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Wolfson accused of suppressing free speech

Wolfson College has been accused of a “disgraceful” suppression of free speech after cancelling a talk from a prominent anti-Zionist at the last minute.

Dr Taj Hargey, the chairman of MECO (Muslim Educational Centre of Oxford), had organised a talk from Rabbi Ahron Cohen. The title of the talk was “Zionism is not Judaism-Anti-Israelism is not Anti-Semitism”.

According to Dr Hargey the talk was organised months ago, but was only cancelled by officials at Wolfson College on Wednesday evening, less than 24 hours before the event was scheduled to take place.

The talk was quickly reorganised however, eventually taking place at St. Edwards School on Woodstock Road.
Rabbi Cohen is a member of the Neturei Kart, an ultra-Hasidic sect of Judaism which is deeply opposed to Zionism. Dr Hargey points that he is not necessarily anti-Zionist, but believes in the power of free speech.
“This man with views that are contrary to the conventional popular view should be given a hearing.”

“This is a disgraceful episode in the history of Oxford University, when we allow a group of people to say ‘no, you can’t come’.”

Hargey claimed the talk was cancelled on “the pretext that MECO hadn’t given advanced identity of the speaker”.

However, MECO have a long history of holding talks at Wolfson, and have had a number of prominent speakers at the college over the past 5 years. MECO claims to have followed exactly the same protocol that they have used in the past.
A spokesman for Wolfson College defended the decision, saying that “the booking was not made transparently.”

“Wolfson supports free speech, and is happy to host speakers of all opinions. However, where a speaker is likely to be controversial or provocative, or has the potential to cause offence to college members, it is the college’s policy to discuss among the Governing Body whether and how to hold the event, including whether opposing voices should be included in the event.”

He added, “As this speaker was booked under the identity of a college member who knew nothing about the booking and the real identity of the speaker became apparent only yesterday, there was no opportunity to hold these discussions.”

Israeli Cultural Society President James Fox said he didn’t feel that Wolfson’s actions had violated freedom of speech.
“It seems that calling it a suppression of free speech might be a convenient excuse for MECO’s lack of compliance with Wolfson College’s own procedures. “

The talk went ahead at St Edwards School on Thursday evening. The location of the talk, which was attended by more than 60 people, was kept secret until a few hours before the debate.

Dr Hargey has recently won a 3 year libel court case after being branded a heretic. He wants to bring reforms to the Muslim society, and often encourages females and males to pray together. He also brought a female imam to Oxford to lead prayers on one occasion.

He commented that the cancellation of the talk was the day that “free speech lost and censorship won.”

Exeter MCR stripped of Page 3

A mystery member of Exeter College has been ripping The Sun’s notorious Page 3 from the MCR’s copy of the newspaper.

The vandalism went on “daily, diligently” until a warning message sent to MCR members put a stop to the defacement last week.

The page, which features a photo of a scantily clad female, was torn out each morning, preventing others from reading stories on the other side.

Sahana Ghosh, the vice-president of the MCR, told members of the college, “Tearing a page out is NOT an acceptable way of showing enjoyment or disapproval-the paper is meant for all members of the MCR and this does not please members who find an unreadable story because the first half is gone every single morning.”

The motive behind the incidents is still unknown, but several members of the college have suggested the move was a political statement. One MCR member said, “My inkling is that it was a religious or feminist protest rather than a Page 3 collector.”

One first year History and Politics student commented, “I think that person should be applauded, as it is disgusting that we are still degrading women in what is the biggest selling paper in the country.”

But whatever the motive, the MCR is determined to put a stop to it. Ghosh warned graduates, “We have ways and means of finding out who is doing this and so there are suspects. In other words, you are being watched, so please stop.”
Ghosh added, “The newspapers are delivered to the MCR and kept in everyone’s view-the person(s) would definitely have been seen doing it had s/he/they been doing it in the presence of anyone in the MCR.”

She told students, “The MCR pays good money for its newspapers and will not tolerate vandalism of its property.” The culprit may also face disciplinary action, she warned.

Anyone objecting to the page for moral reasons should bring the issue up through official channels. She said, “If it irks you so much, bring it up and we can assure you a fair hearing.”

 

Smear campaign targets Nobel Prize winner

Derek Walcott has been targeted this week by a vicious and systematic smear campaign against his candidacy for Oxford’s Professor of Poetry. Authors, academics and journalists internationally have received anonymous letters alluding to Walcott’s history of sexual harassment.

The accusations refer to incidents while Walcott held professorial posts at Boston and Harvard Universities.

Between 50 and 100 anonymous envelopes were sent to female fellows and female heads of colleges and departments in Oxford. These contained photocopied pages from The Lecherous Professor, a book recounting allegations made by a student at Harvard against the Nobel Prize-winning poet. The book, written by Linda Weiner and Billie Wright, examines incidents of sexual harassment on college campuses. In the photocopied six-page extract, it describes how Walcott, then a lecturer at Harvard, made inappropriate proposals to a student during a discussion of her work.

Authors across the world also received an anonymous note from a “group of women students at Oxford University” requesting that a letter be written to The Guardian and the University Press Office in objection to Walcott’s nomination.

The hand-written envelopes were mailed from Mount Pleasant in London.

Ankhi Mukherjee, a fellow of Wadham college and senior lecturer at the faculty of English described how she received her package on April 29.

“I was one of the first people to receive it,” she said. “I don’t think this is what should we be looking for as Professor of Poetry. I’m very much against these statements. We should be reading him and we should not meet him.”

The editors of Cherwell Newspaper also received two copies of these anonymous letters. Hand-written notes were attached, encouraging the editors to look at the photocopied pages.

The first note said, “Gini, what do we think of Hermione Lee running the campaign for this guy to come to Oxford as the Poetry Professor. Worth a piece? Sandra + Jane.” The other note read, “Derek, sent Gini a note about this as well. I really think Hermione Lee is mad to try to bring this guy in. What say you? Sandra + Jane.”

Cherwell conducted an interview with Ruth Padel on April 29. Following the interview, Emily Paddon, a doctoral student at St Antony’s college and a friend of Ruth Padel, contacted Cherwell and raised the issue of Walcott’s history.

“The only thing I did was to send an e-mail to colleagues and friends about the issue,” she commented. “I’ve been reading about this in the newspapers. I was concerned that the university has not publicised this issue. The emails were very factual–no judgment, no opinion.” Paddon condemned the smear campaign and denied any involvement.

Seth Abramson, a published poet and former staff attorney at the New Hampshire Public Defender described how a note was posted on his blog from an unknown source at Oxford University.

The note read, “We are a group of women students at Oxford University and find [Walcott’s history] shocking and insulting. We would welcome your help, in demonstrating to the University and the British public, that Walcott’s sexual harassment and blackmail of women students are not mere ‘allegations,’ as the British press assert, but a matter of record, with deeply offensive transcripts available in books and online.

“Quite the opposite of Professor Lee’s assertion, we feel that electing a proven campus sexual predator, who is on record as admitting harassment in at least two cases, would shame not honour Oxford. The post is voted for by teachers at Oxford University. We feel the English Faculty is suppressing Walcott’s record. No one in Oxford or Britain knows or believes it. We find it scandalous, almost unbelievable, that it is a woman educator who is Walcott’s chief supporter in Oxford and in public.”

The letter went on to ask the public to write e-mails to the Guardian newspaper and a press officer at Oxford University.

The note had several signatures, but Abramson later received an e-mail from one of the named persons, saying that they had not been involved with the post and asking to have their names removed.

Abramson expressed a belief that Walcott was an inadequate candidate. “If might be different–only might–if Walcott had, at a minimum, apologized profusely for his actions and sought some sort of training in the appropriate instruction of adolescents, but as near as I can tell that’s never happened.”

Walcott won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1992 and he has also won the Queen’s Gold Medal for Poetry and the WH Smith Literary Award in recent years.

In 1992, an anonymous student in a creative writing class taught by Walcott at Harvard claimed that the poet had propositioned her ten years earlier during a discussion of her work. When she refused his advances, he gave her a “C” grade.

According to the Harvard Crimson, the University’s newspaper, Walcott did not deny the student’s testimony. His teaching style was “deliberately personal and intense,” he alleged.

The Crimson published a letter by the student containing an account of the conversation. The student claimed that, after she sent the letter, Walcott was “cold and distant”, showed “no concern for my education” and “did not fully evaluate my work as he did with other students of the class.” Harvard University has officially reprimanded Walcott.

In 1995, the poet was accused of sexually harassing a student in a class he taught at Boston University. The student claimed that he had propositioned her. After she declined, he threatened to fail her and refused to produce her play. She later pressed for compensation and punitive damages.

Professor Hermione Lee, a campaigner for Derek Walcott, was disgusted by the smear campaign. “I am shocked and astonished that someone has been using these sorts of anonymous tactics,” she said. “Why are these tactics being used? It is a conceited campaign, to put things into an envelope with no name.”

“These allegations are from 25 years ago and we should have an argument in a proper manner. It’s a very complicated, ethical question and it should be properly debated.”

She added, “You might ask yourself as a student body whether you wanted Byron or Shelley as a professor of poetry, neither of whom had personal lives free from criticism.”

Lee expressed concern that the letters were sent by Walcott’s competitors. “I can only assume that they were send by Ruth Padel’s campaigners. I would like to disassociate myself from such behaviour.”

Professor Pedro Ferreira, Ruth Padel’s campaigner, disputed the claim. “I haven’t heard anything about this. I know and have heard of the book, but I haven’t heard that the book has been sent out to people.”

He added, “I know there are people who are angry about this but I completely deny Ruth Padel’s involvement with such a campaign. We have nothing to do with this and we condemn it.”

Students have expressed concern about the allegations made against Walcott. Katy Theobald, president of Oxford Women in Politics commented, “If the sexual harassment claims were separate from Walcott’s public work then these claims would be irrelevant. If he were to be elected for the post, there would be concerns that these issues would once more affect his work.”

Hannah Cusworth, Oxford University Labour Club’s Women’s Officer and a member of Women’s Campaign said, “I can’t condone sexual harassment. I just want a fantastic poet as opposed to someone who would upset people if he was elected.”

Oxford funding drive faces dwindling donations

Oxford University’s plans to raise more than a billion pounds are faltering after it was revealed that the rate of donations to the high-profile fundraising drive have slowed dramatically.

The University’s Oxford Thinking campaign has so far achieved almost half of its ambitious £1.25bn target, raising more than £104m since its high profile launch last May.

Approximately £75m of this sum was, however, donated in the first three months following the launch, with a mere £29m accumulated by the University in the following nine.

The measley figure means that the total for this financial year, which runs from July to August, looks set to fall well below the previous years of the campaign. The University amassed more than £100m in the previous financial year, a total the campaign seems unlikely to match in just three months.

The general slowing of the campaign would appear to be supported by the donation figures published on University’s campaign website. There, the University publishes its largest named donations, but the pages only report £2.45m large named donations to the institution since July 2008—a mere 0.195% of the campaign’s ambitious aim.

Official pledges and new gifts from August 2004 – July 2008 amount to £624m, although the cash actually received was £311m. This means that the University is almost halfway towards its aim of £1.25bn, with pledged donations included.

This news comes as Oxford’s Vice-Chancellor John Hood praised Oxford Thinking in a termly letter to staff this week, particularly commending philanthropist James Martin’s pledge of $50m in matched funding.
The Oxford Thinking fundraising crusade was first launched in 2004, with the drive operating in a “quiet phase” before a global launch in May of last year, amid much fanfare.

In his letter, Hood also urging them to maximise efficiency and exercise “care and restraint” around the University in light of the current economic situation. He called for a review of investments and announced a new recruitment protocol. As part of it the creation of new posts will need to have very strong justification and the refiling of vacant posts will be subject to a process of careful review. No redundancies are currently planned.

“Amid all the current economic travails, we must not lose sight of the need to safeguard a future for the generations that follow us,” said Hood. “We must maintain our cash position in the short term and return to building surplus budgets in the future.

“This will inevitably present challenges for all of us” he added. “I would like to thank colleagues in advance for their help in meeting these challenges.”

Staff across Oxford acknowledged that the institution would have to tighten its belt in light of the credit crunch and dwindling flow of donations.

One University employee confirmed that everybody has been “tighter financially”. They said, “That’s the situation and we will have to deal with it.”

Meanwhile a spokesman for Oxford University added, “It is also fair to say that everyone in the University is alert to the potential impact of the global financial downturn on fundraising.”

Tabassum Rasheed, a first year PPE student, commented that she is not sure how University’s financial problems will affect her life as a student.
“I’m not sure how this obvious drop in funding will translate to students. Government decides on fees and in terms of accommodation it is college based,” she said. “I really hope that Oxford will continue to provide excellent services it provides. But right now, I have no idea how the drop in funding will affect me and I find that really scary.”

Hacking in Parnassus

‘Midas’ brood shall sit in Honour’s chair

To which the Muses’ sons are only heir.’

So went Marlowe’s mock-prophecy in ‘Hero and Leander’, foreseeing a day when all pretenders to the poetic title would be bloated lickspittles struggling for place. By such a rationale, the true artists would be ignored outcasts, haunters of darkened and bohemian walks. An intellectual Class War wore on forever more. Manning the barricades were the True Poets, raffish Marlowe, Pope the mad and bitter little ‘lasher’, the deranged killer Richard Savage and his eulogist Doctor Johnson, and every variety of wasting Romantic. Crossing the picket-line were all Laureates, Southey, Wordsworth and Tennyson in command, and any literary figure who accepted a knighthood or other state honours. Declining became declaiming; Benjamin Zephaniah’s rejection of an OBE on anti-imperialist grounds was like Larkin’s famous spurning of the Laureateship, though his attitude was purer: less rooted in principle and more in the thoroughly poetic sensibilities of distaste and boredom.
Oxford’s chair of poetry has not generally been regarded as cursed, or grubby, to the same extent as the national laureateship. This is perhaps peculiar, because it is after all directly elected rather than appointed by an elected leader. The process leading up to the Professor’s selection is under widespread scrutiny, and any degree-holder of the University is of course an elector. Each candidate will have a circle of supporters, and will to some degree display their credentials, sometimes in situations with all the political dignity of a JCR husting. Yet we, the public, trust the idea of a vaguely bookish Convocation so much more than we do any form of politician that this post is assumed to possess more integrity than the Laureateship, whose holder is expertly plucked out by the tarnished governmental machine. It should be recalled that Arcadian dons and their self-important graduate ex-pupils can be grubby as well. For example, the 1938 election of Adam Fox as Professor was generally regarded as sewn up by the clout of JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis; Fox belonged to their Inkling clan.
By happy chance for hacks of all description, literary and Oxonian, this May was destined to see both poetic luminaries replaced, and by the same token both systems of poetic politics, Augustan patronage and Athenian democracy, put on trial. In an Oxford that has been bruised by internal governance arguments for a while, this was likely to produce an educative contrast anyway. Does Nanny know best? Will the Prime Minister’s Royal Prerogative and elite advice, or Convocation’s thrashed out debate, show the better intellectual taste? Mr. Brown & c., in one of their more astute recent decisions, set the standard for our University’s sense of competition high by appointing Carol Ann Duffy. Popular and canonical, Duffy always showed capacity to tease, chafing under humourless fiascos, like one exam board’s feeble, ad rappum argument that her poetry might fuel knife-crime. To get her across that picket-line was the right political decision, and it was not really the wrong poetic one. Simon Armitage, say, might be about as admired nationally, but the Barack vibe is not really with him. The gay community, the female sex and the Scots nation are a good deal more content than they would be with the headline ‘First Northern Poet Since The Last But One, And Before Him, Wordsworth’, and they are right to be. Obama was said to have introduced ‘poetry’ to politics; the nature of the Laureateship obviously makes it preferable that its choice can connote similar excitement.
Duffy represented her selection and consent as a victory for all woman poets. One of the women she stated was equally deserving of her Laureateship was Ruth Padel, who is one of the two likely winners of our chair of Poetry. Padel’s campaign website cites a blurb from Duffy in glowingly collective terms; the new Laureate (who is presented as such – the Padel party is up to date) claims to speak ‘in common with the community of poets in Britain’ through her endorsement. Perhaps she’s right; Oxford’s undergraduate Poetry Society gave Padel a vinous evening, a well-attended reading and an opportunity to distribute sign-up sheets both for graduate backers and undergraduate bag-carriers. But Duffy’s apostrophe to a ‘community of poets in Britain’ seems at worst similar to the Archbishop of Canterbury musing upon ‘the Church of England’ – a bit optimistic and ethereal. Would the great sociopaths, Marlowe, Savage, Blake and so on, really have relished membership of any such poets’ community, even with £5000 a year and travel expenses covered?
This is why I suspect that it will actually assist the cause of Derek Walcott that somebody is digging up stories about some past sexual depredations. The choice has become more distinguishable and the intellectual positions more clear; the ‘metropolitan favourite’, a duchess of the ‘poetic community’ ennobled by Queen Carol Ann, is now up against not only a Living Special Author (this is an English degree joke, for which I apologise), but a socially unnegotiable titan, the stuff of the Deptford tavern, of Lord Rochester’s stab in the dark. Professor Hermione Lee, in her incarnation as a Walcott heavy, got right onto this: ‘You might ask yourself as a student body whether you wanted Byron or Shelley as a professor of poetry, neither of whom personal lives were free of criticism.’
Sometimes, just before a dead, great writer is invoked in an essentially extra-textual context, the air seems to throb, as it must have done when Dr. Faustus summoned Mephistopheles. This was surely one such moment. The revenants of the second-generation Romantics, eerily youthful and beautiful, doubtless sprung up before Lee’s quailing vision.

Shelley: For what cause have you gathered our pure souls?
Do England’s children groan in slavery still?

Byron: Say rather, Hermione, my fairest, whether Sere Hellas cowers still ‘neath Turkish leather.

Professor Lee: Well, actually, er, Percy, George, it’s about the election for our Professor of Poetry. You see, Derek Walcott…

(The spirits vanish in a miffed and disappointed whirlwind. The Professor and Bowden of Cherwell exchange a glance of subdued relief.)

It’s hard to escape the suspicion that if the Cantabrigian Byron or the professionally awkward Shelley cared in the least about such a contest, they would be behind the newcomer, Arvind Mehrotra. His sudden arrival in the lists bears a memory of Byron’s Giaour in its drama:
The spur hath lanced his courser’s sides;
Away, away, for life he rides…
Besides, were Mr. Mehrotra Byron himself the Romanticism of his poetry would still be outdone by that of his beard. But onlookers of a more staid sort, such as the undergraduates who scurried to hear Christopher Ricks’s every address, may be starting to regret that poets, with their frenetic support bases and tabloid electioneering, are involved at all. Andrew Motion, thank heaven, thought the job was vague and the pay lousy. If all Grub Street followed suit, perhaps we would be treated to the more edifying spectacle of two or three affable dons chatting it out.

 

In Vogue

If you’ve ever watched The Devil Wears Prada, Ugly Betty, or flicked through a copy of a Condé Nast magazine, you’d be forgiven for assuming that plain and bookish Oxford is a million miles away from Vogue House. Well, having paid a quick visit there myself I’d argue that the two are more closely related then you might think. Like your college, Vogue House is grand and imposing from the outside and has an impressive foyer; but once you get into the offices it is rather more mundane. Like Oxford University, the world of Vogue is one outsiders associate with enormous prestige and glamour but is, in reality, manned by hard-working, ordinary people who are probably a bit fatigued. Vogue House and Oxford University even share some of the same characters. You’d be surprised by how many people you’d recognise: the kindly, elderly gentleman porter who knows everyone’s business, the boho-cum-sloaney young girls with back-brushed bed-hair and, most importantly, the accomplished, formidable and rather stern tutor. Who I am about to meet.
Alexandra Shulman is not impolite, by any standards, but she is brisk. Editor of Vogue for 17 years, working for so long at the head of the most profitable British magazine has taught Shulman that there is little time in the working day for idle chit-chat!
Shulman seems somewhat more skilled in avoiding controversy than her US counterpart Anna ‘Nuclear’ Wintour, but all the same many people see Vogue as promoting an aesthetic which is both impractical and inaccessible. I begin the interview by asking Alexandra what she feels the magazine is really for. ‘Well I have always thought that Vogue has to do with a vision of a world that actually does exist and is attainable. But it is the best end of it, really. It is the bit that deals with beauty, glamour, style: ‘fine living’. But I don’t think it is totally about money and about being rich, it’s about an attitude. And I think people like Vogue because they don’t buy it to look at their own lives, but to look at something that they might aspire to or might admire.’
Surely themes of aspiration and ‘fine living’ have had to be handled differently of late. Shulman recently said that she didn’t want people to find the magazine ‘offensive’, and I ask her to clarify: ‘I think in a recession what you have to be careful of is the fact that a lot of people are losing their jobs, and if you sound too glib about fashion and spending money, then that could be offensive to people who have found themselves suddenly with much less money and with real worries. But there is a limit to how far we can adapt – Vogue is what it is. A few issues ago we did our credit-crunch guide which was ‘40 Tips for Fabulous Frugality’. It was a bit tongue-in-cheek but with some really quite practical, good ideas.’
If anyone is qualified to pass judgement on which designer epitomises and leads the fashion of the noughties, it’s Alexandra, so I ask who the designer of our era is, expecting Miuccia Prada, or perhaps Marc Jacobs. ‘I think Miuccia Prada has been incredibly influential both in terms of her collections, but also in her vision of the growth of Prada brand. They have taken a small, expensive luggage company, and made it into a global fashion phenomenon. Their advertising is always looked at by everybody to see what they are doing, their stores are always incredibly confidently designed. And I have hardly ever seen a bad collection. But in terms of an individual designer, outside of the business and the brand, I think Nicholas Ghesquière from Balenciaga is pretty fantastic.’
It intrigues me that one person can look so fondly on both the work of both Balenciaga and Prada. The former whose collections have been rife with exotic fabrics, painfully sharply-tailored suits, armour-like dresses, gold robot leggings and general desirability and the latter whose looks have featured awkward, top-heavy silhouettes, dirty colours, tweed, strange pixie-hats and a refusal to make women into sex-symbols (or, at least, not in a traditional way). But it seems that variety is paramount to Alexandra’s vision of the magazine: ‘I have personal taste in fashion photography but I really don’t impose that on the magazine. I have deliberately got fashion editors with different styles, and we work with different photographers so that we are a broad canvas unlike, for instance, American Vogue or French Vogue, which are much more consistent in the way they present their fashion. I mean, all of those shoots could have been by the same person because it is so very clear what each magazine’s vision is. I like to think you can look at a Tim Walker shoot in British Vogue or look at a Nick Knight shoot and they’re completely different.’
This talk about the identity of UK Vogue makes me wonder what Shulman considers her greatest achievements in her time there. She responds modestly, only crediting herself in relation to other, more well-known talents: ‘I think I’ve been successful at working with the team that I work with. I backed Mario Testino relatively early on, in fact, before he was shooting for any other big magazines. I discovered Nigella Lawson as a food writer so I was quite pleased by that – that took off! The thing I would most like people to think about Vogues I have edited is that when you look at them they do have some feeling of the times, that they do reflect the times. And I think in the main they do. When I look back I often think ‘Well actually, yeah, we did have something about whatever it was that was going on’. If you’re going to write about grunge you would want to look at Vogue because you can see the way that art was changing and fashion was changing.’
Sat at Shulman’s desk, the interview isn’t rushed, the phone isn’t ringing off the hook, nobody outside in the bigger office seems all that crazed. I ask how frantic Shulman’s working life really is: ‘Well you can see it looks quite calm and normal in here, really. It depends, sometimes it is intensely busy. There are phases of the year when I know what I am doing every half-hour for the next four weeks and then there are periods when it is much slower and much more normal.’ Although she only uses Facebook for a very healthy ‘five minutes every three days’, it would seem that Shulman has enough time for life’s smaller pleasures. I ask what music she’s listening to: ‘Well I’m currently obsessed with Spotify. It’s some online thing, to download, and you go into it and you can type in…I was going to say Lady Gaga but it is interesting to do somebody older. Type in David Bowie, say, and every single version of everything he has ever done is on there that you can listen to, you can’t buy it but you can listen to it. I like kind of recherché cover versions of old Dylan songs and things like that. So it is perfect to play around on. But I haven’t bought any really new music recently. I kind of like those Indie people like Fleet Foxes. I like soppy Indie music, mainly!’
As I say, working at Condé Nast seems just like working as an Oxford student, but with more money and less Relentless/Red Bull-dependency. So if you’re the sort that doesn’t want to uproot from the Oxford lifestyle, entirely, and you quite like the sound of Vogue House, fear not – I have sought advice on your behalf. ‘You’ve got to be quite persistent now. I don’t think you can just waltz in and be lovely. I think you’ve really got to use your intelligence, find the right person to get in touch with, put together a good CV. Its not just about how much amazing work experience you’ve got, but also you have to sound like you’re on the ball; don’t make spelling mistakes, things like that. Always write something that indicates why you specifically want to do this thing, because as soon as you think you’ve got a round-robin letter, you’re not interested.’
And then? ‘Once you’ve got in to do work experience or something, being really willing and organised goes a very long way, whether you’re working in the fashion room, beauty room or my office. We really notice that – people who just come in and say ‘I’m not doing anything – is there anything I can do to help?’ and in the main most people that have come here and been good at work experience have, I’ve noticed, ended up with jobs.’

Off the Wall and into the theatre

The lights in the theatre went down and the evening’s performance of In a Thousand Pieces drew to a close. The audience, aware that fifty-five minutes of harrowing and powerful theatre on the harshness of the British sex trade and the extent of people’s ignorance had come to an end, clapped their hands in appreciation of a show that combined intense physicality with unnerving humour.

The lights came back on. There they were, our three polish immigrant girls, stood frozen in the same position as before the blackness. The clapping stopped and the silence began. Who would leave first? I asked myself; were we even supposed to leave now? After about fifteen seconds – a mixture of quizzical shuffling and reverential silence – people at the back began to leave. Eventually we followed the now departing crowd, and glancing back I noticed that not one lip had shifted, not a hair had moved. They stood like statues as the audience turned their backs and went.

This gives you an idea of the type of drama that the North Wall Arts Centre brings to Oxford. Lying a couple of miles outside of Oxford centre in Summertown, the theatre opened in 2007, yet only really took off last year. Since then it has taken on a very exciting and significant role in the cultural landscape of Oxford. Putting on shows not large enough to sustain an audience at the Playhouse, yet too small for the Burton Taylor and others, this remarkable centre sits somewhere in the middle, offering visitors a vibrant programme of work alternative to the Oxford mainstream of, on the one hand, popular yet pricy professional shows, and, on the other, hit-and-miss student drama.

The Paper Birds, for example, are a theatre company plucked out of University obscurity and propelled onto the national stage. Endorsement from Willy Russell, sell-out Edinburgh fringe stints and Amnesty awards have followed. Dan Dason, director of programming, says ‘we aim to deliver an ambitious programme that will attract a wide audience, but with young people at its heart. For me the key to achieving this is by offering a diversity of the highest quality work – full of skill, daring, innovation and depth; work that takes risks and pushes boundaries, that thrills, challenges, moves, enlightens and entertains. Fundementally though, I want work that excites me. If it doesn’t do that why should an audience like it?’

And it is not simply audiences that are excited by what North Wall has to offer. Artistic director of the company, Jemma Mcdonnel told me, ‘When we were planning this tour and told people we’d be at the North Wall, they were impressed. Its reputation in the industry is very good’.

North Wall has also made an impact for its innovative design. The centre has won a number of accolades, including a national award from the Royal Association of British Architects. I must confess that when I heard that the building housing the main drama studio was once a Victorian swimming baths, worried images filled my head of a long and thin room, gutted out and clinical. I realised walking into the main auditorium that my fears were unfounded, and probably unfairly based on a preconceived idea of what my local ramshackle pool would look like as a theatre. It is, in the words of one performer, ‘absolutely stunning’. What hits you instantly is the shape of the room which is narrow and rectangular, yet feels very intimate due to the proximity of the upper balconies and slightly raised seating at the sides. The use of wood is also interesting, especially the great emphasis on beams in the ceiling. It feels warm, natural and inviting, yet the palate of light browns, greys and terracotta simultaneously creates a slightly sombre feel. For a play with both playful and serious elements to it like In a Thousand pieces the space worked well.

‘Theatres should feel special’ says Danson, ‘not for architectural reasons or the decor, but because they are spaces of possibility, spaces where unique experiences can take place. It is after all one of the few if not the only remaining places where we come together with strangers to stare at other strangers often doing things that we wouldn’t otherwise be allowed to watch, laugh or cry at.’ It is for this reason that he picks shows that engage the audience in different ways. Over the next few weeks, a visit to North Wall a must for Oxford’s drama lovers to see work ranging from Flhip-Flhop, which combines elements of hip-hop with witty dialogue, to Edinburgh Fringe First Award winning Paperweight, an (almost) silent comedy of surprising tenderness about two men trapped in a mindless office. For the musically minded, jazz and classical happily cohabit the schedule with performances by the Brodsky Quartet and BBC Jazz award winning saxophonist Julian Siegel.

Whenever I told fellow students I was planning to write this article, the responses largely fell into two categories: either they had heard about the great work that goes on but had never gone, or simply did not know about it. Having visited the centre, I must say Oxford, you are missing out! A £5 concession for students and a fifteen minute bike ride are small price to pay for alternative drama of the highest calibre in a setting which can be described in one word: special.

Want to find out more? Visit www.thenorthwall.com for detailed listings and information about the theatre.

Why rights campaigners have got it all wrong

I do not want to have my conversations picked up by street-based microphones. I do not want anyone to have access to my phone calls and emails without a judicial permit, and I certainly do not want to be breaking the law if I walk down the street without an ID card. All of these are government proposals which truly threaten my liberties and privacy. Storing my DNA on a national database poses no such threat, which is why I am saddened and frankly surprised at the public outrage that surrounds talk of DNA storage.

The European Court of Human Rights recently ordered the British government to destroy 857 000 DNA samples of innocent people, claiming that holding such information was an unacceptable breach of civil liberties.
Yet in what tangible way is my life affected if the government holds a small sample of my saliva on a database? Will anyone who attacks me be more likely to feel cold fury of British justice? Probably. Will I be more swiftly caught if I am overcome by a sudden urge to rape? Almost certainly. Will I become the helpless victim of an unstoppable, all-powerful police state? Most definitely not.

When the bold warriors of civil liberties such as Shami Chakrabarti (who I agree with on most occasions) decry the loss of our rights to the evil database, I wonder exactly which rights she is talking about. She may mean the right to keep my genetic sequence (which I don’t even know) a secret. Well thank the Lord for her efforts. I’ve spent too many nights tossing and turning for fear that someone may discover the series of Gs, Cs, As and Ts that indicate to the expert eye what I look like. More likely, she may mean the right not to have my genetic information shared with outside interests like insurance companies. In defending this right she is entirely justified, but her argument should be one for stringent safeguards, not for throwing out DNA information along with all its immense potential for good. With the appropriate security measures in place we can enjoy the innumerable benefits of a DNA database without worrying that our information is being shared.

The extraordinary possibilities of a DNA database for fighting crime are undeniable. We should not let the governments spurious claims about the potential of ID cards for combating terrorism lead us to believe that everything they say is nonsense. Between 2001 and 2005, DNA evidence led to 8500 previously unconvicted people being linked to 14000 offences, including 114 murders and 116 rapes. This technology helps to maintain the Bri

tish murder conviction rate as one of the best in the world.

Aside from a vast archive of personal details including age, occupation and address, we all willingly hand over our dental records, eye prescription and vaccination history to the clawing hands of the state. The government already possesses extensive information on us, none of which is so invaluable to crime prevention, so why the uproar when it comes to DNA?

A common cry of protest is that innocent people’s data is being held, which apparently criminalises them before they’ve done anything wrong. But storing an innocent’s information is not some outrageous presumption that they will commit a crime, just a realistic acceptance that they might.

Furthermore, no reasonable person can question the strength of DNA evidence. Professor Sir Alec Jeffreys, a pioneering scientist of DNA fingerprinting, informs us that the chances of a match between two unrelated people is one in ten trillion. Second rounds of testing can limit the possibility of human error, and all the evidence must be examined by the defence, the prosecution and the judge. Thanks to DNA technology, Sean Hodgson has just been realised after serving twenty-seven years for a murder he didn’t commit. While most agree that DNA evidence should only form part of a case, it is immeasurably more reliable in determining who has been where than eyewitness reports so often distorted by the imperfections of memory.

If the government ever tries to force an ID card in my pocket, or listen to my phone calls without just cause, I’ll be the first marching through London with a banner of protest. But when it comes to DNA the British public consensus needs to stop, think, and realise that it is wrong. There are many genuine enemies to be fought in defence of civil liberties – the DNA database is not one of them.

Inequality and Sexism are taken for granted

One can only imagine what it must feel like to be a certain censorious Exonian this week. Having spent the last few weeks engaged in a clandestine campaign to tear asunder Exeter MCR’s copy of the Sun, he or she would have awoken last Friday to some new information. Women are, according to a shiny new report from OUSU, largely absent from senior roles within almost every aspect of University life.

Despite our supposed meritocratic ideals, men vastly outweigh women as JCR Presidents, heads of academic departments, and leaders of virtually all of Oxford’s political societies, including OULC, OULD and OUCA. The latter seems to be a particular offender – a piffling 3.5% of Conservative Association presidents have been women. Hardly surprising when the current president Anthony Boutall’s only response to the figures was to point out that he respected lots of women: “I do not just mean the perhaps obvious cases of our ex-President and Patron Margaret Thatcher, and of course the Queen, I refer also to my Mum and late Granny”. Fantastic.

Explanations of the glass ceilings in our ivory towers are as diverse as they are speculative. Some suggest that women are alienated by the male nature of our politics; that hustings, port and policy and a lack of existing role models combine to deter applicants. As the university keenly points out, success rates between male and female applications for academic positions are virtually equal. Perhaps we are undergoing what might be labelled the Hilary Clinton effect: Having elected a black OUSU President, we’re in such a self congratulatory mood that we’re happy to ignore our ongoing lack of female leadership.

Regardless of the explanation, one can be fairly certain of the nature of the response: lackadaisical. In a University of decisive positions, our collective attitude towards gender can at best be described as vague. There is, of course, the obligatory egalitarian gloss over anything said directly about the issue – but in a practical context, there is little consensus as to what we are supposed to think or do. Virtually every other week, OUSU’s poor women’s officer has to drag herself out to be “shocked and appalled” by yet another KY-jellied-topless snake charmer or similar – usually met by a near universal shrug of shoulders.
The University’s attitude seems nearly as ill defined as our own. Regarding pornography, college IT departments are apparently relatively indifferent to our surfing habits. Cherwell doesn’t suggest that the University should engage in censorship: intrusions into what we are allowed to see, hear and read are dangerous and an insult to our autonomy as students. However it is arguable that the widespread vacuum of silence on gender issues is damaging. If we or the University are going to tolerate activities which must ultimately be recognised as demeaning to women on the grounds of free speech, it should be made clear that we have prioritised freedom of expression over a boundary of respectful conduct regarding women. As it is, prospective female leaders are confronted with a series of arguably sexist incidences that seem to discredit their gender in any serious context. These events persist on a sort of “who cares?” basis – there is no clear reason given as to why we tolerate them. At best, this indicates apathy to sexism; at worst, it seems like an endorsement. Certainly, in some quarters, it probably is.

Clearly, women are being objectified for an audience; an audience that is then arguably less likely to vote for them, and even if that is not the case, they are generally perceived as being less likely to. Cherwell would hope that this group doesn’t represent us as a student body – but it isn’t clear that this is the case, because as a student body we are overwhelmingly indifferent. Some students will go to a club to see topless dancers; some will go because they were going anyway. Both groups are at the club – it isn’t very easy to pick them apart. Until we clarify our standpoint, until we are more forthcoming with our views, female candidates for senior roles within our community will feel that they may not be taken seriously. This isn’t the only obstacle to equality at the top of the ladder – once a good female candidate comes along, we also have to vote for them. However, some clarity and honesty on the issue would be a good start.

Review: The Little Mermaid

The first thing I must say about Eva Tausig’s The Little Mermaid is that it owes much more to the Hans Christian Andersen fairytale than the sugar-coated Disney musical. This is an exploration of desire, temptation and jealousy. Our heroine doesn’t swan her way towards a classic happy ending, but hobbles painfully towards making the ultimate decision: her own death or the death of the one she loves.

The intimate Burton Taylor studio is divided into two, and the audience is directed to their seats (by which I mean less than comfortable upturned black buckets), the location of which is dependant on whether their ticket-stub shows a picture of a foot or of a fin. There are two worlds at work here, delineated by a giant net. It is used effectively as a barrier between the world of the prince and the world of the mermaid and her family, and is a constant visual reminder of the failure to connect and their impossible and unattainable love.

Flashing lights shoot through the darkness with variable effect. The Blue-Peter-esque tin foil moon which the male characters wave emphatically from time to time is unconvincing and a little tacky. However, the genuinely unnerving moments when our mermaid visits the sea-witch (played with delightful cruelty by Leo-Marcus Wan) are certainly aided by the eerie blue lights and the rippling shadows of waving material. The music – a collaboration of electronic sounds, classical snippets, folk song and, at one point, a live cello performance – is a tad intrusive at the beginning but improves as the play develops, often adding poignancy to scenes, especially those between the mermaid and the prince.

This play demands audience participation. From time to time unwitting observers are made to carry oars, wear sailors’ hats or stand up pretending to be statues. I did feel that this played no real role in the progress of the story, and for a play that otherwise took itself so seriously as to abolish any humour from the action and script, these absurd interjections didn’t quite fit.

Sometimes The Little Mermaid felt as if it were dragging on, which largely stems from a script which is gratuitous with description, repetitive, and filled with redundant ‘he said/she saids’. If you want a truly well-written piece of drama, this is not for you. However the physical movement and aesthetic gracefulness of the piece makes up for the weakness. Lottie Norris gives a superb performance as the mermaid, as she hypnotises with her twirling and pirouetting. She is as sombre and heart-wrenching in the scenes of sadness as she is tempestuous and desperate in those of drama. Though the play is far from perfect, The Little Mermaid is an engaging and moving piece of drama which left few dry eyes by the end of the show.

Three stars out of five