Saturday, May 3, 2025
Blog Page 278

In-person finals: Ready or not, here they come

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Another year, another cohort of finalists. And the third year that has been affected by the pandemic. University life feels like we might be resuming some sense of normality, with in-person lectures, classes and tutorials and the long-awaited return to the clubs. But despite this, current finalists have still had two years of disrupted learning.

This is why I panicked when the History Faculty announced that our finals would be in-person and closed book at the end of this year.

History announced this a week before term began, unlike the English and Law faculties who informed their students that exams would be online and open book. The independence of the Oxford faculties leads to the potential for these kinds of discrepancies. Modern languages have announced that their literature exams will be online and language exams in-person.

English is to have online exams for all but one of their papers, stating that “a fair mode of assessment needs to be in tune with the educational experience that you have had, including the opportunities that you have had to practice being assessed”. Having Prelims cancelled and online collections throughout the degree were the main drivers behind this decision. Is this not exactly the same situation for History students as well?

I last took an in-person exam at the start of Hilary in my first year, back in January 2020. Since then, my Prelims were cancelled and every other collection I have taken has been online, as well as having restricted library access throughout two terms spent working online at home. The lack of preparation that we are going to have had for in-person finals is a scary prospect. Normally we would have three years to hone the skills required for our finals, and now we are expected to acquire these techniques in only one year.

In their email announcement to the History finalists, the faculty stated that “We have taken into account the exceptional circumstances created by the pandemic up to now and will continue to do so as the situation evolves” and acknowledged all the problems we have faced over the last two years- and yet have made no allowances for these “exceptional circumstances”.

Over the last week or so I have been coming round to the idea of in-person exams. Remembering the stress of thinking I had submitted my coursework exam at the end of Trinity term last year, only to find out that Inspera had not worked properly, is one of the reasons. In-person exams will of course mitigate any of these potential technical problems. And sitting an exam in your room clearly does not have the same adrenaline effect as the real deal in Exam Schools. Sat in my room the other day writing my online collection, it was much harder to focus.

My main concern now is, if exams are going to be in-person, how are they going to support us? The faculty has promised that we will have adequate time and means of preparing for our finals that are now in a different format to the one we have prepared for entire two years we have spent at Oxford. Is this task going to fall on individual tutors at each college? If so, not only is this extra work for them, but students may receive different levels of support and exam practice depending on their college. 

In the faculty’s initial announcement email, they advised that “college organised collections will be a very useful resource for practising in-person examinations and Exams Schools always run valuable practice sessions in Trinity Term.” If this is the extent of the support they will be offering, it is not enough. Even my collection at the start of this term was still online, and from now I will only have the chance to do one more in-person collection in one paper. Will I ever get the chance to practise my other papers in-person or will the first time be in finals? Practice sessions in Trinity are of course welcome, but we will need preparation before this point. Otherwise we are going into finals without any experience beforehand. If they are going to be able to justify having in-person exams, they need to ensure they follow this up with sufficient help to prepare students.

The only reassurance that the History faculty are currently offering is the option of applying for ‘mitigating circumstances’, if you “feel that the pandemic conditions will have an effect on your examination performance”. This is a hollow consolation. As a Cherwell investigation discovered, the University received 3,675 mitigating circumstances applications for the 2020/2021 academic year. Many applicants were left disappointed at their application rejection, including a finalist involved in a traffic accident. This gives me and many others little hope. We have all been affected by the pandemic, and therefore this needs to be taken into account more than merely presenting us with the option to apply for ‘mitigating circumstances’.

Faculties who have still not informed students about the format of their finals should do so to allow maximum preparation time for students. And those who have already chosen to hold their exams in-person, such as History, need to let students know of a comprehensive plan of action in supporting them through their final year.

Image Credit : Maxime Gtn / CC BY-SA 4.0

Willie J Healey: ‘I unashamedly want to take the world over’

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Throughout its long and storied history, the pages of Cherwell have been graced by every Oxford institution under the sun. Far too often have our headlines been grabbed by ‘Bodleian this’ or ‘Christ Church that’ etc, etc. Yet, until now, we hadn’t heard from Oxford’s greatest institution: Willie J Healey.

And, with three (yes, three) sold out shows at the Jericho ahead of him and a cult (yes, an actual cult) of fans behind him, the buzz-garnering singer-songwriter is a veritable Oxford institution. Ahead of the third of those shows, we spoke about navigating an album cycle amid a pandemic, his bromance with Joe Talbot of IDLES, and what we can expect next from Carterton’s musical phenom.

We met upstairs at the Jericho Tavern, Willie having taken some time out from watching the football at a pub down the road. Donning a tiny beanie, a different colour of which he’s worn at each tour date so far, and with a feather earring dangling from his left ear, he bears all the hallmarks of an indie songsmith – albeit, one who doesn’t take themselves too painfully seriously. We sat in a venue which has featured along the upward trajectories of many Oxford musical greats, with stories of Radiohead and Supergrass having been mythologised to no end. However, when asked about his favourite memories of the place, Willie’s response is characterised by a certain irreverence.

“You know what, I don’t really have that many. I haven’t seen that many bands here, I haven’t played here that much. And It’s got a tiny green room, the smallest I’ve ever seen.” Despite his green room grievances, he’s quick to recognise the special place it holds in the scene’s collective consciousness. “It’s one of those places that’s obviously legendary due to the acts that it’s had here, but that was a bit before my time.”

Willie spent much of his time coming up in Oxford playing at other local venues, such as The Port Mahon or The Cellar (sadly now defunct). However, the ravenous reception of the two Jericho crowds he’s played to in the last twenty-four hours are sure to stick in his mind: “I think, actually, this will be my memory of The Jericho”.

That ravenous reception has come as somewhat of a surprise. Willie’s latest album, the masterful Twin Heavy, was released in August of last year – a time when the idea of live music seemed to have entered the twilight zone. Putting out such a summery, lushly arranged body of work during the great lost summer of 2020 would surely have been viewed as a tragedy by many artists. Yet, Willie has no regrets.

“I think there seems to be a lot of music that’s kind of been lost from that period, but I feel like, for whatever reason, that album has fought its way through. And, on a personal level, we couldn’t play – nobody could, obviously – so the thought of putting some music out was really exciting and the thought of sitting on it for another year was really not exciting.”

With sold-out rooms across the country now screaming Willie’s lyrics “more than ever”, it seems that Twin Heavy’s unorthodox release may have been to its benefit. “Having played these shows and the songs having the reception they’ve had, it feels like people have had a chance to live with them. And, I can only speak for myself, but if someone was putting something out, I was listening to it because I didn’t have anything else to do. So, it could have been a blessing in a way – that we put it out in this window of time where everything had kind of stopped.”

Pandemics aside, Twin Heavy sounds like an album that would have found an audience in any era. With Beatlesque harmony and maximalist production, it possesses the best kind of universal appeal. This marks a striking departure from the oft-angular nature of Healey’s past work. A departure, he says, which came about organically in the studio. “I hadn’t thought about production really when I was writing the songs, it just worked out that way.”

Having been dropped by industry goliath Columbia Records in the wake of 2017’s fantastically eclectic People and Their Dogs, Willie became involved with the independent Yala! Records. Through this, he was introduced to producer Loren Humphreys and his penchant for rich, velvety sonics.

“I hadn’t really worked that much with producers before. I’d always ended up doing things myself or with my band, self produced.” In fact, Willie and his band had already tracked Twin Heavy in a local studio called Shonk, which is just off of Iffley Road. However, over the course of 9 days in the studio with Loren, the record became a different beast. “I’ve learnt from previous experiences that you never know what’s gonna happen with the next album. Are you gonna have a budget or not? So, I thought ‘I wanna do it all’ – in terms of production and it being a lot slicker, having 13 guitars playing at once, doing all of that stuff. It definitely felt like a full send.”

Having ‘sent it’ in the studio, the next thing for Willie to tackle was his live set – which, unfortunately, could not feature 13 guitar players. “It was quite daunting in a way”, he says. “A lot of the songs we hadn’t played since recording, and we recorded the album 2 years ago.” Recreating an album of such joyful excess with a four-man band, taking into account the shoddy sound of Britain’s back-alley venues, is an unenviable task.

Fashun for example, there’s piano on that recording, there’s acoustic guitar, there’s like three electric guitars and backing singers – all this stuff.” However, it came naturally in the end. “What we’ve tried to do is to be a caricature of those recordings. You know, you get an energy from it when you listen to it so, we just match that.”

Whatever they’re doing, it seems to be working. Willie’s intoxicating live presence has earned him not only an ever-growing fan base, but an almost terrifyingly committed one. Calling themselves the ‘Cult of Willie’, their online presence is awe-inspiring. However, Willie’s demeanour changes when questioned on his part-time calling as a cult leader.

“Well, I can’t tell you too much because I don’t know if you’re in the cult”, he says gravely, while gesturing nervously at my tape recorder. “But what I will say is: there is a cult. They keep me grounded.” He then shifts out of his, admittedly convincing, menacing drawl. “But on a serious level, the cult are amazing. The amount of love that’s in that group, of not just me and my music, but general musical love, really kind of moves me.”

As wholesome as this sounds, when asked if the responsibilities of cult-leadership ever feel overwhelming, his voice once again fills with concern – this time of a less affected nature. “I actually feel like I don’t have that much control over them, and maybe one day they’ll be the death of me. But, that’s fine. That’s what a cult is. We’re here to tear shit up.”

With Willie’s core fanbase going strong, he also seems to be gaining another high-profile supporter with every month that passes. Most recently, since his relocation to Bristol a year and a half ago, he’s formed a rapport with Joe Talbot – frontman of the incendiary post-punk group Idles. “We’re just musicians sitting around. If someone wants to go for a bike ride at half eleven in the morning there usually aren’t that many people who aren’t at work, so me and Joe have bonded massively. Sometimes in life you meet people and you think, ‘I think I needed to meet you!’. I feel like that about all of the IDLES guys.”

When asked if he can see that relationship developing into a creative one, Willie seems genuinely hopeful. “I’d love to do some music with them. If they ever get off tour! We’ve been laughing because I’ve been on this tour and Joe’s out in America – IDLES are smashing it out there – and we were on Facetime the other day like ‘aw, I don’t see you anymore’. But yeah, we’ll have to get back on our bike rides and write some tunes.”

Willie spoke of his respect for the work ethic and prolific output of IDLES, being one of Britain’s most rapidly rising acts. In this respect, the Oxford musician should take all the pointers he can get. Having played a run of sold out shows across the country, it seems a certainty that he’ll be going on to bigger and better things. And, with the artistic shift presented by Twin Heavy, it’s clear he possesses the tools for mainstream success. So, musically, what’s next?

“My approach usually is to go with what feels natural. I wouldn’t wanna bank on anything. I wouldn’t wanna write based on an idea of grandeur. But, I have a new bunch of songs and they sound a certain way and I’m hoping to work with Loren again. I wanna smash it! I unashamedly wanna take the world over. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I feel really confident. And, I feel like the music and the recordings have grown. They’ve moved on. They’re quite funky, even, in a way. I think I’ve been writing better than ever before – which is not me being arrogant, because I don’t know if people will like them – but I feel very proud and I’m excited at the prospect of putting out music based on what I’ve got.”

Based on Willie’s performance at Saturday night’s Jericho show, we should all feel very excited too. Despite the four-man band, his songs were far from caricatures of the recordings. With the sort of interplay you’d expect to hear in jazz and a devilishly funky sense of groove, Twin Heavy’s best tracks took on a new life. There was a sense that not only had the crowd had a chance to live with the album, but so had the songwriter.

Crooning its title track, backed by immaculately balanced keys and soaring slide guitar, was an artist fully in control of his powers.

Tracks from People and Their Dogs brought a visceral edge to the proceedings. Love Her was a highlight, unleashing a sonic battering that the Jericho Tavern could hardly contain. Imbued with a swagger that could only have come from wearing a silly hat and pulling it off, Willie led the crowd through cathartic cries of ‘I did my best but it’s not enough.’

Although he and his band would certainly have been better suited to a bigger stage, the set did not suffer as a result. However, utilising the small venue to its apex does beg the question: what heights will he be able to reach in larger ones? Many, I’m sure. And I’m in no doubt – we’ll soon be living in a world where ‘Willie’ is the word on everyone’s lips.

Image credit: H Fernando

What’s all the sub-fusc about?

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‘Sub-fusc’ is one of the topics which blows up freshers’ group chats every year. What is sub-fusc- the gown or the clothes underneath? Can I wear dark blue? What shoes am I allowed to wear? These are just some of the questions we all have when we start at Oxford. 

It’s definitely something that is unique to Oxford and a word that very likely means nothing to most people outside of the university’s bubble. But after a year and a half of online matriculation, exams and teaching, is it really still necessary and do we even still want to wear it? 

In order to unpick this question, perhaps we should understand when and why we wear this academic dress. 

‘Sub fuscus’ comes from Latin, and it means ‘dark brown’. The wearing of formal dress and gowns can be traced back to medieval monks in the early stages of the university. So it’s clear that, as with many traditions at Oxford, sub fusc has been around for a long, long time. Generations of students have paraded around the city in their black and white clothes and a lot more have also probably fallen into the river in said dress in a prosecco related punting accident. 

Some may say that the past year is proof that we don’t really need sub fusc. The large majority of students sat their exams in their rooms in college without putting on their gowns and formal dress. We could say that avoiding the hassle of having to get into a stuffy ‘uniform’ every morning during exam season was a relief. This year we were able to do our exams in clothes that we felt comfortable in and maybe this is what the focus should be on as exam season at Oxford is a period which is stressful enough as it is. 

Aside from its redundancy which has risen due to the pandemic, there are other issues which surround the idea of sub-fusc. In terms of accessibility to the university and breaking stereotypes it probably isn’t doing the best job at projecting a welcoming image of Oxford. Even though once we arrive here as freshers we find out that a lot of the stereotypes aren’t true, to prospective applicants the idea of everyone parading around in suits and gowns might be off-putting and project an image which not everyone would associate with an environment that is open to people of all backgrounds. 

Another issue relating to accessibility is the cost associated with sub fusc. Although £25 is not too hefty of a price to pay when you first arrive in freshers’ week, you also need to buy formal clothes like a suit and smart shoes to go with it. Not to mention, that when the inevitable trashing happens at the end of the year, most of these clothes will be ruined and unable to be worn again so another set has to be purchased. Perhaps this is something the university should think about when enforcing a certain clothing on all students. 

Despite these issues, sub fusc is one of those things, which despite being odd, is what makes Oxford what it is. Even though first years did prelims in our rooms this year, a large majority of us changed into our sub-fusc after our last exam and took part in trashing. This is clear proof that sub-fusc is part of a tradition that as students we love and look forward to. As long as it is done responsibly and considerately to the environment and local residents, getting trashed in your sub-fusc is a much-needed release and celebration with friends at the end of exams. For many people, it is the highlight of the Trinity term. This celebration just wouldn’t be the same without if we weren’t trashing the famous black and white outfits which in normal years we would have worn for all formal and academic occasions. Exam season this year goes to show that no matter the circumstances, sub-fusc is an important part of our academic years in Oxford. We start and finish the year wearing the same outfit and maybe this is why we should continue to wear it. It is something that shows how hard everyone has worked academically and also on themselves throughout a high-pressure and stressful academic year. 

So, although sub-fusc has been something that has been less present in the lives of Oxford students this past year, there is no doubt that it is still a cherished part of life here. There is something about seeing all your friends in their gowns at matriculation or a formal that is indescribable. Sub-fusc brings everyone together and unites us as students here. Oxford just wouldn’t be the same without it.

Photo Credit: Mike Knell / CC BY-SA 2.0

Pens, Paper, and Panic: On OCD and perfectionism at University

CW: anxiety, obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD)

Living with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, perfectionism has become a centre point in my life. Everything I have ever done has had to be to the absolute highest standard it can be, or it isn’t good enough. To an extent, this has been a good thing. I attribute a lot of my high achievement to the immensely high standards I set for myself. However, there comes a point at which it becomes counterproductive. Instead of these high standards motivating me to work harder, I get into a loop of worrying immensely about what happens if I don’t do well enough. 

This self-sabotage is something that’s really intensified, along with a lot of my other OCD symptoms, since coming to university. I could stare for hours at a blank screen out of pure worry that what I’m writing wouldn’t be a masterpiece. This is the point at which the compulsions kick in – tapping on my head five times for good luck is my most common one. Any mix-up in how I do it and I’ve got bad luck for the rest of the day.

Having to tackle such obsessions and compulsions, largely on my own, has certainly made for a difficult first few weeks at university. The anxiety I develop around submitting essays, especially if I’m not completely happy with the outcome, can at times become deeply troubling for me. I’ve never been satisfied with work that’s anything less than the absolute best and, having succumbed to the dreaded freshers flu, I’ve had to really work to create a balance between my perfectionism and not overworking myself, as I’ve been prone to in the past. In an environment that is incredibly difficult to control like university, OCD can spiral and worsen because there isn’t that anchor. 

A lot of people I know, with and without OCD, have spoken about their perfectionism and the stress they’re under. Compulsions, in a rather irrational way, can be comforting in dealing with these and, in relation to that aforementioned desire for control that is intrinsic, at least for me, to my condition. I will think to myself that, if I do not carry out this compulsion, something dreadful will happen. A recent development in this is that, as I mentioned my good luck compulsion, I have to do it before starting an essay or else it’ll be a bad one. 

Contamination OCD, linked to germophobia and manifesting as increased hand washing and other rituals, is something I have particularly struggled with since arriving at university. My previous obsessive cleaning has shown itself again, both related to the pandemic and the general change I’ve experienced in moving to a city. Staying conscious of the changes I have experienced in compulsions related to this, especially increased hand washing, has helped me overall in recognising when I may need help and therefore in helping to control these compulsions.

Without a doubt, the first few weeks of university have significantly impacted my OCD and how I cope with it, and I’ve seen many of my peers struggle with the stress of the situation. Such a vast change in my life has put me in unfamiliar situations and with unfamiliar people, intensifying my condition significantly. But, thankfully, being around excellent people and reaching out for help when I’ve needed it has made it much easier to understand my condition and to cope with it. Life at university with OCD, as I have found, is a constant work in progress, but one that is certainly improving.

Brain Freeze: Reflections on the Girl I see in the mirror

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I look at the girl in the mirror and I wonder if she is me. It is hard to connect with my body now. I wonder if I see it differently now that they had a good fumble inside my brain.

Why is my hair so frizzy? Do my hips really dip like that? Was I always this short? Maybe they cut some connection in there that distorts how I view myself because I swear, I wasn’t always this short. My eyes go to my forehead, where the little horseshoe-shaped scar hides under my curls. I got it from two drains that I had in my skull. “No one can see it,” says my mum. “It’s just you that notices.” Maybe she’s right. She’s probably right. But I know it’s there; that’s what matters. I know that it’s there because now that winter is creeping up on us, it stings on cold days. And it sometimes makes an appearance if I rush to do my hair up and I pull it too tight. I feel weird about having to pilot my body, because my mind is full of these endless possibilities – my thoughts are so expansive, so creative. I could do so much with my mind. But it’s trapped inside a body which hurts, which doesn’t work properly, which has let me down so badly in the past.

I close my eyes and imagine what the doctors saw in those 14-hour neurosurgeries while they were chipping away at the lump of cancer cells via an endoscope. I bet their minds wandered at points and they thought about what will be on TV that night. It’s only natural, I suppose – if you do brain surgeries for a living it must become a mechanical process at some point. It almost makes me jealous that I was just another brain to them. In the normal, healthy world I’m special and stand out like a sore thumb when people find out. But to this bunch of neurosurgeons, I was simply another case.

I can’t believe I have imposter syndrome about having had cancer.

After stepping away from the mirror and finishing my routine of morning self-scrutiny, I get my phone out. A Snapchat memory pops up. Two years ago. It’s from my matriculation, which was a week or two before I got diagnosed. She is definitely not me – she is so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Then I think about her, and she really wasn’t. She was in pain every day, with a tumour smushing her brain down, making her see double and plunging her emotions to unbelievable lows. I hate Snapchat memories because it shows pre-diagnosis Debora, and it’s like watching the second season of Game of Thrones and knowing that the Red Wedding is coming. So happy that it’s going well for them but my god Robb Stark, the signs are so obvious when you look back! Retrospect is such a bitch. I want to scream at the Debora in the photo. To shake her. “Make that Specsavers appointment now! The pressure in your brain is at a dangerous point!”

I lock my phone. That’s enough of that.

I pass the mirror again on my way out of my room. I see legs that worked so hard to get out of the hospital bed and walk after surgery. A neck that’s been torn to shreds with scalpels and still works hard to hold my head up as I write. Arms that used to be covered in bruises from all the blood draws and cannulas. And my mouth, which still tells my stories despite having had to swallow mountains of pills to keep me going. The girl in the mirror isn’t so bad after all.

OUBbC: Swishes and switch-offs mark a day of the weird and the mundane

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Oxford 101-50 Lincoln

Free throws in basketball are a closed skill. A closed skill is a skill that when used, there is nothing dynamic, nothing new you need to respond to. You get fouled and the referee blows his whistle, and then you’re alone. It’s just you and the ball and the hoop. This is something that can be practised, again and again and again. And the only difference when it comes to using it in a match is the pressure.

The thing is, last Wednesday’s match against Lincoln did not really put the mens’ Oxford Blues under much pressure (have a peek at the scoreline), and yet their free throw success rate was abysmal. They missed nine out of eighteen attempts. What was even weirder is that this 50% success rate was lower than their success rate at shooting threes—shots from far out and under duress. Their 55% three rate was exceptional.

The theory I’d like to put forward is that it was about pressure, but in the other causal direction. That is, I believe the Blues’ success at free throws might be inversely related to the pressure they’re under. Lincoln were not a proper match. Oxford’s superiority was clear from the first couple of minutes. So, when Oxford were stepping up for free throws, it just didn’t matter. They were going to win anyway. And what does scoring a free throw prove? Conversely, scoring a three proves everything.

Take one instance when Alex, the high-IQ star player you met last week, was leading one of the attacks. He looked both ways, saw Lincoln desperately covering the available passing options, and then did this subtle cock of the head like ‘ok, alright then, fine’. He hit a perfect shot over the guy in front of him and through the middle of the hoop without it touching the rim—what is fittingly known as a ‘swish’.

In this way, shooting a three can be like pulling the ripcord on an attack, just going for it. In particular, Karl Baddeley, who to be fair is a shooting guard, scored six threes out of nine attempts. These high-value shots maintained the Blues’ momentum throughout the game, so that there was never any real point where they faltered, so that Lincoln were never allowed to hope.

So, scoring threes is a way to show how good you are. And this game, in a nutshell, was Oxford showing how good they can be. They may not have shown the absurd dominance of the women’s Blues, who this week won their respective league match 113-17 (what??), but it was still an overpowering performance. Josh S hit 25 points, including 13 rebounds. Alex hit 20 points. Orin, the captain, got 15 points, 10 rebounds, and 6 steals. That’s only 4 steals away from a ‘triple double’, i.e. hitting double digits in all three metrics.

Josh Soifer (Image Credit: Mansoor Ahmed).

The fact he got close to this is pretty demonstrative of Lincoln’s sloppiness. They were easily pickpocketed in possession far too many times, and, in consequence, it felt like Oxford were just constantly on the attack. It felt that way to me. Imagine what it felt like to the Lincoln players who had to constantly be turning back, demoralised, to defend yet another offensive. Not a fun afternoon.

My afternoon was also not the best. What is certainly not a closed skill but is still one repeated enough times for mastery to be possible is the talent of negotiating an Oxford term. And, by my fourth term here, I very much have not mastered it. Consequently, I watched this game in a state of unnecessary hunger and tiredness. And therefore, it was hard for me, sitting there in what seemed like a freezing cold sports hall, in that hazy, not-maximally-conscious condition that it seems most of us experience life through by this point in term, to diagnose whether my detachedness as the match went on was really related to the game state.

But either way, around midway through the third quarter, I made the note, “I’ve stopped keeping track of the score”. Oxford had a forty-point lead and counting, and what happened next didn’t seem to matter very much. Then, as if the world wanted to test whether I really believed what I’d just written, my next note reads, “there is some problem with the scoreboard?”.

There are two courts at Iffley Road. One is in the Acer Nethercott Hall, which is only a couple of years old, and with its crisp wooden walls and general new feeling seems to merit that hackneyed term: ‘state of the art’. The other is in the airy and school-like Main Sports Hall, which this match was moved to (from the Acer Nethercott) at late notice.

Though it was initially built specifically to accommodate Rhodes Scholars’ basketball needs, the hall is now a bit worse for wear—look at the backboard’s shabby blue safety barrier in this article’s header image. Still, you’d expect it to do the job. Yet the reason any of this matters, and the reason I know(/have been complained to) about the late-notice change of venue, is this scoreboard incident. That is, the hall did not do its job.

It turns out the scoreboard is quite important in a basketball match. For the period it was not working, the game had an offbeat, chimerical edge, like it was a training session. It was the same sense of unreality I got from watching lockdown football with fake crowd noise, like a key ingredient that made this whole charade actually mean something was being withheld.

For the harm it caused, the incident certainly got adequate reaction. The referee was really angry. The other team’s coach was really angry. Bill, the Oxford club president, came to me after the match incensed. “This is what we’re up against!”

It had definitely been a distraction, and Oxford will now be subject to a £150 fine (though most of that will be covered by Sports Fed, the body in charge of Oxford sport). Yet you might still ask whether Bill’s anger was a bit over the top. I mean they had just won a game by 50 points.

But it’s easier to understand in context. Bill and Jamie, the coach, have tried everything they can to make Oxford basketball feel official and organised. While Lincoln line up with their no. 2 wearing a no. 12 shirt with the one peeled off, both Oxford players and coaches wear shining new Kappa-branded outfits. While Lincoln warm up in a fairly causal way, Oxford have this system where everybody who goes past each other does a passing high five, which oddly makes it feel very coordinated. While Lincoln stand around informally to get their pre-game team talk, Oxford set up in a proper team talk ‘formation’ with the five starters sitting down and the rest of the players behind, except for Bill who stands next to Jamie’s seat.

With that all in place, with the game going as well as it was, I guess it felt like a kick in the teeth for Bill for one of the few things out of his control to fail. But its significance in that sense shows how everything else is going so right. The team is now 5-0 overall this season—a perfect record, including the three league wins I’ve covered in these articles. It’s the team’s biggest win streak since the 2010-11 season. And for all that was weird about that day. For all the strangeness about the free throws and the threes, for all my hunger and general personal disarray, for all the scoreboard brouhaha: the result itself was thoroughly mundane. Winning is becoming commonplace for the Oxford Blues.

Image Credit: OUBbC.

Behind the Screens: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly of Referencing in Film

Referencing in Hollywood is a bit like a currency at the moment; writers can buy some pre-existing emotional attachment, with very little effort on their part, to enhance their film. Certainly, the discourse around referencing the past (often manifesting as nostalgia) has made it seem like a cheap alternative to originality. The complaints over the Disney remakes make this abundantly clear. However, nostalgia and referencing, on the whole, isn’t the entire opposite of originality, but can instead coexist to create something more than a film. We all know films don’t exist in a vacuum, and so when a screenwriter references something from the past, the outside world, or the film’s inner world, it broadens the film’s scope by connecting it to pre-existing ideas. It can add emotion and understanding, but it also risks being safe, boring and predictable. There’s a line that a film has to walk between, and, particularly nowadays, it is toed repeatedly, with varying results. 

We seem to live in an age of nostalgia, and, of course, because capitalism exists, this is being exploited by Disney in the live-action remakes of their animated classics. Remakes cleverly broaden a target audience to include both the original generation and a new one, meaning more revenue. Yet, simply harking back and tapping into audience’s nostalgia doesn’t necessarily make a film good; Disney seems to rely on the premade connection audiences have with the original and does very little with it. The majority of the live-action Disney remakes have flopped critically and in audience reviews, because the audience knows they are being played – regurgitating films feels cheap. Thus, the key to successful nostalgia in films is knowing what the essence of the original was and knowing what can change. 

There is one Disney remake that I saw as relatively successful, Cinderella (2015). It shows a deep understanding of the original source material whilst keeping the story at once fresh and nostalgic. Two examples of this are the dress and the romance between The Prince and Ella; both are revised, but both keep the quintessential elegance that Cinderella is famous for. I thought it was an interesting choice to not include the songs from the original in the remake. Quite astutely, the writers recognised that the songs are not a fundamental part of the film, unlike many Disney princess movies. The film remains in character but reconfigured to create something different. 

Star Wars Episode VII does this to a certain degree, as the plot is an almost carbon copy of Episode IV, yet they manage to reinvent some characters and ideas. Simply, it seems, the key to nostalgia is to add something slightly new. There needs to be a reason why someone watches the new film rather than their beloved favourite. If we think of nostalgia in more general terms, for an era, Stranger Things is an example of where they create something new, but grounded in 80s references, enabling the audience to reminisce, even if you weren’t alive at the time. It recalls a ‘simpler’ time, not just the 80s, but childhood. 

We all know the power that nostalgia has over us, but to make nostalgia work in a film it needs to give us more than a reference. Intertextuality is described as ‘the interrelationship between two texts, especially two works of literature’, especially how one helps the understanding of another. This can be applied to films as well. I first heard the term in reference to Pan’s Labyrinth in the YouTube video by Nerdwriter, a video I would seriously recommend. Nerdwriter notices that, in regards to referencing, director Del Toro constantly uses references to other historical events, other fairy tales and other stories to elevate the film to be more than just a stand-alone movie. The references enable the audience to understand the central theme of disobedience and allow Ofelia to escape death and, in a sense, live in the references she makes. In these multiple references, such as to Shelley’s Frankenstein, Del Toro creates a new fairy tale from the body parts of others. Similarly, Stranger Things references Stephen King and 80s classic films, but by having no one source, it becomes a homage rather than stale and predictable. These references mean that an otherwise solitary movie suddenly has a wide range of cultural associations to connect itself to, and it more easily embeds itself into the culture on the whole. Indeed, referencing can make a film more than just a film; it affords a film both greater longevity and emotional impact.

Thanks to Marvel, the idea of a cinematic Universe is something we’ve all become familiar with now. Love it or hate it, you cannot fault Marvel for the unprecedented task of connecting all its stories into a cohesive film experience. In-film referencing has become a standard for the MCU, as it produces interconnected films that are entertaining for audience after audience. How do they do it? It’s a combination of clever, thoroughly planned writing and an understanding of the desires of the viewer. The first film following a new superhero uses far less referencing than sequels do, and often in a more understated way. They understand that the audience needs time to understand the new hero in their own right, and this allows non-Marvel fans to see the movie and enjoy it as well. Every time a new superhero is crafted, it creates the opportunity for new audiences to get hooked on the Marvel bug. For the studio as well, having a more isolated first film means that they can limit the superhero in future sequels if audiences react poorly to them. References are still integral to the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but their placement shows a deep understanding of what the audience needs in order to enjoy the film. As their films progress, however, this will become increasingly difficult to achieve. Referencing a universe that the audience has to learn via films is a balancing act, between making the references important enough to be relevant and exciting, but accessible enough to not alienate first-time viewers.

Referencing appears everywhere in film, especially nowadays. We are awfully self-aware about where we came from and where we are going. Our brains are hardwired to make connections between things; it only makes sense for films to use this in their favour. However, we cannot keep rehashing the past and expect something exciting. We have to connect old and new, familiar and exceptional, to truly make referencing funny, emotional or thrilling. Otherwise, it is, quite literally, a case of been there done that. 

Dame Sarah Gilbert to deliver Richard Dimbleby Lecture

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Dame Sarah Gilbert, Saïd Professor of Vaccinology and co-developer of the Oxford-AstraZeneca Covid vaccine, will be delivering the prestigious Richard Dimbleby Lecture on December 6th

The lecture, named in honour of journalist Richard Dimbleby, is delivered by influential figures in business, science, or politics and is broadcast annually by the BBC. This year, Dame Gilbert will add her name to a roster including Sir Tim Berners-Lee, inventor of the World Wide Web, and Former President Bill Clinton. 

The past two Dimbleby lectures have been halted by the pandemic. It seems appropriate, therefore, that the speaker to restart the series was at the forefront of tackling Covid-19. The BBC Head of Daytime, Carla-Maria Lawson, told the Evening Standard that “the integral role Dame Sarah has played in the race to protect us from coronavirus and her ground-breaking work in pioneering lifesaving drugs make her truly inspirational.”

Gilbert has spent over 10 years developing vaccinations. Her research has focused on inducing a T cell response to fight viral diseases, malaria, and cancer. In 2014, Gilbert led the first trial of an Ebola vaccine, and when the Middle East Respiratory Syndrome (MERS) virus struck, she worked on developing a vaccine from Saudi Arabia. 

In early 2020, when COVID was first emerging in China, Gilbert and her team began developing a vaccine to fight the disease. Because of their rapid and rigorous research, the Oxford-AstraZeneca vaccine was among the first vaccines to be approved for rollout in the UK. It demonstrated an efficacy of 76% and has since been used in over 170 countries. 

Early doses of the vaccine were manufactured here in Oxford at the Clinical Bio-Manufacturing Facility before the vaccine production was moved to an external manufacturer in Italy. Vice-Chancellor Louise Richardson credits the knowledge and experience of researchers including Gilbert as the key to Oxford’s development of the vaccine “at lighting speed”.

Thanks to the work of Dame Gilbert and others on developing this vaccine, the road to a Covid-free future has become more passable. Boris Johnson, who has himself received two jabs of the vaccine, praised Gilbert’s team for helping the UK to “get back to the lives we miss so much” in an interview with the New York Times. 

Gilbert told the Evening Standard: “Whilst my natural home is working with my lab team on vaccine research and development, it’s an absolute honour to be asked to deliver this year’s Dimbleby Lecture.”

This is one more in a string of accolades received by the Oxford virologist. Mattel has created a Barbie doll in her honour, she has become a senior associated research fellow at Christ Church college, and a penguin has been named after her at the Sea Life London Aquarium.

Additionally, the endowment of Professor Sarah Gilbert’s Chair of Vaccinology by the Saïd family will boost further vaccine research and development, according to Vice-Chancellor Richardson. This will contribute to future ground-breaking findings and cement Oxford’s reputation at the forefront of medical research. Richardson believes that “this is how we transform the world for the better, forever, for everyone.”

Dame Gibert’s speech will be the 44th edition of the series, and it will be broadcast by BBC One and BBC iPlayer from Oxford University. 

“Vax” Oxford University Press word of the year

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Remember the days when our language seemed less dramatic, less scientific? Back in the days when the Word of the Year was ‘chav’ (2004), or ‘selfie’ (2013), or even the crying face emoji (2015)? These words seem a far cry from the mass of jargon which has become our everyday vocabulary over the past two years, and, as usual, the announcement of Oxford University Press’s Word of the Year confirms these societal trends: ‘vax’ has been chosen as the the word which best summarizes the year of 2021.

It is unsurprising that after months of reports, discoveries, and protests, the language of vaccination has boomed. By September, the word ‘vax’ had become over 72 times more frequent than at the same time last year. In correspondence to this, lexical derivatives also surged, and terms such as, ‘vax sites’, ‘vax card’, and ‘vaxathon’ became the spoken, and written, norm.

The Oxford Word of the Year award, run by Oxford Languages, is intended to be a word that ‘reflects the ethos, mood, or preoccupations of that particular year and to have lasting potential as a word of cultural significance’. It is decided through various means, including individual social media suggestions, and high-tech software which scans millions of words from online publications over the past twelve months.

The last Word of the Year from 2020 remained unidentifiable. Oxford Languages instead incorporated the mass of language adaption and evolution in a report called ‘Words of an Unprecedented Year’. Perhaps we should take it as an optimistic sign then, that this year we have re-established our ability to be compressed into a single word. 

Alongside the main announcement of ‘vax’ as the Word of the Year, there also comes a full lexical report into the language of vaccines. With such rapid technological advancements that we have been observing and, indeed, been a part of, it is obvious that language would follow a similar development, much like lexicographers experienced during times such as the Industrial Revolution. As new inventions, theories and ideas are created, humans need to find ways to understand and communicate this, and so words, both new and reinvented, alter dramatically. 

For the first time ever, this year, the Word of the Year investigation has also decided to analyse other languages besides English. Given the international influence the pandemic has had, the report examines the terminology of vaccines in nine other languages, from Portuguese to Mandarin. It marks variations in terminology like England’s favouring of a ‘jab’, as opposed to the US’s ‘shot’ or ‘vax’. Another interesting, if predictable, finding to come out of the study is the ability to track the progress of the vaccine rollout scheme through lexis. 

We can see, therefore, that back in December 2020, the most frequently used vaccine related words were ‘vaccine candidate’, ‘vaccine trial’, ‘vaccine distribution’, and ‘vaccine development’. Things were hesitant but hopeful. By March 21, ‘vaccine rollout’ and ‘vaccine dose’ took the lead and then by September, we saw terms such as ‘vaccine mandate’, ‘vaccine passport’, ‘vaccine card’ and ‘vaccine booster’ join the lexicon. ‘Vaccine hesitancy’, which had entered the top ten most used ‘vaccine’ words by March, continues to be widely used. 

It is easy to witness and recall these stages of 2021 history when we see these words, and many have now become second nature to us. Speech which would previously have been exclusive to medics, has now become the everyday dialect of our society. Though sad, this may be an important representation of our engagement and interest in something which would have seemed incomprehensible back in 2019.

Speaking to News 24, Casper Grathwohl, the President of Oxford Languages, said that, “the evidence was everywhere, from dating apps (vax 4 vax) and pent-up frustrations (hot vax summer) to academic calendars (vaxx to school) and bureaucratic operations (vax pass). In monopolizing our discourse, it’s clear the language of vaccines is changing how we talk—and think—about public health, community, and ourselves.” 

‘Vax’ being our Word of the Year may be a positive sign. It reflects a move towards a greater normality that everyone has wished for. Let’s just hope that next year’s word might return to something more light-hearted like an emoji.

Image: Hakan Nural via unsplash.com

Keble college announces new Warden

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Last week, Keble College announced the selection of Dr Sir Michael Jacobs as the new Warden. He will take office in Michaelmas Term 2022, replacing Sir Jonathan Phillips. He currently serves as Clinical Director of Infectious Diseases at the Royal Free Hospital. 

Dr Jacobs said: “I am deeply honoured to have been elected as the next Warden of Keble College. I work with an exceptionally talented, dedicated and principled team at the Royal Free London NHS Foundation Trust who have made incredible things happen in healthcare. I am thrilled to be joining a similar team in the higher education sector who continue to build on the proud and distinctive history of Keble College. The College was founded to broaden the social depth of the student body and I feel extremely privileged to be joining an outstanding place to work and study that is determinedly excellent, progressive, socially responsible and compassionate.”

Keble’s website listed Dr Jacobs’ main medical interests as “the most serious viral infections and medical countermeasures to combat them”. He was educated in Medicine at St John’s College, Oxford and St Bartholomew Hospital Medical School. He then trained as a physician specialising in infectious disease at Imperial College London.

The website also noted that Dr Jacobs “has a major interest in medical education and has had several leadership roles in postgraduate training programmes and examinations”. He served as a Wellcome Advanced Fellow at UCL between 2000 and 2004, and has published several research papers while serving in the NHS. 

He has chaired and participated in multiple advisory boards on dangerous viral infections and served as NHS England’s program director for High Consequence Infective Diseases.

In this role he was at the centre of the UK’s response to the Ebola crisis and led the team who treated Britain’s three patients. In 2016’s New Year’s Honours, he was knighted for his work on infectious diseases. The same team treated the UK’s first COVID-19 cases and continue to respond to the ongoing public health situation as the pandemic evolves. Dr Jacobs is currently taking part on UK, EU, and WHO programmes on vaccines and therapeutic drugs targeting COVID-19.

Outgoing Warden Sir Phillips has worked at Keble since 2010, following a senior role in the Civil Service where he served as Permanent Secretary of the Northern Ireland office. His tenure as Warden saw the opening of the HB Allen Centre, which houses over 200 graduate students, as well as the extension of the College’s outreach program.

Sir Phillips commented “I am really delighted that Michael Jacobs has been chosen to succeed me as Warden of Keble. He will bring great energy and enthusiasm to the role and his wide-ranging experience and distinction as a physician make him an ideal person to take our whole community forward in developing this wonderful institution.” 

Image Credit: Dimitry B/CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons