Saturday 23rd August 2025
Blog Page 318

Day 1 – Au Paris

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The journey has begun!

London St Pancras – Paris (Gare du Nord): Eurostar. Always a middle-class delight: large, comfy and clean. Watched some Netflix. Sought a train-themed film and found the misjudged Unstoppable starring one of the many Chrises of modern Hollywood. This was on recommendation from Popular Mechanics (an online magazine whose issues are released at the dizzying rate of 6 per year in order to satiate the tastes of the “modern man”, brimming with heady topics such as “Why This Guy Stacked Up 42 Broken PlayStation 4s” all the way to “4 Things to Look For in an Awesome Duffle Bag” – one of which I imagine must be capacity to fit 42 PS4s.

Chilled under the Channel as I watched Chris Pine attempt to stop a hurtling train from disaster. Ate some food. It was an easy start to what I’m sure will be the chaotic marathon of this journey. But I guess the trick with most marathons is to pace yourself (not that I really know from experience – even at primary school the only race I was allowed to attempt on sports day was the novelty obstacle course in which the ‘hurdles’ were things like ‘put on a pair of gloves’ or ‘throw a wellie’ – I can still put on a full hat/scarf/glove look in under 2 seconds).

Paris: Sacré-Cœur! It was only after capturing a full double-page spread of photos that I saw the ‘no photographiesign but of course the IG story was already up. I imagined myself chased through the streets of Paris, Tom Hanks in Da Vinci Code-style, as the secret Church fraternity hounds me chanting “#blessed #AuParis”. Though I doubt any of my 5 followers would turn me in and betray me (despite what my mother says about her sister-in-law). So as a pre-emptory act of defiance, I took a photo of the ‘no photographie sign itself.

A lovely view of Paris from the outside of the Church, sound-tracked by the beats pumping out of the boom-box speakers of the wandering sellers, asking if we wanted a ‘lock for love’ to cuff to the iron railing….attaching something concrete to the irrevocably abstract (I will not call him) both likely however transient to rust (I will not) and decay (I will not). (Maybe I should buy him a duffle bag?)

Food: Wine, crepes, and baguettes. I have never been to the real Paris before. I just want to soak up its culture. My French is laughably poor but it’s technically the only other language other than English I speak (until someone becomes the bigger man and makes drunken sign language across the nightclub floor an official dialect). Something about being in a country with the challenge of functioning alone within it – not as a tourist – is so exhilarating. Overall I’m realising what I am seeking, other than time with my friends, is an atmosphere to thrill and inspire me.

Incidentally I have been toying with a thought all day: those who want to find themselves often spend a lot of time trying to get lost. I am not sure if I’m quite lost enough yet (google maps and all) but I guess I will endeavour to eventually to be found. If all else fails, I can always just go and stack 42 broken PS4s. 

The Watched Pot: On the joys of truffle hunting

Every time you go to the supermarket, open a cookbook or go on social media, you are absorbing contemporary food culture and it’s influencing the way you eat. Remember the dark days of ‘clean eating’, juice pulp crackers and spirulina? Remember those episodes of MasterChef where suddenly everyone was talking about ‘spherification’ because one guy from El Bulli was doing it? Whether we like it or not, the food we choose to put into our bodies is, much like Andy’s cerulean blue sweater in The Devil Wears Prada, a result of decisions and forecasts which we’ll probably never see.

Few ingredients stand the test of time as steadfastly as truffles. When my 74-year-old, ‘I’m-not-a-chef-I’m-a-cook’ dad invited me to see a critically acclaimed documentary on the subject, I buckled in for what I thought would be an hour and a half long hagiographic portrait of what is, in my opinion, an overblown ingredient. I could not have been more wrong about The Truffle Hunters. What directors Gregory Kershaw and Michael Dweck have created is quite simply a work of art.

The film resolutely refuses to focus on the commodity at the centre of the industry it portrays, instead opting to introduce the men (and more importantly the dogs) who are responsible for harvesting the White Alba truffles in the Piedmont hills in Northern Italy. The standout images of food in the film are not the truffles themselves, but the bank of huge, sun-saturated tomatoes being washed by Carlo and his wife, and the bowl of soup shared by an old man and his dog, Birbetta. There are deliciously unsubtle comparisons between the pastoral lives of the truffle hunters and the dealers higher up the supply chain who are up late into the night sourcing and selling (but never finding time to eat) the truffles they base their careers around.

Along with the almost impossibly beautiful cinematography and the sight of an 88-year-old man singing happy birthday to his dog, what stayed with the me the most in the days following the screening was the question of how a gnarled, muddy fungus comes to be so insanely valuable. What we’re usually told is that a) truffles are insanely good (something to do with umami and pheromones?) and b) they’re impossible to farm, difficult to gather and therefore rare and subsequently valuable. But who decides that?

In the documentary, the supplier buys truffles for €400-500 and sells them on to restaurants and private buyers for €4,000-5,000. Does he really need to do that to survive financially? The whole thing feels a bit exploitative. Food producers being fairly compensated for their produce is an issue which permeates all areas of food consumption from home cooking to fine dining and fast food. It was striking to me that even in the exorbitantly privileged world of truffle consumption, the communities responsible for the foundations of the industry still aren’t compensated proportionately for their labour.

In the mid-2000s, the New Nordic movement sought to challenge the then understanding of ‘good food’ as classical, labour-intensive French cooking instead offering simply prepared, fresh and local ingredients. Despite the influence of restaurants like Noma in Copenhagen (the birthplace of New Nordic cuisine and World’s Best Restaurant four years running), a couple of episodes of Chef’s Table is enough to remind you that a lot of fine dining in the last two decades is more about theatre and spectacle than it is about the food itself, let alone where it’s come from.

Hysterical Histories: Horrid Henry VI

October 2021 will mark the 550th anniversary of one of the most bizarre, yet relatively unknown, events in human history: the restoration of Henry VI upon the throne of England. Henry, it must be said, was a king of records. Unfortunately for him, as the son of the great Henry V – Shakespeare’s heroic warrior and victor at Agincourt – everyone expected the young king to follow in his father’s footsteps. The results were instead far from similar, and it became apparent that Henry was as fit for government as a fish is for the desert. Indeed, history will remember Henry VI as the sole monarch who got deposed twice. He did hold another record, that of being the only King of England to be crowned King of France, yet he succeeded in making that record redundant by losing France too!

Generations of historians have studied the failure of Henry VI’s reign. Some refer to him as an ‘imbecile’, an ‘inane’ king, or an ‘idiot’. In other words, a crowned cabbage could have done less damage to English society than Henry VI. Henry was severely ill and this reveals a lot about medieval government – the king’s frequent problems could in fact halt the entire administrative structure. The results were such that the kingdom was taken over by factionalism and the country slowly descended into the chaos we now call the Wars of the Roses. Far from being a simple Shakespearean clash between the Houses of York and Lancaster, the wars actually were the result of a real breakdown in central government.

It appears Henry inherited this illness from his maternal grandfather Charles VI of France. Contemporaries made fun of Charles, remarking that the king would bark like a dog or not move for fear of shattering, as he thought he was made of glass. The results of this genetic crossing of the Channel were, however, very profound. Henry’s inability to perform the essential functions of kingship meant that his government witnessed an isolation of England’s allies, pushing them into new alliances with the French. This ultimately led to the English defeat in the Hundred Years War by 1453. His hapless behaviour created a vacuum for powerful factions to compete and struggle, ultimately unleashing into the Wars of the Roses. In the process Henry would lose France once, whilst in England he was deposed, then reinstated, and then killed. As if the story was not already tragic enough, everyone in England knew that Henry was useless as King. The Milanese ambassador wrote that England would be ‘settled and quiet’ once Henry was removed, whilst a rebel manifesto argued that because of the king’s inaptitude ‘his merchandise is lost, his common people are destroyed, the sea is lost, France is lost’! My personal favourite was from a man accused of insulting the king in a small village in Sussex, who allegedly exclaimed that the ‘King is a natural fool’. Hysterically tragic, but true. 

Will Neill’s Real Deal: Tory Conference and the Politics of Inhumanity

Week one of Michaelmas term, and Freshers Flu has swept through Oxford like a tsunami. Hacking coughs, snotty noses, and cold sweats are currently in vogue. And after a week of bucking the trend, I have finally succumbed to the sickness; spending my weekend limping around Oxford, crawling through every Tesco for that rare pack of Lemsip. I have also enjoyed a bout of nonsensical fever dreams. But then again, even my psychedelic visions are nothing in comparison to the fantasy land that our Prime Minister is inhabiting: a Cloud Bojo Land. Britain is facing a gas crisis, a cost of living crisis, an unravelling Union, a struggling healthcare system, and a cut to universal credit that could send millions into poverty – this is a time of a self-inflicted national crisis on several fronts, yet our leader has a grin wider than the Cheshire Cat. 

The political highlight of the week was the Conservative Party Conference in Manchester: an Eyes Wide Shut-esque masquerade for the socially repressed. The conference was a four-day bonanza of half-empty auditoriums, dull panels, tired conference speeches, and endless soundbites. Get Brexit Done, Levelling Up Britain, Build Back Better, all repeated literally ad nauseam. When asked what ‘Levelling Up’ meant, the Secretary of State for Levelling Up Michael Gove stated that it was about allowing everyone to have ‘the best chance to choose their own future… own their own home… and live their best life’. Equally illuminating was Boris Johnson’s statement that Levelling Up meant ‘…offering hope and opportunity to those areas that have felt left behind’. I always thought you couldn’t build government policy around inspirational quotes from a teenager’s Tumblr account; the Conservatives have proved me wrong. 

Boris Johnson was front and centre at the conference, with the Tory leader’s keynote speech being the main event. Johnson’s speech was hyped up as the opportunity to finally sketch out the details of his plans to Build Back Better, to add some meat to the bones of his undercooked domestic policy. In reality, the speech operated more like a stand-up comedy show at Butlin’s. Boris made zany puns, shouting that Britain needed to ‘Build Back Burger’ and laughing at Michael Gove’s, or ‘Jon Bon Govi’s,’ night clubbing in Aberdeen. This was not a serious speech by a serious leader, but a sideshow distraction from the economic and social crises that are striking Britain. In an interview with the BBC, Johnson stated that he was ‘not worried’ about labour shortages, inflation, or the stresses on supply changes. This was all part of the ‘new economic model’ – whatever that means. Keir Starmer referred to Johnson as ‘trivial’ and a ‘showman’ in Brighton last week, the Prime Minister did everything in his power at the conference to prove Starmer right. 

What is unsurprising but still unnerving about Johnson’s speech was the number of blatant lies and falsities. Johnson claimed that the government had done ’sixty-eight free-trade deals’ when in reality almost all of these were existing rollover deals from within the EU. He claimed that ‘we have seen off the European Super League’, although this again had nothing to do with the EU. He similarly stated that ‘we are doing at least eight freeports’ despite the fact that Britain had freeports when it was an EU member. But why let the pesky truth get in the way? Most unbelievably, Johnson claimed that just as he ‘got Brexit done’, his government ‘…is going to get social care done’, as if solving the deep-rooted problems within our nation’s healthcare system was as easy as flipping a switch. Johnson has an eighty-seat majority and a ten-point lead in the polls, the Tories have not delivered and they don’t need to. Johnson promised to fix the ‘broken model’ of the past, without a hint of irony that this model was constructed by his own party.

Possibly the most shameless incident was Work and Pensions Secretary Therese Coffey being caught singing ‘I’ve Had The Time of My Life’ at the conference karaoke. Politicians are human beings, and of course are allowed to have fun. But on the early Wednesday morning as Coffey was boogieing, her Department had closed the £20 uplift on Universal Credit, making 5.8 million people £1000 worse off every year in a decision described as the ‘biggest overnight welfare cut since the Second World War’. Coffey’s decision to dance to such a jovial tune after making such a horrific cut might appear to be bad optics, but optics don’t matter anymore. This is a government that has the survival instincts of a cockroach in a nuclear apocalypse: COVID, austerity, Brexit — all great national crises that the Tories have not only seen off but come out electorally stronger

On July 64 AD, a fire spread in Rome which ultimately burnt down most of the city and left half of the residents homeless. Emperor Nero famously ‘fiddled while Rome burned’, playing calming music and ignoring the flames engulfing his city. Is this a pretentious anecdote? Yes. But the point is that right now we have a Prime Minister sticking his fingers in his ears and his tongue out his mouth, lollygagging as this country falls apart. This country is desperately lacking in leadership that is seriously prepared to respond to the growing crisis and not divert, dance and dither. ‘Crisis, what crisis’: the three words that Prime Minister Jim Callaghan was thought to have said, and served as the epitaph for the ruling Labour government. The Tories may be having the time of their lives, but their luck will run out eventually. 

Image credit: Cheffey via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 4.0).

‘I’ve read the secret, I know the meaning’: When rap and classical literature meet

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What do Charles Dickens, Alice in Wonderland and Kilburn-bred rapper M Huncho have in common? Quite a lot, as it happens. Two of the most popular rap songs of the last month, M Huncho and Unknown T’s ‘Wonderland’ and Arrdee’s ‘Oliver Twist’, feature famous works of classic literature as their titles and inspiration. It’s a fact that might surprise readers and listeners. Surely Lewis Carrol’s hallucinogenic Wonderland and Dickens’ Victorian slums are a world away from contemporary British rap?


But ‘Wonderland’ and ‘Oliver Twist’ cement a far stronger connection between literature and rap than either discipline has been given credit for. Cultural purists have always struggled with the idea that song lyrics can be considered literary forms equal to novels or poetry, as exemplified in the public outcry against Bob Dylan winning the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2016. What critics often fail to understand is that it is language at the heart of both of these art forms, the thing that connects and unites these two seemingly dissimilar practises.


The resistance to rap as an object of literary analysis from within the traditional cultural establishment is a difficult one to unpack. As well as a fear of non-established forms of literature, there is doubtless an element of racial and social prejudice that obstructs rap becoming as central to culture as it should be. The use of non-standard English in rap lyrics, as well as its reputation as a misogynistic and violent music genre, alienates the traditionally white world of literary criticism. If Dylan’s famous and traditionally ‘poetic’ language causes such a stir within traditional literary circles, what chance do the lyrics of an 18-year-old kid from Brighton have?


The fear of popular culture integrating into so-called ‘high culture’ is, of course, totally ironic, given that contemporary critics rarely have a good view of which books will endure in popularity and which will not. For example, Alice in Wonderland failed to be named in an 1888 poll of the publishing season’s most popular children’s stories, despite its popularity with adults and children alike. Similarly, the original Oliver Twist was not published by a prestige print house but, like most of Dickens’ novels, serialized in the popular magazine Bentley’s Miscellany from 1837 to 1839. Two books which had no place in higher literary circles of the period have become two of the most famous and popular books ever written, both with numerous important manifestations in contemporary culture of which Arrdee and M Huncho’s music are only recent additions. What these songs represent is the merging of popular culture and traditional culture that questions the very foundations of these arbitrary terms and encourages the validation of both as legitimate culture.


In a recent interview, Arrdee took on a giant of the culture establishment: Capital Xtra’s Classical Kyle. The classical saxophonist has interviewed some of the biggest rappers for Capital Xtra’s Youtube series, but the look of pure joy on his face as the name of Ardee’s single is revealed to him—”Dickensian!”- is unparalleled. “That’s the whole concept of the song”, Ardee replies coolly. Although Classical Kyle appreciates the classical violin that echoes through the song, the language gap between the two musicians makes for embarrassing viewing. “I don’t think that Charles Dickens used the words ‘take the piss’” he tells Ardee primly, before quizzing him on the meaning of lyrics such as “thot” and “Adeola”. Is this interaction between popular culture and traditional culture a step in the right direction, or does it simply illustrate the impenetrable gap between them?


Unlike Classical Kyle, I think that ‘Oliver Twist’ is a masterful lyrical adaptation of Dickens’ original. The whispered “gimme some more” refrain that seems to haunt the song like a ghostly Miss Havisham along with the strains of the classical violin echo not only Dickens’ book but also Carol Reed’s 1968 musical adaptation and its subsequent stage production in a way that cleverly fits the song into a long line of successful Dickensian adaptations. Ardee clearly sees himself as a modern-day Oliver Twist, having “taken risks to get to this sitch”, weaving Dickens into the classic rap narrative of ‘nothing to everything’. However, it’s also a universal theme that has captured the attention of readers, viewers and listeners for centuries, as Ardee notes in his classical Kyle interview: “We always want more- us as humans, we all want more”. If Dickens’ Oliver Twist is a story of wanting the bare minimum—food, a home, a family—Ardee won’t stop there. “You want more you don’t get their pleading, bruv, fight for your cause kicking and screaming” he tells listeners. How would Dickens’ original have been different if Oliver Twist had kicked and screamed, instead of pleaded? This is an Oliver Twist reimagined as a tale of anger and resistance.


Ardee and Dickens’s concern with poverty and social justice links book and song together even more closely. Dickens would famously walk the streets of London’s East End for hours, observing the extremes of Victorian poverty and spinning some of his greatest characters out of it. Oliver Twist is one of his most politically damning novels, exploring the vicious cycle of poverty through Oliver’s tragic narrative and also that of Nancy, forced into a life of prostitution and domestic abuse. Ardee restages this exploration of poverty in his native Brighton: “Cos I come from the shore, but the poor part, all you see is crackheads fiendin”. For those who think Brighton is all vintage shops and pebble beaches, Ardee reveals its seedy underworld in a way parallel to Dickens. It’s a theme that preoccupies much of his music, including his other major single 6am in Brighton. Just like how Dickens’ Oliver Twist is an irrevocably London tale, Ardee places an ungentrified Brighton at the heart of his music, using it to explore themes of poverty and drug addiction that perhaps exemplify how little society has changed since Dickens’ era.


As well as adapting Dickens’ themes for his own purposes, Ardee’s ‘Oliver Twist’ shows a real interest in literacy as a concept central to rap. “I’ve read the secret/ I know the meaning” he claims in the song’s lyrics, exerting a power over language that is key to his success. What is the ‘secret’ he has read? Is it Dickens’ Oliver Twist, which he has understood in ways that other readers can’t? Or is it something else? The line seems to recall Saussure’s system of semiotics, in which the sign is divided into the signifier (‘sound-image’) and the signified (‘concept’). Ardee has seen the sound-image and grasped the concept in a manner out of reach to those around him. This self-conscious literariness is even more evident in M Huncho and Unknown T’s ‘Wonderland’. Rather than referring to Lewis Carrol’s classic directly (although its heady, hallucinogenic atmosphere does recall the book itself), the song is centred around the independent magazine Wonderland in which M Huncho was a cover star in 2021. Journalism, classical literature and popular music thus converge in an explosion of language.


The song is not just a reference to M Huncho’s presence in established literary culture, however, but a deeply ironic satire of standard and nonstandard language. The song’s refrain—”I took some pics for a magazine, Wonderland/With an extended clip in the magazine” – plays on the meaning of ‘magazine’, a slang term for a container used for holding rounds of ammunition. High culture is juxtaposed with the violent, messy reality of the streets. It’s an in-joke that runs not only throughout the song but also in Suave’s music video, which switches trippily between gothic dining rooms, magical woodland spaces and west London driveways, blending fairy-tale and reality together. Similarly, the lyrics play on Carrol’s cultural symbolism: “How can I trip ’bout a bitch that I never had?/She must think I’m living in Wonderland”. Just as Carrol’s Wonderland is an alternate reality where the unexpected always happens, the song establishes a ‘wonderland’ where its singers are in love, as opposed to the commitment-phobic and violent world that they actually inhabit. It’s a masterful inversion of Alice in Wonderland’s traditional connotations, once again demonstrating how classical literature can permeate popular culture in unexpected and innovative ways.


If acolytes of ‘high culture’ and traditional literary criticism are prepared to broaden their horizons to popular culture, then rap is a genre that can enrich our understanding of classic literature and language itself. Through its literary self-consciousness and reinvention of established themes, songs like ‘Oliver Twist’ and ‘Wonderland’ bring Dickens and Carrol’s works firmly into the 21st century and ensure the endurance of their literary legacies in a myriad of unexpected ways.

Image Credit: Aleksandra Pluta.

Behind the Screens: Power, Sex, and the Male Gaze in Cinematography

Content warning: rape and sexual assault, violence and death

Unlike life, when we watch a film, we have no choice in how we view it. A film’s camerawork makes that decision for us and shows us only the things it wants us to see – this idea is fundamental to any film with a mystery aspect. In this way, the camera is used much like tenses in literature; its manipulation is a way to connect readers to a story and characters and to withhold information for the sake of a plot. What makes the camera truly important, however, is the way in which it influences an audience’s perception of an event by presenting it in different ways. Finding out how precisely we, the audience, are being manipulated can help us understand a film more deeply, in particular the biases it may possess.

First, let’s look at how the camera portrays the interaction between Beth and Allston in episode six of The Queen’s Gambit; in it, we can follow their argument’s dynamic by simply observing how the camera moves. The camera starts still on both Beth and Allston. As Allston becomes more involved and emotional in the debate, the camera zooms into him, to heighten the agitation and focus on his every twitch and gulp. The camera on Beth, who remains calm, remains still to reflect this. Then as Beth becomes annoyed, the camera starts to move down on her and up on Allston. Thus, emotionally and literally (with the camera), Beth appears to look down upon Allston, and he is therefore framed as weak to the audience. It seems without any dialogue, a viewer understands the scene by the camera’s movements alone, and all together, a viewer feels and lives the argument far more vividly.

Cinematography can transform the audience’s relationship with a character, especially if it helps immerse into their narrative and experience. 1917 was famously shot to look like one long take (it wasn’t actually filmed in ‘one-shot’ of course, and it’s a fun exercise to spot where exactly they hid the cuts). The relentless camera gives the audience no moment to relax, just like soldier Will who the camera follows. There is no respite from the tension created, no ability to escape the character’s struggles and battles with the harsh reality of World War 1, which both wears the audience out and attaches them more solidly to Will and his life. His goal becomes the entire movie. Through perspective, the camera forces a very literal simulation of walking in someone else’s shoes.

In Jojo Rabbit, when Jojo discovers his mother has been hanged, the camera never leaves Jojo’s eye line. Instead of making the scene grotesque and shocking by showing the body, audiences are forced to see it from Jojo’s perspective – innocent and devasted at the loss of his mother. We focus on the reaction of Jojo and his attempt (and failure) at tying his mother’s shoelaces, a metaphor for taking responsibility and his maturation. Presenting death through the reaction of a loved one forces audiences to go through their pain and experience.

As the camera decides how the audience is to feel about certain events and characters, it is certainly not a neutral agent. It will have biases. For example, an audience’s reaction to a sex scene can change drastically depending on whether they view it from inside the action, outside or even outside the room – the first often encourages arousal, and the latter often makes the scene uncomfortable, as the camera forces audiences to become a voyeur. On paper, a sex scene is a sex scene, but they have the potential to be portrayed in very different ways and to different effects. Then, we can think about how a film represents a rape scene. Does it film it in the same way as an arousing sex scene or as an act of violence? If so, what does that indicate regarding the film’s view on rape? You would be surprised at the number of rape scenes during which the camera focuses on the pleasure and power of the perpetrator, rather than the violence as felt by the victim. This has led some to say that if we cannot extract sexualisation from the camerawork then rape shouldn’t be portrayed on screen at all. There is a social responsibility even the subtlest of choices from the camera, and these connotations matter in the wider world.

We often hear of the idea of the male gaze being thrown about conversations, but it actually originates from feminist film theorist Laura Mulvey. She explores the ways in which film and the camera portrays women and how pervasive this portrayal is in our society. If we think of the classic ‘hot woman’ shot sequence used time and time again – the camera pans up from her feet, taking in her body before finally landing on her face – it immediately presents women as an object of sexual desire, and something to be considered as, above all else, sexy. As the camera determines the perspective of the audience as well, the audience also participates in her objectification. These are the sorts of implicit influences our media asserts, and it makes us think about how other groups of people are portrayed. Indeed, the camera isn’t a neutral agent because the world it films and the people who film it aren’t either. It adds human emotion and pain, but it also adds the biases and problems that come with society.

Next time you watch a film, you should ask yourself – who does the camera afford power, who does the camera create sympathy for, and who is made into an object of somebody else’s story?

LGBTQ+ ‘Glitterball’ releases tickets

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Glitterball, Oxford’s ball specifically for the LGBTQ+ Community and Allies, will be releasing general tickets on Monday, October 11th. Hosted in partnership with Oxford University (OU) and Oxford Brookes University (OBU) LGBTQ+ Societies, it wants to “create a space and event where people can fully embrace and celebrate their identity without fearing hate or judgement” and help spread the message that people’s sexual or gender identity should not be up for debate.

The ball was initially going to take place in November but has been postponed to Friday, January 21s due to Oxford’s rising COVID 19 cases. The organisers think it “unlikely” that the event will be further rescheduled. 

The general ticket release will take place on Monday next week. Early Bird Tickets have already been released for members of OU and OBU LGBTQ+ Societies, with a limited number of half-price tickets given out on a trust basis. 

Despite the name, there will not be much actual glitter at the ball, as loose glitter is forbidden by Town Hall Policy. According to co-presidents Gwendy and Yannis, the ball will have a wide range of music genres, with acts and artists being individuals who identify as being part of the community. Staff will be trained to be LGBTQ+ inclusive, and partnered organisations will be LGBTQ+ friendly.

The organisers think it is important that the LGBTQ+ Community have their own ball. They said: “Unfortunately, the LGBTQ+ Community is still regularly victim to marginalisation, discrimination and hate crime. With our event, we want individuals to have a ball experience where they can fully be themselves, without worrying for their safety. It also means we can support LGBTQ+ artists and show the incredible talent and creativity from within our Community.”

Yet there are also forms of discrimination within the community. Gwendy and Yannis said: “We are aware of the reality that LGBTQ+ Events are often dominated by gay men that are white, able-bodied and ‘out’. We know that this is not a just representation of the Community, which is incredibly diverse.” Measures to make the event more inclusive will include reduced-price tickets, trying to meet disability requirements and no-photo lanyards for people who are not ‘out’ yet. The organisers did not mention anti-racism training but want to work with Minority Group Societies in spreading awareness for the event.

To make the event more sustainable, the organisers are offering plant-based food only, factoring in travel distances when booking acts and providing recycling stations at the venue.

Don’t Look Back in Anger: The Rise and Fall of Britpop

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The 1990s saw the emergence of Britpop, formed as a reaction against the grunge music scene in the United States. Grunge was very popular at the time, but many British musicians felt that they could not relate to these songs and so began to produce their own music. These songs hugely contrasted with the dark, depressing songs produced by American grunge artists such as Nirvana and Pearl Jam, and were generally more upbeat, optimistic and catchy. Damon Albarn of Blur said in a 1993 interview that: “If punk was about getting rid of hippies, then I’m getting rid of grunge!”. Britpop represented a rebellion against the United States and musical norms of the time.

Britpop wasn’t defined by a specific musical style, but the music tended towards lighter sounds than grunge and included more melodic hooks and choruses. It built on the guitar-based British pop music created by classic 1960s bands such as The Beatles and The Kinks. All Britpop artists seemed to manifest a sense of admiration for the sounds of the past, from the psychedelic Pink Floyd-like sounds heard in much of Blur to the disco influenced pop-rock sounds heard in some of Pulp’s work – like 1995’s Different Class. The glam and punk rock sounds of the 1970s are emulated in lots of the biggest Britpop hits, as well as sounds of the 1980s indie scene – particularly that of The Smiths. Britpop records can be seen as a blend of many subgenres of pop and rock, but most importantly includes features of the Madchester genre, which merged indie music with features of 60s pop and psychedelia, and shoegaze, a subgenre of indie rock distinguished by its ethereal sound created by the use of distortion, feedback and obscured vocals. These were both very popular in the late 80s and early 90s.

Lyrics written by Britpop bands were made to be relevant to young people in Britain, and the songs released during this movement embraced and emphasised ‘Britishness’. Britpop sparked a period of greater pride in the culture of the United Kingdom, in a cultural movement known as Cool Britannia. The success of these British bands contributed to an increased feeling of optimism in the United Kingdom. D:Ream’s single ‘Things Can Only Get Better’ became The Labour Party’s song, and they began working towards a ‘rebranding of Britain’. There was much more patriotism seen, for example Liam Gallagher’s Union Jack guitar and Geri Halliwell’s Union Jack dress at the 1997 Brit Awards. Even the US magazine Vanity Fair published a special edition on Cool Britannia, focusing in on London particularly, headlined ‘London Swings! Again!’. British music dominated during this period, and the praise which many Britpop artists received proved that ordinary working-class people could achieve huge success.

The Britpop movement was dominated by the ‘Big Four’, which consisted of Oasis, Blur, Suede and Pulp. Suede was one of the first Britpop bands to receive major attention from the media, with their self-titled debut in 1993 winning the Mercury Music Prize. Their sound is a concoction of both glam rock and punk, and has been compared to the early music of David Bowie. The record was unlike most music heard at the time, and the success of the release marked the beginning of the Britpop period.

The Britpop era peaked in 1994-95, with Oasis and Blur competing in what was known as the ‘Battle of Britpop’. In 1994, Blur released their third album Parklife, which made them Britain’s most popular band for a period of time. Oasis then released Definitely Maybe, which received critical acclaim and became the fastest selling album in the United Kingdom. There was a constant fight in the charts between the two bands, and this culminated in 1995 when Albarn deliberately changed the release date of Blur’s latest single to coincide with Oasis’ single release. The feud was referred to as the ‘British Heavyweight Championship’ by the NME, and ultimately Blur won. ‘Country House’ outsold ‘Roll With It’ by a big margin. The media coverage of the struggle between the two bands was extensive and helped to popularise the genre even further.

In the long run, Oasis achieved greater success, and it was the release of (What’s the Story) Morning Glory which catapulted Oasis to worldwide fame. It became one of the best-selling albums in British history – Oasis’ popularity was huge. This album beat Blur’s The Great Escape and Pulp’s Different Class to win the Best British Album award at the Brit Awards. Later in 1996, Oasis made history again when they played a two-night set at Knebworth, which 2.6 million people applied for tickets to. This demand was the largest ever for a concert in Britain. Following this, the charts were inundated with hits produced by Britpop bands until 1997, when the movement began to decline rapidly.

As many of the bands associated with the Britpop movement either lost popularity or broke up,  other British bands appeared on the scene, in what was known as the post-Britpop indie movement. Oasis’ third album ‘Be Here Now’ (1997) was criticised by music critics and fans alike, while Blur began to drift away from their classic Britpop sound. They adopted a calmer style and began to sound more like an American rock band. I suppose everything must come to an end – by 1997, the Britpop trend had passed. Bands such as Travis, Stereophonics and Coldplay offered softer sounds which became popular instead, and lots of these groups achieved wider commercial success than the Britpop groups ever had. Alongside this, pop groups like the Spice Girls became popular and helped to push Britpop out of the public eye. The decline of Britpop also meant that bands which had previously been overlooked became more appreciated. Blur’s experimentalism and Oasis’ disappointing album meant that lesser-known artists at the time could step into the limelight. Most notably, Radiohead’s ‘OK Computer’ and The Verve’s ‘Urban Hymns’ received the attention they deserved, and their music was met with great praise.

Although the Britpop phenomenon was short lived, a huge number of classic songs were produced by some brilliant bands. It was a fleeting movement, but it completely changed the face of UK music and continues to inspire up-and-coming artists today.

Image Credit: Wes Candela/CC BY-NC-ND 4.0

Bodleian celebrates 400 Years of the Oxford Botanical Garden

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2021 marks the 400th anniversary of the Oxford Botanical gardens. Over the summer, the gardens hosted an anniversary event during which the University’s Chancellor planted a handkerchief tree and the Botanic Garden Director revealed a new hybrid rose. 

Anniversary celebrations are continuing throughout the 24th of October in the form of an exhibition entitled ‘Roots to Seeds’. The exhibition is on display in the Bodleian’s Weston Library. The exhibition “charts the story of Oxford botany as an ever-changing organism, from its early roots as physic garden in the seventeenth century to the collaborative research of today.”

The Garden was founded in 1621 after Henry Danvers, the 1st Earl of Danby, donated the equivalent of 5 million pounds to the university. It was originally called the ‘Physic garden’ after its goal of cultivating and investigating medical herbs. Today the Botanic Garden and Harcourt Arboretum cultivate around 5000 different plants used in research, teaching, conservation, and engaging with the public.

The site of the garden was originally a floodplain of the river Cherwell so builders spent twenty years terraforming it. In 1632, an Architect aptly named Nicholas Stone began to design an ornate gateway to the walled garden. At the time, most of the architecture in Oxford was of the simplistic and safe Palladian style. Nicholas made the bold choice of building in the Baroque style.

It is partially thanks to Nicholas why we have so much interesting and diverse architecture in Oxford. Another example of Stone’s work is the University church of St Mary the Virgin’s entrance with its spiraling pillars.

The walled garden was used to grow medicinally useful plants such as foxglove for cardiology, and poppies as a potent source of morphine. Over the years this focus shifted to experimental botany and taxonomy as plants with more diverse appeal were imported from all over the world. Henceforth, the garden was renamed in the 1830s to the Oxford Botanical Garden.

During the 19th century, many glasshouses were constructed to store exotic plants not suited to the English climate. These include a Fernery, a tropical lily pond and even a house of carnivorous plants.

The outer walled area viewable from Christ Church Meadow was created in 1946 and makes up the largest section of the garden at over 950m2 . This has allowed 20th century botanists to break from tradition and design beds with unconventional plants.

The mathematics professor Lewis Carroll regularly visited the garden during the 1860s and it inspired many locations of his Alice in Wonderland stories. In fact, the illustrations in the original books include homages: The Water lily glasshouse is visible in the background of The Queen of Hearts’ croquet lawn.

J. R. R. Tolkien also spent a lot of time in the garden. He sat for hours under his favourite Pinas nigra tree which served as inspiration for his tree creatures in The Lord of the Rings. In the summer of 2019, a statue was built in the garden to honor the work of novelist Philip Pullman. His dark materials trilogy characters have a meeting on a bench which has become a pilgrimage site for fans.The anniversary events will culminate next summer with a recreation of the original founding ceremony followed by a garden party and a concert by the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment.

Image: Tony Ord/CC BY-SA 2.5 via Wikimedia Commons

Traditions

Bop

A bop is a ‘Big Open Party’, a fancy dress party organised by your JCR for your college. Bops normally happen 2 or 3 times a term. Some themes are more conventional (Halloween, Christmas, the 60s, etc.), whilst others are a bit more… out there (like Boulangerie vs Lingerie). Some people will disregard the theme entirely, but others will go all out. As such, it’s almost impossible to be under or overdressed! But don’t worry about breaking the bank for an outfit – part of the charm of bops are the haphazardly DIYed costumes.

Bops often take place in college bars, but sometimes colleges will hire out the smaller clubs in the city. Occasionally, colleges will hold bops together, and all these contribute to the minimal entry fee, making bops both fun and a cheap night out.

Balls

Balls are one of the most famous Oxford events and an excuse to live out your fairytale dreams. Balls usually last from the evening into the small hours of the morning, with live music, different food stalls, and sometimes different activities.

Most colleges hold balls biannually in Trinity, but some societies hold them throughout the year: examples include the annual RAG Ball. There are also the more prestigious Commemoration balls (usually every three years), which can be in the region of £200 for a ticket. Whilst balls can be expensive, many colleges now have discounts for students from lower-income backgrounds.

Most balls are black tie: either a nice suit with a bowtie or long dresses will be appropriate. Fancier balls, like Commemoration balls, can be white tie, which means a black tailcoat, white waistcoat, and a white bow tie or fancier evening gowns. Most people will rent a suit or dress for a white tie event, so you don’t need to break the bank for an outfit you’ll wear once!

Formal Hall

Formal Hall is essentially a three-course meal taking place in your college’s fancy hall. Most formals begin with students standing up and remaining silent whilst Latin grace is said. The formal is a sit down, served meal.

Almost every college requires students to wear sub fusc at formals, but some colleges will let you wear casual clothes underneath. It definitely depends on college, so it’s worth asking around! Sometimes, colleges will have themed formals, and often these are an occasion to dress up a bit more.

It’s worth going around colleges and seeing what they have to offer at formals; every college has its own experience and trying these out can be fun! You can ask a friend to invite you, or buy a ticket for Formal Hall Surfing from Oxford Raise and Give, where your money goes to a good cause.

Matriculation

Matriculation is the first ‘proper’ Oxford event you will go to. Held on the Saturday of 1st Week, this event officially enrols you as a student at the University of Oxford.

Normally, everyone will be dressed in full sub fusc, and your college will take a group photo for everyone matriculating that year. You will all head to the Sheldonian Theatre on Broad Street, where you’ll hear a short speech in Latin. Don’t worry — you don’t need to understand this! Afterwards, your college will probably organise an event for you all to get together and celebrate.

Trashing

Trashing occurs to celebrate the end of exams. You’ve worked hard all year, have sat through gruelling papers, and are leaving Exam Schools (or your laptop) for the final time. Next on the list? To get covered in shaving cream, glitter, prosecco, confetti, and whatever your friends will throw at you!

Although trashing is technically banned, many students still find a way to do it. One of the biggest concerns regarding trashing is its environmental impact. To counter this, many colleges sell Eco-Trash trashing kits, and students are encouraged to clean up the mess made.

Image credit: Sheng P. via Flickr (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0).