Tuesday, April 29, 2025
Blog Page 429

Notes on Improvisation

0

Improvisation is a strange topic to think about. On the surface, it seems to be fairly simple: know the chord progression to follow, choose notes from the chord and construct an appropriate melody. Add in fast scales and difficult harmonies if you’re feeling up to the task; if you want to round it all off, make the improvisation memorable and fitting with the rest of the performance. While complex, this approach seems methodical – methodical enough that any worthy musician should be able to take it on. But this isn’t the case. Improvisation is a completely different beast to playing composed music, one that relies on creativity, raw talent, communication with both the band and the audience, and unparalleled skill with the instrument. Through improvisation, some of the greatest works of music have been born.

Jazz is the medium that comes to mind when the word improvisation is thrown about, and rightly so. Performing a great solo is one of the cornerstones of the genre and is one of the mountains that must be climbed to become a master. Moreover, jazz improvisation stands out from improvisation in other genres like classical and folk in the sheer complexity of the medium, especially in terms of harmony. The style grew with the genre itself. With the dawn of the swing era, it was simply variations on main melodies – a nod to the influence of classical music. Bebop introduced more complex chord progressions, and by the time of the pinnacle of jazz in the 50s and 60s, soloists were improvising over extended chords, tritone substitutions, rapid modulation, modal harmony, helmed by the likes of Charlie Parker and Miles Davis. If you’re looking for an introduction into this era, Davis’ Kind of Blue, widely considered as his masterpiece and one of the greatest jazz albums of all time, is an excellent starting point.

Improvisation was surprisingly also prevalent in classical music. Even as far back as the medieval and renaissance eras, the ability to play a melody instantly over a background harmony was essential for all aspiring musicians. Many baroque concertos had the soloist improvise virtuosic melodies on the spot from a set of chords. And while this is not true improvisation, Musikalisches Würfelspiel is an 18th– and 19th-century concept where each side of a die is assigned to a short passage of music – roll the dice and piece together a new melody every time. Not exactly John Coltrane but interesting, nevertheless. 

Despite this last example being a bit feeble, the idea of aleatory, or chance, music has led to some landmark works. If you haven’t heard In C by Terry Riley, I’d recommend you stop reading this and go listen to a performance immediately. Or multiple. Or perform your own (https://teropa.info/in-c/). The piece sounds very different every time it’s performed: Brian Eno said the score is ‘more like a packet of seeds, and every time those seeds are opened, something new and unique grows”. The idea of this 1962 piece revolves around a sheet which details 53 short separated musical phrases; you must play them in order, but you can repeat the phrases as many times as you wish and move on to the next phrase as you wish. Every musician does this independently, creating a hypnotic mosaic of sound, all joining in harmony but clashing and syncopating in rhythm and texture. Instruments are not specified, meaning that many versions – from 120-piece orchestras to electronic instruments to traditional instruments from around the world – have been played. In many performances, it is standard for the piano to hold a constant pulse of Cs throughout the piece – an idea given to Riley than none other than Steve Reich, another minimalist composer whose work was incredibly innovative in its day.  

But while a fascinating and revolutionary side piece into modern art music that deserves much more focus, I doubt it can be considered to be true improvisation. Arguments can be made for and against whether the individuality and creativity of the musicians shine through, and if it allows musical expression. I believe this to be the crux of the issue: improvisation is the expression of the artist, calling forth the talent, imagination and virtuosity to make a unique piece. This is why jazz became the mainstay for this method – the genre is focused on the artist and their originality. And this is why classical music didn’t have a true improvised piece for the first half of the last century; pieces that do have this technique might not be able to be considered classical music (a notoriously difficult genre to define). 

In the contemporary age, where music is a free-for-all and every artist and composer is set apart from the rest, improvisation still holds an important place. As to be expected, it is essential in the new waves of jazz, but also is becoming more prevalent in rock, electronic, classical and film. Improvisation has been relevant in our society for hundreds if not thousands of years and will always be a route of artistic expression. I know that many people are excited about where this route can take us. 

‘Rhodes, You’re Next’ banner put up opposite Oriel College

0

A banner stating ‘Rhodes, You’re Next’ has been put up on University Church, opposite the statue of Cecil Rhodes, following the pulling down of a statue of Edward Colston in Bristol on Sunday.

The statue of Rhodes, an imperialist in the 19th century who annexed much of southern Africa and restricted the rights of black Africans, has been the subject of much controversy.

In 2016, Oriel College stated it would not take down the statue, citing “widespread support” for the statue, despite the #RhodesMustFall campaign by students. The decision was made after threats from alumnae to withdraw about £100m in gifts if the statue were taken down.

Edward Colston was a slave trader in the 17th and 18th century, who is believed to have transported over 80 000 people from West Africa. Demonstrators at the Black Lives Matter protest today pulled the statue down and threw it into Bristol Harbour.

The Oxford #RhodesMustFall campaign has recently been restarted, with a new video published on the Facebook by students and alumni against anti-Blackness. 600 people have signed a Rhodes Must Fall Oxford petition over the course of Sunday night, which has since been closed. A new petition was set up on Monday morning.

Image credit to Dr. Jack Doyle

Stop Hiding, Oxford: why the university should not have delayed its access report

0

In a ridiculous but not unsurprising turn of events, Oxford University has delayed its annual access report.

The reasoning for delaying the report was given in a university statement: 

“In fact, some headline admissions figures have already been published, in January this year, and revealed that the University is now attracting more ethnic minority students, including Black students, than ever. Having already shared this core information, it felt deeply inappropriate to publish content that could distract from the important challenges and debate facing our society at this time and try to draw attention to our own progress on the figures. The report will therefore appear later this month.”

The tone of their statement is very much ‘we’ve done enough, we showed you that we have ‘more ethnic minority students than ever’ – what else do you want?’ The university is foolish to make this decision. It is inappropriate to use the Black Lives Matter movement and current debates around racism as reasoning to not release access data. Oxford is not being intersectional here; yes, the access report would also give information unrelated to race: class, gender, disability. But this information is all related. It would not distract from the current conversation, but it would give more information with which to analyse the university’s response to racism. Of course the university is halting their report; why would they want to give their critics more reason to criticise?  

The interconnected nature of inequality across Oxford is magnified by their failure here to support their students. It is systematic. I would equally not be surprised if the university has delayed their report because they want it to be the main news item in the week it is published. Look at us, we can imagine university officials saying, Look how good we are doing, weeks after failing their Black students who they are so vocal about when it suits the university. Where was the energy of your January press release: ‘More Black British students than ever choosing Oxford’, which was thrusted towards the media, when you were tweeting about Black Lives Matter? 

When I went to find the tweet to embed it here, the following notification appeared: 

Oxford are hiding responses to their racism statement on Twitter. All this university seems to do is hide. In attempting to hide, Oxford is only making its prejudice, inequality and privilege more visible. 

So, why the sudden turn around, Oxford? You know as well as we do that the report is ready, as emails earlier this week show. The sudden decision to halt its publication is embarrassing. We need to see the data now more than ever. If Oxford is going to continue letting their students down – and right now, Oxford is letting down its black students the most, of course – they should be transparent in the fact that they have failed. 

Because a failure to meet access targets could surely be a reason for delaying the report too?

Whilst this is all purely speculation, it makes no sense at all to not publish the report right now. The decision is in the same vein as the UK Government’s decision to delay their BAME + Covid-19 review. Unsurprisingly, when the Public Health England review was finally published it revealed that ‘People of Bangladeshi heritage in England are twice as likely to die if they contract the virus than white people,’ and that ‘other BAME groups face an increased risk of up to 50%.’ The report was initially delayed out of fears it could stoke already present ‘racial tensions’. Is this the same reasoning behind Oxford’s decision to delay their access report? What are they hiding? Earlier this year Oxford were vocal in releasing their BAME specific access data: The 2019 intake of students from Black and Minority Ethnic (BAME) backgrounds was more than 22%, with 560 students overall. The university’s decision to delay their report is confusing. To put it bluntly, I just don’t get it. 

Oxford needs to put its money where its mouth is. And that’s a lot of money and an even bigger mouth. But the mouthpiece is only used when Oxford decides they’ve done something good; press releases will be sent out for the smallest measures of progress, but Oxford’s Twitter account will stay firmly vanilla and bland when confronted with racism – both worldwide and within its own community. If Oxford wish to centre themselves as a worldwide leader for education, they must be actively anti-racist. This isn’t a radical comment at all. To be anti-racist is the least Oxford – an institution built on white privilege and colonialism – could do. But they are yet to do this. And it’s embarrassing. Oxford is an overwhelmingly racist university: 

To release their access report right now would have shown that Oxford University was at least willing to confront its access and inequality problems. It could have been a step forward. They could have taken some responsibility. But instead they’re hiding. 

As last term’s editor of Cherwell, we often asked the university for certain statistics and information. We wanted more information related to their BAME data. They chose to only release BAME data in January when they will have already compiled all their access data. Why? Who knows. We were always told we would have to wait for the access report to be published in full. At the time, this felt like a bit of a cop out. A way for the university to deflect important, and timely, information to the end of Trinity term. And here we are: it is Trinity term, the access report should have been published this week…and now it hasn’t been.

It is important to remember too, that the access report is a fairly new thing for the university. The commitment to releasing the data began in 2018. It hasn’t been broken, but it has been bent to suit the university. No surprises there. 

The email, leaked to the HuffPost, stated: “After careful consideration of the current world events and also learning that Cambridge will not be publishing its admissions data until late June, the decision to postpone the release of the annual admissions statistical report has been taken.”

To add to the ridiculousness of the situation, Oxford holds up Cambridge as a further reason for the delay. Why delay in line with Cambridge? A cynic may be led to believe that Oxford is hoping that Cambridge’s access data was worse than theirs for the last admissions round…and therefore Oxford can deflect (again) any responsibility. ‘But look! Cambridge is worse!’ This is entirely speculation at this point too. Again, it makes no sense. 


There are no firm conclusions to be made here, other than to state again that the university is letting us all down. Oxford has proved, again, that it will shy away from responsibility. We don’t get an access report right now, but what we do get is: a short, uncontroversial statement and a university that doesn’t support its Black students. Added to that, we have a ridiculous collegiate system that is supporting racist structures in the university, as shown this week with Christ Church’s inability to support one of their own students being racially abused. Stop hiding, Oxford – we can see through you anyway.

Comfort Films: The Secret Garden

0

It is fascinating to me that nostalgia, coined in the 17th century, was originally treated as a physical disease. Nostalgia was used to describe the condition of Swiss Mercenaries who, in the plains of lowland France or Italy, were pining for their native mountain landscapes. Military physicians hypothesised that the malady was due to damage to the victims’ brain cells and ear drums by the constant clanging of cowbells in the pastures of Switzerland. I feel that there is no greater comfort than home and the wave of nostalgia which floods over me whenever I watch my favourite childhood film, Agnieszka Holland’s The Secret Garden, is medicinal, not melancholic. Whenever I hear Zbigniew Preisner’s mellifluous ‘Awakening of Spring’, I am transported back to the warm glow of my grandparents’ sitting room, huddled around the crackling recorded tape: these are my cowbells, my home pastures. 

When I was seven, my mum caught me making a bolt for the front door after lights out, armed with a wheelie bag and sunhat – I’d had enough and was setting off for India apparently. Sadly, I never quite made it over the threshold, but I’m convinced that my grandiose ideas of adventure were inspired by my early viewing (as was my sudden desperation to own a beret). I was utterly mesmerised by that opening scene: the majesty of the Taj Mahal rippling like a mirage in the heat of the amber desert; the festooned elephants and the eddying movement of shimmering dancers. But the film, quite cleverly, provides a glimpse into the dark underbelly which lurks below the opulence of the British Raj: spoilt Mary Lennox waits sourly to be dressed by her Indian ayahs whilst her parents curry favour with the maharaja. What follows is one of Holland’s most shrewd adaptations of Burnett’s novel: a devastating earthquake replaces the original cholera plot. Mary’s childhood home is obliterated in a horrifying cacophony of elephants’ trumpeting and the screams of the entourage. It has an intensity which the 1987 adaptation, in its loyalty to the original plot of the pandemic, just doesn’t quite manage. “Doesn’t sound particularly comforting”, you might muse, and, it’s true, much of the film felt unsettling, dramatising the childhood nightmare of the world crashing around you. In fact, one of my recurring childhood nightmares was a direct imitation of one of Mary’s in which, after her parents’ deaths, she dreams of her mother reaching towards her in the garden before running away. But I think much of the comfort of the film derives from the redemption and recovery plot, that the very discomfort of Mary’s childhood tragedy is healed by the flourishing of the garden and the relationships she cultivates there. 

In spite of her brattish petulance and surly glare, I think there is something universally appealing and comforting to a child about ‘contrary Mary.’ Regardless of how cherished one is, I think that all children nurse a strange but persistent complex of feeling somehow neglected or overlooked and the figure of the forsaken child, even the orphan, speaks to the child psyche. Every time I watched my parents don their glad rags as they managed to get away for a much-deserved childfree evening, I distinctly remember dramatically imagining myself as Mary, watching as her glamorous mother strings her neck in pearls and her father straightens his mess dress. It is, after all, the reason why so many children fall in love with Harry Potter, Annie and Oliver Twist: these are the children who must learn to define their own fate, to fashion their own identity. I remember the agony of watching Mary, submitted to the derision of the other children upon docking in Liverpool, left to watch as the others are greeted with the warm embrace of their relatives whilst Maggie Smith’s Mrs Medlock observes that she has not inherited much of her mother’s beauty. There was something shocking too about Mary’s rages and hostility – I always remember making a concerted effort to be extra agreeable after a viewing. But Mary who ‘doesn’t know how to cry’ finds her icy heart melted by the warmth of Dicken and Martha and by receiving a dose of her own medicine from the sickly Colin, they learn and grow together. By unearthing long buried pains, she rediscovers her roots and heals broken ties, finds hope and vitality where all seemed barren. The final scene where Mary and Colin are reunited with Mr Craven after a game of blind man’s bluff and when Colin walks for the first time in the garden are breathtakingly beautiful. 

Misselthwaite Manor, which Mary rattles around, is eerie and shadowy – entirely comfortless – but the howling winds and dramatic landscape always fill with me with the nostalgic comfort of my own childhood holidays spent in Yorkshire. Whenever I watch The Secret Garden, I feel a deep empathy with the hankering of Swiss Mercenaries as I am washed over with reminisces of rugged moors and lush dales. There is nothing more rejuvenating to me than watching Mary rip open Colin’s bedroom window and allowing it to be flooded with light or unlock the garden, allowing it to bloom as it once did. In my most recent viewing, I felt especially wistful watching the jettisoning of the face masks once worn in the presence of Colin (a prophecy for a corona-free future I hope!). 

A new adaptation of The Secret Garden is set to come out in August this year and, watching the trailer, it has clearly received a radical updating: gone is Preisner’s ethereal soundtrack, the muted realism of the scenes and the simplicity of Holland’s direction. This is blockbuster stuff: fast paced, razor sharp precision, intensely vivid colour – dramatic on an epic scale, and I can’t help but feel wistful for the humble 1993 version. But then again, Marc Munden’s adaptation isn’t my home comfort or my childhood nostalgia – I’ll leave that to someone else. 

Image via Flickr

South Asians and the BLM movement: Standing up for Fellow POC

0

TW: Racism

As a POC (British Indian), I have had my fair share of racist comments. Luckily for me, most of them have been pretty trivial, reflecting ignorance rather than malicious intent but nevertheless, not easily forgotten. I know that discrimination faced by members of the black community is so many times worse. 

Across the world, many people, including South Asians, have been raising awareness, protesting, donating and fundraising in support of Black Lives in response to the appalling murders of George Floyd and others. High profile, influential Bollywood celebrities have tweeted their support for BLM, encouraging other South Asians to follow in their footsteps. We have seen the pain inflicted on Black Lives for too long and need to stand together in solidarity, exposing and overcoming white privilege. 

Yet, how can we claim to sufficiently support BLM when many of our cultural attitudes are inherently racist and indirectly propagate anti-black sentiments? Most notably is the South Asian obsession with fair skin- which is often seen as a prerequisite for beauty. Skin colour bias is commonly thought to be derived from the Hindu caste system- with lighter skin associated with more superior castes. Although the idea of castes predates colonialism, it is likely that associations with colorism were exacerbated during the double-century long British Raj. People would cater to and strive to be more similar to white people with the hope of accessing better opportunities. Fair skin was seen as a desirable characteristic when seeking out marital partners and this is still the case today (although arranged marriages are less common).

Today, South Asian fair skin obsessions are largely driven by the film industry. Actors with lighter skin are more likely to be seen in more prominent roles, and “brownfacing” is common practice to reflect characters of poorer origins. A recent example is the 2019 “super-hit” Bollywood movie Bala, in which the actress Bhumi Pednekar was brownfaced when playing Latika, a talented girl who is rejected by several marriage proposals solely due to her dark skin. It is disgustingly ironic that a lighter skinned actress was brownfaced over casting a darker skinned actress, when the very moral of the movie is the beauty of different complexions. 

These attitudes towards preferring lighter complexions are propagated by the thriving South Asian market of skin lightening products and skin bleaching. When I was just 10, excited about my first pedicure before a wedding in India, I was painted with bleach up and down my legs. I remember thinking it was moisturiser; it was only when my skin started burning that I realised otherwise. Safe to say I have never had a pedicure since. Somewhat hypocritically, Karan Johar, Dishi Patani and Priyanka Chopra, all Bollywood celebrities who tweeted their support for BLM, have all also advertised skin lightening products. In response to criticism, Priyanka Chopra deleted her tweet. This is not enough. We need statements from these influential celebrities condemning the pursuit of fair skin. South Asians who have been emotionally alienated and even physically harmed by these attitudes deserve an apology. Crucially, this warped perception of beauty results in colourist sentiments towards darker skinned individuals and hence members of the Black community. This is frankly unacceptable.

Furthermore, following the US 1965 Immigration Act, people from Asia were permitted to immigrate to the USA; Asians were portrayed via the “model minority myth”. This stereotyping favoured their success, whilst simultaneously expanding the gap between Black Americans and Southern Asian Americans. The systemic racist oppression faced by Black people is reflected by statistics- according to the US 2018 consensus, the median household income of Black American houses was 41,400 USD, almost half that of white people (70,600 USD) and under half that of Asian households (87,200 USD). Similarly, in the UK, data from 2015-2018 showed that the 42% of the Indian British population earnt over £1000 per week, whereas this was only true for 19% of the Black British population. It is evident that South Asians have also benefited from white privilege at the expense of Black People. It is about time that we addressed these disparities. 

It is crucial that South Asians continue to support BLM by donating money, fundraising, protesting, signing petitions, increasing our understanding of the hardships faced by the black community and raising awareness. However, although we may not be white ourselves, unless we address our cultural racist ideologies, we become complicit with white supremacist ideologies. We need to educate ourselves on the history of casteism, colourist attitudes, colonialism and slavery so that we are better able to recognise and call out racial insults within our own community as well as elsewhere. We need to stamp out South Asian obsession with lightening skin and finding fairer skin attractive. Interracial relationships and friendships with black people need to be supported and accepted, not stigmatised.

In order for many of these measures to be successful in the long-term, it means challenging the ideals of those in our close community circles and family. These difficult conversations can be approached via discussions about how peaceful BLM protests are being met with violence by the police and how black people have wrongfully been facing such a threat of police violence for decades. Highlight the positive role South Asians have been playing to support the cause, including how the owners of the Gandhi Mahal Restaurant in Minneapolis used the restaurant as a base for protestors and medics, and how Rahul Dubey welcomed over 70 protestors into his house in New York for refuge. Emphasise how small changes in attitudes can have extremely rewarding consequences.

Fundamentally, encourage support for the lives and wellbeing of our fellow black ethnic minorities. Black Lives Matter. 

Album Review: Lady Gaga’s ‘Chromatica’

0

Promoting her latest album on Twitter, Lady Gaga told fans: “listen from beginning to end, no need to shuffle, this is my true story.” Indeed, Chromatica is a study of the album as a personal narrative, of music as an exploration of the self. Gaga unapologetically discusses raw issues, from mental illness to the pressures of society and the media, while at the same time refusing to renounce her signature fast-paced dance pop.

After her less-than-revolutionary experimentation with the ballad form on the 2018 A Star is Born soundtrack and her 2016 release Joanne, fans are delighted to be hit with some new energy in the form of a fiercely electronic disco-pop album. This is one for the clubs – or rather, in our current circumstances, the socially-distanced dance sessions in the garden or on alcohol-infused zoom calls.

A crucial success of Chromatica is its ability to maintain an overarching narrative whilst at the same time including songs which work as their own kind of stand-alone story. Gaga outlines her experience with antipsychotics on ‘911’, one of the album’s stand-out tracks. The lyrics are articulate and powerful: “Turnin’ up emotional faders / Keep repeating self-hating phrases / I have heard enough of these voices / Almost like I have no choice”; Gaga admits and embraces her own vulnerability and highlights the feelings of powerlessness often caused by mental illness. However, the strong, pulsating beat throughout the song injects a sense of reclamation and strength as she takes control of her own narrative.

She also addresses her experiences navigating the world as a woman in the spotlight; ‘Plastic Doll’ is particularly strong in challenging traditional gender expectations as well as the objectifying nature of the media: “I’m no toy for a real boy / If you’re a real boy”. She turns the male gaze on its head by challenging her partner’s own masculinity, before rejecting the scrutiny of the media by throwing their criticism back at them: “Tell me, who dressed you? Where’d you get that hat? / Why is she cryin’? What’s the price tag?”. ‘Free Woman’ is another empowering moment of self-definition –  I’m sure it won’t be long before we are all belting out: “I’m still something if I don’t got a man / I’m a free woman” whenever an opportunity arises for a bit of dancing, even if it’s just a solo session in our rooms.

Chromatica’s main downfall, however, is a lack of the musical innovation we love most in Gaga, her more original spins on generic pop as seen in throwback fan-favourites like ‘Born This Way’ or ‘Bad Romance’. The closest we come to this kind of true Gaga-esque flair is the final track, ‘Babylon’, a song few other artists on the would truly be able to pull off (save Madonna back in 1990). A number of the Chromatica tracks risk verging on becoming what one might call a bland or mindless club tune, though in some cases they are saved by their lyrics and deeper message. ‘Replay’ and ‘1000 Doves’ don’t immediately grab their listeners’ attention, although they do contain important themes, especially relating to Gaga’s experience with PTSD and inner conflict: “The scars on my mind are on replay, r-replay / The monster inside you is torturing me”. Though Gaga’s honest and authentic lyrics often come to her aid, the less personal collabs can be found more disappointing – in particular, ‘Rain on Me’ with Ariana Grande. It’s a decent enough dance tune after you’ve had a few drinks, but there’s not a huge amount more to say about it.

The main source of innovation in the album is definitely the use of high-energy, mood-enhancing, dance music to tell a story about the serious and the introspective. Gaga tells her story in her own way: that is, though pop, pop, and more pop. Though some might brand this style as superficial, this album’s discussion of the deep brings a new dimension to the club genre. What does it mean for society when people are able to dance all night to songs that address mental health and vulnerability? That we are making some kind of progress towards becoming more aware of, and willing to confront, the issues of the modern day? I hope so. In terms of purely musical innovation, I don’t know if Chromatica will make a massive impact on the sounds making up future dance numbers. But thematically and conceptually, I think this album has the potential to encourage us to deal with what’s real.

University’s response to racism leaves students “disappointed” and “distrustful”

0

Oxford students have criticised Oxford University’s response to racial inequality and injustice, in light of worldwide protests against police violence and systemic racism.

The African and Caribbean Society (ACS), alongside the Presidential Committee of collegiate JCRs and many MCR Presidents, have expressed concerns in an open letter to the University, which states that “seemingly performative” statements and actions have left many students “distrustful and weary”.

The Oxford Student Union (SU) has written an open letter to the University Vice-Chancellor to express “disappointment” at the University’s response to the “ongoing issues of racial injustice around the world”.

An Oxford Anti-Racism open letter, ‘Oxford University Must Tackle Systemic Racism’, has been signed by over 2000 individuals and organisations affiliated with the University since it was released this morning. The letter describes how the University has failed to “uphold anti-racist values” and the steps needed for change.

The University tweeted its commitment to anti-racism a few days ago, linking to resources about diversity and welfare support on the Oxford website.

“Pure lip-service to shield its reputation”, says open letter from students and organisations

The SU states that “quite rightly” reaction from students and the wider population has been “overwhelmingly critical”. The SU notes that the response did not acknowledge the “institutional anti-Blackness and racism of the University and commit to tackling it.”

Criticism included tweets noting the University’s issues with racism, such as the Oxford Union, Stormzy’s scholarship for black British students, and the University’s affiliation with Cecil Rhodes.

The SU asks the University to release “a more comprehensive statement”, which acknowledges anti-Black racism, expresses solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement and Black students, condemns police violence towards Black people in the UK and the US, apologises for failings, and commits to integrating anti-racism into the University.

The SU proposes nine points for the University to tackle racial inequality. These include embedding anti-racism into welfare across the University, committing to decolonising the curriculum and reading lists, and making equality and diversity training to staff mandatory.

The Oxford Anti-Racism open letter from students and societies states that the the University “values its reputation over its responsibility to students, knowledge production, and anti-racism.”

It describes how the University does not currently “uphold anti-racist values”, including the underrepresentation of Black British students at Oxford, regular racist incidents, and “only inconsequential inroads into tackling the material legacy of imperialism.”

It demands engagement with Black and minority ethnic students, improvement of intake of Black and minority ethnic students, and ensuring colleges commit to anti-racist measures through providing diversity training and welfare services.

It also describes how the University should redress its “racist financial legacy”, through paying the Oxford Living Wage, undertaking an independent enquiry into how the University benefitted from slavery and colonial wealth, and prioritising engagement with the wider community over “hoarding knowledge and resources”.

The University’s decision to delay the release of diversity admissions data, due to be published this week, has been met with further criticism. A statement from the University said: “As world events have escalated over the last ten days, it became obvious that now was not the time to share this content… It felt deeply inappropriate to publish content that could distract from the important challenges and debate facing our society at this time and try to draw attention to our own progress on the figures.”

The Anti-Racism Oxford open letter says this delay proves the tweet on anti-racism is “pure lip service to shield its reputation”. The African and Caribbean Society (ACS) letter states that this delay is “contrary to the supportive and proactive tone of the prior statement.”

The ACS, with JCR and MCR Presidents, writes: “What is becoming increasingly clear is that the university’s track record and response so far have left many students, Black, BAME, and otherwise, distrustful and weary of the seemingly performative nature of the statements made and actions taken by the university and staff.”

The ACS lists actions the University should take to address racism, including publicly apologising for its “delayed and vague initial response”, announcing “transparent, tangible details” of how University and colleges will support welfare provision for Black students, and “swift disciplinary action” against students who have acted in discriminatory ways.

The letter notes the “number of racists and insensitive comments, ‘jokes’, posts, and actions carried out by students across the university… The unprecedented nature of this virtual/remote term has left a paper trail of racist incidents that would likely have otherwise been downplayed and/or (mis) ‘managed’ if they happened in person.”

The letter mentions the recent remarks made by a Christ Church candidate for a JCR position, who reasoned that US riots and the killing of George Floyd meant she should become ‘Cake Rep’. The letter expresses concern about how Melanie Onovo, who spoke out against the comments, was treated by Christ Church Censors.

“We feel the way in which Christ Church responded demonstrates a profound lack of understanding and devaluing of the black female experience… In the University’s concern for confidentiality, it seems that ‘welfare’ is being weaponised to silence victims and allow those who demonstrate harmful, discriminatory, and prejudiced behaviour to evade accountability for their actions.”

Some JCRs have since condemned how Christ Church college and the JCR handled the hustings and the response to it. A petition and a letter template addressed to the staff and JCR criticise the University and college’s mistreatment of Onovo and their failures to address systemic racism.

Christ Church released a statement about the hustings, condemning the remarks made at the JCR hustings, saying: “We all have much to learn, but we are committed to fostering a culture of mutual respect both at Christ Church and in the wider world.”

Dr Rebecca Surender, University Advocate for Equality and Diversity and Pro Vice-Chancellor, has sent to Oxford departments and colleges an email for onward communication to staff and students which emphasises the University’s anti-racism and the support available. The email links to resources for staff and student wellbeing, the BME staff network, and advice and training about harassment.

Surender writes: “The death of George Floyd in Minneapolis last week and subsequent events have shone a light on how institutions, including Oxford, deal with racism.

“Many of you have written to me to express the anger and frustration you feel. You have also asked about the University’s own support for those affected by these issues and our stance on addressing racism within our own institution. I am replying to as many individual emails as I can but thought it might be helpful to share our position more widely.

“The University reaffirms its unequivocal abhorrence of and opposition to racism against Black and Minority ethnic people and discrimination in all its forms. At the same time, we acknowledge that the University itself is imperfect in the way it addresses these issues. We still have work to do in creating a truly diverse and inclusive community where everyone feels respected and secure, but we are determined in our efforts to achieve this. These points have been acknowledged publicly, including in a statement which went to the media on 4 June.”

This article was updated at 17:26 to include comment received from Oxford University and to reflect increased numbers signing the open letter.

Image credit to Andrew Shiva / Wikipedia. License: CC BY-SA 4.0.

How to have the perfect relationship (and other lies)

0

Often, Men seem Martian. They just baffle me. And I’ve got it on good authority that despite our best efforts, they’re regularly just as perplexed by women. But is it healthy to generalise the behaviour of a whole gender? What’s responsible for reinforcing our notions of the opposite sex? And where did I get the idea that men are like rubber bands from? 

 Whether you first heard his ideas in ‘Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging’ like me, or were inspired to read his book after its references in ‘Clueless’, you’ve probably come across ‘Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus’ by John Gray. It was a nineties sensation and though it’s written to benefit both sexes, it was mostly discussed by women in hushed, reverent tones. After I rediscovered my mum’s copy, lockdown has given me no choice but to read it. So, if you were wondering if Gray’s advice is the answer to the perfect relationship, I’ve put myself through 300 pages of a nineties self-help book just for you. 

I went in, I’ll admit, with high hopes – the appeal of the book is clear. It’s basically the adult equivalent of the WikiHow article on ‘How To Tell If Your Crush Really Likes You’ that you googled in year 7. ( I know for a fact this wasn’t just me, please don’t try to convince me otherwise). The book comes with the promise of indisputable facts about the opposite sex and provides answers for all the challenges of a heterosexual relationship. A lot of the advice is written as easy-to-read lists, for those who care enough about their relationship to buy the book, but not enough to want to slog through anything as challenging as paragraphs. Unfortunately, you can tell this book was written by a man who lived as a monk until the eighties. Clearly that second wave of feminism entirely passed him by, as the book is full of stereotypical portrayals of genders we understand to be social constructs. This is a shame, because parts of the book are vaguely redeemable.

You’ll recognise the ideas about men that Gray made famous. Roughly half of the book for example, is dedicated to protecting the sanctity of the ‘Man Cave’. Women are warned (in a way that makes me think that Gray now probably really enjoys Game of Thrones) that if they enter The Cave, they will be “burned by the dragon”. It’s unclear what ‘the dragon’ represents, whether it’s the man, or a vague, anthropomorphised manifestation of everything fundamentally bad in a relationship. Now, the concept of The Man Cave is everywhere. It’s the inspiration for the interior design of several of my friends’ college rooms (though that may be subconscious on their part) and it’s referenced all the time – in sitcoms, books and film.

But the famous advice that Bridget Jones and 12 year old me held onto was that “men are like rubber bands”. What Gray meant was that men exist in a cycle of intimacy, needing to pull away after a period of closeness, but that if you don’t chase them, they’ll eventually come pinging back. When this idea was introduced to me in ‘Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging’ aged 12, it made a startling amount of sense. My previous romantic experience was limited to being repeatedly kicked in assembly by a boy who supposedly liked me and being turned down by my Year Six crush, though he had admitted to liking me immediately beforehand. Boys were subsequently a source of perpetual bewilderment. With this new advice I felt like I’d been let into a secret. I vividly remember trying to act nonchalant and sophisticated in a pair of grey school shorts and tights. It was a valiant effort. 

I passionately dislike mind games in a relationship. However, while this advice follows the “treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen” tactic that I deplore, the reminder not to chase after someone is a useful one. But, though these manipulative methods can work, they often don’t. I didn’t get the guy in Year Six and I’m really bad at being patient with my rubber bands – instead I have a habit of just losing interest when they play games. 

Unfortunately, some of Gray’s lesser known arguments are even more problematic. To explain to men why women value thoughtfulness in a relationship, he prescribes an analogy that likens them to cars, with ‘love tanks’. This metaphor succeeds wonderfully in insulting the intelligence of both sexes, before he lists ways to keep women’s ‘love tanks’ fuelled. Much of this advice could just as easily be recommended for both sexes, though it’s tailored to his understanding of the average doesn’t-do-the-dishes-or-meaningful-conversation kind of man. No.39, “Display affection in public” is worth remembering. No.24; “give her four hugs a day” is an oddly specific number, but a nice idea, whilst No.64: “buy some good super glue to fix things” is a charmingly random suggestion to win romantic affection. But I hope for more than no.5’s “twenty minutes of unsolicited, quality attention (don’t read the newspaper)” and no.20’s “occasionally offer to wash the dishes”.

 As if this wasn’t bad enough, his advice for women is worse. We do best when “he asks her to do something and she says yes and is happy to do it”, and when  “she feels disapproving and instead of expressing it she goes in another room and privately centres herself”. We also score well when, (and I would have hoped this last one was a prerequisite for any physical relationship to exist but) we, “really enjoy having sex with him”. 

I would argue Gray’s moment is over. Rather than providing unbiased advice, he adopts a permissive tone for men, and patronises women. Men are given quick fixes to avoid immediate conflict, but otherwise encouraged to be ‘rubber bands’ or retreat to their ‘man cave’ without any explanation. Meanwhile, women are chastised for any criticism they give their partner, instead preached the virtues of patience and compromise. Now, its ideas just amuse us, because we’d never consider them seriously. We have evolved past the need for its patriarchal nonsense and though for a while its advice may intrigue us, eventually we come to our senses. Even Bridget Jones binned it. 

‘Too diverse’: the racist backlash to Fred Perry

0

If you’re a person of colour, or a minority in the UK, it is more than likely that you become desensitised to casual racism. You become used to the sly digs and racial slurs that are everywhere, especially on the internet: but sometimes there are moments when the racism still existing in 2020 catches you off guard, makes you aware of the prejudice still thriving in the UK. Considering the utter chaos of the world right now, it seems like a joke to imagine anyone’s biggest beef being with a clothing brand being too diverse. 

Yet this is what some especially venomous trolls have been occupying their time with on Twitter, announcing their decision to boycott the British clothing brand, Fred Perry, due to their all too diverse cast of models. Too diverse.

Fred Perry’s Instagram posts, a slew of smouldering twenty-somethings amongst the fashion-house’s obligatory pandemic fuelled price cuts, drew intense criticism, with screenshots of the brand’s Instagram flooding Twitter with captions including ‘diversity bollocks’, and ‘will be throwing away all my FP’— about as threatening as they are intelligent. The reason for such comments? The fact that Fred Perry had the audacity to not hire enough white models.

The contempt for these black British models is both infuriating and terrifying: I’d recommend searching up some of the comments made, but they’re so reprehensible I’d instead recommend taking a long look into your bin, as the same effect will be achieved. There are the tired implications that these young models are ‘job stealers’, they are not ‘Englishmen’, a term used by one troll without irony, and some even charmingly commenting that they are ‘stealing white women’. Yikes.

The outrage over the lack of white models transcends the usual micro-aggression: even the idea that the clothing brand would hire black models has these racists foaming at the mouth. These trolls have complained that the lack of white models is a direct insult to their British heritage, and that as a result the brand must be condemned. 

The irony of the whole situation is that Fred Perry, a brand founded in 1952 by the eponymous champion tennis player, is a brand that has historically been adopted by numerous anti-establishment and multicultural subcultures over the years. Their polos and parkas have been worn by the Mods of the late 50s, the working class skinheads who loved reggae and shaved their heads before it was a symbol of neo-Nazism, and the Northern Soul scene who thrived on fast paced black American Soul and football fashion. One Google search and it seems that everyone has a different group in mind for the stereotypical FP wearer, from football fans to the Jamaican youths in 1960’s West London.

Fred Perry is a fashion brand steeped in history of music subculture, of youth and rebellion, of 1960s counterculture, Mods and Rockers, everything in between and outside, and of course tennis mixed in somewhere. What it has never been is a symbol of white supremacy.

Not all people are sitting on either side of this fence: some are asking why it matters. The tone-deaf phrases ‘colour-blind’ and ‘I don’t see colour’ are being thrown around more than any FP wearer has thrown a tennis ball, with people asking why the issue is relevant. Can’t we just move on and say that skin colour doesn’t matter? The truth is it does matter. It matters deeply. Not only because the racist bile is an insult to the history of the brand, but more importantly, it is an insult to every person of colour and their very existence, implying a sense of audacity in a black person’s career endeavours. Why should people of colour have to ‘just imagine it in your skin tone’, sit on the side-lines whilst white people are prioritised, and then get torn apart online when they are finally given a chance? Asking why the issue matters is another way of disregarding people of colour whilst attempting to create a hierarchy that does them no favours. This is 2020, and fashion is for everyone. Freedom is for everyone. 

Responding to Dazed on March 15th, Fred Perry established that the images taken issue with weren’t part of any specific campaign— they were taken from their Instagram and scrutinised by people who had a problem with the colour of these models’ skin. They reiterated their stance on the matter quite clearly: “The Laurel Wreath has always been a symbol of both individuality and of belonging.” That answers that, then.

It’s a truly ironic situation that has played out amidst a backdrop of social wildfires. The assumption that Fred Perry, a historically diverse brand who have condemned prejudice on multiple occasions, belongs to Dave, 41, two kids and a Chelsea supporter, and all his EDL mates, is honestly laughable. Welcome to the real world. This outrage may just be the product of these people being cooped up too long with nothing better to do than shout into the void, however it is yet another example of the entitled population on the internet only caring about diversity when it suits their own agenda. Another example of the racism still thriving today. This is not what fashion should be about in an evolving world, something segregated and controversial, and the opinions of misplaced bigots do not represent a brand that have spent years being firmly established in the diverseness of British culture. 

I’ll be honest, I’ve never before considered purchasing anything from Fred Perry, mainly because it’s a little pricey and I don’t look great in polos. I’ll also admit that this whole scandal had made me a whole lot more eager to hand over my money, even if it is to just prove a point to the dribbling, racist trolls online that representation matters. As one Twitter user stated quite succinctly—those people are no longer required as customers anyway, and the rest of us can recognise black excellence when we see it. 

A social blend: the history of the Oxford coffeehouse

‘I have measured out my life in coffee spoons’ is a line which comes uncomfortably close to describing how I spend much of my time. Yet my guilt is somewhat relieved by the knowledge that I am in the majority here. Certainly, many Oxford students’ hours spent studying, socialising and dating are built up less in the dorm, club or restaurant, and more in cafes than we sometimes realise. Spoilt for choice in this city, and with workloads long enough to require a few changes of scene, the cafe table as office desk is more than an everyday sight, and with the abysmal English winter weather, meeting friends outside is a rare occurrence till third term. 

This kind of reliance on cafes is of course not exclusive to Oxford, but it seems a more central part of student life here than any other city I have spent time in. I think the fact that it can often be so difficult to get a seat in these places is a testament to how many people value cafes here as much as I do. Not to mention the fact that there is no better place to eavesdrop on interesting conversations, to happily bump into a friend by chance, or to spot interesting characters than in Oxford cafes. In just one term I had overheard CosmicSkeptic debating with friends, the animator of ‘The Snowman and The Snowdog’ chatting about her work, and the popular science writer Colin Bruce talking very loudly about life on mars and his friendship with Mark Haddon. If any of these people are reading this article, I can assure them that I wasn’t purposefully eavesdropping on their conversation, I was studying nearby and couldn’t help it. 

Cafes may play a central role in Oxford life, but as it happens, English cafes, or to use the olde term, coffeehouses, have a history in which the city plays a highly important part too. Coffee was introduced to England in the early 17thcentury, and in 1652 the first coffeehouse opened; it was called the Angel, and was located at the site now occupied by the Grand Café on High Street. Coming in at close second is the Queens Lane Coffee House, less than 100 metres away, which opened in 1654. The reason that Oxford was leading from the front in this regard is due to the large concentration of academics in the city, who had ‘exotic’ interests and were perhaps more aware of changes in Europe, where coffeehouses had already begun to open. These two ingredients, the intellectuals and the coffeehouse, mixed to create a phenomenon of some significant importance in English history, which can easily be forgotten and underappreciated.

The coffeehouses soon acquired the nickname ‘penny universities’, due to their patrons from the colleges and the cheap cost of entry. This high intellectual clientele, combined with such inexpensive costs (if only they were still this cheap), meant that less well-off locals and travellers, who couldn’t normally access educational institutions such as Oxford, could begin to mix and discuss common matters of interest with these prestigious dons and students, some of which spent more time in the coffeehouse than they did at class– behaviour which I imagine sounds familiar to some readers. It was said that Christopher Wren was a regular attendee. Entry also included access to newspapers and pamphlets, with ‘runners’ going from café to café sharing any updates in news. These spaces of debate soon became fuel for the newspapers themselves, with the original Spectator and Tatler magazines acquiring much of their content from things heard at the coffeehouses of London (the popular ‘The Spectator’ blog is called ‘Coffee House’, which is a nice testament to its origins). 

It was in London where the coffeehouse next caught on after its success in Oxford. One notable early London cafe was called Nando’s. I like to think that writers such as Johnathan Swift may have been heard to exclaim to their friends that they were heading for a cheeky Nando’s, although I was disappointed to find out that the word ‘cheeky’ wasn’t used till about the 1840’s. With geographical spread, the political significance of coffeehouses only increased over time­– Charles II even closed them all in 1675, after accusing them of breeding sedition. However, after great protests from every faction of the political spectrum, the King gave in within only two weeks and allowed them to reopen. So, for any of us missing Oxford cafes due to the coronavirus, we can be assured that our feelings would be shared by our Oxonian ancestors. 

Whilst coffeehouse culture faded out through the 18th century due to the increasing popularity of tea, exclusive clubs and snobbishness, many managed to hold on through the next few centuries until their popularity grew again in the 20th century. Their function in Oxford is in some ways very similar to what it was back in 1652, although now much improved by the presence of female customers, who were unfortunately excluded from the original coffeehouses. Students may sometimes feel guilty, or be looked down upon by some, for studying in cafes and laying out sheets of paper, books and a laptop over their table, but the merchants and stockbrokers of the 17th century turned their tables into mini offices in much the same way, so we can relax knowing that we are part of a 370-year-old tradition in that respect. Whilst the cafes here are dominated by students and a mostly middle-class local clientele, the diverse nature of the student body means that the social and cultural mixing has been retained.

For the moment, it is nice to appreciate the things we normally take for granted (‘The Missing Bean’ has never been a more apt name), and consider their wider importance in history and society, including what they may mean to others as well as ourselves. A sense of solidarity can be fuelled from these common interests and habits which we usually consider small. We can look forward to when we have returned to normality, where routines and spontaneity can freely mix again, and we can return to our regular haunts either in Oxford or back home. 

‘…. there were still some who climbed the narrow stairs to their favourite coffeehouses although no longer prepared to converse freely with strangers. Before entering they looked quite around the room, and would not approach even close acquaintances without first inquiring the health of the family at home and receiving assurances of their well-being’

Despite the fact that these lines, describing cafes during the plague year of 1665, will sound unfortunately familiar in the near future, we can gain comfort and relief from the thought that, like back then, these bizarre times will eventually be over. We will soon be able to meet friends and strangers again without worrying about how closely we are stood or sat together.