Wyclef Jean talks to WILLEM MARX about the music, the money and the messages behind his new album Wyclef was on stage, running through some tracks at an industry showcase for his new album, The Preacher’s Son. Mixing in some seamless free-styling in 6 different languages (including Japanese) and playing his guitar riffs with his teeth, as if kissing the strings, the idea of interviewing the man was slightly daunting. Despite his astounding virtuosity, he remains in many ways an enigma. Catching up with him after the show, it was difficult to reconcile the man sporting an enormous platinum and diamond dollar-sign chain round his neck and mobbed by an incessant stream of adoring female fans, with the god-fearing, family-loving son a Haitian preacher, who moved to Brooklyn’s projects before his son had reached his teens. The title of his new album is far from irrelevant; many of the songs carry a message. ‘Industry’ is about the violent perception of the hip-hop world; Wyclef hopes to change the “higher authority’s thinking” on the subject. ‘Next Generation’ contains a powerfully simple message in lyrics such as “We are the next generation, not afraid to die / All we fear is what’s waiting in the Afterlife / Coz I don’t know what is there on the other side.” Explaining the thinking behind the lines, Wyclef talks of trying to “document” a “generation who are merely a reflection of their own environment,” when I quiz him on the references to guns and crack throughout his songs. Another example of Wyclef’s “preaching” comes in a track entitled ‘Party to Damascus’, an awesome fusion of oriental melody and hip-hop rhythm. The song suggests that the best solution to the many current problems in the Middle East is, as Wyclef succinctly puts it, “rather than fighting they should be having one big party.” He “understands the streets” and believes that artists such as himself are “poets expressing what they are.” I ask about his incredibly diverse range of influences which spans Latin to gangsta rap as well as his collaborations with and sampling of stars from Pink Floyd and U2’s The Edge to Missy Elliot and Mick Jagger. His response is typically straightforward, “I’m just taking these sounds from all around the world and taking the music to another level – going back to the culture and the idea of song-writing.” His desire to return to basics, using the Compra rhythm of his birthplace Haiti as part of the hip-hop framework which he grew up alongside in New York has led, he claims, “to a greater focus on melody”. He no longer “just concentrates on the rhyming, but the music.” Wyclef is very proud of his roots, and believes that a tolerant attitude to diversity, a sense of multiculturalism, is typically dependent upon your own upbringing. “Coming from Brooklyn, everybody to me had to look like this certain group of people, but as I grew and learnt, I realised that wasn’t the case.” Looking relaxed in his baggy jeans and red sweatshirt, he advises that we all “learn to appreciate human beings, actually all types of people from around the world.” But it’s difficult to connect such statements with his current existence: the suite at the Metropolitan Hotel on Park Lane, the fancy cars (he claims he has “over 50 very fine motor vehicles”), and the constant references to vast sums of money which hint at a slightly less balanced perspective. Such observations, however, fade into insignificance when he performs. His presence is electric, and he obviously enjoys himself immensely when up on stage. Not rated as an MC in the same class as say, 50 Cent, whom he places in his top ten “most respected artists,” it is nevertheless mesmerising to see him crafting words out of nothing, improvising on a theme, indeed reacting to what is going on around him as he lyricises. Wyclef’s linguistic diversity is equally fascinating; he was brought up speaking Haitian creole, which despite persisting popular opinion, is not a form of pidgin English, but a totally separate language. Bearing this in mind when experiencing the fluency of his English rhyming, and also witnessing the ease with which he switches to Spanish, and the enjoyment he takes from changing again into French or German, while still keeping time, making sense, and fully rhyming, his “ear,” both musical and linguistic, is highly impressive. Santana also makes it into his top ten, in fact in the top spot, and ‘Clef’s skills on the guitar, while perhaps not quite good enough to rival his hero, (who he claims demonstrates that “if you stick to your own act, you are bound to break through”), are definitely a large part of his self-defined position as a “musician and now a song -writer”. As he states in an earlier album, Masqueradeˆ, protesting against critics who had claimed he had forgotten his hip-hop roots, his “mistress is a guitar, classical like Mozart”. One of the most significant aspects of this album is its producer, Clive Davis. After the move from Sony to BMG, he was a pillar of support following the death of Wyclef’s father two years ago, and a strong influence on the vocal aspect of his music. Davis says that the album is a “watershed.” To see such a fine artist, “raising his game” as Wyclef would have it, intending to improve the world’s lot, while considerably enriching himself in the process, should be applauded, even if the message is preached. Wyclef would like to extend his sincerest apologise to Oxford students for postponing his visit to the Oxford Union. However he will be addressing students in November. He will also be playing a live acoustic set, so keep an eye out for the event by checking the website (www.oxford-union.org).ARCHIVE: 1st Week MT2003 

Rowena Mason meets up with Clare Short before her Union address to discuss her views on Tony’s war
Clare Short has always been audaciously ambitious. Her main aim since resigning from the Cabinet over Blair’s stance on Iraq: only the total global eradication of abject poverty, which, she claims, is “completely feasible given today’s technological advances.” But Short’s overall message is a bleak one. She foresees “extremely troubling times for the post-Iraq War world ahead,” yet her commitment to challenging past mistakes and working towards their correction is indomitable.
This dark, untidy, earnest woman apologises several times for her despondent subject matter, but she is determined to convey to me her fears that a chaotic, disordered Iraq in a bitterly divided Middle East is not receiving the reconstructive help that it deserves. Short is adamant that not only was the West shockingly unprepared for the rebuilding of war-torn Iraq, but that its current state of disarray would have been avoidable if the UN had been permitted to play a greater role. “The tragedy is, for the Middle East, for all of us,” she adds personally, “that Tony Blair could have dealt with the war properly, through the right channels, and he chose not to.” Only with a UN resolution would Short have supported the war, and she maintains that an adequate argument for regime change would have convinced the Security Council of the need for removing Saddam and averted the current climate of international division.
Ms Short is clearly eager to rouse public opinion into condemnation of Blair’s persistent deceptions over Iraq with her intermittent calls for his resignation. However, she is nevertheless willing to excuse his “economies with accuracy” as naivety and misjudgement of his own persuasive powers. I press her on whether she thinks he can win the next election on the proviso that spin died with Alistair Campbell’s political career and she looks at me sceptically, as if I share her party leader’s spurious optimism. “Tony Blair has recalled Peter Mandelson, the inventor of spin, since Alistair left,” she says indicatively. “They’ve said it before and they’ll say it again, but to be honest, I’m not sure Tony Blair knows how to give up spin. He’s never been without it.” Short even damningly compares the manufactured, orchestrated performances of Conservative and Labour leaders at the party conferences in recent weeks, demonstrating that Blair need not worry about having to resurrect spin when it is so clearly alive and performing.
At her own admission, Clare Short never quite fitted into Blair’s cautious and restrained Cabinet. An anomalous fiery proponent of conviction politics in the self-disciplined camp of the New Labour Army, she has courted controversy at every turn, but won respect for her allegiance to ideology rather than electability. Repeatedly asked whether these principles were compromised by her decision to stay in government during a war she classified as illegal, Short’s answer is always the same: she remained in order to make as much difference as possible to the humanitarian reconstruction of the post-war country. Devoted to her old Labour values, she is sure to propagate those views at the expense of her party and its leader if necessary.
As Minister for International Development, Short made great headway in raising Blair’s awareness of the need for “stabilising and uniting the global economy;” it was her influence which led the Prime Minister to describe Africa as “a scar on the conscience of the world.” Settling world debt and eliminating poverty are undoubtedly elusive long-term pursuits, but Short deems that there is one political situation which must be resolved before other world tensions may be alleviated. She passionately believes that the “overwhelming, glaring” priority on the foreign front is the separation of Israel and Palestine into independent states. She dismisses arguments that the situation has reached impasse with emotive calls to “stop the young from turning their buddies into bombs.” I ask her how she would best assuage the anger of Moslems who believe that their faithis being victimised by the US She hesitates a moment before clarifying, “The question is not one of religion, but injustice. Islamic and Christian teachings alike oppose war. The way to appease such accusations is to settle the Israel-Palestine dispute.”
Such straightforward judgments come naturally to Clare Short, whose tendency to speak frankly has led to a history of resignations: in 1988, over the renewal of the Prevention of Terrorism Act and in 1991 over the first Gulf War. Now she is serious about Tony Blair taking her cue and bowing down with the same dignity that she managed to retain for herself. “Tony loves adulation,” she says, as at last a glimmer of wry humour crosses her face. “He will find scrutiny unpleasant and if he hangs on, he will face a cynical and unhappy election.” In fact, she tells me that “it is the only way for Labour to correct its errors,” a fundamentally necessary sacrifice for the good of the party. Short is convinced that the public climate is ripe for rebellion. “The people are disgruntled, it is a time of change,” she says hopefully. With the same motivating force she used to detail her grand visions for a fairer world, she reiterates that the collective power of the people is the best way in which to achieve such political movement. Clare wants public dissention to make Blair go gracefully, but although she is not a woman to be gainsaid, her aspirations may again prove too ambitious for the actuality.ARCHIVE: 1st Week MT2003 

KHURUM BUKHARI examines Oxford’s diasporas and questions of identity within the UniversityIn the 12th century, the Hebrew poet Yehuda Halevi wrote “While I in western lands do pine, My heart is in the East.” For the “diaspora”, the Jewish communities outside Palestine, those lines poignantly reflected the anxious yearning for one’s homeland and encompassed the difficulties of living in one culture while belonging to another. In an increasingly globalised world, where mass immigration and travel allow people of different cultures to settle in those of others, diasporas of diverse nationalities and ethnicities are created every single minute and accompanying them are those potential anxieties about the loss or subordination of native culture to the host. Often the central question to these communities and their offspring is that of identity. Britain has played host, and still does, to countless numbers of communities from across the globe. Bringing their own customs, lifestyles and beliefs intertwined within the social and economic fabric of their respective homelands, the notion of a cultural identity seems to be enduringly potent within such groups. But what of the children of immigrants born in the host country? As someone born and brought up in Britain, in a Pakistani Shia Muslim household, I was bound to be aware of my background. I had always felt a sense of “otherness”, something engendered mainly by the language of my household and the religious and cultural activities particular to my community. In addition, my exposure to other, different communities was severely lacking, only having had significant contact with members of my own. Coming to Oxford was a revelation; I was confronted not only by people of different class, ethnic and cultural backgrounds but also by a growing realisation and anxiety, that I belonged not only to one culture but to another, the “British”. It was “bi-cultural anxiety syndrome” such as that found in books such as Hanif Kureshi’s Buddha of Surburbia and Zadie Smith’s White Teeth. For those in a similar situation, Oxford’s many student societies offer direction. Societies from Turkish Soc to Majlis Asian Society, to Jewish Soc and the Islamic society aim primarily to promote and publicise their respective cultures, be they ethnic, national or religious. But they are also places for people of a certain background to mix with other members of their communities who experience the difficulties of trying to reconcile one culture with another. For Jewish Soc President, Roni Tabick, who has lived and was educated in predominantly Jewish areas, Oxford life proved to be somewhat unusual. “Fridays nights were difficult because of Sabbath” and everyday conversation became a humorous affair, “I was using Yiddish words with non-Jewish people.” The Jewish Soc provided him with a forum to meet other student members of the Jewish community who faced similar difficulties. But many question the “ghetto” effect that such societies have on what is intended to be a “multicultural“ environment. Members of a similar community often cluster together, their interaction indirectly exclusive to members of their own university community. A student at St Peters comments “it’s obvious when people of one community hang around together, especially if they are of a different colour. They are very cliquey – they seem to be segregating themselves and are ruining things”. Roni Tabick disagrees, “Of course when people of one particular community who do solely hang about together it’s a shame as it ruins their experience of the wider world”. But for many attached to their culture, the joy of mixing with members of their own community is both inevitable and a matter of pure circumstance rather than an active and discriminating effort to find people of similar backgrounds, ethnicity or religion. Cee at Worcester says, “I think people make a mountain out of a molehill. It’s a commonality thing, an interest matter, its not a racial, ethnic or political issue. Sure the society I’m part of is where I met most of my friends, though I’m not friends with all of its members am I? It’s purely coincidental that most of the people I know are from the same background. I have a mixture of friends, White, Black and Asian but my close friends happen to be of a similar culture. I’m learning more about my identity that way, so what?” So what indeed is the problem? The quest for an identity is an important search and one often overlooked. It is one that has long existed not only as a cultural dimension for ethnic, national and religious communities but for other groups too; feminists find their identity in their womanhood and the Welsh in their language. A multi-cultural society can only work if the search for an individual’s identity is respected despite it appearing to be discriminatory or exclusive. A heart can indeed be in the East, but over time it can be in the West too.ARCHIVE: 1st Week MT2003 

Europe Playhouse Tuesday 21 – Saturday 25 October Ilan Goodman’s production of David Greig’s Europe asks the question “What is politics?”. At the same time it posits a bicentric world-view in which we see traditional nation-politics offset by Thirlwellian bedroom power-play. The continent that this play deals with is not just the cosmopolitan world of Berlin, Athens, and Salzburg, but a war-ravaged, refugee-ridden place of treachery and insecurity. Set in a unspecified European village, two contrasting arrivals cause characters to reconsider the nature of their locality. Morocco, a well-travelled entrepreneur, pines for the comfort of home, while economic migrants Sava and Katia are forced to sleep on the train platform. Greig’s fans will tell you of his speciality in presenting subjects such as immigration, nationalism, patriotism and identity, through tight personal relationships. It is certainly an absolute triumph of Goodman’s direction that in such a large play – big themes, big stage, big set – Europe is sincere and personally involving. The interplay of the tired and pained Katia (Kate Fowler), looking after her doting father, Sava (Colin Burnie), is particularly affecting; the consequences of their flight grow in front of your eyes. Some of the most entertaining scenes are between three youths, Berlin (Gethin Anthony), Billy (Tai Shan Ling) and Horse (Andy King). They fizzle with a melancholic humour as the hopeless discuss their hopes. The scenes between the lovers Berlin and Adele (Polly Findlay) are also brilliantly staged and harrowing. This is also a play about escaping, about journeying, but for a journey to make sense it has to be going somewhere. Throughout, there is a feeling that ideas are floating about in the same way that the characters do. In order to flourish they need to be pinned down. Greig seems willing to raise the issues of media presentation, immigration, and the rise of the right-wing. He seems more evasive in answering them. There are moments when the play feels distinctly didactic, “remember that we are, in our own way, Europe” and yet when we look for the lesson there is nothing to be learnt. But hardly in a version as brilliantly staged and compelling as this can there be no point. We are reminded that humanity is to be found only in the relationships in our world.ARCHIVE: 1st Week MT2003 

Shakespeare’s Philoctetes Burton Taylor Tuesday 21 – Saturday 25 October The blending of plays from such opposing poles of theatre as Greek tragedy and Elizabethan comedy requires a good deal of confidence and this combination of The Tempest and Sophocles’ Philoctetes may well have found a company fit to do it justice. Elizabeth Belcher has cooked up a melange that brings out new flavours in both. Superficially, the play follows The Tempest’s plot-line and uses Philoctetes’ setting, but this isn’t just Shakespeare in Greek buskins. Caliban has become Philoban (the altered element being Greek for ”love”), and Prospero Titas (“avenger”): the character of Philoctetes has been split between them, so that they act as the two lobes of one brain. Philoban, maimed by a snake-bite and abandoned by his comrades, takes solace in the pity of Titas’ daughter Miranda. Meanwhile, Titas, who has been exiled by his usurping brother Ptolemo, plots revenge, controlling the play’s events with his magic bow. But the division of the Philoctetean psyche is not quite that simple; Titas learns mercy, while Philoban’s suffering is turned to darkness by Miranda’s love for another. By the end of the play, when he crawls onto the stage he is fully capable of inspiring the pity and fear that Aristotle thought the essence of tragedy. The acting is uniformly good, particularly the leads, Raj Gathani and Tom Richards. The production is characterised by attention to detail: the spectrum of lighting used as the scenes progress is a nice touch. If the whole is equal to the sum of its parts, this play deserves every success.ARCHIVE: 1st Week MT2003 

What are you up to at the moment? I’m currently being mobbed by fans in a shopping centre! But apart from that, I’m touring with Mystique and promoting my new album, which is out on Monday 6 October. What is it that gets you out of bed every morning? What, apart from the 7 am wake-up call? My job. That sounds really sad! But when you get letters from fans telling you what your music means to them, it makes you want to go to work every day. What is your idea of success? To be in a position to make a difference. It is fulfilling to know that my music can touch people’s lives. What are your three most listened to CDs? Mary J Blige – I listen to her albums all of the time. 50 Cent is a current favourite. And The Darkness. I am really into them at the moment. You took a break at a crucial time in your career in order to become a Mum – what are the best and worst things about looking after your daughter? I love having someone to constantly make me laugh. There’s no downside to being a Mum – only being away from my daughter, given the demands of my job. Having done so much by the age of 23, where do you see yourself in another 20 years time? I hope I’ll still be singing and also writing for other people as well as myself. Mostly, I just hope my daughter is happy. What would you be in another life, if you had not being doing what you do now? Definitely something with kids – a child psychologist. As the winner of a MOBO award (in 2000), do you think white artists should be eligible for black music awards? I think there’s space for everyone to make good ‘black’ music. White acts like Justin Timberlake and Christina Aguilera who make great songs deserve their awards. What is more important, I think, is recognition of British artists at the awards, and not just Americans. Which superstar would you most like to be stuck in a lift with, and why? I think it would have to be Lamaar – he’d make good conversation!ARCHIVE: 1st Week MT2003 

Last chance to see Heroic Nakedness featuring a selection of male nude studies from the permanent collection at Christ Church picture gallery. Could be your only chance to see truly fit Oxford specimens. On until 23 October only. Also worth checking out is Lhasa; Depictions of the Tibetan Capital 1935 – 1947 for a rare glimpse of photos and previously unseen paintings offering a British insight to pre-Cultural Revolution Tibet. At Pitt Rivers Museum. For those who fancy a healthy injection of classical Celtic culture the New Theatre (formerly Apollo) hosts the Welsh National Opera showcasing The Marriage of Figaro and Il Travatore on Wednesday 22 October and Thursday 23 October respectivelyARCHIVE: 1st Week MT2003 

KILL BILL VOLUME 1Odeon George StreetFriday 17 – Thursday 23 October Quentin Tarantino, the undisputed “daddy” of retro-cool, has made a blistering return to form after a lengthy absence. Kill Bill, his fourth outing as director, sees Uma Thurman play The Bride, an expert female assassin who, upon awaking from a four-year coma, sets out to avenge herself of the wedding-day massacre that she barely survived. To this effect, she resolves to cripple, maim, disfigure, brutalise and generally kill all five members of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad, (DIVAS, for short) at the head of which presides the eponymous Bill, played by David Carradine of Sixties Kung Fu fame. Similar to The Bride, Tarantino himself seems to have been in hibernation for a few years, dithering intermittently with second-world war epics and family comedies. So, now that he seems back on track, what can you expect from Mr T’s latest adrenaline-fuelled offering? Kill Bill is what I would term a “movie-movie” replete with references to films of the director’s youth, and too lavish in its cartoonish excesses to be taken seriously. The story is divided into five chapters, giving Tarantino free rein to indulge his penchant for achronological exposition. He effortlessly blends multiple genres, from Hong Kong action flicks to spaghetti westerns, via blaxploitation films of the Seventies, in a hip seamless style with a lethal injection of violence. Those familiar with Peter Jackson’s pre-Lord Of The Rings efforts, such as Braindead, will feel instantly at home with the over-the-top gore and splatter. For the more sensitive types, the majority of the climactic showdown (in which The Bride smoothly dispatches 88 yakuza henchmen) is shot in black-and-white, to lessen the shock. Undoubtedly a masterpiece, Kill Bill is not without flaws and some mild criticism is certainly in order. To begin with, the achingly hip and oft-quoted dialogue from Tarantino’s previous features is all but absent in Kill Bill. This vital missing ingredient leaves the characterisation grossly underdeveloped, and the plot, somewhat on the thin side. Furthermore, the martial arts scenes are not quite as spectacular as you might expect, presumably owing to the director’s inexperience in this field. The controversial decision to chop the film in two might also be seen as irksome and unnecessary, although the second volume (out in February) could potentially make up for aforementioned quibbles. And quibbles they are: as a film which, from the outset, devotes itself unashamedly to style over substance, it scores top marks. There is also a considerable dose of humour (albeit mostly jet black); a particular scene in a Japanese sushi bar had me in stitches. Mention must also go to Ms. Thurman, who performs the role of an browbeaten killer on a vengeful suicide mission with steely resolve. Ultimately, a movie with an entire sequence in Japanese anime, samurai swords and a soundtrack that is guaranteed to stay in your CD player longer even than that of Pulp Fiction, cannot fail to impress. Go tonight for a bloody, but brilliant kitsch thrill.ARCHIVE: 1st Week MT2003 

OdeonFriday 17 – Thursday 23 October In Eastwood’s latest directorial outing, a child playing with two friends is abducted but subsequently escapes. A few decades later the three are brought back together by the death of one of their daughters’ and a murder mystery cum suspense thriller ensues. The ensemble cast display some solid acting. Sean Penn is the characteristically troubled ringleader and produces a strong performance, but Kevin Bacon steals the limelight as a dysfunctional police detective. Tim Robbins also excells as the “basket case” object of suspicion. The outstanding ensemble is, however, let down by an overly-complex script. The film tries to deal with the relationship between victims and perpetrators, but tosses aside these themes without warning, leaving and a muddled viewer withtoo many unresolved loose ends. The intervening two hours flow like the Mystic River itself, with currents only occasionaly convening in their progression towards the conclusion.ARCHIVE: 1st Week MT2003