Seabass Theatre has carved out a niche for itself producing original takes on canonical texts, most memorably last year’s plant-inspired Hamlet staged at the former Music Faculty. When discussing their interests as a production company, Director Seb Carrington says: “Part of our ethos is presenting works that centre around one or two very psychologically complex characters.” Describing their approach, Carrington goes on to state a preference for contemporary aesthetics, explaining that for her this “strip[s] everything away that is restrictive to time or place and strip[s] away things that may be unnecessary to putting forwards a very impactful psychological take, while still offering something interesting interpretation-wise.” Audiences should certainly expect an original take on Faustus and one which the entire creative team is clearly united behind.
Last week I met online with the director (Seb Carrington), the composer (Lucian Ng) and the actress playing the Good Angel (Amber Meeson) to discuss their thoughts about the production. It was immediately clear that they have a strong vision for the play, controversial as it may be for readers who find Faustus at least a partially sympathetic character: “We are interpreting the character of Faustus as a distinctly fascist character. The word omnipotence in the first soliloquy really struck us as the deciding factor of what this production is all about: his kind of quest seeking for infinite power, infinite money, physical/sexual gratification, everything that comes into what does the fascist mindset do.” Carrington is very clear about how she considers the text to be particularly relevant to the present moment, citing the rise of people like Trump and the Tate brothers in the United States: “It is terrifying how much of the play draws an almost direct parallel to current events such as the climbing of the social ladder and the weaponisation of moral things in a very selfish way.”
You may be thinking: what does this actually mean for the performance? Many OUDS shows start off with daring ideas that end up translating poorly onstage, but the team clearly broke down how their conceptual concerns would be communicated onstage. Carrington certainly comes off as a strong leader, with a cast and crew clearly dedicated to bringing their ideas to life.
Although the set designer was not on the call, Carrington briefly described what seemed to be an interesting set-up: “There’s two projectors we are using that are constantly changing the landscape of the play aesthetically with words that snake in and out of the scene or different graphics, different colours. There’s different stage effects with blood and liquids that get thrown around the floor and cleaned up, etc. Everything is constantly emotion.” Beyond the visual effects, the set – I am told – will be very minimal consisting of a white sheet and altar. Carrington explains that this makes lighting and sound crucial in the production to evoke “what the situation is” along with the acting.
Like a lot of bigger venue OUDS shows recently, Doctor Faustus boasts an original score composed by sound designer, Lucian Ng. In explaining the choice to have an original score, Carrington emphasises that the play is written in verse which “itself has a very musical quality” and that the events of the play themselves lend themselves to musical accompaniment. The score is sprinkled throughout and will not accompany the entirety of the action. Ng points out that the play is “inherently very religious” and that a lot of the music that he has written is “liturgical music that is based around plain chant”. He is using “the original plain song melodies” but warping or corrupting them by the way that they are harmonised, drawing on “atonality”. Seabass Theatre has a live choir which will sing “arrangements of plain song melodies” at different points of the show. Carrington explains that “the play as originally conceived by Marlowe was about Catholicism versus Protestantism and Marlowe [was] taking a cynical, agnostic point of view criticising both sides” and so the melodies chosen will relate to the events happening onstage. They explain that “melodies of the Church decay” along with the decay of the space of the play.
As for wider questions of sound design, I am told that all of the actor’s voices will be amplified in order to “explore the full range of the actor’s voices”. Ng explains that “the sound world of the play is a lot more than the original score”. He describes the sound design as intense, using lots of drones and found sounds to “underscore tension on a really subtle level, in the sense that you have something playing at a really low level and it slowly rises and you only realise it’s there maybe five minutes after it’s started playing.” Ng argues that sound design in OUDS is often reduced to single sound effects like shots or door slammings but for him “sound is so important to how you can cultivate a world”.
When looking up information about the show on the Seabass Theatre page before the interview, I noticed a long list of trigger warnings as well as a recommended minimum viewing age. Similarly, crew calls mentioned pails of fake blood. My memory of Doctor Faustus,from reading it years ago, contained more psychological horror than body horror, but a quick search revealed that recent productions of the play seem to lean into gore, especially for the finale. Student shows have a tendency to avoid using fake blood or attempting realistic depictions of violence because of how hard it is to pull it off convincingly so I was curious why this decision had been made here. Carrington explained: “The use of violence as a dramatic technique is incredibly helpful and pertinent, especially for something like this where we’re tapping into the theatrical extremities of the subconscious. You get the invasive thoughts, the subconscious thoughts that lead to this and we are essentially putting those thoughts onto the stage.”
Carrington acknowledged that this is a tough line to walk, the danger of veering into gratuitousness being ever present, but she reassured Cherwell that this wasn’t being “edgy for edgy’s sake”. The director argued that being graphic about the violence is crucial in “situations where we talk about violence that is deeply rooted in misogyny”, hinting at a finale which involves the culmination “in a very horrible and twisted way” of the relationship between Faustus and the Good Angel. Carrington explains: “In this way, it does not strike itself as gratuitous, it strikes itself as an incredibly necessary conversation to be having about the impacts of fascism, about the impacts of this mindset on people who are victims.” She explained that about 90% of the crew is made up of women, non-binary, queer people, and global minorities and so that the show really comes “from a place of rage”.
Carrington had described the Good Angel as a “symbol of female rage” and later told us that she is the only “female-presenting figure in the show”. I asked Amber Meeson how this impacted her performance and she explained that eventually they came to the decision to play the Good Angel as a maternal figure: “It was difficult to tow the line between having this divine figure and also having this figure who all that she wants to do is make sure that Faustus repents and goes to heaven. But there still needs to be some detachment from him in that it has to be his decision, she can’t physically influence him and so, this maternal tone was quite helpful.” She said that playing the Good Angel as a maternal, made it easier to understand how Faustus views her as someone that “he doesn’t really need to listen to”.
After a 30 minute conversation with the three, it is clear that Seabass Theatre’s production is incredibly ambitious and that a lot of work and thought has been put into bringing this vision to life. You have enough descriptions, it is time for Cherwell readers to go and find out what the show looks like!
You can watch Doctor Faustus at the Keble O’Reilly from 26th-29th November.
A renovation project, retrofitting and refurbishing student accommodation at Pembroke College, was “Highly Commended” at the 2025 Oxford Preservation Trust (OPT) awards earlier this month. At the awards ceremony, which took place at St John’s College, Pembroke was recognised in the “Adaptive Re-use” category.
The renovations of 21 to 24 Pembroke Street, comprising four grade II listed cottages in Pembroke’s North Quad, took nine months to complete. They included fabric improvements to the buildings’ facades and the restoration of heritage features, including fireplaces which were lost in previous renovations during the 1960s.
The OPT Awards acknowledge excellence in design, conservation, and sustainability in Oxford, celebrating projects which enhance the city’s landscape and demonstrate a communal focus. This year, plaques were awarded to eight projects, with thirteen runners-up. Harris Manchester College won in the “Adaptive Re-Use” category for their College chapel renovation. Merton College also took home a winner’s plaque in the “Building Conservation” category, awarded for work done on the stained-glass windows of their Old Library.
A spokesperson for Pembroke told Cherwell: “Everything we do at Pembroke is underpinned by our core purpose, which is to serve the common good through the provision of education and the promotion of scholarship and research, but we know that today this involves adapting to a changing world around us.”
While the refurbishments have enhanced the buildings’ original character, the installation of a low carbon enabled heating system reflects the College’s commitment to sustainability. Other areas of the College’s site have also been decarbonised.
Throughout the refurbishment, Pembroke emphasised the importance of student satisfaction. One first year undergraduate who now lives in the renovated staircases told Cherwell: “I love the building. The recent renovations have made living in a college dorm feel more like living in a holiday resort. The rooms, the living areas, the kitchen, the bathrooms, all of it is done to an excellent standard. The price of the accommodation is the second cheapest at Pembroke and yet by far the best accommodation here.”
The renovation plans were drawn up by Ridge and Partners, a built environment consultancy whom the college has worked with previously. Subsequent building work was completed by Benfield and Loxley, the principal contractor for the project.
The COP30 summit, which concluded on 21st November in Brazil, saw the launch of a project from Oxford University’s Technology and Industrialisation for Development (TIDE) Centre. The Nature’s Intelligence Studio aims to observe and imitate natural principles in biological systems to advance renewable energy goals, environmental monitoring, and sustainable mobility.
This process of imitating nature is known as biomimicry, which is an innovative branch of science, drawing from nature’s ways of creating natural solutions for problems such as energy efficiency, material strength, and climate adaptability. The goal is to study natural processes and structures to create new technologies, without involving living organisms – instead studying the mechanisms they use. The development of some wind turbine blades to mimic the shape of humpback whale flippers due to their natural aerodynamic form is an example of biomimicry.
The creation of the studio has been supported by an investment of around £1 million from Oxford University, philanthropic foundations, and the Development Bank of Latin America and the Caribbean (CAF). Initially, the Nature’s Intelligence Studio will operate between Oxford and Belém, Brazil, with plans for future expansion to other regions.
The Nature’s Intelligence Studio sets out to treat the planet’s biodiversity not just as a conservation priority but as a source of innovation. TIDE Director Amir Lebdioui said: “the developing world holds most of the planet’s biodiversity, which is a vast library of biological intelligence built over 3.4 billion years of evolution.”
Lebdioui further told Cherwell that the project “will incentivise students and faculty to join a community interesting [sic] in bio-inspired innovation. Students are more than welcome to reach out in case they want to contribute”.
The Studio aims to launch three initial programmes. The first of these is an ‘energy atlas’ of nature’s innovations, to be developed in collaboration with the startup Asteria. This platform will use AI to analyse over 4 million scientific articles to map biological solutions to industrial energy challenges.
The Studio is also planning an ‘ideathon’: in partnership with CAF, they will aim to identify promising innovations from the global south, focusing on biologically inspired prototypes in real-world field conditions. Finally, Studio aims to share these benefits, recognising that many biological insights originate from indigenous and local communities. The Studio plans to ensure these communities share in the value created. This approach fosters new economic and scientific opportunities amongst indigenous groups.
The former Debenhams department store on the corner of George Street is to be turned into a 9,000m2 laboratory space. Construction will begin next year and will be completed and operational by 2028.
The store, which closed down in early 2021 and remained boarded up ever since, is to be transformed into a “life sciences and technology space”. After the Crown Estate launched a search for a company that could redefine the department store, their £80 million bid eventually resulted in a partnership between Pioneer Group and Oxford Sciences Enterprises (OSE).
Pioneer Group has built a reputation for life science growth facilitation in Britain and in Europe. Oxford University has been marked second globally for Life Sciences Research, which the current Debenhams project is set to contribute to. Richard O’Boyle, Executive Director at Pioneer Group, commented: “With the UK’s largest network of life science experts, cutting-edge labs, and robust support systems, we are poised to redefine industry standards and foster a vibrant scientific community.”
Oxford Sciences Enterprises is a venture capital firm and one of the world-leading builders of university spinouts; since 2015 it has built an investment portfolio worth up to £2 billion, within what it calls “Oxford’s innovation ecosystem”. CEO at Oxford Science Enterprises, Ed Bussey, spoke of the difficulties of accessing “the right lab or start-up space – which can be a significant barrier to entry for companies as they scale”. The repurposing of the former Debenhams store hopes to remedy this lack of available spaces for early-stage businesses in supply-constrained locations, such as Oxford.
The Crown Estate told Cherwell: “The transformation of this site will ensure the next generation of pioneering science and technology companies have the necessary space to grow their operations in the heart of Oxford, benefitting the local and national economies, while unlocking subsequent social value for the community.”
The former Debenhams store is currently being stripped out by contractors BibbEgan, who are preparing to hand it over to The Crown Estate, ready for the next phase of construction.
For anyone who has ever wandered down Turl Street, it would be impossible to miss the elaborate window displays of Scriptum, the fine stationary shop which has become a staple of Oxford since its creation in 2003. Whether it be the miniature hot-air balloons which hang from the shop’s ceiling, the Hungarian marionettes which adorn the upper floor, or the cast iron paperweights shaped as toucans and tortoises, anyone who enters the store will be sure to find something which sparks their curiosity. Yet despite its universal appeal, Scriptum is a shop reflective of the interests and passions of one particular individual: Azeem Zakria. I spoke to Scriptum’s owner and creative director about the origins of the store, the vision and values which define his business approach, and the reasons why Scriptum is so much more than just a stationary shop.
The creation of Scriptum was by no means something which Azeem ever anticipated. His first career was as an air steward, a line of work which appealed to his love of travel, but which ultimately could not fulfil him in any long-term capacity. “I really wanted to move on to do something a bit more serious, you could say”. As the youngest of six children, all of whom were already employed as engineers or architects, he felt mounting pressure to find his purpose in life.
It was during a trip to Florence that Azeem came to the realise that running a stationary business was what he wanted to do. “Florence had these amazing stationary shops, with really beautiful products which I had never seen before.” With £45,000 of savings, Azeem made the decision to take a risk: he moved to Oxford and opened Scriptum. Despite not knowing “a single person” in the city and having no experience of running a business, he tells me that “within days the magic would start”. Twenty-two years have since passed and Scriptum has grown and flourished, becoming a much-beloved fixture of Oxford for citizens, tourists and students alike.
The commerce of Florence might have been the short-term catalyst for opening Scriptum, but Azeem’s choice to sell fine stationary was not entirely unprecedented. He developed a love for stationary at a young age, recalling his purchase of his first “leather bound journal” from Selfridges at the age of 15. “I remember I paid £70 for it. And this must have been in the early 90s, so that was a lot of money back then. But more importantly, it was a lot of money for me. I came from a very large family who lived in a small house. We didn’t have a huge amount of money.” It is therefore no surprise that the journals sold by Scriptum are one of Azeem’s most treasured products. “They are really special to me […] they have this longevity; they’re going to be here after we’ve all gone perhaps”.
It is also a matter of great sentimentality and importance to Azeem that Scriptum’s journals are designed by the people who work in the shop. “When I have young people joining the team, I always encourage them to design a product, find their skill […] Within a few months, they’re seeing something that they’ve converted from their artwork into a product, which they’re actually then seeing being sold as well”.
Azeem’s efforts to allow his employees as much creative freedom as possible is part of his belief that “delegation” is the key to running a successful business. “I don’t think of Scriptum as my baby, because I think that’s really unhealthy to hold on to something. I prefer to see myself more as a custodian of this business. You have to have trust in people: [..,] that way, I think you get to keep them longer. All the staff at Scriptum are really overqualified […] That’s something I personally find quite humbling”.
In order to allow his employees to take on as much responsibility as possible, Azeem spends most days at the shop “in the basement, unpacking deliveries”. Yet he is always looking for new ways to connect with his customers. Over lockdown he hosted a men’s letter writing club, with the aim of reducing isolation during such a difficult time. However, it is through his appreciation for opera and that he has been able to have such frequent and meaningful encounters with his clientèle. “I love opera myself. And I think that opening a shop is very easy. You have a space, you put things in it, and then you wait for your customers to come and buy them. But a stationary shop requires a bit more than that. It requires a bit of soul”. No matter the hour of the day, you will be sure to hear some of the greatest arias playing in Scriptum. “I’ve found customers in the shop crying because the music evokes a memory. And I’ve often spoken to people who will say things like ‘this aria reminds me of my father’, or something of that sort”.
Although Scriptum works with the best atelier workshops and suppliers across the United Kingdom and Europe, Azeem remains firmly opposed to the term “luxury” when it comes to describing the products he sells, assuring me “it’s about quality more than luxury”. His reluctance to this term stems from the way it could “exclude” certain people, namely Oxford’s student population. He realised during lockdown that “we needed to do a bit more for the young population in Oxford” and came up with the idea of selling paper by the sheet. “As a student, you might have to write one important letter every now and then […] Instead of having to buy an entire box of writing paper, which might be costly, you can just purchase one”.
Azeem strongly disagrees with the current view that letter writing is a dying art. In fact, he identifies “a resurgence” in this practice and rejects the idea that that writing things by hand and utilising technology are mutually exclusive. “When the typewriter came out, people were concerned that letter writing would stop. It doesn’t, it increases”.
He hopes that Scriptum can play a role in encouraging students to start recording their time here in a material way, whether that be via letter-writing or journalling. “I certainly think as a student in Oxford, it’s nice to have something tangible years later. When I was your age, I wasn’t told about these things. It’s only years later I’ve realised the importance of it”. He admits that “it’s really not my job to tell the students that ‘this is such a magical time in your life, you need to write something down’” but remains steadfast in his opinion that you would be “missing out” to only retain ‘paperless’ memories from your Oxford days.
Pour out a glass for the second annual Intoxtigation. 562 respondents told Cherwell all about where, when, why, and how much Oxford students are drinking. Now it’s time to reveal the results. The best bar, the best drink, the most alcoholic course, college, and year, and some of the wildest stories – you’ll find it all below.
Before we begin, a note on data: it is difficult to work out how much people are drinking from a self-reported survey. Few consider their drinking in terms of units, but there aren’t many other reliable metrics from which it can be estimated. We went with the number of days drinking per week, with an additional question on how many days respondents drank specified numbers of units. We also asked how many days they had been drinking in week 4, in order to compare perception with reality (respondents were surprisingly on the money). In estimating intensity, we also looked at where people were drinking. As a result, this survey is not claiming to be a perfect encapsulation of every drop of alcohol consumed within Oxford. It’s a tour around attitudes, anecdotes, and habits in drinking.
We received responses from every college, but excluded colleges from rankings when they were based on fewer than seven responses (Merton College, Mansfield College, St Catherine’s College, and Trinity College).
The colleges ranked
New College was the booziest college in Oxford, with the average student drinking on 3.62 days per week. Second and third place were taken by Jesus and Christ Church, closely following with 3.5 and 3.1 days respectively. Other strong contenders included St John’s (3.1), The Queen’s (2.9), Balliol (2.86) and St Hilda’s (2.71).
At the other end of the spectrum were Lady Margaret Hall (2.33), Corpus Christi (2.32), Keble (2.31), and St Edmund Hall (2.20). Ultimately, the three most teetotal colleges (or PPHs) were Regent’s Park (1.71), St Anne’s (1.78), and Worcester (2.19). For Regent’s, however, this may have just been efficiency, rather than sobriety; for three respondents, at least one of those days would exceed 14 units (the NHS recommended limit for a week).
Yet our survey also showed the gap between perception and reality. Our respondents thought the tipsiest colleges would be Balliol, St Peter’s, and – as our evidence revealed – the fairly sober Teddy Hall. It’s possible a great bar doesn’t always translate to more drinking…
The courses ranked
Most alcoholic course was a different story. Stereotypes about hard-working STEM students and no-contact-hours humanities students were generally confirmed, but with some notable exceptions. The most sober course (with 1.86 days spent drinking per week) was Theology and Religion – perhaps that one day was a Sunday. Aside from this, the sciences dominated: Maths (1.90), Physics (2.05), Human Sciences (2.07), Biochemistry (2.09), Earth Sciences (2.11), and Experimental Psychology (2.11).
By contrast, climbing up the alcoholism ladder were Classics (2.65), the STEM-outlier Biomedical Sciences (2.65), English (2.85), History (2.88), PPE (3) and Law at an average of 3.08 days per week. The most intoxicated course, however, bucked all trends. With an average of 3.14 drunken days per week, Engineering Science students seemingly just can’t put the bottle down, topping the leaderboard as the drunkest degree. Not a great sign for our future buildings and bridges.
Location, location, location
So where exactly are our students doing all this drinking? Our data suggests that Oxford students are nothing if not consistent in their favourite watering holes. Despite all the buzz regarding rising pub prices, college bars and pubs are still essentially neck-and-neck as the city’s favourite locations. Respondents were asked where they drank the most, which we then compared to how many days they drank. Respondents who drank most in college bars drank an average of 3.04 days a week, narrowly beating pubs (3.01). Clubs trailed behind the two at 2.77 (must be all those blacked-out rounds of shots), followed by drinking in college accommodation at 2.48.
Despite stereotypes of lonely and overworked Oxonians, only 0.08% of respondents reported primarily drinking alone, half of whom were at Merton, and over half of whom reported drinking primarily due to emotions or essays. Statistics which, if nothing else, are worrying in their existence, but reassuring in their proportion.
What is interesting is not where people drink, but how little concern about cost seems to affect the choice. Weekly expenditure was nearly identical between mainly drinking in pubs (£23), college bars (£23), and clubs (£22). Even drinking in college accommodation averaged out to £16 pounds per week. The only real outlier was drinking alone (£8), which stubbornly resisted Oxford’s rapid inflation and remained alluringly affordable. In other words, Oxford students are seemingly willing to spend roughly the same amount regardless of location, suggesting that convenience, culture, and company matter more in choosing where to drink.
A Balliol bartender told Cherwell that people drink whatever is cheapest, which at Balliol is Hobgoblin. She did not have glowing things to say about the taste of the drink. On the other hand, a St Hilda’s bartender reported a broad range of popular drinks: “We started selling San Miguel this term and it’s ridiculously popular. The only thing that comes close to it is Stella to be honest – although on the cocktails side our passionfruit martini goes down a storm. We also get loads of requests for Guinness, so are bringing that onto draught for next term. Oh and of course – our cocktail and beer pitchers are some of our most popular offerings!”
When it comes to the pubs themselves, a clear favourite emerged. The Lamb and Flag swept the poll with 83 votes, firmly claiming its title as Oxford’s best pub for the second year in a row. The Four Candles (63), White Rabbit (56), King’s Arms (54), and The Bear (50) completed the top five. According to the most frequent and regular pub goers, the order reshuffled slightly, with the Lamb and Flag still secure, but The Bear climbing to second place, and White Rabbit rounding off a holy trinity that sits at a convenient triangle in Oxford’s dense centre.
Inappropriate imbibing
Unsurprisingly, all this drinking doesn’t always stay in pubs and bars. Respondents listed some of the most inappropriate places they have been drunk. The standout answer by a wide margin was tutorials, with around 40 students having experienced at least one tipsy tute. College chapels featured 13 times, with students reporting everything from doing a reading of a Bible verse drunk, to singing a solo at Evensong after a few too many. One respondent even claimed to have been drunk and locked inside their chapel at 3am. Some answers went even further, with students confessing to being drunk at the Master’s Lodgings, a Principal’s Collection meeting, the Sheldonian on matriculation day, and in one particularly memorable entry, the “gravel of the driveway of [their] tutor’s house”.
With a whopping 40 respondents confessing to turning up to tutorials mildly hungover, mildly dying, and in some cases, wildly still intoxicated, it seems Oxford drinking culture follows students straight from the club to the classroom. Some respondents describe all-bad experiences, like death warmed up. Others swore up and down it “makes your answers better” due to “pure adrenaline”. We can only hope that this was true for our one respondent, who described still being drunk during their last preliminary exam. Experiences reported ranged from petrifying to downright bizarre, with one student confessing to solving a problem in slow motion, only to have their tutor start “playing the f**king banjo at me to shame me”, and others describing a post-Halloween morning class where someone brought a cereal box instead of their laptop. One brave student soldiered through an entire tutorial before sprinting out to throw up down a grate on Ship Street. Their tute partner described them as “unusually subdued”.
Special mentions must be made for the May Day tutorials. Several beautiful May morning classes were interrupted by students stepping out to throw up, falling asleep, and at some points even almost fainting. The only comfort? It was May morning for everyone else in the class too.
The institution of the college bar
If you’re going to drink at college bars, you want to drink at the best ones. According to the respondents to our survey, that’s Balliol bar, St Peter’s bar, or Jesus bar. The draw might be obvious for Balliol – it was also voted best college drink, and its central location may account for 72% of its voters attending other colleges. A Balliol bartender told Cherwell that college bar crawls often come to a screeching halt when they reach Balliol, with all other college bars forgotten for the rest of the night.
It divided opinion, however, in our “Rant about a college bar” section. Its supporters were avid: “Balliol Bar might be the best thing about my university experience”; “Balliol Bar is so good and cheap and awesome”; “A shining beacon against corporations and late stage capitalism”. But its detractors were equally passionate. According to one: “Balliol Bar is OVERRATED. IT IS BUSY, IT SMELLS, AND THE FLOOR IS STICKY”. For another, the “blood red scheme” gave “slightly dodgy vibes much more in keeping with the college”. From a Balliol student, there was a different criticism: “Balliol bar is great for everyone who’s not Balliol since the reason it’s so cheap is because of the insane rent prices.”
A bartender at Balliol told Cherwell that the bar gets most busy on a Thursday night when it gets inundated with drunk rugby and netball players on crewdates and bar crawls. She highlighted the peculiar trend at Oxford of drinking being a punishment. People don’t drink to enjoy drinking, she said, they drink to get as drunk as possible. Comparing it to her home city of Glasgow, where, she said, people drink for enjoyment, the gamification of drinking was quite odd to her.
On the other hand, almost half of the votes for St Peter’s bar (48%) came from its own students, many of whom emphasised the importance of its remaining student-run. Across the survey, student-run bars were overwhelmingly popular. 82% of people preferred their bars to be run by students. In longer-answer questions, respondents praised student-run bars for the opportunities they provided, both for work experience and for paid work, in a university that bans term-time working.
Leo Kilner, one of the St Hilda’s bar managers, spoke to Cherwell about his experience behind the bar. St Hilda’s operates a hybrid system, with the College having taken over the bar after the COVID-19 pandemic. Students run the bar, while the College is in charge of stock and devising staff rotas. This is a relationship of autonomy and high expectations. The bar is expected to pay for itself, but the bar team is able to try all sorts of strategies to achieve this. At the moment, they are focusing on drawing in students from other colleges, taking advantage (for once) of Hilda’s less central location: “Everyone walks past Hilda’s on the way to O2 or the Bullingdon, so it’s the ideal pres spot.”
He considered student-run bars to have a more communal, convivial atmosphere than their professional counterparts, and to provide some of the cheapest drinks in Oxford, since they weren’t attempting to cover a professional salary. However, the downside of this was the strain on the bar team. Each member of the team had to play so many roles – bartender, events planner, strategiser – alongside an Oxford degree. They host live music nights, karaoke, Champions League football nights, and pool tournaments, making the bar an events space in its own right, not just for pres. Something appears to have paid off. Despite low uptake of the survey from St Hilda’s, the bar was the ninth most popular, and 70% of those who voted for it attended other colleges.
The student-led status of the Balliol bar was also a point of pride for the bartender Cherwell spoke to. She believed that student-run bars make for a better atmosphere, that people like knowing who is behind the bar, and that it is a great opportunity for the bartenders working there. She added that with student-run bars, there was no pressure to make a profit and that they can just be a space for people. She lamented the loss of student-run bars across the University.
In some ways, people felt more strongly about the best bar than the worst. On the latter question, there were double the number of blank responses than for the best bar. Still, the result was unequivocal – Wadham College bar is the worst college bar in Oxford, with 64 votes and numerous rants. Apparently, the quality brought out the poets in respondents, with numerous metaphors used to encapsulate its horror. A cafe, an NHS waiting room, and a youth club which had recently received its alcohol licence were all comparisons drawn to the Wadham bar. That, of course, was when it was open. The occasional 9.30pm closing time attracted considerable approbation, as did the bright lighting and the plastic cups. One Wadham historian put it in the most militant terms: “Wadham undergrads, we are supposed to be Communists. Seize the means of having a good old time.”
When approached for comment, Wadham College told Cherwell: “We have various spaces for our students in our dedicated Undergraduate and Graduate Centres. There is a JCR adjacent to the bar and an extensive lounge directly above the bar, where Bops take place. These combined areas form the social space for the students, not just the bar itself”. They reported being “in consultation with the SU [Wadham JCR] about extending and refurnishing the bar and JCR area. We expect to improve and revive the space over the Christmas vacation and in Hilary term.” Watch this space?
Drinking culture
The reasons Oxford students reach for a drink are, unsurprisingly, overwhelmingly social. A whopping 58.7% cited socialising with friends as their primary motivation, with 28.8% pointing to social events more broadly. Just 1.2% admitted to drinking for emotional reasons, 0.9% for dates, and a brave 0.5% confessed to alcohol-fuelled essay writing. Meanwhile, 8.4% abstained from drinking entirely.
The dominance of social drinking suggests Oxford’s booze culture is less about drowning sorrows or Dutch courage than it is about fitting in. When nearly nine in ten students are drinking primarily to bond with mates or navigate the endless carousel of bops, formal halls, and college bar sessions, abstaining becomes a social minefield. It’s hardly shocking that teetotallers remain a minority – though with 52 respondents choosing not to drink, there’s a quiet contingent opting out. While we emphasised that both drinkers and non-drinkers were welcome to fill in the survey, it’s also reasonable to assume that more people who drink will answer it, leading to a selection bias.
But how much are students actually putting away? The NHS recommends no more than 14 units per week, ideally spread over three or more days. Our survey found 181 respondents regularly exceeding this threshold on at least one day per week. The breakdown reveals a stubbornly male-dominated pattern: 71 men versus 55 women drinking over 14 units in a single day weekly, with the gender gap widening as frequency increases. Among those drinking heavily two days per week, it’s 21 men to twelve women. By four days per week, it’s exclusively male territory. And then there’s the outlier: one Christ Church third year drinking over 14 units seven days a week. If that is true (which Cherwell does doubt) we would like to express concern for his wellbeing. A Balliol bartender observed that during crewdates, girls were more likely to do shots of spirits and order doubles with mixers, whilst the boys drank mostly pints, making them “messier” by the end of the night.
Yet self-perception tells a rosier story. Nearly half of respondents described their drinking as “moderate”, with 25.1% rating it “low”. Only 17.3% admitted to drinking “quite heavily”, and a mere 3% copped to “very heavy” consumption. This perception at least matches some reality. The “low” drinkers drank an average of 1.28 days in week four, the “moderate” drinkers an average of 2.9 days, and the very heavy drinkers reported drinking 4.8 days in the week. But while the amount drunk (and spent) increased, something decreased across these categories – satisfaction. 90% of teetotallers drank as much as they would like, and even moderate (73%) and quite heavy (50%) drinkers were broadly content. But of self-reported very heavy drinkers, 59% drank more or much more than they would like.
The university years follow a predictable arc. Over half of freshers (56%) reported increased drinking since arriving at Oxford, but this enthusiasm steadily wanes. By second year, 48% had ramped up their intake; by third year, 41%; and by fourth year, just 26%. In practice, this reduction appears to be limited to the amount being drunk. Between years, on average, there was just 0.3 days’ difference. Third-years reported drinking 2.85 days per week, while first-years drank 2.5. The places that each year reported drinking in most may account for a difference in perception, or amount, between them. First-years drank the most in college bars or college accommodation. Second-years were split fairly evenly between college bars and pubs. Third and fourth-years overwhelmingly drank the most in pubs, suggesting more social, low-key drinking meetups, rather than the club nights and crewdates of earlier years.
The reverse trajectory tells the sobering truth: only 12% of first-years had cut back, compared to 27% of second-years, 39% of third-years, and a majority 57% of finalists. Whether it’s impending Finals, encroaching adulthood, or simply growing tired of hangovers, Oxford students eventually learn to ease off the accelerator.
But for Kilner in the college bar, the first years weren’t necessarily swarming: “You notice there’s usually one friend group per year group that makes the bar their second home. The rest of the undergrads aren’t necessarily regulars though – especially the freshers, which is surprising. From what I’ve heard across the uni, there is a definite downward trend in drinking in general in our generation, and every new wave of freshers highlights it more and more. We aren’t able to take the freshers’ custom for granted anymore, which I think speaks a lot to how our generation are changing their approach to university.”
In terms of the change in drinking habits across the years, a Balliol bartender said that freshers were most likely to drink the infamous Balliol Blue, whereas third and fourth years stay far, far, away from it. She also noted that drinking was particularly prevalent in Freshers’ Week, when 18-year-olds, who don’t have to face their parents at two in the morning, and are very nervous at being at the formidable Oxford University, drink enough Balliol Blues and Reds to turn their insides purple. Although alcohol consumption decreases across the years, she said the booziest group she has ever served were a group of recent graduates in College for a reunion who were thrilled to be back in their old college bar drinking cheap drinks. Reliving the glory days…
A mountain of waste described as an “environmental catastrophe” has been dumped by a suspected gang of fly-tippers outside of Kidlington, near the River Cherwell. The mass of refuse, measuring around 150 metres long and 6 metres high, has drawn criticism from numerous environmental activist groups.
Reports of the incident come amid proposals by Oxford University and Exeter College to construct a new science park in the area. The disaster complicates the University’s ambitious plan to build a supercomputer within the park complex.
The site, located in the leafy green belt surrounding Oxford, is a hotspot for anglers who have highlighted the risks that the waste might pose to local marine wildlife. Many community leaders and organisations have been quick to highlight the illegality of the incident. Calum Miller, Liberal Democrat MP for Bicester and Woodstock, emphasised that the quantity and scale of the waste was “illegal” and warned against rising waste crime in the country.
An investigation into the waste mountain is being led by the Environment Agency who said that they would “ensure those responsible” for the waste cleared it up. An organised response to the event is yet to be announced.
Addressing other MPs in Parliament, Miller said: “River levels are rising and heat maps show that the waste is also heating up, raising the risk of fire. The Environment Agency said it has limited resources for enforcement, that the estimated cost of removal is greater than the entire annual budget of the local district council.”
In November of 2019, Kidlington Parish Council, which covers the affected area, declared a climate emergency, along with other local governmental authorities.
Questions surrounding rising reports of waste crime have surfaced in reactions to the event. This comes in the aftermath of the government’s national waste crime survey, which discovered numerous blind spots in enforcement and legislation.
Laura Reineke, Chief Executive of Friends of the Thames, a charity campaigning to clean up the waste, told Cherwell: “This illegal dump is the largest pollution event on an inland waterway that this country has seen. Having been left to fester for 4 months, unfortunately damage has already been done to the surroundings, and the precious River Cherwell.
“We are calling for emergency funding to make the site safe, and onward to clear it up, not in 2 years, or 2 months, but immediately. Please sign our petition, and donate to help us challenge, and push this project forward, so we can see the Thames catchment restored, healthy and safeguarded for future generations.”
The charity has launched a working group called Save Our Cherwell to campaign for the removal of the waste mountain, alongside a crowdfunding page and a petition which demands that the government and the Environment Agency take immediate action.
The Parliamentary Committee for Environment and Climate Change, in their policy letter published last month, recommended an independent review into increasing waste crime. Similar fly-tipping incidents in Dorset and Staffordshire have also challenged the government’s commitment to the issue.
To What End is a new meta-theatrical, absurdist play written by Billy Skiggs and Billy Hearld. It begins in what seems to be simplicity: a wartime song hums through the intimate Burton Taylor Studio, where two actors (Luke Carroll and Georgina Cotes) sit quietly on opposite sofas, leafing through books as the audience arrives, instantly immersing you within the production. The music gets louder, and the pair dance to ‘We’ll Meet Again’ by Vera Lynn. Yet what follows is far from a traditional period drama. Skiggs and Hearld’s new play quickly unravels into a chaotic, witty, and unsettling exploration of theatre itself – an investigation of ambition, authorship, and the futility of performance.
The premise is deceptively simple. Two directors, Albie (Peregrine Neger) and Bernard (Tomasz Hearfield), are staging what they think to be “the greatest theatrical work of the century”. Their actors, rehearsing a wartime romance, stumble through a scene in which love is declared across enemy lines. Then, the rehearsal goes wrong: the script is unfinished, and Bernard can’t find the ending. From that moment, logic begins to disintegrate. The rehearsal collapses into arguments. Arguments lead to an interrogation. An interrogation leads to the courtroom. All the settings blend reality and fiction until neither can be distinguished.
Hearld and Skiggs’ script dismantles every structure it builds. It’s a play which is obsessed with its own undoing. An interrogation becomes a quiz show; the courtroom devolves into knock-knock jokes. Each scene doubles back on itself, revealing a performance where we thought there was truth. It’s reminiscent of absurdist, tragicomic theatre: Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, or Beckett’s Endgame – words pile up but meaning continually slips away. The ensemble handled the rapid tonal shifts with impressive precision. Even as scenes dissolved into absurdity, the actors maintained a sense of rhythm that kept the audience engaged.
Much of the play’s humour is brought about by the sharp contrast between its central figures, convincingly acted by Peregrine Neger and Tomasz Hearfield. Albie, with his formal diction, and Bernard, with his colloquial language and vape in hand, represent two poles of theatre: the classical and the contemporary. Wartime songs sit uneasily beside the hiss of the vape, formal RP accents clash with modern slang – the production feels unmoored from time. History consistently bleeds into contemporary life. The ever-present tape recorder suggests the stage itself is a trap, a loop from which no one can escape. It’s deliberately chaotic; confusion becomes the medium through which meaning is made.
The introduction of two police interrogators named Stager (Sanaa Pasha) and Trouper (Madison Howarth) extends the play’s meta-theatrical joke: even the agents of authority are theatrical archetypes. Their questioning unfolds as if the theatre itself is on trial, forcing its makers – and by proxy, the audience – to confront the question of what performance is for.
The fictional directors allow chaos (and even tragedy) for the sake of a ‘better performance’, a possible satirical commentary on how art can exploit real suffering. Quoting Macbeth and invoking its superstition underlines the theme of doomed ambition and the blurred boundary between play and reality. Like Macbeth himself, the characters’ desire to create something great leads to their own undoing. Even the play’s humour feels haunted by this awareness, leaving the audience complicit in the spectacle: laughing at the chaos, yet uneasily aware of its consequences. At times, the relentless layering of meta-theatrical conceits risked overwhelming emotional clarity, but this excess felt deliberate, a part of the play’s critique of theatrical self-obsession. It ends where it began – with the ‘actors’ and ‘characters’ merging again, leaving the audience uncertain as to what is real. Just as the directors and actors seem trapped in endless rehearsals and re-enactments, the audience too is left asking the question posed by the title: all this, to what end?
