Oxford's oldest student newspaper

Independent since 1920

Blog Page 2142

Los Campesinos!- ‘We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed’

Why does anyone like Los Campesinos!? Goofy exclamation points aside, their sound is a mess, their singing is flat and the hit track on their debut album “Hold On Now, Youngster…” is entitled ‘You! Me! Dancing!’ A song title that makes one weary of yet another band adopting and beating to death the indie pop tropes of the past decade. Their lyrics are full of self-conscious angst and ironic self-mockery- just to tack on a few more indie-rock clichés. But it just so happens that there is something endearing about Los Campensinos!. Their chaotic sound is actually a product of flush arrangement and meticulous production. And their lyrics are thorough and honest. Despite their weaknesses, Los Campesinos! manage to win haters over with their hook-laden, inanely catchy pop songs.

On their second studio album “We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed”, the Cardiff-septet drops the saccharine romanticism of its predecessor to give way for fear, resentment, and jealousy. Lead singer Gareth Campesinos opens the album with the sentiment “Think it’s fair to say that I chose hopelessness”. Accompanied by buzzing synthesizer and blustering guitar, it’s fair to say this also sets the tone for the rest of the record. From beginning to end, we learn of hearts on fire, extorting money, puking chips, and things left unsaid. Campesinos’ diaristic style leaves everything on the table, including honestly.

The organized chaos of “We Are Beautiful” reminds one of a Broken Social Scene album, hence the lavish instrumentation and lush Spector-esque walls of sound. However, Los Campesinos do not settle simply for amplitude and boisterousness. In the beautiful refrain to “You’ll Need Those Fingers For Crossing” one can hear a triumphant melody that moves from distorted guitar to xylophone to violin and then to a reverberated fade out.

As a band, Los Campesinos! definitely have room for improvement. For now, however, “We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed” is certainly something that you (!) and I (!) can dance to.

 

Genre Confused; Anticon

In an age when hip-hop has become synonymous with bling and bravado, it has become easy for those experimenting at the margins to be utterly ignored by the mainstream. Yet since the emergence of pioneering rap groups like Company Flow in the late 90s, hip-hop has continued to spawn innumerable experimental poets, beat-makers and genre-crossers, whose diverse musical output is often collectively called ‘avant-garde hip-hop’.

One group who continues to defy easy classification and produce multi-faceted, experimental beats and rhymes is the Anticon collective. An independent record label formed in the San Francisco Bay Area by Sole and pedestrian in ’98, it has become the bedroom DJ’s benchmark for experimental hip-hop, containing a fluctuating stable of artists who are constantly playing with and challenging the genre’s traditional boundaries.

I first came across Anticon through the album ‘The No Music’ (2002), a collaborative effort by two of its members, doseone and Jel, working under the appellation ‘Themselves’. The frenetic, constantly shifting beatwork (played by Jel on an SP-1200) provides a strong backdrop for doseone’s convoluted, nasal, often breakneck speed poetics. The deeply personal, highly metaphorical character of his raps invites confusion and misapprehension, but also provokes moments of extraordinary clarity. This was not just bling.

Constant collaboration between their artists is a hallmark of the anticon enterprise, with rappers juggling solo careers and membership of several bands simultaneously. Witness the aforementioned doseone of Themselves, who in 2000 came together with fellow label-members Why? and Odd Nosdam to form a group called cLOUDDEAD, releasing their self-titled first album in 2001. The album is is a patchwork of shifting textures, mixing dirty beats with ambiguous, fuzzy soundscapes. The music is at once ethereal and gritty, as moments of soothing ambience change up into almost noise-music textures, and video games samples are cut up to form raw, bubbling beats.

Since the beginning Anticon have proved a focus of controversy amongst hip-hop heads. Caught up in a petty feud with el-p of Company Flow, they have been cut-off from the New York underground, and old school hip-hop fans have often denied them recognition, treating them as pretencious art-school dropouts lost in a mire of self-indulgent surrealism. This is unfair. Experimentation is essential to avoid atrophy, and if the quality of their output varies, well, that is the nature of experimenting. When they get it right however, their music is varied and subtle, their raps closer to avant-garde poetry, full of the fractured uncertainties of the post-modern ego. This is a hip-hop for our time.

 

Friday Night-Mare

Whether it be the adrenaline rush, the semi-erotic thrill from being scared or the macabre love of watching people die there really is a scary movie for everyone. Thus, as Halloween arrives, we are faced with the dilemma of selecting which horror movie we intend to scare ourselves with.

This somewhat odd impulse is by no means a new one as some two hundred years ago prim, Victorian women would gather together at book clubs and read pages from the latest Gothic novel, gasping and tittering at whatever scandals were to befall the innocent heroine. Then, in 1896, Georges Melies’ Le Manoir du diable was premiered, a silent film depicting supernatural events, arguably the first ever horror film. And so the blood soaked boulder has been rolling ever since and the genre refuses to be defined. Whether it is a suspenseful scene in which a dumb blonde investigates the ‘strange noise’ outside or lashings of blood as a horde of zombies devour an innocent bystander, providing the audience is never quite at ease then the scary movie is doing everything it says on the tin.

So this Halloween do you want to be scared witless, disgusted at graphic scenes of bloodshed or downright disturbed? Well, whatever your choice, below are five suggestions which will fulfil at least one of the above criteria:

Scream: a self conscious slasher movie in which a group of over developed teenagers are systematically killed off by a raging psychopath. Actually far funnier than it sounds as its blatant self awareness allows it to subvert and mock the genre. However, the scene in which a buxom blond is crushed in a garage door is somewhat extreme.

If you have ever wondered what you would do if zombies came knocking at your door then 28 Days Later is the film for you. It begins with a coma patient awaking to find London deserted. Things take a turn for the worse as he is attacked by hordes of virulent flesh-eaters and don’t really ever get better.

For those of you with slightly more discerning tastes there is El Espinazo del Diablo, a ghost story directed by Guillermo del Toro. Set in an orphanage in which a group of small boys try to discover the truth about the mysterious disappearance of their friend Santi. Meanwhile, the far worse horrors of the Spanish civil war break through the sanctity of the orphanage walls ensuring that the conclusion can only be tragic.

Horror also plays a large part in the world of sci-fi. So Spock and the Wookies can step aside as a small group of space travellers are stalked by a drooling, fanged extraterrestrial in Ridley Scott’s masterpiece, Alien.

 

Not just a pretty face…

I used to think being a muse was like being a high-class whore: both get paid and laid, and both practice an age-old, outdated profession which involves flattering men’s egos. Recently however, the role of muse is making a glamorous comeback: celebrities such as Uma Thurman and Penelope Cruz have become modern-day muses, and even Cherie Blair inspired artist Euan Uglow when she posed nude for him.

Traditionally it is the female muse who passively inspires male creators, not with brains but beauty. In this era of supposed sexual equality, can the modern muse survive – or is she on the brink of extinction?

The muse is certainly not a dying breed, and this is why: attractive women will always be welcome in contemporary culture. While the main movers and shakers in the cultural world are still men, their inspiration will remain women.

Beautiful women, at that: directors like Almodovar and Tarantino have adopted the gorgeous Cruz and Thurman as their inspiration, and fashion designers like Henry Holland rely on very striking models – in his case, flatmate Agyness Deyn – to inform their clothes ranges.

Artists have always found beautiful women to inspire them, and creators of modern art are no exception: Man Ray had Lee Miller, Andy Warhol had Edie Sedgwick. Even homosexual painter Lucien Freud had a female muse, the notorious Isabel Rawsthorne; he alleged that she was the only woman he had slept with.

The modern day muse can’t just rely on her breasts, however; she needs good business sense to get her places. Cruz and Thurman have been aided by their director-patrons; but they have not relied on them. What’s more, all are celebrities in their own right, not merely passive inspiration. In this Hollywood era, it is beauty not brains that sells films, and Amlodovar and Tarantino have depended on Cruz and Thurman’s looks to make their films commercially viable, as much as the actresses have depended on them.

The modern muse can be powerful and lead a life independent to the artist; this feminine insistence on power has balanced out the previously unequal relationships artists had with their muses. Modern-day muses are less likely to jump into bed with their patrons, for a start. In bygone centuries, the line between muse and lover was often crossed- Picasso painted lover Dora Maar, Rodin sculpted lover Camille Claudel – and let’s face it, posing nude for hours in a freezing cold room must be more palatable if sexual favours are on the cards.

Gone are the seedy days of models having sex with artists in Paris and Soho backrooms; the modern muse maintains a professional distance from her patron. Holland has a platonic relationship with Deyn, as does Almodovar with Penelope Cruz. When the boundary between bedroom and studio blurs, as it did with Edie Sedgwick and Andy Warhol, the creative relationship can turn sour: Sedgwick and Warhol fell out of love, and Sedgwick died early, at the age of 29, of an overdose.

Fertile as the artist-muse relationship can be, it still rings alarm bells. The male artist steals the spirit of the female muse; possesses her artistically as he has possessed her sexually; recreates her in his own image. Put this way, the concept of the muse is not one that inspires much confidence in this post-feminist era.

No longer paid and laid, the modern muse is still someone who exploits her ‘inspirational qualities’ – I’ll leave that phrase to your imagination – for financial gain and celebrity status. Now that we have a cultural climate which allows women to be creators and active thinkers, why are they still posing passive for male directors, artists, fashion designers? Why haven’t they climb out from under the wings of cultural giants, to make their own mark?

MODERN MUSES

Isabel Rawsthorne 1912-1992

This celebrated woman inspired Epstein, Picasso and Giacometti among others. She was strikingly good-looking and moved among Paris and Soho art scenes. Rawsthorne attended the Liverpool School of Art and the Royal Academy Schools and later worked as a painter and designer of ballets, but was better known as a subject than an artist. She lived with Giacometti as his lover for a time, fathered the child of sculptor Jacob Epstein and was beautiful enough to tempt even the homosexual painter Lucien Freud into bed – or so he claimed. She can be identified in Lucien Freud’s painting Isabel Rawsthorne Standing in a Street in Soho, in Epstein’s bust of her and influenced five of Picasso’s paintings.

Edie Sedgwick 1943-1971

Andy Warhol’s muse and lover for a time, she worked with him at his studio-party venue The Factory and starred in his film Poor Little Rich Girl. “I think Edie was something Andy would like to have been; he was transposing himself into her à la Pygmalion,” claimed Truman Capote. After becoming disillusioned with Warhol, as she saw he was more celebrated than her, Sedgwick fell in love with Bob Dylan and reportedly inspired his songs, Just like a woman and Leopard skin pill-box hat, but was devastated when she found out Dylan was married. Sedgwick died from a barbiturate overdose, but is still celebrated today as a creative spirit and It girl. Sienna Miller played Sedgwick in Factory Girl, a film about her involvement with Andy Warhol.

Penelope Cruz 1974- present

Cited as Spanish director Almodovar’s muse, actress Penelope Cruz starred in his films Volver, Live Flesh and All about my mother. In a joint interview with Almodovar at the National Film Theatre, Cruz said, “He’s my everything…I became an actor so that one day I might have the opportunity to work with him.” Almodovar claims that he wrote Volver ‘with her in mind’ and explains, ‘Usually I don’t write the characters with actors in mind. In this case, I wanted to work with Penélope and she was included in the project from the beginning.’

Uma Thurman 1970- present

Director Tarantino has called Uma Thurman his ‘muse’, to which she responded: “Sure, why not? I have been. What is a muse? It’s someone who helps you with your creativity. And I don’t think that’s unfair.” Thurman has starred in Tarantino’s films Pulp Fiction, Kill Bill 1 and 2, and the director seems besotted with her, telling Time magazine, “Uma Thurman is a different species. She’s up there with Garbo and Dietrich in goddess territory.” However, Thurman is also celebrated as an actress in her own right, starring in such successful films as Batman.

Agyness Deyn 1983- present

At 25 years old, Agyness Deyn is one of Britain’s hottest models and plays muse to her flatmate, fashion designer Henry Holland. Holland says of Deyn: “I call Agyness my muse because she is the inspiration for the collection and for the label itself. It’s her individuality, her sense of fun and the way she throws all her clothes together. She just looks so good in all my stuff.” Deyn has featured on the cover of Vogue in Britain, Italy and the USA and is very much fashion’s It girl at the moment.

Lee Miller 1907-1977

Lee Miller was a model, war correspondent, artist and photographer, and muse to Man Ray and the Surrealists in Paris. Man Ray was besotted with her, and together they developed the technique of solarisation, becoming jealous of her when she starred in Cocteau’s film ‘the Blood of a Poet’. More than merely a muse however, Miller’s photos are extraordinary in their own right, both for their skill and subject matter. Miller was one of the first people to visit Hitler’s secret apartments and photographed it extensively. “Naturally I took pictures,” she said in 1946, “What’s a girl supposed to do when a battle lands in her lap?”

 

 

 

3rd Week

I felt I wasn’t selling this blog well enough…anyway, it generally looks like I chose the wrong term for singles; the slavering polygamous beast that is the first half of this year snapped them all up.

Maybe I should diversify. Tell you actually useful things like how La Cucina on St Clement’s is the best overlooked restaurant in town. How neoplatonism and scholasticism were not mutually exclusive. How, over at Guardian Music, they’re giving away really good Goldfrapp tracks this week. Maybe I should just stick to slagging off successful musicians. Here goes.

Razorlight – Wire To Wire ***

See what I did – setting this up for another rant about Razorlight? Problem is, I’ve always sort of liked them in a guilty way, ever since I saw them supporting Suede back in ’03, before ever releasing a single. Anyway, remember that U2 thing I was going on about last week? This is another one. There are some silly bits – a particularly inappropriate falsetto moment should get the Borrell-bashers their kicks – but I’m actually impressed by how they keep the whole thing understated, the agonising bombast you expect never kicking in. Not a bad tune, in a gospel-lite kinda way. The video is truly absurd, mind.

Vampire Weekend – A Punk ****

You can see why they’re rereleasing this; a summer of touring and award nominations has boosted their profile considerably since it last came out. Not much to say though; it’s about the sixth best song on an amazing album, and the most conventionally indie. More importantly, there’s a new track, Ottoman, on the ‘Nick & Norah’s Infinite Soundtrack’ OST. Get that instead.

Adele – Make You Feel My Love **

The reason indie types laid off criticising Adele was that she wrote her own songs, and some were pretty damn slick. This Dylan cover, then, a predictable and well-worn choice, should open the floodgates. Annoyingly, though its bar-room piano twinkles and subtle strings are schmaltzy as can be, she actually seems to care about what she’s singing. A good song, well sung, but still, you’d never buy it…

Katie Melua – Two Bare Feet *

At last, something to savage! Promoting a Best Of collection? With a song that’s a kitsch karaoke version of KT Tunstall’s ‘Black Horse and the Cherry Tree’ with all the bluesy edge removed? What sounds like Rolf Harris playing wobbleboard in the background? A ‘jazz’ piano solo that sounds like those default tracks on school keyboards? No discernible tune? God, I love how bad this song is…

Anastacia – I Can Feel You *

She’s back like it’s the ’90s again, and she’s a walking, squawking caricature of herself! The tune is an identikit copy of previous singles ad infinitum; her voice has with time become self-parody; the lyrics are frankly embarrassing but thankfully upstaged by the sub-Stevie Wonder tack of the backing ‘groove’.

Top of the Ox: Local Band Of The Week

The Mules, equine relatives of Foals and once members of the same band, have been passed over in the quest for glory. Their more traditional indie blend of folk, pop, and polite ska – they call it ‘pubstep’ – underpinned by Duncan Brown’s rich vocal tones, has failed to set the industry alight. But at their best, as on the glorious This Is Your Life, they combine intelligence, funk, and a heroic chorus. There’s a baffling remix on their myspace if you’re interested.

Next week? Dido, Christina Aguilera, Leona Lewis, Scouting For Girls – it’s probably best to get out of town…until then, ciao.

Keane – Perfect Symmetry

It’s not easy, being Keane. Taking the brunt of NME’s Bland Bashing, it seems even drug addiction can’t legitimise this band’s professionally yet ineptly cultivated image of edginess.

Press reaction to their latest offering, Perfect Symmetry, has been perfectly predictable – the middle aged Katie Melua Disciples feel smugly in touch listening to its eighties inspired electronic basslines, the slightly more self conscious Guardian reader tentatively acknowledges the trio’s ear for a well crafted tune, while NME unleashes a tirade that borders on the frenzied against former addict Tim Chaplin ‘or whatever the fuck he’s called’.

Keane seem to be a yardstick of coolness – the only way you can get away with listening to them is by donning some thickly black rimmed glasses, a vintage Mickey Mouse T-shirt, and adopting a lazily ironic expression. Perfect Symmetry is not going to earn any ‘parental guidance’ stickers, it’s true, and the French voice-over on Black Burning Heart is cringing, to say the least.

However, there is no lack of well crafted and catchy pop tunes on this album, Spiralling is a (hopefully consciously) cheesy nod to the decidedly non-ironic artists of the eighties, and Perfect Symmetry is as infectious as the tunes that keep NME employees up at night, gnawing on the bedpost with frustration.

So enjoy it as you would any other eighties-inspired guilty pleasure, along with The Breakfast Club, shoulder pads, and body glitter. Or if you’re too ashamed, crack out those glasses.

2 stars out of five.

 

The Perlys – Yet Death will seize …

A quick trip to The Peryls’ myspace will inform you that this band ‘trade in a brand of creaky, sinister pop…dark, lyrical and enchanting’. Rather an accurate definition, even if they do say so themselves. On this EP of only four songs, there is much to like, but it may be something on an acquired taste for those who don’t like kooky quacked-up left-of-the-beat jiggy-pop.

The music achieves the band’s aim, being very simple, relaxing and unexciting – not necessarily a criticism. However, that does mean there is not much to listen to. The off-beat accordion-style rhythm of ‘Bad Medicine’ props up the song well, with well balanced percussive nuances and the odd swell of a cello line, but the whole thing washes over the listener, without leaving a mark. The monologue style of the lyrics do much the same.

They apply their sparse style best to the last song: ‘Iron Man’. This stands out as a well poised serenade to solitude. All the instruments blend together well, supporting the vocal melody and playing off against it to create a more complex piece, creating a more powerful sentiment with a concise accusation at the effects of loneliness.

All in all, this is a perfectly average record. It doesn’t really do anything for or to you. Good pop should attract your attention, which this does not. They are far off from writing good pop if they concentrate on the texture of the songs and not the whimsical bent in their lyrics. Best listened to in a waistcoat.

3 stars out of five

 

Finance careers fair

Oxford university held its annual finance and actuarial careers fair as Britain faces recession.

Get into… politics

For a fresher interested in getting ahead in the political world, Oxford University is the place to start.. But what groups are out there, and how can you decide what’s for you?

OU Conservative Association
Port and Policy, Sunday 8pm, The Union 

Accessibility: 3
Ear of the powerful? 7
Making a difference? 1

More of a gathering for the elite of Oxford than an actual political association, OUCA seem to delight in their irreverence. Their Sunday meetings are populated by permanent adolescents who revel in the ridiculous amounts of free alcohol available. A good place to find a rich husband, not so good if you’re actually serious about politics. But with the amount of free-flowing port and champagne, why not give it a go? You have nothing to lose but your dignity…

OU Labour Club
Meet Emily Thornberry, 8pm, Balliol

Accessibility: 7
Ear of the powerful? 5
Making a difference? 6

‘Forward to Socialism!’ Or so their slogan claims… Whilst OULC are hardly the radical socialists they might claim to be, they are an active political party as opposed to a social gathering. Their meetings are informal, and last year they were visited by a number of prominent left wing politicians. With Brown on the rocks, maybe OULC can provide a successor…

JCR
Meetings on Sundays, run for first year rep

Accessibility: 9
Ear of the powerful? 2
Making a difference? 5

The JCR might get you involved in college politics, but above that, its influence is relatively limited – unless you’re interested in OUSU (see below). JCR presidents are generally identifiable by their sense of self importance and lack of a sense of humour. It’s a good way to get yourself known about college, but other than that, you’ll spend more time appeasing college bursars and sending desperate emails plugging bops than actually doing anything useful.

Oxford University Student Union
Launch of Gender Equality Week, 8pm, Corpus Christi

Accessibility: 7
Ear of the powerful? 4
Making a difference? 7

The OUSU offices are full of students desperately trying to earn CV points and prolong the eventuality of ever getting a job. Apart from supplying condoms, not many people are all too sure exactly what OUSU do. Welfare is, however, their main concern, and for students keen to involve themselves in wider university life, this is the way to do it. Worthy? Yes. Necessary? Yes. But rather dull all the same.

Oxford Green Party Students
National young greens convention, Saturday 25th October

Accessibility: 6
Ear of the powerful? 3
Making a difference? 7

One of a number of green parties in the university, but one of the most active. It is not exclusively for Oxford University students, which means an expanded range of activities to involve itself in. If you’re interested in green politics, Oxford is one of the best places to get involved as it has a successful local party and the party manages to balance social events with the more serious ones as well.

OU Lib Dems
Baroness Ros Scott, 27th October

Accessibility: 7
Ear of the powerful? 4
Making a difference? 6

One of the lesser known clubs in the university but apparently serious enough about their politics to put in actual work. Whilst their claim to ‘preserve and extend the essential freedoms of the British people’ is perhaps a little overreaching, OULD do at least try. Their meetings are open to all and new faces are always welcome.

Oxford Socialist Students
Monday 7.30pm, Old Bookbinders pub

Accessibility: 2
Ear of the powerful? 1
Making a difference? 7

Their newspaper might celebrate the fact that capitalism has fallen, but many students queuing up for corporate jobs would beg to differ. The socialists take themselves incredibly seriously, and many find them intimidating as a result. However, if you are genuinely concerned to get involved with left wing politics, this may be the right party for you. But their creed is not for the faint hearted…

The Oxford Union Society
Debating workshop, Monday 26th, 6.30pm

Accessibility: 5
Ear of the powerful? 8
Making a difference? 4

Famously dubbed the ‘last bastion of free speech’, its impressive reputation as the finest debating chamber in the world has ensured that many see it as the best way to kick-start their political career. To the uninitiated the Union can seem intimidating, but the current President has promised change and a more open society this term. We are all waiting on tenterhooks.

 

Restaurant Review: Gee’s

If Oxford were caught in the throes of some kind of apocalyptic disaster, with people drugged up on hysteria wandering the streets in the faux security of large groups, then I would head to Gee’s for my final meal.

As it was, last week resembled this chaotic, dystopian vision, as unknowing first years tried desperately to cling on to the image of Oxford they gained in Freshers’ Week. So in a desperate attempt to cleanse the taste of sour alcohol from my mouth, I trekked down Banbury Road with a fellow foodie to see what alternative communes of hedonism there were beyond the city centre.

The glass structure of Gee’s restaurant, although quite clearly a converted greenhouse, appeared an almost Orwellian edifice after my experiences on the streets of Oxford the night before. Seeing my hung-over face reflected in the glass, a translucent spectre of student life overlaying the distinctly well-to-do clientele inside, I almost turned around to head back to the safe fold of the University, but the lure of good food was too great.

Now I’m sure that there is many a cynic reading this and crying out in indignation – not because of my ridiculously fatalistic and hyperbolised extended metaphor, but because Gee’s is ‘expensive,’ or more precisely, too expensive for your average indebted grant-begging student.

I learnt long ago that preconception is scarcely any different to misconception the majority of the time: the set lunch at Gee’s costs about the same as a bottle of Sainsbury’s economy vodka – it’s up to you which you spend your money on.

The light is cool and cleansing inside Gee’s; it penetrates the glass and bounces back around the room, which is filled with white tablecloths that act as a simple canvas for the food. The set menu changes weekly, and is basically a chance for the head chef to flex his creative muscles. it contrasts sharply with the more conservative a la carte options, and for me at least it was far more appealing.

I started with the tian of smoked salmon with lobster oil, and briefly dreaded that the moulded monstrosity of a badly made tian would reward my optimism. However, when it arrived with tactile slabs of fresh crusty bread and dusted with micro-herbs all my fears vanished into the celestial air. It was succulent and flaked gracefully onto my fork; the salmon was well balanced with the intense notes of the lobster oil. Quite simply, it was an elegant dish.

Feeling the need to fully replenish my omega three fatty acids, I had the mackerel ballotine with lentils and aubergine to follow. Every element of this dish is hard to prepare and takes a certain amount of technical skill and flair to execute well, so again my expectations were erring on the cautious side, and again my doubts were groundless.

The ballotine was a perfect cylinder of rich moist fish and the lentils were cooked perfectly. The aubergine puree that came with it was a real surprise; the chef had managed to sidestep sliminess whilst managing to maintain the earthy flavour, with just the right amount of piquancy to contrast with the other elements of the dish.

Desserts didn’t quite manage to live up to the savoury dishes or even to their descriptions of plum crème brulee with Granny Smith sorbet, and parsnip tart tatin with caramel ice cream, but despite this I’ve got to respect a chef for trying to push the boundaries of the rather conservative culinary palate in Oxford.

I will be returning the next time I need to treat the self-destruction of student life with a good dose of refined, aesthetic pleasure.

Price: Set lunch for £12.75; dinner for more
In a word: Elegant