Though Francis Bacon and Henry Moore, two juggernauts of 20th century Western art, were coupled stylistically early in their careers, they have been misrelated retrospectively. ‘Flesh & Bone’ is their first joint show in 50 years, selected by Martin Harrison, editor of the Francis Bacon catalogue raisonné, and Richard Calvocoressi, Director of The Henry Moore Foundation. 

 The exhibition makes a point of showing both artists’ talents for mediums they are not especially renowned in. Moore, for instance was an exceptionally good draftsman who would draw his figures relentlessly before sculpting them. His 1940 war drawings, in particular, provoke an uneasy reaction when exhibited alongside Bacon’s most haunting works – the ghostly grey-white tones of William Blake’s life mask in Study for Portrait II, for example.

Within Bacon’s celebrated painting style, on the other hand, his fascination with sculpture is easily apparent. In 1971 he wrote, ‘I think I would be able to do the figures in a really different way by painting them as a transposition of how I was going to do them in the sculptures’, and his technique is as close to sculpture as painting can be. In his studies of women, for example, he delineates leg in such a way that shadow is created merely by the lack of paint on the underside of the brush, where on the top colour is thick and full. 

Both Bacon and Moore were fascinated by the human form throughout their careers and it was from here that their most ground-breaking work stemmed. Bacon bought wholesale into Moore’s belief that “I don’t think we shall, or should, ever get far away from the thing that all sculpture is based on: the human body”.

The curators are careful to distinguish between the effects of this shared interest on both. Whereas Bacon’s works depict ‘the disintegrating and dissolving form’, Moore works “from the inside out, pushing anatomical structure to the surface”. Bacon’s textural, thick-thigh-ed figures and swollen, butcher-slab limbs provoke an even harsher reaction when set against Moore’s gaping vastness and smooth undulations.

And yet both depict fractiously kinetic forms, enthralled by the disarming emptiness of gaping mouths and sudden, distorted holes in the face and body. The loneliness of Bacon’s single figures, wrapping their bodies around themselves in the black night is echoed in Moore’s serene, otherworldly head sculptures. 

The information which intersperses the exhibition draws biographical comparisons to better explain these similarities. Bacon and Moore were both born before the First World War, with Moore serving in the trenches and both living in London during the Blitz. Francis Warner, a tutor in English literature at St Peter’s College, Oxford, suggested that both artists aimed to restore the body “to a kind of dignified, animal resignation” in the face of much human suffering. 

The artists set beside one another certainly create astounding parallels. For one who has never seen a Moore and Bacon beside one another, it is an eye-opening insight into an unconventional treatment of the human body in art. The exhibition is at once stomach-churningly visceral and disturbingly unearthly; a selection of emotions rarely combined. 

Bacon/Moore:Flesh and Bone will be showing at the Ashmolean until January 19th. Student tickets £6. 

The term ‘cuppers’ refers to pretty much any inter-college competition, but with drama, it’s so much more. Drama Cuppers in your first term is one of myriad opportunities to reinvent yourself at university.

Were you always shit at drama at GCSE? Did you become rigid with
self-doubt as you performed before your peers? Don’t worry – you will have subconsciously developed the technique and poise of a young Olivier over the course of A-Levels. It will all seem so much simpler now.

And so, around second week, you join a raggedy group of aspiring thesps and try to create something resembling a play. The standard is varied and the cracks will quickly start to show, as those who are actually any good feel their stage presence being sapped by the chorus of uncharismatic lunks downstage.

You will squeeze rehearsals between first essays in the unforgiving social landscape that is first term. As the rush to impress friends and tutors alike takes centre stage, rehearsals can be shunted to the wings. Our director was summoned to a house party by ‘this guy who has a crush on me’ during a last-minute run-through in the college bar. The show went on. 

During the festival each show is judged by a panel of judges who award prizes at the end. There is a variety: an individual can be awarded Best Actor and a performance can win Spirit of Cuppers (read: chaotic). The best shows will be given an extra performance slot on the Saturday and you’ll even be lucky enough to get a review in student publications.

Cuppers is supposed to test your initiative as well as talent, so the plays will be raw displays of adrenaline rather than the polished product of months of rehearsal. With run-time capped at 30 minutes and only four weeks to rehearse, most find themselves pressed for time to write something original and so cut great swathes out of great plays, with varying results.

Our production of Dario Fo’s two-act satire The Accidental Death of an Anarchist was unceremoniously cut to a single act. Confusing references to the ‘anarchist dancer’, who was never introduced, served to remind the audience that the play was not being performed exactly as Fo had envisaged.

The complicated denouement was pared down to a couple of hasty surprises, rounded off with the sound of a bomb exploding. However, in the gloomy recesses of the Burton Taylor Theatre, the ‘bomb’ sounded more like a burst crisp packet, and provoked an unsteady bout of clapping by the few audience members who had realised that this was the end.

And so Cuppers may be compared to a lot of things you will do in your first year at Oxford. Much like essays written while pissed at 3am, there will be aspects of the flabby and the ill-advised in this motley collection of plays, but there will also (hopefully) be flashes of brilliance.

Ultimately, Cuppers is not the most serious drama event of the year, nor should it be taken as such. Nonetheless, for that beautiful half hour on stage you are united in stardom. Those few unsteady claps will feel like champagne and confetti as they rain down on you and shower you in glory; you’ve made it. You got into Oxford and smashed the drama scene.

Soon you’ll probably become best mates with Emma Watson.

However, a passing nod will be all that remains of that once bright flare of friendship, ignited by mutual thespy ambition now quashed. But don’t let this false felicity put you off. If you’re keen on drama or just vaguely interested, signing up for Cuppers is definitely your first step.

The Oxford Revue once had a big Cambridge-sized chip on its shoulder and was known in the university press for being insular and exclusive. Clearly defi ned and obviously Oxonian, their comic output could be accused of being fettered and stale.

But those were the old days, when Godfrey Bloom was still a member of UKIP, before Miley Cyrus twerked her way into moral abstraction.

Back then, auditions at the start of Michaelmas would only admit a handful of people – that self-same bunch would stay for the whole year, performing various sketches throughout and taking a show to Edinburgh for the Fringe in the summer.

This year sees a structural reform in the Oxford Revue. One member comments, “The auditions at the beginning of the year have been scrapped and the ‘Oxford Revue’ per se no longer exists.” There will be a new termly production, open to all – Michaelmas boasts a knee-slapping cross-dressing Christmas pantomime, Aladdin, in 7th week at the Keble O’Reilly.

Fortnightly ‘Audreys’ will still take place at The Wheatsheaf on Tuesday evenings of even weeks. Auditions will be on Sunday evenings and will be open to an audience; the committee will give feedback to acts auditioning. There is also a bonus ‘Virgin Audrey’ in 4th week for those who have “never before got intimate with a microphone on stage.”

Throughout the year, the Oxford Revue Committee plans a series of “comedy events that aren’t shows”, kicking off  with an appearancefrom David Misch, writer of The Muppets, in 2nd week. It’s worth keeping an eye out for more events of this ilk: considering the wealth of alumni that the Revue boasts, they’re sure to pull in some big names.

The Revue is rebranding itself as a funding body and advisory panel. This means that anybody with an idea for a comedy show (sketch, stand-up, or otherwise) will be able to contact the team for guidance and financial help. Comic hopefuls should view these opportunities to meet other funny individuals as a kind of comedydating site: the perfect match could be waiting just around the corner.

The stress is on innovation and opportunity. This summer the Oxford Revue took With Bits to Edinburgh and came back with “great reviews and sore livers”, as well as running the ‘Free Fringe Project’. This enabled performers to do their set at a Free Fringe venue without being part of the offi cial Oxford Revue show. Recruitment for the summer will take place in Hilary term and, although there is no pressure, the aim of the Audreys is to suss out potential recruits.

Tragically, the summer is still nine long months off . In the meantime, the Revue’s message is clear: get yourself down to the Audreys and expect barrels of laughs and beer.

Find out more about the revamped Revue here