★★☆☆☆
Two Stars

Laura Marling returns with her fourth studio offering this week. She has been characterised by her ghostly complexion, heartbroken outlook and perpetual shyness, having once likened performing live to having toothache.
Despite a definite maturity in her sound on this album, it’s just really boring. The first four songs were recorded in one sitting, extensively highlighted in the press release, and probably why they all sound exactly the same. Why stretch out fourteen minutes of music that could’ve quite easily have been condensed into two?

Musically, the sitar is reminiscent of the Beatles circa 1968 which brings a sense of authenticity to proceedings but any connotations of an ‘Eastern’ feel are undermined by the open harmonies that are more Celtic than Chinese with the presence of the Baron, probably mistaken for Indian Tabla. An added layer of authenticity is added by the apparently ‘frenetic’ guitar riff that sounds as if it’s been directly lifted from Joni Mitchell’s ‘All I Want’ but without quite the same level of originality, or talent.

The lyrical landscapes which Marling constructs rescues this album. They flow out of the twenty-three year old with highlights including “when we were in love, I was an eagle and you were a dove,” and “I cured my skin, now nothing gets in” but even these remain slightly clichéd. Although comparisons will, no doubt, be drawn to other releases such as The National, and even David Bowie, in that their albums should be appreciated as a whole, ‘ a standalone work’, with utterances of the ‘resurrection of the album’ and other similarly wild assumptions, Once I Was An Eagle simply isn’t good enough. Continually trying to assert her own sense of authority and authenticity, Marling, musically at least, never quite meets the expectations placed on her for this latest offering, nor showcases the songwriting abilities we’ve come to expect of this minstrel. A resounding disappointment.

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Here in Oxford, we are hardly short of opportunities to express ourselves. In fact, glancing at the abandoned piles of unread student newspapers which clutter college JCRs, you might be left sympathising with Alexander Pope’s scornful condemnation of the ‘snows of paper’ littering the streets of London following the advent of the printing press. However, this is not a luxury enjoyed worldwide; indeed, the treatment of writers in certain countries is almost inconceivable in Britain – a fact which, to my shame, I was hardly aware of prior to my exposure to the activities of Oxford Student PEN.
2013 marks the first anniversary of the Oxford branch of the society- an offshoot of English PEN, a writer’s association established primarily to campaign under the banner of their fundamental message, ‘Freedom to Write, Freedom to Read’.

The central organisation, supported by a wealth of eminent writers and academics, seeks to ‘defend and promote free expression, and to remove barriers to literature’. Due to the global spread of the organisation, the Oxford branch of PEN has put on an extremely varied assortment of interests events in its first year, ranging from letter-writing sessions in support of Pussy Riot, to some thought-provoking visits from international writers such as the Libyan novelist, Salah Al Haddad, and three excellent poetry readings held in collaboration with Oxford University Poetry Society.

This characteristic diversity was fruitfully replicated in the anniversary event of the organisation, held last Friday at St Anne’s College. With the broad title of ‘The Defence of Poetry’, the afternoon began with a stimulating panel discussion on the topic, involving four prestigious writers and academics: Simon Altmann, Jane Griffiths, Don Paterson and Seamus Perry. Having each presented their initial thoughts on the utility of poetry in contemporary society, the discussion was opened to the floor, inviting questions on all manner of topics, which stretched from queries regarding the poet’s role and social responsibility and the relationship between poetry and politics, to the significance of poetry in  early education. While the debate proved engaging, it suffered slightly from the rather narrow outlook presented which was inevitable, given each of the panellists’ intimate relationship with the literary world. Nonetheless, the discussion provided a strong foundation for the evening’s event where, following a presentation detailing the year’s work and a drinks reception, the third ‘Poets for PEN’ reading took place.

For me, this was the highlight of the event, as it was the most effective defence of poetry exhibited that day. The reading opened with the absorbing collaboration of exiled Iraqi poet, Adnan al-Sayegh, and Jenny Lewis, in which the pair, who have been working closely together on translations, read alternately in both Arabic and English to a captivated audience. The staggering control and eloquence displayed by al-Sayegh, alongside his melodic manipulation of the language, was thrilling to watch, unhampered by my complete ignorance of Arabic. The pair were followed by Don Paterson, whose irreverent style contrasted effectively with the more solemn tone of Patrick McGuinness’s reading which closed the evening.

It may be, as Paterson noted, that poetry needs no defence, but the day’s events were a crucial reminder of the necessity of the work of organisations like PEN. We may take freedom of expression for granted in this country, but the issue remains critical on a global level, with the censorship, imprisonment and exile of writers around the world contravening what we’d consider to be our basic human rights. We need to ensure that literature retains its worth by preventing a continuation of the current pattern of inflation and devaluation- this, as the panel concluded, must be arbitrated by poets themselves through rigorous ‘self-censorship’. Perhaps, with a less saturated market, we might place a higher price not only on ‘good’ literature, but also on our freedom of self-expression.

Splashh started out in unconventional circumstances. Sasha Carlson, the band’s lead singer and my interviewee, started writing songs with his buddy Toto Vivian back in sunny Byron Bay, Australia. But they only really took off after an impromptu relocation to East London in February 2012.

It didn’t take long after that, explains Carlson. “We put up a couple of tracks online and it started to gather momentum and we were like ‘fuck, we don’t have a band!’” The duo had to start recruiting quickly, so they got on the phone home. “We didn’t have a drummer, so Jacob was flown over from New Zealand a week before the first show”. With the addition of Jacob Moore on drums and Thomas Beal on bass, Splashh, whose name apparently came about as a desire to be more easily found on Google, were formed.

They’re certainly not making your average indie guitar music either. No really, I promise, they don’t sound anything like Noah & the Whale! Carlson has difficulty describing their sound, but he fumbles with some pretty great words before settling on “ambient, kind of shoegazey, distorted kind of stuff” and citing influences from My Bloody Valentine to The Rolling Stones, who they’re supporting in Hyde Park this summer, something Carlson says he can barely believe. Speaking in further detail about the band’s upcoming debut album, Comfort, he talks about how “We thought about the track listing quite hard. The first half of the record is more the singles and the B-sides and the second half is the groovy half of the album.”

Excitingly, Splashh, who are appearing better and better-travelled by the second, have just got back from a tour of America. Surely they have some classic rock ‘n’ roll stories? “In America we really got down on drinking these things called fireballs which are like a cinnamon whisky shot,” Carlson enthuses. “We played this wicked party in Dartmouth University. That was great, we played beer pong and everything”. You’d think returning to a one-day festival in Leeds wouldn’t exactly live up to that, but Carlson remains ever-enthusiastic, saying he was “surprised” at the large crowd which gathered to see them in the Leeds University Refectory. The crowd certainly seemed to enjoy the show, though none as much as the two girls in matching denim jackets (reading ‘Splashh’ on the back) who manically sang along to every song.

By way of advice to upcoming musicians, Carlson had this to say: “Just keep writing, keep yourself busy, don’t say no to things. If an opportunity presents itself, take it because you can’t really say no in this business.”
When asked the all-important question of whether he’d rather know the exact time and place of his own death or the time and place of everyone around him, he went for the latter, explaining that the former “would freak [him] out a bit”.

Splashh’s debut album, Comfort, is released on June 3rd,

At the opening of Ksenia Levina’s first exhibition I was lucky enough to be given a tour by the artist. A history of art student at Christ Church, Ksenia describes herself as “interested in representational art made with traditional techniques”, and this certainly comes across in her beautiful portraits in a variety of media.

The longest Ksenia has sat with a model was for three hours a day for a month, to produce ‘Sylvia’, an oil on canvas portrait painted whilst she was in Florence. Ksenia explains her methods: first she draws her image, then transfers it onto the canvas, before blocking in the shadows on the face and completing the portrait. She aims for a three-dimensional look, so naturally creating the contours of her subject’s face is of high importance. ‘Sophia’ is a portrait of a model whom Ksenia met in an airport and subsequently painted in four and a half hours. She extolls the strength of her model’s face, and the striking features which make the portrait so compelling. Here the influence of Vermeer, whom Ksenia cites as an inspiration, is clear.

Ksenia draws on the art of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, especially admiring the work of Rodin, CarrieÌ€re and Schiele. Her technique of ‘fading in and out’ is taken from this period. It is prominent in pieces such as ‘Struggle’, a charcoal on paper work drawn from life and then photographed because, as Ksenia says, the pose would be much too difficult to hold for long enough. ‘After Work’, a pencil on paper portrait, is wonderfully calm and soothing, and its position on the peripheries of the exhibition makes it something which should be sought out for fear it is left unnoticed. Here we can again mark the fading technique, where the image appears to disappear at the edges and blur away. Other striking pieces include ‘Red Painting’, a dramatic work with a passionate red background that stands out from the rest of her art.

Ksenia manages to combine her degree with such a marvellous passion and talent that it is impossible to deny her the utmost admiration. She describes the collection as “an exploration of the idea of the power of the gaze”, and one can certainly note in her art the sense that one is entering a different world and someone else’s experience. Her portraits are engaging and convey a true understanding of the character behind the faces.

Dr Shmelev’s exhibition has two aims: to attract attention to the beauty of rare ecosystems, and to raise awareness about environmental concerns in economics. The main problem our world faces, Shmelev believes, is a lack of environmental awareness among economists. No-one seems to recognise that the “economy is embedded in wider biophysical processes”. His new book focuses on the problems that are created by the fact that “very few macroeconomic models include environmental concerns”. Stanislav wants economic planning that takes into account sustainability as well as inflation. He wants things to be built to last. He wants to employ local people to build and run recycling plants in developing countries. He wants to “reform economics”. Unfortunately the lack of explanatory material makes it unlikely that he will achieve any of this through this art exhibition. It does spruce up an otherwise grey corridor of the SSL, though.

The exhibition is half oil-painting, half photograph. The oils were painted on a trip to Rio for the International Union for Conservation of Nature. Ipanema beach is displayed in all its vibrancy, rendered in strong, contrasting colours. This is by far the best bit of the exhibition, with palm fronds done with stunning brush work.

Shmelev explains how he paints from a combination of sketches and photographs. For him, like every artist since Delacroix and Renoir, photography is a sketchbook. He believes that the viewfinder is very useful to develop a sense of composition. “The two art forms reinforce each other,” he says. This is his justification for an otherwise incongruous transition between oil and photograph.

His works aim to “focus on the positive side” of economic problems by celebrating “pristine ecosystems”. But without titles, or any kind of labelling system, it would be easy to miss the significance of any of the photographs. It would be easy to mistake them for simply quite-good photos of palm trees, water, flowers and seeds. Actually, I was informed, this photo is of the rare ecosystem at the 100m high sand dunes in Bordeaux. I discovered that the solitary seed was found on a beach at Pulau Redang – an island off Malaysia that is an important conservation site.

Shmelev explained to me that the island was a metaphor for what he sees as the problems that face the environment. Under huge pressure from society, what should be a haven of coral, jungle and turtles is turning into a waste-strewn holiday destination with expensive hotels that burn oil for air conditioning.

After a thought-provoking hour chatting to Shmelev I walked past a group of bored students on my way out. I wonder whether any of these business and management students will be inspired by these pictures to go on to save the world. Doubtful.