Monday 23rd June 2025
Blog Page 1139

A view from the cheap seat

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A selection of our favourites…


“M9 – Wadham tonite 7:30… be there yeh”

“Dear Sir or Madam,

We would like to extend our warmest invitation to the hallowed halls of ‘the house’ (Christ Church, Oxford). We would be delighted to see you (if you can, it’s to your convenience of course), not half an hour after evensong this Tuesday in two weeks time. We hope to presume upon your correspondence. Bring a tie.”

“HEYA!!!!!

So like we have the most amazzzzzballzzzz show happening at the BT in a few hours and we like, oh by the way my name is lottie, haha- hahahah sorry lol should have said. Anyway it’s like at the BT in two hours so like if you could do a preview, write it up put it on the website that is totally what we’re entitled to. “

“To whomever believes they own the meaning of their words,

Death/////

Life//////

Light/////

Darkness//

Inter-textuality///////////

Language, and movement, and meaning

and life and… silence…and preview… please? (no complementary ticket)”

“Hello,

I am currently writing a thesis on the representation of representation as represented in the seventeenth-century representations of theatre. I have decided to stage a production in light of my findings. I do not yet know what the play will be or when or where but I assure you it promises to be thrilling. Could I count on your presence?”

“Right, you fucker. Not once have you shown up to my previews or plays. I am writing to inform you that OUDS has set up a designated hit squad for negligent reviewers. You monster. We are going to sue you for gross professional misconduct – have you any idea the serious damage you have caused me after not receiving my twice-termly self-affirmation from reviews? “ 

Review: If Alice

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★★★★★

Five Stars

Three chairs, three sets of overalls and a blank space… My pupils also rolled into the cynical depths of my theatrically weary eye sockets. I bet even now you are also savoring the pleasure of a self-satisfied sigh; what a luxury it is of knowing that one’s prejudices have been confirmed (yet again!). Yes, I agree, it sounds like yet another entry into that lengthy catalogue of pretentious student drama at Oxford. But allow me the luxury of a cliché when I say – this one is a bit different.

For one it is directed by theatre luminary Jack Clover whose piece Beachcombing was one of the most impressive pieces of new writing last year. Ever since he won drama cuppers last year, Clover has deservedly been one of the big names on the drama circuit. It explains the second reason why If Alice is a bit different.  Clover has been able to call upon the expertise of ex OUDS president Aofi Cantrill, Revue co-president Georgia Bruce and Zennor playwright Lamorna Ash. Basically the thesp A-team if ever there was one. 

The play is constructed from a series of loose episodes that contrast the everyday life of Alice with the futures and outcomes she could have had. These fragmentary glimpses establish that Alice is in a mediocre relationship with a domestically challenged Iron Maiden fan and that she suffers regrets about not pursuing her full potential at university. Her dissatisfactions are understandably taken out on Mr Iron Maiden when they have an argument one night. As we gradually learn more about the banality and pettiness that characterizes her life, we see a series of stylized interludes in which Alice listens to a voicemail from her boyfriend the morning after their argument. These interludes are set to ‘be my baby’ by the Ronnets and the music becomes more distorted with each successive interludes. They give an undefined sense of escalation that makes sense in light of the eventual meaning the voicemail will have. 

Like Beachcombing, If Alice… has a very distinct tone. Unremarkable people talk about a lot of very unremarkable things and Clover plunges us into this world of uniform unremarkable(ness). But he allows us to learn the codes and patterns that betray the meanings behind the unremarkable signifiers of his characters’ lives. Jay cloths for example initially come up as a side detail, but as we see by the end (without wishing to spoil the end) Jay cloths mean rather a lot. This love and attention for banality is part of what made both productions distinctive. It is what gives them a very comfortable almost homey feel. Its very hard to describe, but its definitely there. There is very little pretension about any of it.

Yet the superficial modesty of the proceedings, belies the enormous skill required to pull it of. It is very hard to make the unremarkable interesting and compelling. Georgia Bruce’s versatility allows her to create a character that is interesting and sympathetic despite the fact she plays a character distinguished by being totally undistinguished. Cantril and Ash likewise do a tremendous job in switching between diverse characters in a variety of styles, often moving between stylization and naturalism with great ease. Were it not for the dynamism that their role swapping brings, the play would be as grey, dull and mediocre as the people it portrays.

The play is however far from sharing the greyness of its character’s lives. Rather it makes for an extremely captivating, engrossing and compelling story. All of this of course would be impossible were it not for a script that cherishes the details of everyday life and gives them a sense of value all of their own. This again would not however be enough. Clover’s confident directorial voice tells the story with the necessary control and moderation that the script demands and were it not for this, the production would not convincingly come together. 

So all in all we’re talking about a production with some very impressive and well-oiled parts. Yet my one complaint is the same I had with Beachcombing. It does not feel as if there is much of a summation of these excellent parts. It does not feel to me as if we are being offered much more than a story (or the suggestion of a story). This is perhaps an unfair criticism, for it is totally vague in defining what more is left to do. And yet I feel something is still ever so slightly lacking. I’ll stop there before you role your eyes again. But do go and watch and see what feeling the play leaves you with. I have a feeling it will be one of this term’s most worthwhile productions. 

Hecuba as never seen before

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The endless legacy of the Greeks is per- haps best summed up in the playwright Marina Carr’s own words: “When we write tragedy, we write tragedy because Troy is in rubble”. And Troy is certainly in rubble in her new adaptation of Euripides’ Hecuba, which closed on Saturday at the RSC. More to the point, the people are in ruins and it is hard to know who’s the winner of Carr’s version of the Trojan War.

Staged on a tarnished reflective floor with a backdrop of moveable mirrors, Erica Whyman’s production is stark, most of the scenery and rubble verbal: the play opens with Derbhle Crotty’s powerful Hecuba sitting on a bare throne in a largely empty room, conjur- ing the bodies of her fallen sons with her voice alone. It’s the voices that make this play; a sort of verbal punctuation happens with an endless “I say, he says” which has the charac- ters speak their own lines, the lines of other characters, and describe their experience of events. When Hecuba says that the head of her husband Priam is at her feet, you believe it.

The rollicking energy of Carr’s dialogue is enthralling. Agamemnon (Ray Fearon) and Hecuba demonstrate their conflict by each speaking the other’s lines. The movement of the actors is often different to their description. A particularly striking moment comes as Cassandra declares “I take my sister’s hand” while the two daughters of Priam stand on opposite sides of the stage, staring at each other, totally isolated in their suffering.

The violent interiority of the play’s dialogue is the true masterstroke, Whyman’s direction expertly rendering every single character a victim in this tragedy. When Agamemnon finally breaks out of his appearance as the villainof the piece, the audience reels back at his declaration that he does not wish to kill any more children, but feels he has no choice. The tables are turned as soliloquy and editorialisation of the lines of others renders every character a sympathetic one; even the sneering, strutting warrior Agamemnon, who seems to shrink onstage as the play unwinds. It’s an ongoing witness statement to the horrors of war, the sacrifice of Polyxena rebounding through different voices, all united – for perhaps the first time in the play – in their absolute despair. I’ve rarely sat in a theatre so silent, so rapt by the action presented.

The play builds and builds at a perfect pace, the action never feeling stilted by the profusion of words bouncing around the stage. In fact, the dynamism of the leads, Fearon and Crotty, along with the vicious energy of Cassandra and a knockout performance from the young boy playing the final grandson of Priam and Hecuba, brings the play to visceral life, each and every character one to whom the audience feels tied, inexorably, to the bitter, heartbreaking end.

The ending of Carr’s version is different to the Greek original, and it’s a change that makes the play even more heartbreaking. We are left with a story where everyone has been written into particular parts, paths they cannot break from, and so Cassandra’s final prophecy of a different future, declared quietly to an empty stage for the first time in the play, rings with a damning lack of catharsis. Who was the winner? No-one, this play seems to say.

Marina Carr’s latest is a testament to her skill as a dramatist, and to the way that Greek tragedy speaks to the deepest cruelty and suffering humanity is capable of, and more importantly, to the way that inflicting the former cannot happen without incurring the latter 

Review : Turn Of The Screw

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People don’t go to the opera to be frightened. We might love a good ghost story and, whether we like it or not, the uneasy fear on which they draw is bound to get us all. Director Timothy Coleman comes, as he says himself, from a background of theatre, and for him opera is all about “telling a story”. And what a story he and his team (Katie Jeffries- Harris and Tomos Watkins) have picked for

their second operatic endeavour at Oxford. The Turn of a Screw is the story of Miles and Flora, two children whom their uncle has left to the care of a governess and a housekeeper in Bly House, an old estate with uncertain history. Soon it becomes clear, that the four of them are not alone in the house.

The plot contains enough ingredients of fear already: an old house, two little children and a governess’ insecurity in the face of this situation. On top of these come the typical features of twentieth-century music, a certain abruptness, a very fine texture of melody and accompaniment and the luring fall into atonality, through which Britten brings the music in sync with the mystique and suspense of the story itself.

But the production’s merit in enticing the audience into the characters’ fears is immense. It begins with the director’s choice to do away with synopses, which can only be one of two things: either a sign of his immense trust in our knowledge of Henry James or, which I think is more likely, a means to commit us to the stage in front of us.

The church as a performance space has become somewhat of a convention in opera at Oxford and the reasons are as simple as they are ingenious. The singers have a natural microphone in the resonance and even a small orchestra can immerse the entire audience space in their harmonies without coming off as a chamber orchestra. But in a church, vision and acoustics distorted, fear can break the fourth wall and creep into the benches. That isscary.

Standing out from the orchestra of excellent soloists, conducted by Tomos Watkins, was the piano part (James Orrell), which plays such an integral part of the drama at various points throughout the opera, supporting and emulating the characters’ emotional dispositions. But at all points, the harmony between the cast and the orchestra was exemplary. Sonia Jacobson’s interpretation of an emotionally confused governess came out in her direct and strong soprano, which contrasted nicely with the more elusive tenor of Guy Withers as Quint.

Particular highlights of the cast were Emily Coatsworth (13) as Flora and Danny Wymbs (12) as Miles, whose singing belies their age. The perfection of their performances pays tribute not only to their natural gift to see through the musical surface to the crux of an operatic scene, but also to the great efforts of both Coleman and the older singers to guide them along.

Via the combination of a Baroque opera and a modern piece at the edge of its genre, I was quite literally kept on the edge of my seat 

The fatal beauty of the cliché

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“A few clichés make us laugh, but a hundred clichés move us because we sense, dimly, that the clichés are talking amongst themselves, celebrating a reunion,” Umberto Eco once wrote, regarding the cult movie status of 1942’s Casablanca; and his appraisal is still an excellent guide for ascertaining the authenticity of movies which make claims to cult status today.

Guillermo del Toro’s Crimson Peak is a “Victorian gothic horror”. Because, well, what else could it be from the doyen of that genre, whose back catalogue includes those two iconic projects, Pan’s Labyrinth and Hellboy? Piggybacking onto his more mainstream Pacific Rim, this 2015 off ering is about as cult as things can get. To begin with, it riffs off every genre cliché going: the opening sequence features dying parents and dusty old tomes, creaky floorboards and handsome strangers. Oh, and a ghost. From thereon in, the predictabilities keep churning out: an ethereally blonde Mia Wasikowska, as protagonist Edith, is Coventry Patmore’s archetypal ‘Angel in the House’, with just a hint of the bluestocking about her (this is designed for a postfeminist audience, after all), while her dark double is in an enigmatic, raven-haired Jessica Chastain. Meanwhile, the Byronic antihero is given an elegant makeover by a preternaturally compelling Tom Hiddleston – who, I’ve come to the conclusion, largely plays variations on Tom Hiddleston for every movie he features in. (N.B. this is no criticism of Hiddleston. The starriest stars of previous eras, from De Niro to Bogart himself, have mastered the same). 

Crimson Peak’s magic lies in its understanding the fatal beauty of cliché. Lesser filmmakers would try, ham-handedly, to obscure genre signposts, unwittingly turning formula into failure. Del Toro deftly circumvents that problem by simply promising the familiar originality of his own kooky-creepy aesthetic, rather than trying to make his story (which basically melds themes from Jacobean melodrama with all the subheadings found in a Routledge Companion to Victorian Literature) pass for ‘new’.

It delivers. The results of Thomas E. Sanders’s production design are eccentrically gorgeous. The cast are eccentrically gorgeous, a winning trifecta of angular suspiciousness. Del Toro’s chosen combinations of SFX and CGI flesh out gruesome ghosts with tendrils of guts that look as though they’ve been crafted from manilla lace. The mood is sombre, but offers flickers of campy humour – largely delivered by the forever-scene stealing Chastain – to occasionally remind the old Hellboy crowd of his writerly talent for levity. And while there is nothing subtle about the symbolism of its white-versus-red palette, cinematographer Dan Loustsen forgivably presents Crimson Peak’s audience with a visual feast for the eyes. Perhaps most striking, however, are costume designer Kate Hawley’s contributions. As Jonathan Faiers recently posited in Dressing Dangerously, yellow is the new red for go-to wardrobe department colour psychology: its unsettling potential is wonderfully realised in one of Wasikowska’s vividly garish ballgowns.

Is the film easy viewing? Strangely, yes and no. Parts are certainly uncomfortable. But the taboos that, ten years ago, it might have been impressive to transgress, are now glided across with only a faint murmur of shock value – overshadowed, like much of today’s cinema, by what TV has already dared to explore.

In the wake of, say, American Horror Story, this movie is virtually archaic. Yet perhaps some things are meant to be. For Crimson Peak gains from what is, in the end, a quiet respect for the traumas of our pasts. Stripped to its barest bones, there is a satisfying dilemma at the film’s core which means it will probably endure as a cult staple of its genre when more sensational works have faded away.

Love may be gruesome – but it’s bloody beautiful.

Oxford’s mental health: time for change

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What do we get from Oxford? We get the opportunity to learn more and faster than our peers, we get better job prospects, and we get a justified sense of achievement for all that work we put in to get here. We all know these headline benefits, but if you ask an average Oxford student what it feels like to be at Oxford two more telling words come out: “tired” and “stressed.”

People expect to work hard, but that is not the only thing which hides behind these words. The truth is they refer to the exhaustion and weekly peaks and troughs of stress, to anxious tension building up in our minds as that week’s deadline approaches, reaching fever pitch before crashing in a blowout of relief, the next tidal wave already visible as the second or maybe even the third deadline of the week approaches. The pounding of this tide of work takes its toll on all of us – it doesn’t take a psychology DPhil to tell you that such regular extremes of mental tension are unhealthy. But it’s Oxford, it’s expected, right? 5th week blues are just a fact of life, our predecessors did it, and if we want the benefits we should persevere too. But the thing is, our predecessors didn’t know the costs as we now do; the impact depression and anxiety has on our physical health, on our academic productivity, and most importantly on our happiness.

Now we know those costs. In a much-cited Tab survey of mental health in Cambridge 21 per cent of respondents admitted that they had been diagnosed with depression with a further 25 per cent believing themselves to be suffering depression or other metal illness undiagnosed. That comes to a total of 46 per cent of the 1,749 respondents (making up around 15 per cent of all undergraduates in Cambridge at the time,) reporting difficulties with mental health compared to 6.7 per cent nationwide. As a baseline this is bad enough but when I dived into the stats of the extreme manifestations of this stress it took the meaning of those statistics to a whole different level. Eating disorders, panic attacks, self-harming and suicidal thoughts were rife. These are pains which leave lasting scars – to realise their extent disgusted me.

Higher Education should be liberating and yet so many of us have felt imprisoned by it. It should be self-improving instead of giving rise to such self-destructive tendencies. Above all it should be a light we look back on, not the dark hole we escaped. As JCR President of Catz last year I realised the extent of the problem; acting as advocate in many rustication meetings I saw people at the point of breakdown time and again. Then, in Trinity term, I felt it for myself.

I like to think I have always had quite an objective view on stress and work which has protected me. Watching my parents both in unhappy jobs, my mum’s temper shortened by the looming stress of redundancies while my dad being regularly brought down by stress-induced migraines made me promise myself to never do any job which made me fundamentally unhappy. I knew when to take breaks from work and when to give up on it and seek help, but last term I couldn’t take a break – under the weight of a nightmarish battle with Catz finance committee over independence, with more rustication meetings in the lead up to finals than ever before, and with University Hockey commitments and completely unintelligible models, I found myself unhappy. I wanted to go home, I didn’t want to get out of bed in the mornings. I wanted to say sack this and walk away. Thankfully my housemates supported me and pushed me through to the holidays.

These experiences have hardened me in the view that something needs to change fast and to call bullshit to the claims that this level of student mental health is an unfortunate but necessary side effect of our world class education. We at Oxford are at greater risk; having become accustomed to success we are therefore unequipped to cope with perceived failure. Because of this our solutions need to be more structural and more proactive.

I don’t think that anyone is willing to demand the adjustments necessary to pre-empt the rustication culture we have established in response to the mental health crisis on our campuses. I also don’t think that those who have become the student politics elite truly believe that we can effect change where it counts – in caps in weekly work load, in college in-house counselling services, in an end to term time punitive collections, in term lengths, and in reading weeks.

OUSU needs new people who know the power we have as students and who know how to communicate it in terms the new generation of academic administrators understand, as consumers. People who won’t accept that conference income is the most important thing. At the moment the debate is over reactive policies like access to libraries for rusticated students. Together let’s move that debate to a place where we can stop those people needing to rusticate at all.

The Coloured Market

Creative Direction: Emmanuelle Soffe
Styling: Emily Pritchard
Photography: Mark Barclay
Models: Shannon Gunawardana and Ben Christopher

 

A pair of great black jeans never go out of style. Don’t be afraid to add excitement with other pieces- as model Ben shows, too much is never enough.  

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Yellow mac, Vintage. Shoes, Lathbridge.

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Jumper, Kenzo

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Bomber jacket, Lulu’s Vintage Fair

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Use tobacco as a base for dark autumnal tones and faux fur textures, or lighten up with stark white and pops of colour. One pair of trousers, three ways to style- the tailoring speaks for itself.

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Trousers (worn throughout), Topshop. Cami, H & M. White shirt, Topshop. 

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Earrings, Freedom at Topshop

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Blue suede shoes, Zara

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Jumper, Marks and Spencer. Brogues, River Island.

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Clutch bag, Zara.

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Cami and leather jacket, both River Island. Fur, Primark. Purse, Acne.

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Court shoes, Topshop.

 

Oxford University in oil donor controversy

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Cherwell has learned that in 2013, the Earth Sciences Department accepted a donation worth up to £10m from the subsidiary of a company subsequently convicted for violating trade sanctions.

Schlumberger Oilfield UK, a wholly-owned subsidiary of Schlumberger Ltd, the largest oilfield services company in the world, donated software licenses worth up to £10m to the University of Oxford’s Earth Sciences Department. These licences, which constituted the third-largest donation to Oxford University in the financial year 2013/14 according to Freedom of Information requests submitted by Cherwell, are currently used in the Shell Geoscience Laboratory.

In March 2015, Schlumberger Oilfield Holdings Ltd. (SOHL), another of Schlumberger’s subsidiaries, was handed the biggest criminal fine for sanctions violations in US history.

SOHL pleaded guilty to allegations of violating sanctions by trading with Iran and Sudan, and attempting to conceal their activities from the US government. The company paid out $155m in criminal fines, forfeited $77.5m in earnings and has begun a period of three years of corporate probation.

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According to a University spokesperson, the University’s Committee to Review Donations “undertook a thorough assessment to determine whether it was appropriate to receive software from this donor,” although this was before Schlumberger’s subsidiary pleaded guilty to sanctions violations.

In April 2012, Professor Nick Rawlins, the University’s Pro-Vice Chancellor for Development & External Affairs, said in an interview with Spear’s magazine, “If you asked what would happen if somebody from whom we’ve accepted a donation committed some grave criminal act, what we would do? What we would do is take the matter of donation back to the committee that reviews donations and in the light of the evidence we now have, [we’d ask] what should we do?”

However, after SOHL’s criminal fine, Cherwell understands that no formal review took place. Professor Nick Rawlins could not be reached for comment on the matter.

The Earth Sciences department has previously come under environmental scrutiny, most notably when the Shell Geoscience Laboratory itself was founded in 2013. The research partnership with Royal Dutch Shell provoked anger among climate change activists, sparking protests outside the Radcliffe Camera and open letters to The Guardian. Within the department, the Shell Geoscience Laboratory is involved with a wide variety of different research projects, with a particular focus on unconventional hydrocarbons and carbon sequestration.

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Unconventional hydrocarbons are sources of oil and gas which require unconventional methods of extraction, like shale gas, or tar sands. Typically, some sort of stimulation or injection is required before the resources can be extracted.

Research into these areas has provoked the ire of climate change activists in the past, but in a statement to Cherwell, the University insisted, “All donations to the University, whether from oil companies or anyone else, do not affect the independence of our teaching and research programmes.

“Those donating money to the University have no influence over how academics carry out their research or what conclusions they reach.

“Where the results of research are not favourable to industry, the researcher will still seek to publish the results in the usual way. The University of Oxford is one of the world’s leading universities, with the top ranking in the UK’s 2014 Research Excellence Framework (REF). This would not be achievable if our research was not rigorous, independent and objective.”

Rivka Micklethwaite, who has been involved in OUSU’s campaign to persuade the University to divest from fossil fuels, told Cherwell, “People have calculated how much more [CO2] we can put into the atmosphere, and there’s about five times that much carbon locked away in the known reserves of all the fossil fuel corporations. Their industry needs to stop functioning.” Asked about the University’s research into unconventional hydrocarbons, Micklethwaite commented, “The long and the short of it is that they’re looking for more fossil fuels; they’re looking for more ways that they can get to different kinds of fossil fuels.”

As an oilfield services company, rather than an oil and gas company like Shell or BP, Schlumberger neither owns any oilfields nor extracts any fossil fuels itself. The company does, however, play a vital facilitating role in the operations of oil and gas companies around the world. In particular, it is responsible for engineering the equipment used in arctic exploration and in extraction at deep-sea drilling sites.

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While the University cited carbon sequestration as an example of environmental research being done in the laboratory, Micklethwaite was critical of this approach. Carbon sequestration involves pulling carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere and storing it deep underground.

But Micklethwaite suggested that research in these areas was progressing far too slowly for it to be a viable option. She went on to say that it was “a really irresponsible way for politicians and fossil fuel companies to be treating the climate change problem”, insisting that more funding should be diverted to renewable energy sources.

This news comes just as an investigation by Greenpeace has revealed the true scale of donations made by the fossil fuel industry to UK universities. The environmental organisation placed Oxford fourth on their list of universities who had taken the most money from oil, gas, and coal companies in the last five years, with well over £21m accepted in the last five years. Their investigation was also critical of Oxford for taking money for branded professorships, citing the Shell Professor of Earth Sciences as an example.

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However, Professor Joe Cartwright, the Shell Professor of Earth Sciences and head of the Shell Geoscience Laboratory, was keen to emphasise the varied nature of the work done in the lab. He explained that in addition to hydrocarbon exploration, “one of our major themes is to understand how natural fractures form.”

He continued, “We are also actively trying to explain how giant submarine landslides and mud volcanoes form (these are major hazards for society,) and trying to understand how chemical reactions affect the physical properties of sediments (how mud turns into rock.)”

Schlumberger did not respond to Cherwell’s request for comment.

Fridge Fix: Post-Bop Citrus Face-mask

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If you’re in desperate need of a post-bop skin detox and have some leftover beer lying around that you’ve promised the almighty god of hangovers never to drink again, this week you’re in luck! Treat yourself with that stale half can of Heineken and still stay sober enough to meet your essay deadline by making it into a facemask. With radiant skin, you might even be able to, ahem, face your tutor after he’s marked it (hahahaha).

1 egg white
1/2 can of beer
2 tsps fresh lime juice

Separate the egg white from the yolk and throw the nasty fatty yellow thing away. Stir the former thoroughly into your beer (it doesn’t matter if it’s stale or warm) before squeezing fresh lime juice from an actual lime into the mix. Do not use the neon green stuff you can pick up at Tesco instead. Apply to the face and remove after 10 minutes using warm water. The lime and beer contain a variety of vitamins and the egg white aids elasticity.

Home or Roam: Born in Brazil

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When people think of Brazil, they generally think of Rio’s beaches, or the Amazon rainforest. If they know Brazil a bit better, they might think of São Paulo’s booming metropolis, or the diversity of flora and fauna found in the Pantanal, or the planned capital city of Brasília. But Brazil is a huge country with 26 states, and not many people travel beyond Rio and São Paulo. I was born about an hour south of São Paulo, in Curitiba, the largest city in Brazil’s south.

Life in Curitiba doesn’t fit the international stereotype of Brazil. For starters, Curitiba doesn’t have a beach, and is actually quite cold in the winters. The news and pop culture displays all of Brazil as looking like Rio’s favelas (Brazilian slums), but in general Brazil is actually quite a safe place, where babies are adored and their first birthday party is a huge event. Although there are favelas in any big Brazilian city, they aren’t as dangerous as their reputation, especially not in Curitiba.

As a city, there are several interesting things that make Curitiba unique. Curitiba is known in environmentalist circles internationally because of its sustainability. The RIT, or bus system, was designed to increase consumer usage of buses over cars, and was so successful it won multiple international awards. So many people used the system that there are now plans to build a subway due to overcrowding on the buses. There is also a beautiful flower clock – literally, a clock made out of flower beds – downtown, that appeals to locals as much as it does to tourists. Florianópolis isn’t far, and Iguaçu Falls is also in Paraná (Curitiba’s state) and is stunning.

What I miss most when I’m away, though, is the food and drink. Brazilian food is great! I love snacks – pao de quijo, which used to be sold in the Covered Market as ‘bolitas’, are yummy cheesy balls of dough, and brigadeiros are chocolate, truffle-like sweets. On a Sunday, when English families traditionally have a roast, Brazilian families often eat a barbeque – either at home, or at a churrascaria, or barbeque restaurant. Churrascarias serve every cut of meat you could want, from sausages to the favourite Brazilian cut, picanha. Meat is brought around and sliced off huge skewers at the table so you can get it cooked exactly how you like it; I order mine ‘mal pasado’, roughly translated as ‘badly cooked’ or medium rare. They also have huge, elaborate salad bars with any toppings or sauces you can imagine.

The national drink of Brazil is the caipirinha. It is traditionally made with cachaça (sugarcane alcohol), lime, and sugar. However, the varieties are endless – at parties, there is often a caipirinha assembly line, with alcohols, fruits, and sugar. The most popular alcohol for caipirinhas is still cachaça, but Steinhäger (a German gin) and vodka are also common. It’s very easy to make yourself – cut up a lime and put it in an empty glass with sugar, muddle them together, add the alcohol and ice and give it a swirl. Many cocktail bars and restaurants in Oxford include caipirinhas on their cocktail menu, and Las Iguanas sells bottles of cachaça.

Curitiba is a beautiful city, where the historic district’s old buildings meet the lights of the university town and regional financial centre. Although the traditional Brazilian tourist spots are definitely worth a visit, there are many other cities worth visiting if you want to get a better sense of Brazil as a country. With the Olympics coming up next summer, and the Brazilian real fairly cheap at the moment, when could be better than to book flights?