Owen Jones’ Chavs explores the differences between the disappearance of middle class Madeleine McCann, and the kidnapping of Shannon Matthews by her working class mother Karen Matthews. The stark differences between Daily Mail headlines, between public levels of suspicion and sympathy, make for an uncomfortable read: it is precisely this discomfort that Carla Kingham hopes to translate to the stage in her new play Middle England.

Paul (Francis Thomas) is a paediatrician whose stay-at-home wife Mai (Claire Bowman) finds herself caught in the middle of a media storm after their six-year-old daughter Jessica is taken. The two live comfortably in what we assume is a London townhouse. Charlie (Phoebe Hames) is a working class mother who lives on an estate just round the corner from Mai, and whose daughter Grace was taken at the same time. Charlie and her wife Dan (Ed Price) assume working class accents which come less naturally than Thomas and Bowman’s cut-glass intonation. However, this became less obvious as the preview went on, and this trend will certainly continue through rehearsals.  

I was shown three short sections at a preview last Saturday. The first section opens with both couples speaking in stereo as they each discover their child has disappeared. The actions takes place within the audience’s seating area: there is no stage to speak of and so the audience is very, very close to the action. Technically, four people conducting two conversations at the same time is difficult to implement, and still needs a little tightening up. However, the scene I saw with just the two mothers speaking was moving and confidently executed.

There are a few cast members who sit in the audience’s chairs and offer a sympathetic ear or a cynical laugh to the parents every now and then. This is especially intriguing when the couples are separated to give their individual statements to the police: each parent does this simultaneously but without their interlocutors saying a word.

The effect is creepy: each parent describes what his or her daughter was wearing, why they turned their back for ‘just a moment’, who the last person to see her was; the audience watch on with critical faculties engaged, waiting for them to slip up. The cast member they are speaking to stares back. Kingham says that these cast members represent the community and the media: unlike real-life missing child cases, they remain silent and we must guess the claustrophobic effect they will come to have on the parents.

The audience is torn between sympathy and suspicion, and the hemmed-in atmosphere of the BT will make it impossible to do exactly what we would like to do once we’ve made up our mind about a couple on a TV appeal: switch it off and go about our lives. Middle England examines our prejudices at close quarters and the confrontational nature of drama means that for the audience, as for the parents, there is no escape. 

Look Back in Anger, John Osborne’s seminal 1956 work, captured the imagination of a generation. While this hackneyed phrase can be applied to almost every book or play that is any good, Look Back in Anger really did spawn a new era in Brit­ish drama: Alan Sillitoe, one of the playwrights who wrote in the years after Look Back in Anger said Osborne “didn’t contribute to British theatre, he set off a landmine and blew most of it up”. Just like you remember where you were when the twin tow­ers fell or, for a slightly older audi­ence, when JFK was shot, theatre crit­ics who grew up post-war remember their young selves pre- and post-Look Back in Anger.

Joining Bluebeard, the Oxford Revue and a mystery comedy act that the Revue will be taking along under their wing at the Edinburgh Fringe will be Eleanor Keel and Isa­bel Marr’s production of Look Back in Anger. Ellie Keel is a third year Italian and German student, who has sort­ed out a cast and crew for the show from her slightly inconvenient posi­tion as a primary teacher in North­ern Italy. Rehearsals will begin in mid-July, concluding with a two-week run in Edinburgh in August.

Walking down Edinburgh’s Royal Mile in mid-August with leaflets be­ing thrust at you from all directions, you could be forgiven for thinking that the Fringe is the single most im­portant event in any student’s exist­ence. So Ellie and Isabel’s unruffled approach is refreshing: “We’re not sure if it will be amazing. It’s a clas­sic play and it’s not as experimen­tal as some of the weirdest things the Fringe has to offer. But we hope that its simplicity will be a breath of fresh air in itself.”

Look Back in Anger was staged to great acclaim with Judi Dench and Kenneth Branagh in the classic 1989 production. Keel is keen that this not be a “carbon copy” of that produc­tion, as it is futile to try to replicate something as well-loved and cited.

They hope to capture the passion of the play in an abridged version, as the script is widely considered to be too long. It is easy to see similarities between playwright John Osborne’s life and views, and those of Jimmy. Their unhappy marriages are very similar, and Osborne was funda­mentally unafraid to speak the un­speakable: this led him to question without ceremony the existence of the British monarchy, but also per­haps left him short-sighted when it came to editing Jimmy’s hard-hit­ting but manifold tirades. Cuts have been made but adaptation would be futile, as the play is so deeply rooted in the mindset of the 50s.

The now-familiar contemptuous anti-hero who rants his way through the political wrongs of the age was done first and best by Jimmy, Os­borne’s ‘angry young man’ of the post-war Midlands. His tirades are full of delightful lyricism and un­comfortable violence: attacks on entrenched class divides are easy to nod along to, while the systematic and cruel undermining of his wife Alison is slightly more difficult to swallow.

Set in a small Derby flat which Ali­son and Jimmy share with their oth­er flatmate Cliff, who is in love with Alison, the love-square is complete with the addition of Alison’s upper-class best friend, Helena. Lines like Jimmy’s musing that “it’s pretty dreary living in the American Age — unless you’re an American of course” still ring true.

Look Back in Anger hasn’t lost its kick with age: Jimmy’s resentment remains difficult to watch for a gener­ation that has no shortage of ‘angry young men’ of its own. Here’s hoping this can be translated to the convert­ed church in Edinburgh where it’s set to be staged.

★★★★☆
Four Stars

The newest American-breakout band, Surfer Blood, are about to be massive! With a new album set for release on the 11th June, Pythons, and a new major record deal with Warner Bros. the four-piece from Florida are up for a successful summer. This is further supplemented by a current stint supporting Foals on the American stint of their tour before embarking on a festival-filled summer, taking in the likes of Best Kept Secret in Amsterdam and Reading and Leeds.

Whilst all of this inevitably leads to a sense of hype surrounding Pythons, for once they actually live up to it. If you used to like the Vaccines, before they sold their souls to Teeny-Boppers and Radio 1, you’ll love Surfer Blood. Their writing has a sense of earnestness comparable to Savages recent release Silence Yourself, and a rhythmic looseness last heard on Peace’s In Love. Although both of these comparisons are to British bands, Surfer Blood retain their American roots with a sense of ‘airiness’ and positive outlook that could only have come from across the pond.

The opening track ‘Demon Dance’ is simple surf-rock at its finest with its simple three chord structure and soaring slide guitar melody. Whilst this is an album built on simplicity, there is still a sense of depth, comparable to the current B-town scene here, and quite unlike anything American we’ve heard this year, detached from the mainstream but with the potential to go global.

With ‘Gravity’ comes a more urgent and driven offering, focusing the simple riffs and melody into a powerful offering, only to be outdone by the next track ‘Weird Shapes’ which becomes euphoric. Although Surfer Blood, and lead singer John Paul Pitts, are generally gentle in their musical efforts, this track is interjected with psychedelic screams which bring a sense of aggression to proceedings. Although only three tracks into the album, this is one of the best ‘three track streaks’ around and a clear indication of great things to come, both during the remainder of the album, and for Surfer Blood this summer. Watch out.

Track To Download: Demon Dance

★★☆☆☆
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.

Track To Download: …

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.