politicians are becoming increasingly self-conscious, botoxed and blundering around after parliamentary whips, characters like Rees-Mogg, who speak their minds regardless of personal loss, are a rarity, and should be treasured. Neverthe- less, whatever the future, the press might want to keep an eye on Wiltons for the time being.

Please leave university news to us

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Illustration: Ella Baron

Last week, I remember one of my friends informing me in a pub that the police had seized copies of the student magazine ‘No Offence’ for containing ‘obscene’ content. I immediately checked the Cherwell website for news, as any self-respecting Oxford student would; which prompted  a, now slightly hazy, debate with my friends on freedom of speech and the proliferation of student publications, before we remembered our looming essays, and got on with our lives.

I was surprised the next day to see that the news had hit several national outlets, both in print and online. Why did The Independent and The Telegraph care about the antics of university students? The immediate reaction of many students, from the OUSU BNOC wannabees to the pathetic aspiring journos, was that of Regina George from Mean Girls- why are they so obsessed with us?

This was not the first time in recent history that Oxford has featured so prominently in national news. When student protested Marine Le Pen’s appearance at the Union, cameras from various media outlets flocked to what is, after all, no more than a  student club. It must have made the Union’s day, bolstering the flagging self-esteem of an institution which has been largely irrelevant for the past 80 years (after all, who would care if the members  would not fight for king and country now?). Many in student activism were delighted when Brendan O’Neill of the Spectator claimed that he was “attacked” by a “mob” of “furious feministic…Stepford Students” of Oxford University after they protested that he had been invited to speak on a debate about abortion at Christ Church.

At least once a year, broadsheets produce the same spiel on the Oxbridge application process, dedicating several stories aimed at anxious middle class parents and which probably deter numerous deserving applicants from a wider range of backgrounds. Regularly, newspapers report, the brightest talent of a generation, with 10 A*s at A Level, fails to get into Oxbridge, whilst a digest of the admissions process and “curveball” questions get their annual re-printing, to be  repeated by “tigerati” parents over increasingly stressful family meals- “Well – what WOULD you say about a banana Annabelle?”  

The broadcasting of the annual Oxford-Cambridge boat race, whilst great for Oxbridge students, is yet another example of Oxbridge student activities hogging the limelight. The Scottish Cup (between Edinburgh and Glasgow), The Allom Cup (between the various London universities) and the Northumbrian University boat-race (between Durham and Newcastle) are equally worth watching but seem to have fallen into a media black hole.

So the great question- if it can be said that no one really cares for the student politics of Oxford and Cambridge over other universities, why does it feature so prominently in media coverage? Several media outlets have traditionally been dominated by Oxbridge, from the BBC to The Guardian. The Sutton Trust found in a survey that of the 81% of the 100 most influential journalists in the UK news media who attended university, half went to Oxbridge. Many news outlets are making a conscious effort to change the make-up of their staff, but the legacy continues.

Universities have a great deal to offer to public life. One often hears about the vital scientific research Oxford carries out, researching cancer and muscular spinal atrophy, for example. The humanities and arts professors occasionally get a look-in, it always useful to hear from academics that The Duchess of Cambridge and Princess Diana “play the same role as 16th century princesses.” But most of the time, student politics is not essential information for the public, and perhaps debates over ‘No Offence’ distracts from more important news. Either the media must focus their attention on all aspect of university politics, or simply focus less on Oxbridge. The focus on Oxbridge student politics, and Oxbridge in general, inculcates the dangerous impression that simply because some students go to Oxbridge, their activities are somehow more news-worthy than those of students at other universities.

I am sure  that there are limits to the interest of journalists at the Guardian, The Times, and The Daily Mail in Oxbridge, and those limits will not extend to what is written by this pathetic student journo. But if by chance any of you have wandered on the website or discovered a paper by accident while stuck on a broken-down train, I offer this tentative suggestion. Leave University news to Cherwell. No one else really gives a damn.

 

Oxstew: Study finds fossil fuel companies most ethical

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The University of Oxford’s Centre for Justifying the Use of Fossil Fuels has released a study proving once and for all that fossil fuel companies are the most ethical corporations in the world.

Banking was found to be the second most ethical industry by the study. The research centre, which is entirely independent apart from being wholly funded by oil and gas companies, reached their conclusions by examining how many positive stories there had been in the press about different industries between the years 1984 and 2014. The study did not look at how many negative news stories there had been about fossil fuel companies in the same period.

Key events cited as “triumphs” of ethical capitalism in the study include the efforts of BP to preserve wildlife in the Gulf of Mexico in 2010, which the writers found “significantly enriched the local birdlife of the region”. The report also praised the contribution of oil and gas companies to international development through the payment of bribes to key decision-makers in countries throughout the developing world. In particular, the study singled out the generosity of the British oil company SOCO International for its donation of £27,000 to a Congolese military officer in 2014 as an outstanding example of good corporate governance.

The study builds on previous findings by the professional services firm Ernst & Young that one-fifth of prosecutions in the UK for bribery and graft (otherwise known ‘alternative development aid’) between 2008 and 2012 involved oil and gas companies.

Landon Carter, Director of the Centre for Justifying the Use of Fossil Fuels, told The OxStew, “We believe that this study demonstrates that alternative development aid is the future of corporate responsibility. Our study, which covers a period of thirty years, has empirically proven what oil and gas executives have been saying for a long time – that fossil fuel companies are the most ethical in the world.”

“What really separates the oil and gas industry from other sectors of the economy is its unparalleled commitment to developing impoverished countries, this varies from buying government officials speedboats to helping local law enforcement hang environmental activists. Students considering a career in international development should definitely consider oil and gas companies first.”

Lucy Heywood, an Oil Scholar studying for a degree in Chemistry, commented, “I am really excited by the prospect of having a career in the oil and gas sector. I hear that fossil fuels are helping to make sunny beaches for people to go on holiday to all over the world.”

“I have no idea what fossil fuel companies actually do!” she added enthusiastically.

Meanwhile, an anonymous spokesperson for a major fossil fuels company said, “We’ll stop procuring it when you stop buying it. We would be a renewable energy company if it were profitable – never mind economical. Frankly you students should be grateful that we even donate to universities. If you don’t want it we can always give our corporate executives a pay rise or give a fat wad of cash to our shareholders instead.”

The American Dream: more real than ever before

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The American Dream, wrote James Truslow Adams, is “that dream of a land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement.”

It is that dream of land in which every generation will do better than its parents’, and where, for any and everyone who works hard enough, success will come. It is that dream of unlimited upper mobility, socially and economically, where the son of a pauper can end up the father of a multimillionaire.

And it is a conviction held by hundreds of millions, which, although it might have been coined in 1931, dates back hundreds of years, dates back to when Thomas Jefferson wrote down his self-evident truths – foremost, that all men are created equal.

That was, and still is, the great goal of American democracy: a society of innate equality, free from the aristocracy and hierarchy of the European ones, where the first Secretary of the Treasury could be an immigrant, and the man whose face now adorns the hundred dollar bill started as a penniless runaway.

But is that goal now hopeless? Given rising income inequality, low levels of social mobility, and the indisputable disadvantages faced by minorities, is it time to declare the American Dream dead?

To both of these, I answer a resounding no. In fact, it is better and stronger than ever before. To argue that the American Dream was once real, but is now unachievable, is to fundamentally misunderstand it and what it represents to American society.  It is so much more than many might think.

There is an inherent contradiction, for instance, in claiming that the Dream once thrived but is now gone and dusted. To say so is to paint a halcyon image of the past. Because there is something else to the American Dream: it must apply to everyone, regardless of sex, race, or sexual orientation.

So take Jefferson’s America. It was an America that incorporated slavery into its very Constitution. It was an America led by a group of almost exclusively upper class, land- and slave-owning white men, who by and large only let other land-owning white men vote. Its dream was a dream stillborn, un-actualised for all the slaves, women and poor living in the country.

Nor, even in the soaring heights of postwar American economic growth, could one say that the American Dream was alive and well. It was certainly not in 1963 as Martin Luther King Jr. wrote from a Birmingham jail; as a man, imprisoned for his race, wrote that the actions of protesters were the actions of those “standing up for what is best in the American dream.”

And was it a dream fully realized for homosexual men and women until just this summer, when millions were finally given the right to participate in the millennia-old institution of marriage? Opportunity for each is not solely about money, as Willy Loman learns at the cost of his life in Arthur Miller’s The Death of a Salesman. It’s about fulfilment as well.

Even, however, if we judge just by economic opportunity, James Adams’ American Dream was also stillborn. Stillborn, because in 1931, the only economic mobility in a country roiling in the middle of the Great Depression was down and further down still.

And though real wages have barely risen for the average worker since the 1960s, there was a market failure of a different sort at that time: barely over 33 per cent of the labour force was comprised of women in 1960. At least between then and 2010, that number rose to 47 percent – and the wage gap has closed considerably as well.

So what do we make of this? That the American Dream was only ever a myth, a mirage? That not only is it dead, but it was never even really alive? Exactly the opposite.

Because above all, the nature of dreams is that they are not reality. They are hopes, prayers, and aspirations. And our loftiest dreams – the ones about which we declare, “I have a dream!” – are ideals. We strive for them, believe in them, and in our belief, make fiction into fact. This is a gradual process – and every step brings us closer to our destination.

The American Dream is not, and never has been, a state of existence. There is no point in the textbooks to which we can point and say that “here, right here, we have equal opportunity for all”. It is instead an ethos, and a commitment. Even if we waver in our obligation to uphold its values, it remains part of the American national consciousness – the American identity – in a way that is impossible to shake.

The United States is at a precarious point in its history. It faces threats – social, economic, and political – both within and without, but at the end of the day, they are not existential ones. Great concentration of wealth in the hands of a few, a sluggish recovery from economic calamity, discrimination against immigrants, and divisive party politics in Washington have all been met and dealt with before.

There is a tendency to say of the present moment that it is the best of times, or the worst of times, when really, it is neither. History’s tide pushes forward, and though Americans’ belief in our Dream falters today, today won’t last forever. A nation that has had so firmly ingrained in it over the course of centuries the mentality that success should be obtainable by all will eventually overcome, as it always has.

In the meantime, let’s celebrate the progress made and wait for the next chapter in the American Dream, that dream of a land in which life is rich and full and where the streets are paved with gold.

Milestones: Sympathy for the Devil

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“Please allow me to introduce myself; I’m a man of wealth and taste.”

So begins the Rolling Stones’ ‘Sympathy for the Devil’, an apparent glorification of the ultimate bad guy. Jagger, giver of hope to camp skinny boys everywhere, snarls exuberantly about the crucifixion of Jesus in the first verse; the Nazis in the second – by the third, he’s onto the murdered Kennedys. For a band who revelled in putting the fear of God – or His opposite number – into America’s ‘Silent Majority’ and Middle England, it’s really not bad going.

The reaction to such a song was predictable, from both detractors and fans. Icon Jean-Luc Godard was so enamoured by its counterculture potential that he made it a film featuring Black Panthers and an extended Marxist voice-over monologue. Indeed, the song held a privileged place on a list of acceptable tracks under the dictatorship of the proletariat (no John Lennon). There’s an interview with Jagger on YouTube in which, in his ever-surprisingly soft-spoken way, he namedrops the songs’ influences; Godard, Baudelaire, Bulgakov’s The Master and the Margarita, essentially scrambling to capitalise on his sudden intellectual significance – and loving it.

The song’s sophisticated ideas – that evil is a human construct, that we “fought for ten decades for the gods we made” – suggest that its more than just a Satanist wind-up, and that the moral panickers simply didn’t get it. Possibly undermining this is footage from 1968’s ‘Rock and Roll circus’ in which Jagger falls to his knees and tears his t-shirt from his back, revealing a massive Satanic tattoo. It fits perfectly into the long, playful tradition of insincerity which burns an anarchic trail through the history of pop music, from Johnny Rotten’s “We mean it, maaann” to Kanye West’s assertions that he is the son of God. Many conflicting moods fight it out in ‘Sympathy for the Devil’ – philosophical, ironic, threatening, and, of course, joyful, what with the best guitar solo of all time (eat your heart out, Stairway). There is no dominant tone.

Mirroring this was the chaos of 1968; turmoil both personal (in Godard’s film, the disintegration of guitarist Brian Jones, who would drown in his swimming pool the next year, is clearly visible) and political (the lyric “the Kennedys” changed from “Kennedy” when Bobby Kennedy was shot during recording). If nothing else, the song stands for the sheer absurdity of middle class, shockingly sexist, culturally appropriative men being seen as revolutionaries when their most subversive quality was being disapproved of by middle class parents.

The epitome of its standing for the madness of the late Sixties is its performance at the notorious Altamont Free Concert. After stopping the band playing, Jagger quips that “We always have something very funny happen when we start that number”, nervously indulging in tongue-in-cheek superstition. But the joke was only necessary because of the palpable rising tension in the audience; the 1970 film ‘Gimme Shelter’ intersperses shots of menacing Hell’s Angels with Jagger’s increasingly desperate pleas for calm: “Hey people, brothers and sisters…cool out.” During the next song, ‘Under My Thumb’, 18-year-old fan Meredith Hunter was stabbed to death.

Why is the song a milestone? Because it ushered in an era of rock bands being oddly interested in Satanic imagery; because it solidified the Stones’ reputation as bogeymen; because it encapsulates the “do they really mean it?” factor. But mainly because it speaks directly to the anxiety of its times. Halfway through the ill-fated Altamont performance, ‘Gimme Shelter’ cuts to a close-up of Jagger, deep in contemplation, looking, frankly, terrified. Who killed the Kennedys? “After all, it was you and me”.

Between the devil and the (Johnny) Depp

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I’ve never been religious. I don’t go to church, I don’t pray and I don’t believe in heaven and hell. But I do think that I have a keen sense of religion, probably best described as a morbid curiosity towards it, and a personal relationship with it which is half visceral, half cerebral – it’s the feeling you get walking into a dimly lit cathedral and suddenly having the fear of God in you, before the intellectual side kicks in again and you remark on the use of light and space in Gothic architecture.

It’s this religious side to me, I think, that makes me totally love The Ninth Gate, Roman Polanski’s bizarre 1999 fi lm about book collecting and summoning the devil. The film has the strange appeal of the occult, and gives me the same buzz I get reading about weird Satanic cults and wild biblical interpretations when I stray too far into the demonology pages of Wikipedia (more common than you might think).

The plot concerns one Dean Corso, Johnny Depp in one of his more endearing performances, who is hired by rare book collector Boris Balkan to recover the two other copies of a book called The Nine Gates of the Kingdom of Shadows, a seventeenth-century book written by the imagined author Aristide Torchia, supposedly adapted from an older book written by the devil himself, and which is said to hold the key to summoning Satan and achieving immortality. Balkan, who owns one copy of the book, believes the other two to be forgeries, and employs Corso to verify the authenticity of his copy. Corso, in his hunt for the manuscripts, follows a trail of mystery and death, in which many of the people he encounters in the world of antique books are brutally murdered, their bodies hauntingly arranged afterwards in manners that exactly reflect the engravings which illustrate the book. His search leads him around Europe, where he encounters misguided Satanic, orgiastic cults, is hunted by hitmen, and is aided throughout by a mysterious woman with paranormal powers, played by Emmanuelle Seigner, who turns out to be not quite the guardian angel we thought she was.

Undoubtedly the film is hammy and the ending, which I shan’t spoil, is pretty dubious. But the film is interesting in ways beyond simply a strange fascination with the occult. There’s an undercurrent throughout of sexual deviance, the kind we might associate with a debauched, orgiastic and hedonistic kind of anti-religion, and an exploration of similar issues of sexuality that Polanski began to delve into with the 1968 classic Rosemary’s Baby. Indeed, in the film’s last sex scene, we can’t help but recall the climactic moment in his earlier film and Rosemary’s haunting pleas of, “What have you done to its eyes?”, as Emmanuelle Seigner’s flash a devilish green. Looking at the genealogy between the two films, we might say that the latter “has his father’s eyes”, as this final moment, by recalling Rosemary’s Baby, reminds us of the sexual significations of much of what we have seen before in The Ninth Gate.

The film has a focus on vision, as the book’s engravings become the central concern of Corso, who gradually comes to realise that, across the three copies, diff erent illustrations are signed by LCF – Lucifer. When Polanski ends the film with a sex scene that is defined by this demonic gaze, he both sexualises and perverts in hindsight the reading processes in which Corso is involved throughout. He insinuates that there is some inherent eroticism in the penetrative gaze we aim at texts in looking for meaning and authenticity, notions that are inseparably intertwined in the idea that to access the book’s potential – summoning the devil – its reader must verify its authorship, as only the engravings by Lucifer himself will work for the ritual.

The film’s interest in authorship and the relationship between sight, image and text becomes interesting when we remember that it is itself based on an original book, the novel El Club Dumas by Arturo Pérez-Reverte. The translation of text into image, represented by the engravings in the book, is taken a step further to the translation into the moving image, a film. Polanski’s film might be read as a search for authenticity in a medium, cinema, which comes late to the game of narrative representation, and plays with what it means for a director to adapt a book into film. The occult itself becomes symbolic of the obfuscating and mystifying tendencies of interpretation, and echoes somehow the strange fetishisation of the piercing gaze of the search for meaning or allegory. When looking for significations in what we’re watching, we see the devil staring back at us, and for a moment it seems like we’ve delved into something dangerous – we’re dancing with the devil. But maybe I’m just being superstitious.