Wednesday 9th July 2025
Blog Page 442

Review: Khruangbin’s ‘Mordechai’

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Part of Khruangbin’s marketing campaign for Mordechai features an update to their online playlist curator, AirKhruang. The 2015 website allowed listeners to create playlists for their upcoming flights by inputting their departure point and final destination, as well as other parameters, such as whether they prefer window over aisle seats, or tea over coffee. The resulting playlist lasts the duration of the flight and features music from countries over which the plane will travel. Khruangbin’s new update, AirKhruang: Shelter in Space, creates playlists based on the listeners desired activity and duration. An extensive list of activities ranges from exercise to meditation, and the created playlists includes music from around the world.

Mordechai continues Khruangbin’s tradition of incorporating global influences into their music. Whereas Khruangbin’s two previous albums are based on Thai and Middle Eastern music, Mordechai takes listeners on a journey from Latin America to West Africa. Mordechai may lack the stylistic cohesion of Khruangbin’s 2015 and 2018 works, but it nevertheless contains moments of inspired, and at times even original, music.

2020 has marked a change in direction for the Houston based trio. Leading on from Texas Sun, a collaboration with Leon Bridges released earlier this year, Mordechai includes a large number of vocal tracks, a change from their largely instrumental existing repertoire. Although the use of vocals disrupts the much-loved simplicity of the guitar, bass and drums line-up, the songs with vocals are some of the most memorable on the album.

‘Pelota’ is the album’s main highlight. Here, the Spanish rumba influence is obvious, while Khruangbin continue their tradition of accompanying heart-warming music videos. The groove is catchy but not tedious, over which the guitar lines are executed with excitement and precision. The percussion, with the added cowbells, handclaps and toms, provide a rich palate of sounds without overcrowding the mix. ‘Time (You and I)’, a track made for the dancefloor, is equally strong and adds a disco song to the band’s catalogue. Bassist Laura Lee’s lyrics are simple yet charming: “That’s life / If we had more time / We could live forever / Just you and I / We could be together.” The end of the song includes shouts of “that’s life” in an array of languages over the funk groove, a fitting tribute to the global influences that have had so much impact on the band.

The use of vocals on the album is distinctive and refreshing, but their use is often textural, as demonstrated in ‘First Class’. When the function of the vocals is purely melodic, their success ranges from good, in ‘If There is No Question’, to just okay, in ‘Dearest Alfred’. The vocal additions may detract from one of Khruangbin’s main selling points: Mark Speer’s highly melodic and creative guitar lines, which act in a ‘vocal’ manner.

Of the instrumental tracks on the album, ‘Shida’ is by far the strongest, embodying all the expected characteristics of a Khruangbin song: elegant guitar melodies, metronomic drums and inventive bass lines. The variation in chord progressions is refreshing, and the use of the voice, although sparse, is effective. As for the other instrumental tracks, ‘Father Bird, Mother Bird’ feels a little repetitive, but introduces a harp flourish, which provides some continuity between otherwise stylistically dissonant songs. The lyrics of ‘So We Won’t Forget’ are foreshadowed on the dub track ‘One to Remember’. Although reprises can often be interpreted as lazy or “album fodder” – see Arcade Fire’s Everything Now – Khruangbin get away with it on this track. The song is stylistically far removed from ‘So We Won’t Forget’ and the lyrics are set back in the mix with enough reverb to give the vocals a distant, dreamy quality.

‘Connaissais de Face’, a poetic conversation between Mark and Laura, builds on the use of spoken word in Con Todo El Mundo (2018). As the pair remember old friends, their words are wonderfully quirky. ‘Dearest Alfred’, however, may be the weakest song on the album. The vocal melody is unimaginative and repetitive, and the background littering of instrumental effects fails to produce the same level of interest as the opening track ‘First Class’.

Khruangbin owed their previous successes to their global influences, simplicity, and versatility. Their evocative music is an ideal soundtrack for everyday life, perfect for many of the activities listed on AirKhruang: Shelter in Space. Although AirKhruang may appear as a gimmicky marketing tool, it does provide insight into Khruangbin’s enormous appetite for global music. It also hints at the vast number of largely undiscovered musical gems that can easily be found through todays powerful streaming sites.

Mordechai is not a cheap pastiche, but a fresh take on an array of global styles. The inclusion of vocals on Mordechai has altered Khruangbin’s sound, but the result is a refreshing and varied album, adding a new depth to the trio’s repertoire.

   

Image: APEVicPark270518-29 by Raph_PH (image cropped for use)

Non-academic staff at Keble face possible redundancy

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Keble College has announced a month-long process of consultation about a redundancy programme to deal with the financial impact of COVID-19. Details have been given in an email to students and a recorded statement.

The College told students that it has lost around £3 million in revenue due to the cancellation of conference and bed and breakfast bookings and a loss of income from room rentals. The Governing Body states that it is aiming to avoid any compulsory redundancies.

In response to a FOI request from Cherwell, Keble stated it employed 135 non-academic staff in total in the last financial year, most of whom are involved either directly or indirectly in the conference business. The total cost of their employment was £4.68 million in the 2018-19 financial year. Roughly half of these staff were furloughed, and their full salary was paid by the College. The ongoing impact of the pandemic has rendered these costs unsustainable.

As explained by the Warden, Keble has already made attempts to reduce costs through the cancellation of alumni events and the reduction of academic allowances. But without the associated revenue of the conference business, which will be suspended until Summer 2021, and with an anticipated drop in academic fee income, the College has begun a process of redundancy consultation.

In his first statement to the student body, the Warden expressed a desire to “avoid any compulsory redundancies if at all possible” and “to give as much support as we can to those affected.” It is not yet known what form this support will take.

In a recorded message to students, the Warden stressed the importance of avoiding “unsustainable debt”. He stated such financial instability would prevent the College from continuing its work in student access and admissions and in supporting the graduate body.

In recent years Keble has continued to pursue its educational mission through the establishment of the H B Allen Centre for graduates. This project cost a total of £60 million for its construction and fit-out and was funded mostly by support from alumni and friends, with gifts and pledges totalling £38 million.

The Warden, who has two years left of a twelve-year tenure, has identified the safeguarding of Keble’s educational mission and the strengthening of the College community as his main focus going forward.

The College has stressed that the decision to make “dedicated and hard-working” staff redundant has not been taken lightly.

The JCR President and Keble College have been contacted for comment.

Photo by DAVID ILIFF. License: CC BY-SA 3.0

‘The time to change is now’: Women behind the camera

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The #MeToo movement sparked international outrage about sexual harassment and empowered women to stand in solidarity to oppose sexual misconduct in the workplace. The hashtag went viral in 2017 when the focus was drawn to the film industry with the sexual allegations against Harvey Weinstein. In response, Hollywood celebrities founded ‘Time’s Up’, providing a legal defence fund to support those who experienced sexual harassment and pay discrimination. Above all, it was, and still is, part of an ongoing battle to achieve gender parity in the film industry.

Meryl Streep, who attended the 75th Golden Globes wearing black in support of the movement, stated: “People are aware now of a power imbalance”. A spotlight was put on the film industry to answer for its serious gender disparity. The focus was on the visual representation of women on screen by calling for more female roles and fewer stereotypes, such as the seductress, wife or mother. Whilst there is still a long way to go, recognition of the changing role of women in film is starting to have an impact.

But what about behind the screen?

The attention has been on female actors, but statistics for women in roles behind the camera are dire. More pressure is needed to bring about equality throughout the whole industry, not only on the screen. Women are vastly underrepresented as directors, writers, cinematographers, editors, and producers. If more awareness is brought to the need to increase representation in these areas, then change is more likely to occur.

Out of the top 100 films of 2019, women made up around 12% of directors, 20% of writers, and only 2% of cinematographers. The films are mostly male dominated productions, often with male-led casts and crews, such as films directed by Stephen Spielberg and Christopher Nolan. Spielberg’s 1998 film Saving Private Ryan, which won him Best Director at the Academy Awards, consisted of an overwhelmingly male cast and crew.

Gender parity on-screen is vital. But the same equality needs to be promoted more off-screen too, which will enable films to resonate with a wide audience. Women make up around 51% of moviegoers, yet women’s stories are marginalised. A man can write and direct a film about a woman, but it is often said that the best stories draw upon personal experience. Jessica Chastain criticised the “disturbing” portrayal of female characters in the films at Cannes Film Festival in 2017, and hoped that “when we include more female storytellers we will have more of the women that I recognise in my day-to-day life.” With women in behind-the-scenes leadership roles, such as writing, naturally there will be more films centring women’s narratives.

Lucy Percival, an emerging young filmmaker from Sheffield, has personal experience of being a female trying to break into the industry. The inequalities prevalent in filmmaking are undeniable. She has been involved with many programs, making connections within the industry, such as producing a short film with the National Film and Television School (NFTS), and says: “out of the six directors there was only one woman.”

Why are there so few women in film? To be able to promote change, the core of the problem must be analysed. Women need to be shown that this is a viable career for them. Sarah Gavron, director of the 2015 film Suffragette, recalls she “started to have these ideas for films. They were like running images in my head. But I didn’t think I could be a director. I just literally didn’t think it was a possibility. Then I started to suddenly see films of women.” She articulates a key issue for aspiring female filmmakers: there are not enough role models in the industry. In the 92 years that the Academy Awards has taken place, only five women have ever been nominated for Best Director.

More women need to receive international acclaim and credit for their writing and directing to allow others to believe that it is possible. Change is on the horizon. It may be slow, but gradually more women are gaining recognition. Greta Gerwig and Olivia Wilde have made it into mainstream film circles with Little Women (2020), Ladybird (2017) and Booksmart (2019). Noticeably, all are films that centralise female stories.

The problem is that not enough women have mainstream film careers. There are more women in roles behind the camera in independent filmmaking, with indie film festivals such as Sundance having higher female representation than those like the Oscars and the Golden Globes. Hollywood blockbusters are notorious for their poor diversity record, and huge studios, like Universal, Paramount, and Warner Bros need to face more pressure to include women in the filmmaking process. Hardly any of the large-budget blockbusters are directed or written by women, and often this is down to executives having a lack of trust in female directors.

Lucy Percival wants to follow the independent route, for she says: “I don’t see myself directing [what the American director, producer and screenwriter Martin Scorsese calls] ‘theme park’ movies of the big studios. I prefer character-driven narratives rather than big budget action movies.” However, independent films receive less exposure to the public, and therefore are less lucrative. There must be a conscious effort to diversify the industry to allow women to break into the male-dominated world of the big studios.

Change is happening now. The number of female directors in mainstream cinema rose from 4% to 12% in 2019. But 12% is clearly nowhere near equality. Pressure needs to be applied from below: both from smaller companies employing female directors and writers, as well as from the public. The more we watch female-directed films, the more that big studios will recognise their value and increase their representation.

Certain institutions and individuals are working for greater inclusivity in the film industry. The British Film Institute (BFI) and British Academy Film and Television Awards (BAFTA) have many courses and programs, some of which Lucy has taken part in, to encourage young women to become involved in roles behind the camera. With more movie stars speaking out about the issue and taking action, such as Reese Witherspoon starting her own company with the aim to produce quality films and TV for young women, public awareness is rising. Individual female directors are also taking on what Sarah Gavron considers to be her “responsibility as a female director”. She aims to create a more inclusive working environment on set by employing many women in the crew to create a space for them to gain industry experience. The main producers, editors, cinematographer, and writers in her latest film Rocks are all women.

The arts are a huge contributor to the economy, but access to the film industry is limited. More support of careers in film is needed in schools, and to avoid discouraging women from aspiring to work in film due to lack of stability. Throughout my own school years, a career in film was seen as unrealistic and was almost scoffed at: “so what is your back-up plan?” Instead, we need to make a career as a female filmmaker seem possible, and to put pressure on the industry to give more women a chance, to make a career as a female filmmaker achievable.

Then a possibility can become a reality, and the film industry can move closer to gender equality.

Alumnus James Price elected Union President

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James Price, who graduated Oxford in 2013, has been elected as Oxford Union President for Hilary Term 2021. After Union members first voted to Re-Open nominations and a Second Election was hacked, the Union’s Standing Committee has accepted the results below as final.

Price was elected with 431 first preferences. Jeremy Rose Bararia was the runner-up with 375 first preferences. Joseph Mochhoury was eliminated first with 30 first preferences, and Amy Gregg was eliminated second with 226 first preferences.

Price graduated in 2013 with an MA in Classical Archaeology and Ancient History. He has since worked as a House of Lords Special Advisor and stood as a Conservative Party candidate in the 2019 General Election.

He has also worked as a policy analyst at the TaxPayers’ Alliance, a right-wing think tank. Price currently works full-time at Hanover Communications in London.

Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the Union’s requirement for candidates to live within a 25-mile radius of central Oxford were waived for this election.

Beatrice Barr, Oxford Union President for Michaelmas Term 2020, told Cherwell: “This is obviously an unprecedented result, to conclude an unprecedented election. I’m relieved that the Trinity Election is finally over, so we can get on with the real work.”

Price will be the first Oxford Union President to have graduated from the University before the beginning of his term.

Price said in his manifesto: “I am running because I think it’s funny, and also because I would be better than anyone else. I have already stood for Parliament, so won’t feel the need to act like most union hacks tiresomely do. I’ve handled real budgets and managed teams of actual grownups in multiple jobs in the real world.”

The Oxford Union’s Standing Committee had previously decided against a re-poll after the Second Election was hacked. Instead, the “unsullied” votes from the Second Poll were counted. This discounts 507 “block votes” that were sent from one of seven IP addresses and all ranked candidates in the same order.

Cherwell was told that members of the Standing Committee worried about the security and public relations concerns should a third poll be held.

Experiencing museums and galleries in a COVID-19 age

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Since the announcement of further lockdown easing measures from the 4th July, galleries and museums across the country have released cautious re-opening plans. The National Gallery, where doors are set to open from the 8th July, was amongst the first to announce their proposed social distancing measures: visitors will move through the museum via three pre-determined one-way routes with hand sanitiser stations placed regularly, whilst PPE shall be provided to staff and mask-wearing ‘encouraged’ for all visitors. This will all impact experiencing museums in a COVID-19 age.

Is it worth going at all?

Though still compiling their own strategies, those following suit include  The Royal Academy, The Barbican, and all four Tate galleries in July, as well as smaller galleries such as Oxford’s own Ashmolean Museum in August. This may all be hopeful news for art and culture lovers, but it raises some difficult questions. After all, is it safe to head back into public spaces? Will we feel comfortable at these distanced exhibitions? Is it worth going at all?

During the strictest lockdown period, countless exhibitions moved online for public safety reasons. Though not all critical responses have been positive – Laura Cumming’s comment in The Observer that galleries can ‘stop pretending their online viewing rooms are actual shows’ is one example -, and some of us have wistfully imagined being there in person, the majority of these virtual tours and guides have been a genuinely excellent alternative – and far more accessible.

Just looking within Oxford, though they have no plans to re-open so far, the Natural History Museum’s virtual viewing software is a great – if slightly motion-sickening – way to take a look around at your own pace. Meanwhile, Modern Art Oxford is a game-changer: their three fully-curated online exhibits are incredibly easy to navigate; each exhibit showcases details about every work, educational videos, and signposted artist testimonies signposted. As the pandemic continues to take hundreds of lives a day, and this range of high-quality material only a click away, there is certainly an argument to continue exploring galleries from home. Yet as Jenny Waldman, director of the Art Fund, commented, ‘the lockdown closures have hit museums’ finances incredibly hard’. After months of total income loss, and with few permanent collections to rely on, many of the UK’s best-loved galleries are facing extinction.

For places such as the Ashmolean, whose much-anticipated ‘Young Rembrandt’ exhibition was shut after only two weeks, funds to maintain the artwork loans, security, and overhead costs are rapidly dwindling. Re-opening is also a financial nightmare in many ways, with director Xa Sturgis explaining that “the most we’ll be able to send through the socially distanced system is 600 visitors a week, instead of almost 5,000” – not enough to fund their loan security on Rembrandt’s 1629 self-portrait from Munich. Plans are still underway, however, for their mid-August re-opening; it seems this may be the last chance for smaller venues like this to revive themselves. If distancing measures are strictly enforced, the compromised visitor intake could be the safest (and perhaps only) way to protect both the public and the art they love.

funds to maintain the artwork loans, security, and overhead costs are rapidly dwindling

So what of the visitor experience itself? Taking the National Gallery’s measures as a basis, there seem to be some stand-out positives: unlike other leisure spots, the pub, for example, having fewer crowds and a quieter atmosphere is a definite bonus. A clear route around all the artworks also appears a useful addition, even if it might feel forced. Whilst it is inevitable that people will have to move at a reasonably fixed pace to maintain distance, leaving less time to pause over favourite pieces, the National Gallery is determined that visitors can wander freely around these marked routes despite their booked timed slot system – though whether this is achievable remains to be seen.

Yet, even if there were a sense of restriction, it would feel a little tone-deaf to mourn the old, ‘normal’ gallery visit. We are lucky if a trip is of low risk to our health; to grumble about a set route or having to wear a mask seems frankly entitled. The fact that these places still exist at all in the current climate is something about which to be profoundly grateful and to treasure whilst it lasts. It may feel strange at first; but, a chance to see original artworks anywhere, whatever the format, should not be sniffed at.

‘everything has an aura now, and not just the art’

Adrian Searle

One issue that does seem a reasonable concern, however, is not the restriction of the measures, but rather their effectiveness. It could well be possible, as the National Gallery hopes, to still move freely and spend time on each artwork, but will it actually feel comfortable to do so?

Adrian Searle, reviewing the recently opened ‘Crushed, Cast, Constructed’ Gagosian sculpture exhibition for The Guardian, described how ‘everything has an aura now, and not just the art’: there is a tension between the thrill of seeing artworks in the flesh again and our new paranoid awareness of distance. It could be difficult to feel that relaxed, immersive atmosphere of a museum or gallery when constantly monitoring our personal space. And yet, within a month of one-way supermarkets and two-meter queues for the post office, we no longer give it much thought; surely there is no reason why museums and galleries cannot slip into our ‘new normal’?

Socially distanced museums and galleries will be different from previous exhibitions, and probably from our expectations. They could, nonetheless, provide some hope of the art world’s revival – if only for the short term. Wariness of the gradual easing of lockdown is understandable, and many collections are still worth exploring in all their glory online. But for anyone just dreaming of a good old wander through a gallery or curious about experiencing museums in a COVID-19 age, you may rest assured that our arts institutions are equally desperate to have you back. Let us be grateful that they can at all.

Photograph by Lewis Clark via Wikimedia & Creative Commons.

Cow dies and horses injured from litter in Port Meadows

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Port Meadow has seen a large rise in littering over the past weeks. One cow has died due to ingesting plastic bags and balloons, while five horses and ten cattle are being treated for glass cuts and other injuries.

Oxford Direct Services reports collecting around three tonnes of litter a day, working “dawn until dusk to remove litter”. Oxford City Council said that “late night get-togethers, mainly of young people” are primarily to blame.

The Oxford City Council Cabinet Member for Leisure and Parks, Linda Smith, said: “”We all understand that people will want to enjoy the warm weather and visit our parks. That’s what they are there for, to be enjoyed. But it only takes a few selfish, thoughtless individuals to spoil it for everyone else by leaving litter around. Abandoned litter is not only unsightly – it can be a hazard both for other park users and for wildlife.

“Those who persist in leaving rubbish should be aware that the City Council has the power to issue fines and we are talking to partners about plans to increase enforcement action over the summer.

“It’s everyone’s Port Meadow. Please take care of it.”

Julian Cooper, ODC Landscape and Countryside Supervisor, said: “Port Meadow represents over 1000 years of history and natural history for Oxford. It’s so sad to see it left in this state by thoughtless individuals. It has already caused injury to the grazing animals on the Meadow and meant we’ve had to spend extra time and resources cleaning up. Please everyone – take your litter home.”

In order to keep Port Meadow a space open for all the public to enjoy, the Council are urging users to “enjoy parks and meadows conscientiously.”

Image from Oxford City Council

Editorial Statement

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We at Cherwell are incredibly excited to begin the next term, whatever it may hold. Preparing for the future necessitates examining our past, and just as Oxford has changed over the years in response to calls for greater diversity, Cherwell has endeavoured to make itself a platform with which all students can engage and participate. The paper has embraced these changes, but we acknowledge that change has often not gone far enough and the paper has sometimes failed to sufficiently reform its attitudes and approaches to journalism. While we have begun to move forward, particularly in light of recent events highlighting racial inequality not only abroad but also at the University, Cherwell still has a way to go. As recently as this past term, members of staff have not always been receptive to the views and experiences of other students when they differ from their own. 

A matter was recently brought to our attention regarding an article about Lana Del Rey written and posted in June, and we were made aware that this piece as well as the handling of another piece prior failed to consider the perspectives of BAME women and their experiences with feminism. We also acknowledge that other similar instances may have occurred before this, and for this we as a paper take responsibility and apologise. 

As we look to the future, we wish to be a platform for the elevation of a diverse cross-section of Oxford voices, and we believe Cherwell has a value as a space for frank and open discussions. With our new BAME Lived Experiences section, we hope to enable people to share views that would otherwise have gone unheard. This is just the start of a new focus on the voices of students that have been marginalised.

We have also taken the need for broadened perspectives into account when interviewing staff, and as we have begun to train them, awareness of key issues has been and will continue to be included. Cherwell is read across the University, and often outside of it, and this means we can and should do our part to effect change. 

It is a long journey, one which will far outlast the next term of our time as editors, but we hope to lay the groundwork now. There is great possibility, and we intend to make the most of it. 

Best wishes, and happy end of term,

Joe Hyland Deeson and Maya Misra

Editors-in-Chief

A literary holiday – JL Carr’s A Month in the Country

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I’d like to think I’m not the only person who’s spent lockdown with my cheek pressed to a window and my nose in a book, longing to be anywhere – literally anywhere! – which isn’t my parents’ house. During the malaise of lockdown, I’ve been gravitating towards shorter fiction, and one of my recent Waterstones sprees took in Jean Rhys and Albert Camus before leading me to a title and author I didn’t recognise, JL Carr’s A Month in the Country. It might be that I’d never heard of it because I’m not an English student, but I’m not so sure. The novella is a volume as subtle and slender as its plot happens to be. It’s easy to bypass the thin classic with its dated cover for meatier books, searching for something with ostensibly more substance, tension, excitement.

Maybe, in normal times, I’d do the same – but since the start of March, the world itself has not been lacking in substance or tension. If I wanted to read a dystopian novel, I could just pick up the papers. During lockdown, literary escapism no longer has to mean retreating to fantasy worlds or sweeping dramas. The word has returned to its core meaning; seeking distraction and relief from unpleasant realities, essentially, seeking a means of escape.

The protagonist of JL Carr’s A Month in the Country is also looking to escape. Tom Birkin is a traumatised First World War veteran, with the characteristic twitch and stammer of shellshock, and a stoic unwillingness to discuss the horrors he has been forced to witness. Engaged to restore a medieval church painting in the tiny Yorkshire village of Oxgodby, Birkin experiences a sense of renewal which reflects his work reviving the mural.

The titular ‘Month in the Country’ acts in the same way a good book can. It transports the novel’s troubled protagonist away from the traumatic outside world, though at times, the pain of the War still intrudes – such as when Birkin sees a photo of a dead fellow soldier and shouts ‘There is no God!’ into the evening air. Nature does not respond. A scene in which the secular Birkin is forced to step in as preacher further dramatises the turn of the century’s crisis of faith and the existentialist anguish prevailing in the face of an apparently meaningless world.

Carr creates a vivid, soothing sense of the nature of Oxgodby’s quiet community which ultimately helps Birkin heal. Rimmed by “hills heaving up like the back of some great sea-creature”, the secluded valley glitters with dew, its silence only broken by birdsong and bees, which “foraging from flower to flower seemed to deepen the stillness”. All this stillness and calm is implicitly contrasted to the chaos of war which still seethes through the communal memory even four years after its end.

Alongside this sense of healing, an undercurrent of wistful sadness runs throughout the novel, created in part by its narrative structure. Birkin is now an old man, looking back at his youth – the novel is signed off “September 1978”, after another World War has passed. He regularly muses on the lost happiness of that summer, wondering if he “would have always been happy” if he’d stayed in Oxgodby. The years after are unaddressed, save in these mournful questions which are interjected into the narrative, leaving the reader with a lingering sense of dissatisfaction and of promises yet unfulfilled.

That the story is told as a memory adds another layer to its almost elegiac quality. Birkin is not only looking back at a long-gone time of happiness but at a vanished world of pristine countryside and tight-knit rural communities congregating around church parishes, of paraffin stoves and pedal organs. Even the rose favoured by the beautiful Alice Keach is “an old variety”. The centrepiece of the novel is the uncovering of the medieval church painting and the glimpses into the past it reveals. Similarly, reminiscing about post-WWI Britain provides a glimpse into a bygone era, one not quite as buried as the Middle Ages, but still being quickly swept away by the forces of modernisation and globalisation.

Ultimately the happiness contained in these pages is ephemeral, the transitory space between one’s foot leaving the ground and meeting it again. Jobs are finished, countryside spoiled, books reach their last page. We are pulled back to reality, with its mundanities and its horrors. I underlined a passage in the book which seemed pertinent to today’s situation: “It is now or never; we must snatch at happiness as it flies.”

Yet unlike cherished memories, books can be revisited. So, while I can’t turn back the time on the coronavirus lockdown, I know I’ll be returning to the wistful idyll of JL Carr’s A Month in the Country again.

In defence of minimalism

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‘But it goes on for so long!’; ‘it keeps repeating itself – are there no new ideas?’; ‘how can one listen to it without getting bored!’. All of the above are favourite quips and queries of both musicians and non-musicians who hate minimalism. All of the above are, on the whole, true. And all of the above can easily be applied to all other forms of music. For example, Anton Bruckner’s symphonies last hours, often repeat the same thematic material three or four times too many, and have been known to drive many a listener into the relative safety of sleep. The same could be said of ELO, Euro synth-pop compilations, or Mozart, though Bruckner serves as a perfect example in defence of minimalism because in all aspects of his music, he was a maximalist. Full throttle Bruckner – five French horns playing the same thing for sixteen bars as loud as they can, to take an illustration from Symphony no. 4 – can be criticised in exactly the same way as any minimalist piece.

Western music is built on recursion, reiteration, repetition, theme and variation. Its effects rely on familiarity. Take a typical night out in Oxford. After a few VKs in the bowels of Fever, it is not surprising that so many people cannot remember the location of the toilets, let alone where they left their jacket. But whilst the route to the stairs (for a whiff of fresh air and a taste of true freedom) may be blurred, it seems that everyone knows when the chorus of a song is going to return, or when the beat is going to drop. Whilst many may be already familiar with these songs, the worryingly large number of Oxonians who pride themselves on ignorance of current popular culture can easily take part as well. It is obvious to them that the chorus will be repeated after the next verse, and not midway through it; it is common sense that the beat will drop after 8 bars of incessant ‘hype’ noise, not 5, or 55, or 0.5. The critical theorist Theodor Adorno would call this regressive listening – the music becomes so predictable that almost anyone could guess what’s going to happen next. And by anyone, that includes someone who has never listened to popular music and has just downed 10 Jägerbombs.

So if repetition is so engrained into our subconscious conception and cognition of music, then why is minimalism scorned so much, and so often? Aside from the arguments mentioned above, the usual complaints centre around its bareness; the lack of change in texture, instrumentation, melody, rhythm, dynamic, harmony – just about every musical variable. At risk of pointing out the obvious, it is clear to me that, well, this is obviously the point. For aesthetic appreciation of music to occur, minimalism is the bare minimum. Yes, it is recursive, and yes, it can last a very long time, but really, minimalist music is all we need to be musically fulfilled.

Imagine listening to a piece of Mozart, and how the piece of Mozart makes you feel. It most likely feels familiar, like you have heard it before and thus know what’s coming next, even if you haven’t and don’t. People like being right about things – they like being in control. Listening to a piece of Mozart gives people the feeling of control that comes with having predictions of the future vindicated, and thus a sense of pleasure. It is for this reason that easy listening radio stations such as Classic FM exist and are popular with the elderly, who often seek comfort in routine.

Minimalism affords this same feeling of control and pleasure, yet dispels all unnecessary ornaments, be they musical or contextual. Take out the trills, the key changes, the contrast of loud and soft passages, and the ideology of imperial Austro-Hungary from Mozart’s music, and what is left is universal music. Michael Nyman achieved this with his album Mozart 252 in 2008, with refreshing results for both the classical music industry and the listener.

Musical minimalism, then, is instinctively human music, at least to Western ears and increasingly to all. Whilst not much might change, the time spent on each passage may drag on a little, and lethargy may overtake attentiveness a few times too often, any more variation would be to put an ideological brand on the music, and any less would be objectively boring. This is not to say, however, that composers and artists can not put their individual stamp on the genre: here are my top ten pieces which all share a minimalist core.

1) Michael Nyman – ‘In Re Don Giovanni’

2) Steve Reich – ‘Tehilim’

3) Julius Eastman – ‘The Holy Presence of Joan D’Arc’

4) Meredith Monk – ‘Earth Seen From Above’

5) Michael Torke – ‘The Yellow Pages’

6) Louis Andriessen – ‘Hoketus’

7) Alexandre Rabinovitch-Barakovsky – ‘Existence’

8) Michael Gordon – ‘Trance’

9) Arvo Pärt – ‘Spiegel im Spiegel’

10) Jocelyn Pook – ‘Hallelujah’

(Disclaimer: for those who read my deeply negative review of Ludovico Einaudi’s recent album, he may be minimalist, but he is also shit.)

Photo editorial: the essence of memories in fashion and melodies

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Fashion and music are intertwined by the powerful ability to evoke even the most deeply obscured memories. Such sensory stimuli yearn to remind us of the fleeting joys and passing sorrows that, respectively, glitter and plague our pasts. In years to come, the warm orange top worn in the photos will remind me of the sweltering heat that engulfed us as lockdown rules were relaxed and the trepidation that partial freedom induced; the hanging sleeves like wings of a butterfly, emerging from our temporary chrysalis to a world decidedly different from anything we had ever known.

Model: Flora Davies

Description and photography: Agata Gwincinska