Jon Hopkins is not so much a polarising figure as one whose music can appeal to people for precisely opposite reasons. As beloved to Lost Village-going hedonists as he is to middle-aged 6 Music devotees, he drew a crowd perhaps better represented by the latter to the Brighton Dome on Sunday the 15th of March; this fact, coupled with the Dome’s being an all-seated concert hall, might have led many to expect a decidedly restrained variation on Hopkins’ live show, which has usually skewed towards the more rave-ready dimension of his music. The whole arrangement was a far cry from the ‘festivals and… standing crowds and intoxicated people’ towards whom he acknowledges his sets to have in the past been geared.
And indeed, when Hopkins takes to the stage he situates
himself not behind the decks portentously set in the middle of the arena but
behind the piano to the left of them. 20
minutes of pensive tinkling follow. The retinue expands in degrees: a guitarist
takes his place and begins to strum almost inaudibly. A cello and a violinist
join them, their rumblings ponderous and sober. Though the music itself could
largely pass for a non-descript “emotive” movie soundtrack, it has a
captivating effect on the audience, and those who dare dispel the trance and
clamber their way towards the toilets suffer disapproving scowls.
There’s a noticeable sense of intrigue as Hopkins rises from his stool and pads behind the decks for the first time. His fellow performers continue as before, now joined by occasional electronic flourishes which become more and more pronounced until the strings are once again relegated to the background. When the intensity reaches crackling new heights, two girls near the front of the hall are inspired to get to their feet; whether their courage came in liquid form or whether they’d been waiting for Jon to be done with his chamber-minimalism all along, it’s a fearless statement of intent. Their laboured dance moves are met with more widespread amusement than approval.
Yet as Jon continues to dial up the amplitude, these two courageous pathfinders steadily begin to accrue a gang of acolytes. Every thirty seconds or so, with each fresh injection of urgency, there’s a little ripple in the crowd as another three or four reticent audience members uneasily shed their inhibitions and stand up to dance. Before long half, the theatre is on its feet. The tables have turned: those who scoffed at the first few adamant partiers are now the prudish minority, and what began with classical ambience is fast approaching the ecstatic. Remarkably, the shift has been entirely fluid, right up until the first real “drop” of the evening prompts widespread delirium.
Before too long the trance has subsided and Hopkins brings the show to its first real pause. He settles back in front of his piano and the audience to their seats, but the mood has tangibly altered. The crowd is more of a collective for its shared pilgrimage from modesty to abandon, and we sink into our second dose of atmospheric piano considerably more at ease. The more subdued material is, again, pleasant enough and true to Hopkins’ recorded output, but the feeling in the theatre soon becomes one of restlessness. There is anticipatory whooping and applause when he assumes his position behind the decks for the second time: we know what’s coming now, and we aren’t disappointed.
Jon expends less effort engineering a seamless segue between
calm and dissonance this time, and it takes little provocation for the audience
to get to their feet again. By the time Open Eye Signal reaches its
throbbingly exhilarating climax with dizzying light show to match, everyone with
functioning limbs is wildly putting them to use within the confines of their
designated seat number, and the art deco pomp of the Brighton Dome feels less
appropriate as a setting than a cavernous warehouse or a festival stage open to
the stars.
The concept promised by the Polarity tour was a unification of ‘the two disparate elements of harsh and fragile’ in Hopkins’ music, and its (undoubtedly successful) execution makes for a singular, at times curious, but certainly memorable live experience. He moves between these two poles with remarkable fluency, though the quieter sections function better as a foil to the euphoria than as concert pieces in their own right, and whilst I couldn’t help but wish to be in a standing venue when he did really ratchet things up, watching a stiffly seated audience gradually disburden themselves of their collective inhibition was a unique form of shared catharsis. With the following European leg of the tour cancelled, it was fortunate that the gig happened at all, and it was probably the last live music anyone in the room would see for the unforeseeable future: how fitting, then, that it should embody in such extraordinary fashion the sort of communality of sensation that only the best concert experiences can inspire.
Everything is terrible right now. There seems little point in pretending otherwise. If you watch the news, you’re immediately sent into a spiral of existential fear and dread. If you don’t watch the news, you feel as if you’re neglecting a civic duty. Despite the inappropriately good weather, the national mood has never felt darker, with no end date to the government-announced lockdown in clear sight.
In Point Break, one of the many films I’ve watched since the arrival of COVID-19 with powerful undercurrents of gay subtext, Patrick Swayze delivers a line which truly resonates in these self-isolated times: “Fear causes hesitation. And hesitation will cause your worst fears to come true.” Swayze is right. We cannot allow fear to paralyse us into an unhappy state of continual inaction.
Hence the posts we’ve seen circulating on social media which suggest ways to avoid descending into madness of George III proportions. ‘Exercise once a day’, ‘Learn a new skill, ‘Start reading Proust’, etc. No doubt the sentiments behind these lists are well-intended, but often they can aggravate the sense of anxiety which they are designed to combat. You’re left with a nasty feeling that lockdown is something you can succeed or fail at – that you’re not doing it well unless you’re using this free time to learn Portuguese or master the oboe.
As an antidote to these guilt-inducing posts, here’s an alternative list – one consisting only of things NOT to do, activities which must be avoided at all costs. Because as we all know, it’s easier not to do something than it is to be proactive. I may not be a qualified psychologist, but if you follow these guidelines, I can guarantee with near certainty that you will quickly see results.
Tip 1: DON’T go on a health kick
I should qualify this. Obviously, your immune system is kind of important right now and exercise is to be encouraged. But equally, if there was ever a time to let yourself go a bit, it’s surely now. For example, I’m currently experimenting with alcoholism. Obviously, under normal circumstances I’d never entertain such a thing, but the three-week lockdown timeline outlined by the Prime Minister also functions as a controlled framework in which to try it out. Don’t be bullied by social media #inspo here: going for a run every day might make sense on one level, but isn’t it also obvious and unoriginal? Don’t be afraid to think outside the box.
Tip 2: DON’T start getting on with your family
Again, qualification is required here, as this won’t apply to everyone. For people quarantined alone and away from their families, my heart goes out to you. For people quarantined with their romantic partners, you have my unreserved bitterness. But if, like me, you’re stuck at home with family members, this advice is for you specifically. I cannot stress this enough – don’t allow yourself to establish positive relationships with ANY of your family members. Especially parents. Sure, it’s tempting to find ways of getting on with them for the sake of keeping the peace, but at university you’ve established a sense of independence and personhood. Don’t throw that away like it’s nothing. I’m not saying you can’t speak to them but do throw out the occasional vicious remark to let them know not to get too close.
Tip 3: DON’T get back in touch with an ex
Possibly the hardest one to achieve on this list. You’re bored. You’re lonely. Unless you’re lucky enough to be quarantined with a partner, you’re probably undersexed. In the haze of self-isolation, you stop thinking rationally, and so you start to rewrite history. Did he really cheat on me? Or was there just an unfortunate misunderstanding? No, he did cheat on you. However appealing they may suddenly appear, don’t let a global pandemic gaslight you into forgetting that it ended for a reason. No decisions you make in the next three weeks are likely to be good ones, so delete their number and avoid the temptation. If you’re looking for an alternative, go full-Betty Draper and find the nearest washing machine.
Tip 4: DON’T take up an eccentric hobby and let people know about it
To take a random example, if for some reason you come to the conclusion that you want to start making puppets, I’m not going to stop you. But if you then start a YouTube channel where you upload videos of the puppet shows you’ve directed using these puppets, that’s when a problem arises. Sometimes, the best kinds of hobbies are the ones you keep to yourself. This is especially true at times of crisis such as these. People have too much going on right now to support your clay making journey Karen. Don’t take it personally.
Tip 5: DON’T start making career moves
This last guideline is for the Oxford Careers Service. One horrifically tone-deaf email read: “Some of you may be using this time of reflection to think about your career development, and we are here to support you.” If you’re thinking about your “career development” at a time like this, you might want to take a long hard look in the nearest mirror. What kind of psychopath reacts to a global health crisis by thinking ‘Great, a much-needed chance to advance my employment prospects’? Although having said that, Oxford is a natural home to exactly this kind of dead-behind-the-eyes careerist drone. If you don’t know someone like this, it’s probably you.
Our CultCher and Life section editors have pooled their wide-ranging knowledge and have produced their picks for shows, albums, movies, books and lifestyle ideas to keep you entertained in these quarantine times, as well as some online resources to help you access culture remotely. We’ve ordered them by section, and tried to keep them varied – some are related to the sections they edit, some are their general personal picks – there should be enough here to keep you entertained through quarantine and beyond.
Culture
Trudy Ross
Whiplash
If you need a film to fuel your creative ambition during quarantine, look no further. Miles Teller plays Andrew, a talented young musician who will stop at nothing to reach his potential as a drummer, while JK Simmons acts as his ferocious and uncompromising teacher, Terence Fletcher. The tension in this film will leave you utterly exhausted by its climax, while at the same time filled with a sense of triumph and satisfaction. Nothing will convince you better of the merits of hard work, passion, and dedication.
Paterson
This is the perfect film to help you appreciate the little things in life, the beauty of the everyday, the ordinary. Adam Driver plays a poetry-writing bus driver and admirer of William Carlos Williams in the town of Paterson. We follow him about his daily routine, from his life at home with his beautiful wife Laura and their pet bulldog Marvin, to the conversations he overhears driving around town, to his own private poetry writing sessions. The film is quiet and unflashy, but also incredibly moving and optimistic. It encourages you to be thoughtful about the way you live, intentional in what you do, and appreciative of life’s smaller details.
Freaks and Geeks
It’s only one season so might not take up as much of your time as you’d like, but the 90’s high school comedy/drama is difficult for anyone not to love. The protagonist, Lindsay, sets out to shake off her reputation as top mathlete by hanging out with the stoner ‘freaks’ of the school, while her little brother Sam navigates the politics of high school life as a part of a ‘geek’ group. It creates a realistic and absorbing world of teenage joy and angst with a cast of loveable and relatable characters; it would be an impressive feat not to connect with the show in some way, or to avoid becoming emotionally invested in the lives of Lindsay, Sam, Nick, or Daniel. Plus, seeing stars like Jason Segel, James Franco, Linda Cardellini, and Seth Rogan kick start their careers is a treat for all of us.
George Ezra’s Staying at Tamara’s
This is a classic, and I’m sure everyone knows the words to ‘Shotgun’ and ‘Paradise’. But I recommend this album because it contains a few lesser known gems, like my personal favourite, ‘Sugarcoat’, or the tear inducing ‘Hold My Girl’. Plus, the album’s overall impact should be appreciated in addition to the characteristics of individual songs; listen to the full 37 minutes in one, and I promise it’ll leave you with a sense of contented peace and calm. George Ezra’s deep, reassuring voice and well-crafted lyrics cannot disappoint.
The Fratellis’ In Your Own Sweet Time
Okay so we’ve all heard ‘Chelsea Dagger’, but while this band’s mainstream success happened at least a decade ago, you shouldn’t dismiss their most recent album. In Your Own Sweet Time is pretty radically different from their debut, Costello Music, but it has a lot of strengths of its own. It’s upbeat and funky while still retaining a flair of originality. You can dance or chill out to these tracks, and they give you a sense of the exciting, free flowing life of a young person, something we’re probably all in need of these days. My favourite tracks are definitely ‘Indestructible’, the penultimate, empowering song, and ‘Sugartown’, which stands out because of its smooth, 1950s feel.
Zadie Smith’s White Teeth
Okay, so I actually got to reading this because, well, my tutor put it on the syllabus (English student). But it’s still definitely a favourite of mine; it explores race, class, religion, and more from a multitude of different perspectives. Core characters include Archie, a middle-aged British man who seems to embody the mediocre, Clara, his young Jamaican wife who escapes from her fanatically religious mother, Samad, a Bangladeshi war veteran with a crippled hand who is trying to encourage his twin sons to grow into his version of ‘good men’, and many, many more. I think Zadie Smith’s strongest point is her ability to really manifest pretty much any character, from any background in her work, and get you to empathise with them while at the same time understanding their flaws and biases. At over 500 pages it’s probably something you won’t devour too quickly, though Smith’s quick-witted and past-paced prose might mean you get to the fabulous twist ending before long.
Patrick Ness’ Chaos Walking trilogy
There’s nothing like a series to keep you going in times of boredom. This one includes three chunky volumes full of incredibly addictive plot and characters you can’t help but fall in love with. Set in the dystopian ‘New World’, an alien planet which has been recently colonised by people, we follow Todd as he makes an incredible journey away from his home, Prentisstown. The trilogy consists of The Knife of Never Letting Go, The Ask and the Answer, and Monsters of Men. There is far too much going on in these books to explain in one paragraph, but I can say that they explore themes of love, war, humanity, hatred, prejudice and more. They’ll leave you in tears on a few different occasions, and probably to question the nature of society and of people; this book is definitely relevant in these crazy, apocalyptic-seeming times.
Sarah Bakewell’s At the Existentialist Cafe
Definitely my favourite non-fiction book of all time. It’s a delightful mixture of philosophy and collective biography, reviving the ideas of freedom and authenticity put forward by French intellectuals of the 20th century, including Jean Paul Sartre, Simone De Beauvior, and Albert Camus. Bakewell explains some of the heftier, more challenging philosophical works of these existentialists in a witty and engaging way, meaning you absorb a great deal of complex and interesting ideas without having to wade through the dense prose of Neitzche or Heiddegger. She also recounts amusing anecdotes from these scholars’ often dramatic lives and complex interpersonal relationships. Funny and intelligent, entertaining and educational: there’s nothing not to love about this book.
Amanda Foreman’s Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire
While I’m not a massive fan of reading biographies in general, this one really captured me. It follows the life of a woman of the British aristocracy during the 18th century, giving the modern reader incredible insight into the place of the female as a public figure in the Georgian era. Georgiana Cavendish was a socialite, writer, political activist, and great style icon of her time; the sheer force of her personality can be clearly seen despite the limiting environment she was subject to, trapped within a painful marriage and a society which valued women only as a means of support for their husbands. It’s a pretty long read but not too tough going, so perfect for the coming months. Anyone with an interest in politics, history, women, and feminism will find this a truly fascinating read.
Kaira Mediratta
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Buffy the Vampire Slayer follows the life of Buffy Summers, a high schooler who attempts to live a normal life while simultaneously embracing her responsibilities and destiny as a “Slayer” of vampires and demons. Although I myself haven’t even watched all 7 seasons of Buffy, I’ve found those episodes that I have watched charming for just how ‘90s they are: from the corny special effects to the good old fashioned vampire drama. Perhaps now more than ever could we use a good escapist watch such as Buffy, where one can lose themselves in the occult lives of Sunnydale highschoolers.
Frances Ha
In light of Noah Baumbach and Greta Gerwig’s recent releases, this 2012 black and white film co-written by the pair is a sensitive and self-reflective journey that seems appropriate for this period of isolation, where many of us may find ourselves meditating on our own human experience. Frances Ha(lladay), played by Gerwig, is radiant in her portrayal of sheer authenticity and awkwardness – and the easygoing, French New Wave spirit of the film combined with the romance of New York produces a film which, although critiqued for its simplicity, is arguably exceptional for that same reason.
Tik Tok
In line with what Sofia wrote about TikTok, I’ll just say that I downloaded it as a joke – as everyone claims – during the summer of 2019 and the fact that I still haven’t deleted it must be some sort of testament to its impact, which is both scary and admirable. TikTok gets a lot of hate for being childish and mindless, but in defense of it, I’d posit that it provides a critical platform for teens and young adults to just exist, make things and have fun in the sort of space that hasn’t really existed since Tumblr. Arguments have even been made for TikTok being seen as a performance art of sorts, which of course couldn’t be said for the entirety of the platform but regardless is an interesting line of thought to pursue. With so much time on our hands lately, TikTok can be a dangerous black hole to get sucked into, but perhaps we should stop reproaching ourselves and just enjoy the platform for what it is – fun.
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
This was the first Murakami novel I ever read and is my favorite as well. Mysterious and unconventional, Murakami spins a world that is both encapsulating and transporting, making the reader feel as if caught in a labyrinth or dream – underneath the placid surface of Tokyo’s suburbs. Moments of the book had such a visceral effect on me that I would catch myself holding my breath, or nervous to even turn the page. A book such as this one, which envelopes the reader so completely and fully, is a rare experience. For those who are new to Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle is a perfect place to start.
Sofia Henderson
The Before Sunrise trilogy
Richard Linklater’s Before Sunrise trilogy follows the relationship between Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and Céline (Julie Delpy), two lovers who meet by chance on a train and Europe and decide to get off in Vienna to spend just one night together. Throughout the trilogy, the characters age in real time, with Before Sunrise releasing in 1995, Before Sunset in 2004 and Before Midnight in 2013, each nine years apart. It’s easy to get lost in the lives of these characters who seemed so defined by the time they live in, their dialogue stretching throughout each film in a way that never gets boring.
This Country
With the third and final series having recently been released, this honest look at the lives of young people in rural Britain is genuinely funny and largely underrated. Drawing on their own lives living in a village in the Cotswald, siblings Daisy May and Charlie Cooper play cousins Kerry and Kurtan Mucklowe in this mockumentary sitcom. Their deadpan delivery actually will make you laugh out loud, but also feel emotionally connected to their oddly heartwarming characters.
Tiktok
It’s mind-numbing, it’s strange and it shouldn’t really exist. But this is where society has led us to: Tiktok is now the pinnacle of culture. As Uni students entering our twenties, we can poke fun at Tiktok, laughing at how it’s dominated by fourteen-year-olds and weird dances made up of the same gestures, but in different orders. Yet scrolling through it is undeniably one of the most fun ways to spend your time when you’re practicing social isolating, while making weird videos with your family, following trends that keep on coming every three days or so, is a fantastic way to bond on a level you never knew possible.
Even though we can’t watch live theatre for the time being, theatre websites have not become redundant. This is a chance to look beyond the ‘buy tickets page’ and explore the many resources which have been available to us. The Almeida website is particularly exciting, hosting a wide range of resources from podcasts to written interviews across the whole production team.
Examples include interviews with directors Rebecca Frecknall and Robert Icke, to discussions with writers such as Rachel Cusk, Ella Hicks and Christopher Shinn. Topics discussed range from titles such as “Why Violence, Why Now?” to “On Naturalism” and “From Dionysos to Dawkins”. The website also has a written record of their ‘Talkback’ series, where on a selected night after a production the theatre holds a Q&A discussion between cast members and the audience. It is also worth keeping an eye on theatre websites as companies begin to expand their resource provision in the absence of live shows.
This is a resource which is available online through SOLO. As the website proclaims, it has an archive of over “2 million TV and Radio Broadcasts”, therefore there will certainly be something (even if not theatre related!) which you want to watch. For example, there is a recording of the 1979 Royal Court Theatre production of Happy Days directed by Samuel Beckett himself, or the more recent 2017 Almeida production of Hamlet which transferred to the West End. In all, a search on BOB on will definitely bring up something enticing.
This is a website where experts, across a wide range of fields, are interviewed and recommend a list of five books to read on a particular topic. Michael Billington offers up his list on ‘The best books on 20th Century Theatre’, Emma Smith gives a list on ‘Shakespeare’s Best Plays’ and Charles Isherwood recommends ‘The best books on Broadway’, to give a brief taste of some of the theatre related interviews on the website.
FILM
Gemma Robson
Oldboy
Park Chan-wook’s breakout hit follows a man who’s spent fifteen years of his life held captive in a windowless room. After he’s released under mysterious circumstances, he has five days to figure out the reason for his imprisonment. Dark, bloody and action-packed — Oldboy was a hit with international audiences, eventually winning a Grand Prix at Cannes. As one of the cornerstones of the Korean New Wave, it’s a great pick for those who enjoyed Parasite. Just steer clear of the American remake!
Paris, Texas
Opening with a man wandering aimlessly in the desert, director Wim Wender creates a touching narrative of loss and loneliness. The late Harry Dean Stanton stars as Travis Henderson, who returns to his family after a prolonged absence, and Nastassja Kinski gives a great supporting performance as his abandoned wife. With its melancholy atmosphere, dreamy soundtrack and beautiful shots of the American landscape, Paris, Texas is a slow-paced but rewarding watch. Keep your eyes peeled for the scene featuring Kinski’s iconic mohair jumper.
Safe
Julianne Moore stars as a disaffected housewife who’s struck down by a mysterious illness in this psychological drama. Director Todd Haynes manages to capture both the crushing boredom of suburbia and the horror of the inexplicable. Safe’s brilliance lies in its ambiguity: it offers little in the way of answers and leaves its viewers a quiet sense of dread. Is Carol’s escape to a new age healing retreat a route to emancipation or just another form of imprisonment? Watch and decide for yourself.
Silent Running
Directed by Douglas Trumbull as a reaction to Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey (for which he provided special effects), Silent Running is often overlooked by sci-fi fans. Yet for a film that can be boiled down to ‘Bruce Dern gardening alone on a space station’, it packs a surprising emotional punch. In a future where the earth’s ecosystem has been destroyed, Dern plays a botanist who fights to preserve the last remaining forest with nothing but three little robots for company. Despite its questionable science, it’s impossible not to be charmed by Silent Running. As moving as it is prescient, it’s a must watch for anyone looking for a good cry. Those in search of a more sinister film about a man alone in space should check out Douglas Jones’ Moon.
Groundhog Day
“What would you do if you were stuck in one place, and every day was exactly the same?”Sound familiar? In all seriousness, Groundhog Day is the perfect film to watch whilst you’re stuck at home. It’s about the importance of kindness and making the best out of a bad situation. Of course it’s also very funny, owing to Billy Murray’s comic timing and its sharp dialogue.
Sam Lapham
Black Sails
A criminally underrated Starz series that unfortunately aired parallel to Game of Thrones, which is why this swashbuckling masterpiece never garnered the popularity it was owed. I have no problems stating that this is quite possibly the best television show ever made: the character development is easily on par with that of Walter White or Tony Soprano, and it’s dialogue achieves levels of depth that even Shakespeare would struggle to imitate. A prequel to Treasure Island exploring the origins of Captain Flint and Long John Silver, this show is as much about internal isolation and conflict as it is about the suppression of piracy, and the series blends spectacle with quiet contemplation to truly monumental effect.
Bojack Horseman
I have to confess I restarted Bojack Horseman several times before it
became compulsive viewing for me. It’s one of those shows where you do have to
be in the right mood to appreciate its magnificence, otherwise you’ll spend the
runtime questioning why you’re watching a 2D animation about an alcoholic and
sex-driven steed. But Bojack is first and foremost a social commentary, a close
up look at a life of fame and artificial enjoyment that is used to expose the
isolation underlying his hollow existence. Truly tragic upon reflection, this
satirical exploration into fulfilment and depression boasts a juvenile
animation style that beautifully contrasts the maturity of its subject matter.
Marco Polo
Cancellation is a depressing
reality for any show, and is something that can occur regardless of a series’
quality. Marco Polo was one such
martyr, and remains one of Netflix’s forgotten gems that never got to realise
its full potential. Undeniably a financial gamble for the streaming service,
this period drama debuted in the early days of Netflix being an original
producer of content, andboasts
cinematography and set design that is truly indicative of the investment put
into this series. So much so that it should be a crime this lavish production
of political intrigue and imperial expansion only got two seasons. And while it
is hard to justify watching anything that is left incomplete, the slow build up
of relationships and political stakes never grow stale thanks to the cultural
immersion enabled by the score and visual engagement.
This Country
There is something tragic and yet
relentlessly hilarious about Kerry and Kurtan Mucklowe, the star protagonists
of the BBC mockumentary following the static and contained life of rural
communities. Isolated from the outside world, the events that transpire in this
sparsely populated village never transcend trivial intrusions, but the Cooper
siblings carry every scene with an innocent naivety and disputable logic that
make them at once sympathetic and laughable. Shining a light on a side of
Britain not too often exposed, this stereotyped but accurate insight into life
that never strays beyond its pastoral borders should act as a how-to-guide for
these upcoming months of entrapped idleness.
FASHION
Emmaleigh Eaves
Project Runway
This is the easiest thing to binge as it requires absolutely no brain power which is what we all want. Next in Fashion is of course great and I back it all the way but Project Runway is the real og competition show. I love watching it and judging some of the awful late noughties fashion and seeing Heidi Klum predict the future so utterly wrong; ’no one ever wants to wear something that makes their bum look bigger’- prepare to eat your own words Heidi.
Everything I Know About Love by Dolly Alderton
This is the book that everyone was telling everyone to read last summer, and if you haven’t already read it, seriously, read it. You will read this without realising how many pages you’ve read or how long you’ve been sitting there reading it. It will make you laugh so much as Dolly tells you the recipe to her perfect hangover cure or recalls the time she drunkenly spent hundreds of pounds on a taxi up the M1, yet she also expresses the difficulties of navigating your way from childhood to adulthood that everyone can relate to in some way. (It’s also perfect post-break-up reading material.)
Gossip Girl
People may say that Gossip Girl is trashy rubbish – ignore them. Whether you’ve never watched it or rewatched it 100 times, Gossip Girl never gets old. Aside from the tumultuous storyline, there are also so many iconic fashion moments that should not be missed, both good and bad: Blair at the station in Paris in her red Oscar De La Renta dress, her aggressively headbanded and ribboned minions sat on the MET steps, and Chuck Bass’ infamous scarf, to name but a few.
This isn’t a specific watch recommendation but if you haven’t already got it, get the Netflix Party extension from chrome, which allows you and your friends to watch the same thing at the same time with a chat alongside it. It’ll make anything you watch ten times better as all your friends rip into every element of the show.
BUBBA – KAYTRANADA
From start to finish this album will have you bopping around the house with a smile on your face, which is exactly what you need to avoid stagnating in isolation. Even better, start a Spotify Party and vibe to it at the same time as your friends- just because you can’t go out doesn’t mean you have to stop dancing.
Raphael Zyss
If one thing, Corona democratized our understanding of heroism. It went from wearing flamboyant tight suit and fighting civil wars with a double scotch « on the rock » in the hand, to sitting on the couch sending nasty looks to your flatmate because he’s about to open some sour cream and onion crisp of which you hate the smell but can’t open the window by fear of spreading the virus. It’s never been so easy to be a hero, stay at home ! Great ! Now that it’s been said and that you are slowly growing into your new epic skin, time passes, flies by, glares at you insolently, you do nothing but look at the watch and mimic silly Tiktok. You think of Hemingway, you think of Spiderman when he saved the old lady, you think of Lancelot and Arthur, and you can’t dare to look at yourself in the mirror. Yet, do not despair. Time is mischievous, but a solid cultural discipline could be game changing. You could come out of those few weeks having grown into some kind of new « cultural hero ». If you organize your time properly (which I have systematically failed so far, but it’s a journey) The movies, the readings, the ghost of great thinkers, artists and historic characters could be enlightening of greater humanity. Most importantly, with the heavy tunes the Cherwell team recommends, you might come out of your cave with some solid moves. Remember, there is no shame in giving it a boogie alone in your room, as long as no one sees you, so close the curtains.
Movies: So many great films to watch, so little time. March and April no doubt will be quite dry, so I’ve chosen three movies which offer compelling yet antagonist visions of desire, relationship, sexuality and human relations. All three pictures are truly visual experiences and promise intense few hours.
Eyes Wide Shut – Stanley Kubrik
Scenes from a marriage – Ingmar Bergman
Blue is the warmest colour – Abdellatif Kechiche
Books : I hope those few weeks will give me the opportunity to expose myself to a diversity of styles, genres and ideas. I find it very pleasant to alternate between reading plays and novels, more serious and more easy going texts. Hereunder a diversity of genre and content for all moods.
The Crucible – Arthur Miller
Death in Venice – Thomas Mann
Waiting for Godot – Samuel Beckett
Rickshaw Boy – Lao She
Music : Music for all atmospheres, from the greatest boogie-music of all time, to a relaxing nostalgic tune and of course the all-inspiring.
Jailhouse Rock – Elivs Presley
Sonate Pacifique – L’Imperatrice
Chelsea Hotel – Leonard Cohen
Ashley Cluer
All our lines of communication are now filled with the constant updating of the Corona virus threat and turmoil that we are all now facing. Have we reached the point of acceptance? No more social gatherings, no more pubs, bars, clubs or meals out… it’s time for self-isolation. What are the chances it would come at the end of such a tumultuous term at Oxford? What are the chances we would hear the advice from the government to stay in, settle down and quite honestly (if possible) find time to relax? But of course, before the boredom or your younger sibling kicks into your sanctuary, why not expand your fashion horizons? We must all now prepare for hibernation and with such secrecy prepare our bold come-backs once allowed out again. So, here are my top recommendations for a full-frontal Corona-virus-self-isolation makeover. To begin with, take a look at Vogue’s YouTube channel to check out various celebrities’ guides to different make-up trends. Order yourself a haul of beauty products and experiment away in order to dazzle at the next Corona-free bop.
The Devil Wears Prada
Once settled, confident and looking fabulous, why not sit down to enjoy the savage and downright hilarious cult classic for any aspiring fashionista.Despite it not being on Netflix, it’s a worthy splurge to spend 1 hour and 49 minutes in the presence of the one and only Meryl Streep.
Clueless
If you are in fact after a Netflix-friendly option, you can never go wrong with Clueless (1995), the birthplace of Cher’s wardrobe machine, ultimate 90s style and THE impetus to dress to impress.
#Girlboss
Talking trials, tribulations and supporting an underdog, why not Amazon yourself a New York Times bestseller #Girlboss (2014) written by the fashion mogul Sophia Amoruso about her ruthless climb to bring her brand Nasty Gal to the worldwide stage. Once you are feeling inspired by Amoruso and desperate to go back out and make your mark on the fashion world, why not read Wednesday Martin’s Primates of Park Avenue (2015). A memoir into the real lives of New York’s rich and fashionable elite – which if you’ve been missing the affluent fashion scene of gossip girl, is sure to not disappoint.
Queer Eye
To finish off what’s left of self-isolation it seems to me like the perfect time to fully tackle a good old makeover, and why not get inspired by re-watching all four seasons of Queer Eye (2018) which are assured to engross you for the 1,304 minutes run-time. Once Tan has successfully won your heart, you’ve made-over your entire family and feel like quite the expert, why don’t you turn your hand to judging the newest fashionistas in Next in Fashion starring, you guessed it, Tan France and Vogue’s Alexa Chung.
MUSIC
Lily Tidman
The Sunset Tree – The Mountain Goats
John Darnielle’s work always features a flavour of mania and a sense of being alone with your thoughts too long, and this album is no exception – written during an intense and traumatic period in the artist’s life, it has helped many people process difficult emotional and home situations through themes of escapism (Broom People) and survival despite the odds (This Year, Up the Wolves). Although we’re all trying to stay positive during the period of social distancing, it’s important to recognise that not everyone is lucky enough to have stable, safe living and financial situations. Whether you’re knuckling down on Vac work, going through a post-Valentine’s breakup or want something to inspire you to pick up your mum/brother’s old guitar that’s just lying around, this album will do it for you.
TL;DR/one-track rec: Up The Wolves
Isolation lyric: “and alone in my room, I am the last of a lost civilisation” – Hast Thou Considered the Tetrapod
Walking Like We Do – The Big Moon
Frontwoman Juliette Jackson has revealed on isolation-inspired Instagram stories that The Big Moon’s second album was heavily influenced by a feeling that the world couldn’t get any more surreal, and the frustration which came with that. This energy shines through in upbeat, poppy hooks and harmonies as well as darker, more introspective verses. Tracks like Your Light and A Hundred Ways to Land emphasise the importance of maintaining friendships in tough times, highlighting all the emotional ups and downs of the current situation as well as looking to the future with cautious optimism.
TL;DR/one-track rec: Barcelona
Isolation lyric: “I’m gonna start a religion, something to keep my hands busy / paint our angels on the ceiling, we need something to believe in” – Holy Roller
‘It’s Not Just Me’ – Let’s Eat Grandma
We’re all a bit in our feelings at the moment, whether that’s feeling sorry for ourselves missing out on pints and punting or genuine panic about the uncertainty of our financial/living situations over the coming months. As we all know, though it won’t end a pandemic, listening to music can be a good way to take your mind off things or wallow for a hot three-and-a-half minutes before going out and helping your elderly or self-isolating neighbours. This track, off the duo’s Q-Award-winning sophomore album I’m All Ears, is lyrically perfect for the first couple of weeks of social distancing.
Isolation lyric: “and just when we discover that we need each other here / our lives keep pulling us away / now we’re so unstable at the kitchen table / with these peanut bagels in a foreign state”
Alec Holt
Fôrça Bruta – Jorge Ben
Covid-19 has called off the warm-weather holiday plans you’d been looking forward to all term, confining you indoors instead. The sad reacts on your jokey Oxtickets post (‘Anyone fancy some flights to Italy?? It’s lovely at this time of year haha’) offer little by way of consolation. You’ve resorted to flicking mournfully through your pictures from last summer. Things are looking dire, but if you allow some Brazilian sun into your life you might just feel a bit better.
Jorge Ben is one of the more recognisable names in the history of Brazil’s music, a pioneer in the genres of Samba Rock and Tropicalia who has now been at it for the better part of six decades. He might be less of a household name overseas, but you’ve probably heard more of his work than you think, even if only the instantly recognisable ‘Mas Que Nada’. 1970’s Fôrça Bruta transports with such charm and with such a broad smile that it might make you forget about your isolation altogether, even if only for 40 infectiously upbeat minutes.
The guitarwork is intricate but free, Ben’s unique voice hits pitches of impassioned trilling, and that weird instrument that sounds a bit like an owl (it’s called a cuíca, if you’re interested) is an instant antidote to all the jittery fretfulness that can come with prolonged isolation. In turn life-affirming and thrilling, as on the title track and closer, pensive but eminently danceable (O Telefone Tocou Novamente), and gorgeously poignant, as on the longing Mulher Brasileira,Fôrça Bruta never ceases to feel sincere in its essence. It’s tender, utterly irresistible music, and its DNA is so unavoidably Brazilian that listening to it anywhere else really is an escape of the sort we so sorely need right now. A real holiday will have to wait, but Jorge Ben can offer us the next best thing.
Black Midi Live in the USA – Black Midi (via Bandcamp)
Prodigious genre-benders and beloved critical darlings Black Midi have just released over an hour’s worth of live performance audio from their recent tour of the US exclusively on their bandcamp, and it might just scratch that gig-going itch now that it’s looking unlikely we’ll be seeing any live music for the next few months. Featuring unreleased cuts and extended jams (Ducter, the closer to last year’s debut album, is stretched out to over 14 hypnotic, krautrock-y minutes), it’s an insight into one of the country’s most dynamic and essential live bands, offering an intriguingly warped take on their studio work. Frontman Geordie Greep’s idiosyncratic delivery acquires new dimensions of mania, and the math-rock freak-outs are rendered more screeching and chaotic than ever.
Cancelled tours are upsetting enough for us fans, but they also strip artists of their primary source of income at a time when streaming offers them only the most meagre scraps of revenue. With bandcamp having taken the decision to waive their cut from sales made on the platform in this trying time, all £3.49 (the price of an expensive coffee back in the days when we could leave the house) will go directly to the band themselves. Even if you’re not so gig-starved as to opt for a vicariously experienced live set, at least support an artist you love through bandcamp in some way: now, more than ever, it will be appreciated and will bring you closer to the music you care about.
I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside – Earl Sweatshirt
Maybe there’s no point trying to escape the isolation. Maybe we should all just accept that we’re in this for the long term and that our walls of the oppressive prisons we call our homes will keep on closing in on us. Maybe we should all just turn the lights out, draw the curtains, and wallow in the depressive storytelling of Earl’s bluntly titled I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside.
Many of us, no doubt, will find a time for this album at several points over the coming weeks and months, and a companion for our isolated, lonely selves in Earl Sweatshirt. The instrumentals are sparse and sombre, the rhymes up-front and unapologetic, confronting with deadpan cadences the realities of house-bound depression. You can lose yourself in the densely knitted gloom, but the album’s 30-minute runtime is short enough that it more naturally acts as a cathartic moment of emotional self-indulgence than as a soundtrack to your own reality. Put it on, feel sorry for yourself, and take comfort in hearing your feelings articulated for you.
A little over a week ago, we were in Oxford. Hilary term hadn’t ended. The days were getting warmer, lighter. And then, very quickly, it all changed. Now the present feels strange, unfamiliar, surreal. Haunting, in a way. The word ‘isolation’ has never felt so ordinary. However, through all of this swirling uncertainty, some things haven’t changed, and music is one of them. Art will alwaysbe that well-stocked supermarket of reflection and solace. Now, more than ever, is it worth exploring the aisles.
My first ‘isolation’ choice is Neil Young’s sixth studio album, On the Beach(1974). This album, written during a troubled period of the Canadian singer-songwriter’s life, is one of the most world-weary records I know. And yet, within Young’s rancour and inner torment, there is great comfort. The album reveals an artist trying to make sense of a confused situation. Whether it answers these fears—or further distorts them—is really up to the listener.
In the title track, Young’s reedy vocals express raw tiredness, disillusion. ‘The world is turning,’ he sings. ‘I hope it don’t turn away’. It is unclear as to whether the ‘beach’ is a place of comfort or of desolation. While a song like the impassioned ‘Revolution Blues’ conjures up an entire apocalypse, the deeply contemplative tracks, ‘Motion Pictures (For Carrie)’ and ‘Ambulance Blues’, temper such pain. By the end of the album, it is just the singer, playing on his own, uttering words in order to comfort his uneasy soul. ‘Back in the old folky days, the air was magic when we played…’ It still is.
( ), Sigur Rós (2002)
However, song lyrics can sometimes feel inadequate, insincere, unrelatable. In such an unprecedented time, it can be hard to cling on to words for comfort. We often need music—puremusic, anchored not by any earthly matters—to fill this space. To fill the void between the parentheses.
I think my second choice, Sigur Rós’s album ( )(2002), provides this solace. This is the Icelandic Post-Rock group’s fourth studio album, featuring eight songs, each one numbered and named ‘Untitled’. There are words here, but I do not know what any of them mean. Nor do I want to. This way, no meaning is prescribed, no response is fixed: it is entirely personal. The album’s strength lies in its slow, ever-evolving layers of sound. A track like ‘Untitled #3 – Samskeyti’ rewards patience, as the repeated piano line slowly constructs a crumblinh mosaic of sound. Or, in the evocative ‘Untitled #4 – Njósnavélin’, hear how the falsetto vocals fall and rise, blissful and uncaring.
This album is unapologetically spacious and expansive, and each time I listen to it, it feels new again. Fresh meanings fall so easily upon each ambiguous track. Listen to it and drift. Allow each wandering thought to be held within those two brackets.
Joplin: Piano Rags, Vol. 1, Alexander Peskanov (2004)
Finally, it is so important that we don’t sink into misery and squalor. While this period of isolation is far from ideal, it is unquestionably the best measure. Find something soul-affirming. No one is alone, regardless of how ‘isolating’ things may become.
Well, for me, I love Scott Joplin’s rags. He has to be my third choice. The recording I’ve chosen embodies all the possible joy, charm and comfort that can be expressed by one individual, sitting at a piano on their own. Joplin’s entire œuvre is one of the most wonderful, calming set of compositions that I can think of, and I’d encourage anyone to delve deep into his work. For now, however, this recording will suffice. It features all the familiar pieces, ‘Maple Leaf Rag’ and ‘The Entertainer’, as well as some less familiar, but equally lyrical, rags, such as ‘Fig Leaf’ and ‘The Easy Winners’. Ragtime will keep us calm.
There are two pieces that I’d like to draw attention to particularly. The final track of the recording, ‘Bethena’, is a heart-warming concert piece that gently waltzes along, while seven whole minutes pass blissfully unnoticed. And, if you require further relaxation, the calming, lilting piece ‘Solace’ is appropriately named. I cherish this piano piece a lot. So, despite what we’re all going through, comfort and reassurance can be found, wherever we may choose to look—andlisten.
BOOKS
Jess Curry
Reading Lolita in Tehran – Azar Nafisi
Subtitled ‘A Memoir in Books’, this memoir uses books as a lens to give a sophisticated treatment to one professor’s experience of the Iranian regime following the 1979 Revolution. ‘Lolita’ becomes a provocative metaphor for the state’s treatment of women; like Humbert, the state imposes its ‘dream upon our reality, turning us into figments of his imagination’. But Nafisi celebrates that ability to apply universals expressed in literature to particulars, and doesn’t suggest, for example, that the dangers of pride and prejudice, explored in the section ‘Austen’, are unique to fundamentalism. Whilst the text has been ascribed agendas from orientalism to elitism, it is uncontentious to say that it is a love letter to literature and the power that books give to even the most seemingly disempowered voices.
War Music – Christopher Logue
A rebuke to anyone who says that a background in Ancient Languages is required to engage with Classics; Logue, who had no education in Ancient Greek, provides us with not a translation but ‘an account’ of certain books of the Iliad – the first great work of Western literature. To do so he consults a number of respected translations, along with a word-for-word crib sheet, switching Homeric stylistic features for a loose modernist finish, peppered with anachronisms and colloquial language. A powerful treatment of morality and mortality, it is all the more poignant for being unfinished due to the author’s own passing.
Cloud Atlas – David Mitchell
The audiobook to this one made me cry at work (would absolutely recommend the audible edition, although be careful where you listen to it). Cloud Atlas is the jewel in the dazzling universe of subtly inter-connected novels that David Mitchell has produced. In it, he plays with the structure of the novel, giving us an elegant russian doll of five stories, seemingly disparate in genre, style and content. Each is interrupted halfway by the next before being completed in mirror order in the second half of the novel. But in a humanist conceit, a birthmark designates a recurring soul in each tale, from a 19th century lawyer crossing the Pacific to a post-civilisation, post-language tribesmen after the fall of society as we know it. ‘Cloud Atlas’ asks us for what kind of order we can look for in the universe, and within that there is a powerful rejection of greed and cynicism in favour of empathy and humanity. It’s no surprise that Mitchell’s most recent book finished with a decidedly environmentally-conscious twist.
Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh
For me, the ultimate ‘dreaming spires’ fiction – although only really featured in the first third of the novel, Waugh constructs an intoxicating picture of Oxford that sometimes I still find more real than my experiences at university today. Chock-a-block with homo-eroticism, fine art and catholic guilt, the narrative, while framed by the Second World War, deals with the decline of the English aristocracy with a perhaps too uncritical nostalgia. The reader, like wallflower narrator Charles Ryder, is swept up in the charm of it all, until they are rudely spat out again as the perfect image starts to dissolve.
The God of Small Things – Arundhati Roy
‘The God of Small Things’ deals with complex issues around the caste system through the eyes of young fraternal twins, whose innocence is ultimately destroyed by the laws which enforce ‘who should be loved and how. And how much’. This is a ‘sweet and heartbreaking’ novel which, much like the classic love stories, thunders towards an inevitable tragic ending whilst the reader helplessly wishes it away. The state of Kerala is evocatively painted throughout, providing a rich backdrop to the drama.
Catch 22 – Joseph Heller
‘“There was only one catch and that was Catch-22… Orr was crazy and could be grounded. All he had to do was ask; and as soon as he did, he would no longer be crazy and would have to fly more missions…’ Catch 22 presents the absurdity of the war through the experience of one put upon pilot as he races to fulfil his flight quota as it is raised to elude him. A truly fantastic combination of the tragic and the farcical, full of witty paradoxes and striking scenes that stand alone to be remembered past the narrative itself – it’s some catch, that catch 22 – the best there is.
Oranges are not the only fruit – Jeanette Winterson
Finishing with another (semi) memoir that celebrates the power of books, ‘Oranges are Not the Only Fruit’ charts the transition from youth to adulthood of a lesbian girl growing up in a working-class, evangelist community. It’s witty, moving, and in moments, deeply sad and its central theme of the rejection of single-mindedness is transcendent outwith Winterson’s personal journey. Again, it is the protagonist’s relationship with reading which ultimately empowers and liberates her.
Yii-Jen Deng
We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson
“I wondered whether I would have chosen differently if I had known that these were the last books, the ones which would stand forever on our kitchen shelf” – haunting words for all book-lovers, as the prospect of lockdown looms before us! We Have Always Lived in the Castle tells of two sisters, Merricat and Constance, who remain confined to their house with their elderly Uncle Julian. Constance does the gardening, cleaning, and cooking while Uncle Julian writes or dozes, and only the quasi-magical Merricat is able to venture out into a hostile village that suspects a murderess in their midst. As we too retreat into self-isolation like the Blackwood sisters, this dark and almost fairy-tale little book makes for an eerily sympathetic reading.
The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham
If Jackson’s Castle speaks to our domestic confinement – no new people, find hobbies at home, only go out briefly for supplies – John Wyndham’s apocalyptic The Day of the Triffids resonates in its depiction of a mysterious global threat… albeit in the form of blinding comets and man-eating triffid plants that can walk. Wyndham’s deserted London with its looted shops empty of food emblematizes our worst fears, especially after the plague breaks out and our hero Bill struggles to survive. Nevertheless, there is something comforting about contemplating the awful triffids while safe at home in our own triffid-less world… isn’t there?
Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky
How not to spend self-isolation – the bitter, unnamed narrator of Notes from Underground torments himself with existentialist questions and plans for petty revenge. ‘No, I refuse to consult a doctor out of spite,’ he declares, furiously going on to punish a stranger for shoving him, humiliate a prostitute, and challenge ideological efforts towards constructing a utopian society. Claustrophobic, mad, and terribly fascinating, this relatively slim volume is an excellent introduction to the intense psychological portraits of Dostoevsky.
The Summer Book by Tove Jansson
On a lighter, brighter, sunnier note! Tove Jansson, known for her Moomins, gives us a charmed portrayal of isolation on an island where a six-year-old girl and her grandmother pass the summer. A lovely escapist read that wonderfully evokes the gentle yet merciless beauty of nature. Death is not dark in Jansson’s book; in the pretty flowering garden Sophie asks her grandmother, ‘When are you going to die?’ The old lady retorts ‘Soon. But that is not the least concern of yours.’ A subtle exploration of the relationship between young and old, as well as the courage in small acts of kindness – true to its title, the writing shines.
The Lady and the Little Fox Fur by Violette Leduc – (link to Lullaby)
With Leduc’s starving protagonist, who is ‘handling her sixtieth year as lightly as we touch the lint when dressing a wound’, we uncover an elegant, desperate heroine for whom the faded fox fur she finds in a bin can mean a strange salvation. She is a flâneur with an alluring mix of vibrance and pathos as she plunges hungrily into the busy Parisian life around her. The Paris described by Leduc is now in lockdown, as are many other places across the world, but for the poverty-stricken woman who feels invisible in the great city, isolation began long before. Even so, her dreams weave a sense of triumphant power, that leaves behind a note of perfume and hope.
I won’t lie, it was difficult not to draw this whole list from my new favourite website. Yet I’ve identified the footshake dance (‘Oh nanana… Oh nanana’) to be a great way not only of having a bit of sibling bonding, but also an excellent move to have stashed away in your arsenal come the next rogue Fever Tuesday (what I’d do to get those velvet walls back). I won’t repeat the tirade of expletives that met my suggestion to the Adidas-clad 18-year-old I share parents with –he’s desperate for Trinity to go ahead almost as much as I am– but that doesn’t mean yours won’t be up for this nugget of fun! Give it a whirl. Many tutorial videos available, however my personal favourite takes me back to my Italian roots, and should bring a bit of Mediterranean flair to your living room!
Heroes don’t always wear capes. This one is wearing Tala and used to frequent the Rad Cam– it’s Peters’ finest, Grace Beverley. Yes I did see her in Five Guys on a magical night last year, yes I did press my hands against the glass and let tears openly roll down my cheeks, yes I did transcend. But we move– her fitness app shreddy brings us a 14-day challenge so you too can smash those vac fitness goals, starting from Monday 23rdMarch. Completely FREE with no enrolment form or fee. Intersperse with scrolling through her Oxford mems – how did she make sub fusc look so nonchalant during finals I will never know.
Upon locking eyes with an age 13 Next sequined tank top (hot pink. Imagine. Rancid) the other day, my first thought surprisingly wasn’t, ‘You know what this would bang on depop.’ But it did make me think– surely, shirley, some of the crap I’ve collected over the years might have the capacity to be loved again, especially that lurid green Hollister sweater circa 2012 (tasty). Let’s be honest with ourselves, we all have that Ikea bag full of intense adolescent garms which we’ve pushed to the back of our minds since coming up to Ox. The excuse ‘it might be good for a bop’ is wearing thin. It never has, and, as a mate, it quite frankly it never will. Now, I don’t want to give any sort of illusion here, my 2010s Somerset fashion would definitely stand out at Gloucester Green, and not in a good way; but if I can find a buyer out there, literally anyone can. Do a little photoshoot, go crazy! Rope in your family members! You can finally sleep easy knowing that someone, somewhere is enjoying that saucy little piece of lemon M&S knitwear. Mmmmm
Couldn’t help but get some access in there. You’re a second year– or a finalist/ fresher who cba. Oh for the days of colour-coding a diagram of the heart, of doing mind maps about George and Lennie’s character motivations (but what is the significance of the rabbits??), of creating a mammoth yet futile poster to truly track medicine through time. But wait! Those times are gone, but not forgotten! In light of recent school closures, Oxford charity Schools+ are helping schools, parents and children in Oxford City, especially those in disadvantaged areas. If you’re keen to make online teaching content, provide 1-1 online tutoring support, and share fun and educational games for young children to help them and their families cope with social distancing, check out their Facebook. I would highly highly recommend this wonderful organisation <333
Niche knowledge
(The phrase scraping the barrel comes to mind, but I had to do 5. Cut me some slack)
It’s 1am; you’re not tired, but your sibling has pissed on your TikTok parade, you can’t be arsed to find your Gym Shark leggings (40 quid I’ll never get back), taking pictures of your clothes is an effort and tutoring cannot be effective at this ungodly hour. Against my will, I found myself watching a 2-hour Diego Maradona documentary last night with my dad: ‘god it takes you back, doesn’t it??’– but Italo, I wasn’t in Hastings in 1987. I obviously resumed Made in Chelsea as soon as it was over (apparently Binky’s back this season?!?!?), but I did actually enjoy it. Not just the excellent display of haircuts and earrings, but learning about something completely different– even if it was Argentinian football. I’d recommend Asif Kapadia’s work in general– Senna(2010) traces the life and untimely death of the Brazilian motor-racing champion. Take the plunge about something new that’s not confined to SOLO– why not! Also, quite good formal chat fodder – I can’t wait to whip out ‘Well of course during Italia ’90, Maradona was quite a divisive figure for Neapolitans’ over an underwhelming beetroot upon beetroot starter – a Keble classic.
Stay safe team, we’ll see you all very soon (why not write for Cherwell over the vac?!). In the meantime, check in on your mates, and wash your hands.
David Tritsch
Meditation
Self-Isolation can cause psychological distress, so practicing active mindfulness is more important than ever. Contrary to what some may believe, meditation is not inherently religious and can be a great way of becoming aware of your thoughts and surroundings. You can use meditation exercises to wake up, to fall asleep or to recharge for the rest of the day – just like physical exercise, you’ll soon be able to choose your own level of intensity.
Some great apps to practice meditation include Headspace, Calm, Insight Timer and Smiling Mind.
Coding
Nowadays, there are very few career paths in which you won’t massively benefit from some basic coding skills. Coding can seem intimidating, especially if you (like myself) study a non-STEM subject. But even to aspiring historians, journalists and teachers, learning some basic website programming can be a worthwhile investment. Want to build your own app? Have a look at some JavaScript lessons and soon you’ll ask yourself why someone invented Flappy Bird before you. All you need is a computer and an internet connection, giving you access to thousands of free tutorials and guides online.
Great resources for learning how to code are Codeacademy, Coursera, freeCodeCamp and MITOpenCourseware.
Write a letter
Especially in times like these, it is important to focus on the people we care about. But even though you might be talking to someone on a daily basis, it can sometimes feel like many things are being left unsaid. Writing a letter is an opportunity to take as much time as you like to formulate the things you never had time to say. You can even write a letter to your former or future self – don’t exclude yourself from the list of people close to your heart. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to deliver the letter; just the writing process can be so therapeutic!
Learn how to dance
have you ever really gone to bridge and not embarrassed yourself on the dance floor? What felt perfectly coordinated and on-beat to you after four shots of Tequila would make sober you gouge your eyes out. But there’s hope: lots of online resources are waiting to teach you how to dance – for free. Youtube channels such as 1Million Dance Studio or Dancercise Studio teach a variety of styles and you can spend all that time in self-isolation practicing without feeling embarrassed. If you want to take it up notch and learn a specific style, many dance studio choreographers teach their favourite styles on their private channels. This is the time to invest in your sesh repertoire!
Alice Peat
Try that ‘thing’
At risk of channelling my inner basic white girl, allow me take a meaningful quote as inspiration for my top self-isolation picks. As C.S. Lewis wisely said, “You never know what you can do until you try”. Now’s the time to dig out those endless lists of new years’ resolutions, abandoned more quickly than your hopes of getting your collections back before sixth week. All those times you wistfully considered trying something new whilst refusing to move further than the comfort of bed to rewatch The Office again are now in the past. In other words, it’s about time to try that thing you were always meaning to do, but found some excuse to get out of.
If your burning passion has always been to learn how to do origami (before you roll your eyes, when I was snowed in for three days in the depths of the North, I discovered that it’s both surprisingly therapeutic and surprisingly difficult), there are plenty of Youtube videos which will teach you more basic skills. Before you know it, you’ll be able to fold napkins into swans and dragons, a valuable commodity should you ever wish to distract everyone sitting near you in the library. Start your origami career with a simple-enough bird:
DIY self-care
Being trapped in a place which isn’t your college library for days in end means there’s never been a better time to practice self care. Don’t fall into the trap of just whipping Yankee candles you got for Christmas 2015 and watching a badly made rom-com, however: extraordinary times call for creative measures. Craving the comforting glow of a face mask (the overpriced variety you find in Boots, rather than the protective item worn by doctors)? Now’s the time to follow the advice of those teen magazines whose every word you used to take as gospel truth. Humanities students, this might be the closest you ever get to reliving the pure unadulterated joy of GCSE science experiments again.
Have a browse of face mask recipes. Though matcha green tea powder may be a little tricky to source unless you fancy foraying into the world of online health shops, most of the other ingredients can be found waiting in the fridge door, just begging to be used.
Let’s face it, who doesn’t love the idea of being an undiscovered Picasso? There’s no time like the present to let your creative juices flow and let your artistic side flourish. Who knows, what you create now could be exhibited in the Tate in ten years time as an example of “modern art”. For those of you, who, like me, were turned down from having their work shown on the Art attack submissions wall (it still hurts today), it’s time to plaster up the wound and show Neil Buchanan who the real artist here is. If freestyle paint chucking in your back garden doesn’t quite tickle your creative fancy, there’s plenty of other ways release your inner Michelangelo.
You can’t go wrong with a Bob Ross tutorial: there’s nowhere I’d rather spend my afternoons than listening to his dulcet tones describe how to paint the misty foothills.
For those who would like to bring a little more structure and control to their days, try starting a bullet journal. Try following some accounts on Instagram for some inspiration (my faves are from the original @bulletjournal and @boho.berry). Brighten up your feeds with these, and try your own.
Learn a language
As much as I try and resist getting too frustrated with finer points of Italian grammar (the imperfect subjunctive, I’m looking at you), there isn’t a day which goes by when I don’t wish I could learn Latin to see why we have all these ridiculous rules to start with. Forgive me for going off on a linguist tangent, but learning a new language opens up a whole new culture. *Insert another motivational quote re language learning here*. You might not be that bothered about how to construct a ‘se’ clause right now, but learning Italian would open up a whole new range of Netflix bingeing opportunities* and a chance to flex your new skills in Rome’s finest gelaterias. The infamous Duolingo owl is as passive aggressive as he is motivating: in this time of quarantine, he might be the only thing which motivates you to keep ploughing on with learning the irregular verbs. There are also plenty of great “teach yourself” books and online guides for every language under the sun: I particularly recommend the Wiley self teaching guides.
*Add BABY to your list on Netflix. You can thank me later.
If you’ve got this far, congratulations, and happy reading, watching and every things else that might cover the numerous activities on the list! Still out of ideas? Cherwell is always open for your pitches, and commissions are happening all through the vac; find out more here.
Proposition: A friendship sixty thousand years in the making – Jasper Evans, Lady Margaret Hall
This morning I took my dog Gustavo (Gus, to his friends) for a walk. As we enjoyed our government-mandated thirty minutes of exercise he began to sniff. He slowed, padded gracefully towards a wall and stopped. For ten seconds of leg shaking, hard-squeezing silence we kept eye contact before he stood back up again. He looked at me, and then back at his turd. And as I went to pick up the brown monstrosity, I thought to myself: ‘what is this, if not true friendship?’
For the relationship between dog and man is truly one of the most special in this usually alienating world. While less complex than relationships between humans, it is purer, unadulterated love. It is the love of best friends. Unlike a human, a dog won’t love you for clout, won’t hang around you to meet other people, won’t like you until you’re uncool. As shown by the loyalty of dogs to those even in the direst of circumstances, dogs don’t even stay with you for food. They are the Forest Gump of friends: dumb, kind and loyal until the end.
And unlike other friends, dogs provide great value for friendship. Never have I seen my mate sniff the air and tell me blood sugar was low. Nor have I seen a friend rip a man’s arm off with his teeth for breaking into my house (although, now that I think about it, that would lead me to reconsider my friendship). As shown by dogs that work in the police, they can easily detect drugs in the air, and yet you would never fear your humble hound selling you out to the police. As friends go, dogs are remarkably useful.
So, dogs are clearly good friends, but can they really be rewarded the title of man’s best friend? It is, undoubtedly, a hotly contested throne. Cats would seem the most obvious rival, but their imperious, elitist stare must eliminate them. A cat wouldn’t tell you if your blood sugar was low, even if it knew. It would slowly purr as you struggled to find the medication it had knocked off the table, then escape via the tiny door it insisted you put in. Hamsters and Guinea pigs seem inferior in terms of conversation. Dogs truly seem to (albeit unsuccessfully) attempt to grasp what you say to them, like someone who’s just passed their GCSE in Spanish trying to listen to a real conversation. Rodents only stare at a noise. Fish are too wet, birds are always high, and snakes are, well, snakes. It seems there is no clear competition.
It simply boils down to the fact that dogs have a sixty-thousand-year advantage hard-wired into their blood. Dogs are the only animals that have evolved with us. Together we’ve seen through ice ages and Neanderthals, the saber-toothed tigers and the woolly mammoth. Dogs were there for it all, and it shows. They are not man’s best friend by chance, but by evolution. Millenia of selective breeding to create the cutest, most loving, most friendly beings imaginable. No other friend of yours, no matter how fun, is going to make up for that.
Opposition: Not fun friends, but flimsy family – William McCathie, The Queen’s College
What is it to be a friend? Ask this of Google, and you will be given the following: “a person with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically one exclusive of sexual or family relations”. Based on this, all I would need to do to disprove that dogs are ‘man’s best friend’ would be to declare that to be a person you have to be a human, and that dogs are not humans. However, I doubt either you, dear reader, or my opponent here would be very satisfied with that, as you would likely not want to discount the possibility of friendship with non-humans. It is tempting to say, then, that because you know you love your dog, and your dog clearly seems to love you, that we are all best friends with our dogs. However, I believe that far from being ‘man’s best friend’, our relationship with dogs hardly resembles friendship at all.
We’ve been around dogs a long time – we domesticated them from the world for our own purposes a long time ago and have since settled into a symbiotic relationship: dogs provide us with services, and we provide them with food. This doesn’t mean we are friends, however, any more than we are friends with our gut bacteria. Indeed, the dog’s most common modern employment, as a companion, is a relatively recent invention. Wikipedia notes that most references to dogs written before the 18th century depict them more as vicious or watchful than as a friend. If you are tempted to say dogs are ‘man’s best friend’ on the basis of them having been mankind’s cuddly companions for a very long time, you are likely mistaken.
If dogs are to hold any relation to us, it is not that of friend, but of family. Now appealing to my earlier definition, your family are distinct from your friends. When you adopt/buy a dog, you are taking on a duty, similar to a duty to one’s child. No matter the circumstances, personality, needs or any host of other changing factors, you have a duty to family that holds equally true towards your dog. This is notably absent in mere friendships – friends are self-sufficient and of equal status. Dogs are (to put it bluntly) needy, furry slaves.
Their understanding of language is limited, at best, but we nevertheless try hard to teach them commands, and chastise them for their confused disobedience. Think about this from the dog’s perspective – a well-trained dog will view its owner as master, as an alpha of distinctly higher status. Studies show that they will purposely misdirect you from food if you do not have a history of sharing snacks with them. While showing deference under the eyes of their superiors, outside of observation they get only what they can for themselves.
If you still need a cuddly, cute and soft little animal to leech off your food and be your friend, I direct you no further than the cat – an animal that certainly does not see you as superior. You can train it to poo in one place, it’s properly independent, and as a litany of internet videos can show you, whilst dogs are very boring and do little other than wait whilst the humans are away, cats get up to their own fascinating shenanigans. Like a real friend, cats can live for themselves, and won’t hesitate to abandon you if abused.
When living in Oxford and struck with a need to get away from the stress of work, one of the loveliest ways to clear your head is to walk around the Ashmolean Museum. However, that is no longer possible – we’ve all been consigned to our homes and uninspiring childhood bedrooms. But the museum has come up with a clever way to keep people engaged, a way to pass the time while we wait for our lives to return to normal.
#IsolationCreations is a project which allows the public to engage creatively with the Ashmolean collection while social distancing. Every day, the Ashmolean share an object from their collection via their Twitter, Instagram and Facebook and invite anyone to reply or tag them with their creative responses, whether they be drawings, paintings, poems, interpretative dance, baked goods, or anything else that may come to mind.
The Ashmolean hopes that “by encouraging small moments of creativity in the day, we can help to bring something calm, positive and distracting to the public”. Not only does the project make the museum’s fascinating objects accessible to all of us via our phones or laptops, it opens up a new way for us to engage with both art and the past: the creative process involves reflection, inspiration, and collaboration. It’s a way to focus our minds away from the quiet chaos of the outside world.
In being forced to spend time at home doing absolutely nothing, many of us have felt an anxious need to be busy or to prove our worth by being productive. Engaging with art and culture in such an open and non-critical way can allow us to break out of this anxiety, and to create just because we want to, rather than for any wider purpose.
Cherwell encourages any students who have participated in #IsolationCreations to share their work. We welcome submissions at [email protected].
While many non-essential workers are now working from home,
and therefore enjoy a guaranteed source of income, those employed in the
hospitality sector are afforded no such privileges. The restaurant industry has
taken a brutal hit over the last weeks; both high-street chains and small
family-owned eateries have been left floundering, and support from the
government is lacklustre at best.
Data provided by reservation service company Opentable
offers an indication of the sheer scale of the problem. Even in countries where
lockdown measures are yet to be officially imposed – the USA and Sweden for
example – weekly bookings are down by as much as 90%.
The introduction last week of full lockdown measures here in the UK may have come as no surprise, but they nonetheless left restaurants scrambling to adapt their business models. Some have shut their doors entirely in an attempt to protect staff and customers, but the vast majority have turned to delivery-based operations to claw back lost revenue.
And it seems that our government is keen to support this
transition. After all, the benefits of home delivery are twofold, acting as a
lifeline for small businesses in particular whilst simultaneously making it
easier for the elderly and the sick to get hold of meals.
Although many restaurateurs felt left out in the cold
following Sunak’s initial attempt to support the hospitality industry, hastily announced
changes to planning permission regulations were easier for them to swallow.
Under the reformed rules, businesses hoping to register with delivery providers
like Deliveroo and UberEats are no longer obliged to submit a change-of-use
application, meaning the transition can happen pretty much overnight.
Although exact statistics have not been released, thousands
of new restaurants have registered with third party delivery providers over the
last fortnight. Historically this move required a sign-on fee typically sitting in the realm
of £300 to £500, though Deliveroo and UberEats have sweetened the deal by
agreeing for this to be temporarily waived.
But ultimately, third party delivery services have never – and probably will never – offer a reliable source of income, particularly for smaller businesses. Commission charges per order are still very much present and typically average around 30% of total order value. In other words a huge chunk of profit is whisked away from under the restaurant’s nose by a middleman who fills the gap between kitchen and consumer.
Even aside from these problems it’s a trying time for the delivery companies themselves. Speaking to the Financial Times, an unnamed food delivery executive admitted that “Volumes are down quite substantially… Consumers are super scared.” Social distancing and health worries have led to a huge surge in home cooking and the recent closures of delivery stalwarts McDonalds and Wagamama came as a huge blow.
Putting restaurant closures aside for a moment, it is
crucial to remember that the efficacy of these food delivery networks depends
entirely on the riders and drivers actually out on the streets keeping the cogs
turning. Historically, delivery companies have had tenuous relationships with
these ‘self-employed’ workers who have once again found themselves with little
to no support in a time of crisis.
The so-called ‘hardship fund’ announced last week by
Deliveroo was lambasted by riders who exposed the ridiculous fine print behind
the seemingly generous measures. Whilst the company claimed to be making
financial support available to symptomatic workers who were forced to cancel
shifts, it rapidly emerged that they would only provide sick pay when shown
evidence of a positive COVID-19 test – an impossible task for the vast majority
of the population.
I occasionally ride for food delivery companies during the
vac, and a quick glance at the local Whatsapp group gives feel for the current
mood. Behind the nonchalance and the banter, many riders are genuinely worried
about infection, and almost all are frustrated and angry at the lack of support
from employers. It’s a dangerous cocktail of emotions; these services will
become increasingly stretched as more and more workers are forced to
self-isolate, and in the current climate a rider-led strike would be hugely
disruptive not only for the delivery companies themselves, but crucially for
the thousands of restaurants which are now completely reliant on the service
they provide.
The food and drink companies best placed to weather the current storm are those who are opting to adapt, rather than simply transferring operations to home delivery services. Iffley-based bakery Hamblin has launched a baking scheme which sees fresh bread and buns hand delivered to local residents, all of which is coordinated via their Instagram account. Avoiding third-party delivery providers maximises profit and adheres to their ethos of small supply chains and community engagement.
Other businesses have chosen to promote their takeaway
elements whilst staying clear of third party companies; pubs and breweries
across the country are now offering a McDonalds style ‘drive-thru’ service for
example, though whether or not this can be justified as essential travel
remains open for debate. And we are increasingly seeing companies leverage the
power of the internet with imaginative digital solutions. For example, Beer
behemoth Brewdog have launched a series of online tasting sessions for IPA
aficionados, and numerous restaurants are offering exclusive online cookery
consultations with award-winning chefs.
Regardless of the measures they take to survive the
pandemic, restaurants and food and drink producers are going to take a huge
financial hit. But high-street chains will surely emerge stronger than local
businesses who operate on a far smaller scale, and we have a responsibility as
consumers to ensure that we think about where our money goes over the next few
weeks. Now, more than ever, it is time to support small businesses directly. The
temptation to reach for the phone and order a Deliveroo takeout is now
paramount but, if at all possible, food should be collected in person. Cutting
out the middleman is a small gesture but the financial implications are huge;
restaurants struggle to turn a profit with home delivery even before accounting
for the recent reduction in order volume. So why not sign up for an online beer
tasting, or pay for a pasta making lesson over Skype? What could be better than
picking up new skills whilst supporting restaurants during a time of hardship?
Confronted with an indefinite period of self-isolation, many of us are broaching the question of how to occupy ourselves over the coming weeks. This peacetime challenge to ‘normality’ is unprecedented; we have been forced – many of us for the first time – to operate outside the sphere of daily routine. With educational institutions suspended, the leisure industry closed, and work cancelled for many, the only choice is to remain in our homes.
Such an environment may appear antithetical to the growth of art and survival of culture. Art Basel, one of the biggest international art fairs, was due to take place in Hong Kong on the 17th March; it has now been cancelled and adapted, as far as possible, to an online format. Many of the largest and most profitable events keeping the global arts market afloat have followed suit, including the Cannes Film Festival and the Met Gala. In the UK, the implementation of more rigid containment policies has led to the closing of the Royal Opera House, the Tate Galleries, and the cancellation of Glastonbury Festival, amongst numerous other casualties. Across the globe, many theatres, opera-houses, and other arts-based institutions have been seriously threatened by a decrease in commerce in the weeks preceding their official closure by government regulation. How, then, can culture survive a pandemic?
In these circumstances, many have found their daily lives become increasingly dependent upon and centred around various art forms: books, music, film, and television are the most common examples. In this respect, the COVID-19 pandemic has significantly reshaped notions of ‘culture’ as a previously inaccessible and elitist domain. Popular opinion previously conceptualised art as requiring a certain level of cultural capital; for many, ‘art’ or ‘culture’ was synonymous with pretentious art exhibitions and incomprehensible operas, which have little tangible bearing on day-to-day life. The current crisis has begun to shift this definition of art to something more accessible, helping bridge the gap between ‘high’ and ‘low’ perceptions of culture. More and more people are recognising books, films and music as art forms to turn to in crisis, both for guidance and genuine enjoyment. Alongside this, there has been a substantial increase in the participation in and publication of online art forms, including a surge in online library engagement and the popularisation of virtual galleries. The technological solutions of the art market to the crisis posed by COVID-19 have functioned to make many of these cultural spaces more accessible to a wider section of the population. Such ubiquitous trends suggest that art and pandemic in fact come hand in hand.
An acknowledgement of this statement leads to another, more fundamental question. Crisis revives culture: why does this matter? When this pandemic passes and society returns to ‘normality’, many people will place their books back on the shelves, and films will once again become a pastime for a hungover evening. However, if this is to be the case, such an outcome does not negate the significant role art has played in these times. This period will nonetheless have existed; it will be entrenched in the global consciousness as a time when the world turned to art for solace. Art functions primarily as a means of communication, providing us with insights into other cultures and modes of thought; it can thus act as a unifying force in a time when society is experiencing unparalleled fragmentation. This pandemic has highlighted the role of culture in the modern world and its ability to co-exist with the demands of daily life. The proliferation of popular art forms has highlighted an alternative system of approaching everyday life – one in which periods of reflection and engagement with our creative faculties counter and compliment the haste of daily routine.
Oscar Wilde famously propagated the anti-mimesis aesthetic: “life imitates art.” The sceptical will disagree. But art can certainly inform and shape our approach to life and aid the construction of creative solutions in response to crisis. Our return to art and culture in times of pandemic demonstrates the twofold function of art: both as providing immediate, temporary pleasure; and as a system of values, an immersion which can contribute to longer-term shifts in the way society approaches and responds to the pressures of daily life.
Rolling dumb – what offence such vital blood Ran cold in your black and impudent mass. You yawned and gobbed that gift with tin and sod To baser phlegms, ‘till, sea-swirled, it was dross. And, kissed by that truth-blistered hand, you brayed A coarse cough, not moved to keep Pity’s node, Or hold the final flush of sacrifice, Leaving just a stone for innocent eyes.
Yet, it’s right the flow smites, like tide of shells, Doubling love for those lines that ‘scaped the mire And rang right up to a week from the bells. Right, too, so short a flare here doused its fire, Where, with span quarter-spent for future fame, The poet perished as writ was his name.
Rougaille is at the heart of authentic Mauritian Creole cuisine. It is not only the easiest Mauritian dish to make, but its combination of tomatoes – known as pomme d’amour in Mauritius – chillies, garlic, ginger and onion leave little to be desired. Prawn Rougaille utilises the rich seafood of Mauritius, but this spicy tomato sauce can be made with fish, meat, or paneer (for vegetarians).
Prawn Rougaille
Serves two
Ingredients:
4 king prawns/(200g of paneer/260g of beef/120g of chicken according to choice) 1 finely chopped onion 1 finely chopped fresh chili (add more if you like spice) 1 finely chopped onion 2 tbsp ginger paste 2 tbsp garlic paste 4/5 dried curry leaves 1 tbsp ground cumin 1 tbsp ground coriander 1 tbsp ground chili 400g chopped tomato Sunflower oil A few stems of finely chopped coriander (for the end) Salt and pepper to taste
Method:
In a bowl, place the king prawns with a tablespoon of ginger paste, garlic paste and ground coriander. Season with salt and pepper and leave to marinate for half an hour.
Once marinated, heat the sunflower oil in a saucepan. Add the chopped onion, dried curry leaves and a tablespoon of ginger and garlic paste. Add the prawns and cook for 4 minutes. Remove the prawns and set them aside.
In the same pan, add the cumin, ground chilli and fresh chilli, followed by the chopped tomatoes. Immediately after, add about a cupful of boiled water- this will create the sauce.
Season with salt and pepper and leave this to simmer on low heat.
After about 5 minutes, add the prawns back in and cook for a furtherfour minutes.
Sprinkle some fresh coriander over the prawn rougaille.
In Mauritius, thisdish is normally served with rice and lentils. Enjoy!
Encouraged by the advent of Greggs’ vegan sausage roll, The Economist dubbed 2019 ‘The Year of
the Vegan’. It was the year that, despite Piers Morgan’s tantrums, plant-based
foods finally turned mainstream. With an increasing variety of options on
supermarket shelves and menus, plant-based food has become increasingly difficult
to ignore. Students, in particular, have come around to the joys of the Linda
McCartney sausage and the oat milk latte. We are leading a generation demanding
more sustainable – and less bloody – food options. With Cambridge recently
banning red meat and Goldsmiths banning beef, vegetarianism is coming to Oxford
University – or trying to.
For years, researchers from the Oxford Martin School have been telling us that reducing meat consumption helps us to stay healthy[1] and that it is also a crucial step to take for the planet. Livestock arming produces a significant proportion of greenhouse gas emissions, contributes towards deforestation[2] and is also a water-intensive process. Now the University is taking tentative steps to follow the advice of their experts: this year saw the opening of the University’s first vegetarian/vegan cafe on the Old Road Campus (for staff only). Currently, the University is formulating a new, more ambitious, sustainability strategy which students can contribute to until the 14th of April and can be found here[3]. It includes the proposal to reduce meat consumption across the University, aiming for a minimum 50% reduction by 2025 and an 80% reduction by 2030.
This sustainability strategy comes from the University’s central management, so it does not directly apply to colleges. This means that students will not feel the direct results in college canteens. However, these schemes could encourage colleges to follow suit, especially if there is encouragement from the student body. Various departments around the University are already testing measures to see how meat consumption reduction could be achieved. Taking small steps to nudge people towards choosing vegetarian options have already been put in place, such as the Maths Institute’s traffic light system in their canteen. The carbon footprint of each serving is estimated with a traffic light colour which indicates whether it has a high or low carbon footprint. Fully informed, students can either choose the high-carbon (and often meaty) options or instead opt for a lower-carbon one.
The vegetarian Norrington Table offers an insight into veggie food offered by each college and its results suggest that many colleges have improved since 2016[4]. However, many of the respondents to the vegetarian Norrington survey despaired at the lack of options and the quality of the food offered. One comment reads “There’s a tendency for college kitchens to think that ‘vegetarian’ = ‘cheese + masses of puff pastry’, rather than getting inventive with vegetables, nuts and seeds, and a range of flavours” (which I can confirm is sadly true).
The same criticism is often levelled at Meat-free Mondays: a meal that could be an exciting range of plant-based food is often just a floppy vegetable patty. Instead of converting students, it irritates them. Rightly, many point out that they are being charged the same amount for a meal which is cheaper to produce. The disappointment often stems from the fact that college chefs do not have the requisite training for cooking plant-based food. However, this is beginning to change, as an inter-collegiate initiative for college chefs will focus on increasing the diversity of college cooking. This will involve kitchen training for catering for a diverse range of faiths, and also an increased focus on vegetarian/vegan food. With this training, Meat-free Mondays could easily be transformed from a chore into a showcase of a new way of eating which is cheaper, kinder and, crucially, doesn’t contribute to the destruction of our planet.
The University’s target is a very important step, but I do not think it is enough. Reducing meat consumption should definitely be a focus, but it needs to be accompanied by an improvement in the current plant-based options. Otherwise, students and staff will simply choose to eat elsewhere. Chefs need to be trained, so they can experiment and create meals which don’t feel like ‘alternatives’ but which make the choice easy. Plant-based food has finally begun to flourish, meaning that you no longer have to compromise on taste for your moral ideals.
