Sunday 3rd May 2026
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Historian’s Oxford PhD error exposed on live radio

Amelia Horn
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Historian’s Oxford PhD error exposed on live radio

Historian Naomi Wolf has attracted a storm of criticism after one of the central arguments behind her new book was exposed as inaccurate on live radio. The book is based closely on her DPhil thesis, which earned her a degree from Oxford in 2015.

Wolf’s book, Outrages: Sex, Censorship, and the Criminalisation of Love, centres on punishments for homosexuality in the Victorian era. It is Wolf’s first venture into LGBTQ+ history, having made her name as a feminist author.

One of the central arguments Wolf makes in her book is that men and boys were actually being executed for sodomy much later than is usually thought. However, this was based on a misinterpretation of the phrase “death recorded” in trial records. Contrary to Wolf’s claims, the phrase does not mean ‘executed’.

Wolf’s original thesis was awarded by Trinity College and supervised by Dr Stefano-Maria Evangelista. The book focuses specifically on two men – poet Walt Whitman and the lesser known poet John Addington Symonds. Whitman is known to have expressed his sexuality through his poetry.

Wolf told The Observer: “People widely believe that the last executions for sodomy were in 1830. But I read every Old Bailey record throughout the 19th century, so I know that not only did they continue; they got worse.”

Her research wrongly claims that Old Bailey records show “14-year-old” Thomas Silver was “actually executed for committing sodomy” in 1859. She stated: “The boy was indicted for an unnatural offence. GUILTY – Death recorded.”

However, in an interview on Radio 3 with Matthew Sweet, Wolf’s findings were shown to be false, as she had misinterpreted the legal term “death recorded.” Sweet, who is also a writer, said: “I don’t think you’re right about this. I looked it up. ‘Death recorded’ is what’s in most of these cases that you’ve identified as executions. It doesn’t mean that he was executed.”

He added that he had found the definition in the same Old Bailey records which Wolf had used for her research: “[Death recorded] was a category that was created in 1823 that allowed judges to abstain from pronouncing a sentence of death on any capital convict whom they considered to be a fit subject for pardon.

“I don’t think any of the executions you’ve identified here actually happened.”

Sweet argued that it was only from 1885 onwards when a less tolerant legal climate developed against consensual sex between two men. He said: “She argues that historians have misread this moment and we should see that 1857 was a more significant date. I think she is wrong.”

At Hay Festival last Saturday, Wolf said: “Some of you may have seen that there has been a healthy debate about two errors I did make in this book, and they’re on page 71 and 72. Hang on to your copies because it will be a collectors’ item, because it will not [be] in the next printing.”

She added that the mistake pointed out by Sweet had been corrected: “I thanked him and immediately corrected the future editions. But here’s what happened. ‘Death recorded’ in those two cases, the Old Bailey record which would have been reported in major newspapers that Symonds was reading … ‘death recorded’ was the most severe penalty, but Dr Sweet pointed out that ‘death recorded’ didn’t necessarily mean that an execution had taken place and I had misinterpreted the phrase.”

Wolf argued that the arrest itself would still have had a significant effect on gay men in the Victorian era such as Symonds.

“As today, if a doctor in Alabama who performs abortions is arrested or a journalist at the New York Times is arrested, it is the arrest that gets all the press. And if there is a sentence, that gets the national press.

“If there is a plea bargain or reduced sentence or parole, that isn’t usually in the press.

“And that was the case for Symonds, reading these terrifying sentences, and it absolutely led him, in my argument, to seek out alternative worlds where he could visualise freedom and love.”

In a statement, her UK publisher said: “Virago stand by their author Naomi Wolf and the thesis of her book Outrages which is based on her Oxford PhD. With Naomi Wolf and her American publisher Houghton Mifflin we will make any necessary corrections.”

Wolf’s US publisher Houghton Mifflin Harcourt said that while it employs “professional editors, copy editors, and proofreaders for each book project, we rely ultimately on authors for the integrity of their research and fact checking.

“Despite this unfortunate error we believe the overall thesis of the book Outrages still holds. We are discussing corrections with the author.”

The historian Richard Ward added to Sweet’s explanation of the term ‘death recorded’: “It empowered the trial judge to abstain from formally pronouncing a sentence of death upon a capital convict in cases where the judge intended to recommend the offender for a pardon from the death sentence. In the vast majority (almost certainly all) of the cases marked ‘death recorded’, the offender would not have been executed.”

He labelled Wolf’s mistake a “pretty basic error”, adding: “If all the people who were mentioned in the Old Bailey records as ‘death recorded’ were subsequently executed, there would have been a bloodbath on the gallows. Yet anyone who has a basic knowledge of crime and justice in the 19th century would know that that wasn’t the case.”

Christian blogger Alan Jacobs came to Wolf’s defence, writing: “Wouldn’t you — wouldn’t anyone — assume that the phrase “death recorded” means “death sentence carried out”? I know that’s what I would assume. Now, someone might say, “Well, she should have looked it up.” But we only look words or phrases up when we have reason to think that we have misunderstood them.”

Wolf’s other works include The Beauty Myth (1991) which has been lauded as a hallmark of third wave feminism, and The End of America (2007) which looks at the historical rise of fascism.

She was also a former political advisor to Bill Clinton and Al Gore and has written for media outlets such as The Nation, The New Republic, The Guardian and The Huffington Post. Wolf’s thesis supervisor has been contacted for comment.

Cambridge appoints first black leader of an Oxbridge college

Rit Anand
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Cambridge appoints first black leader of an Oxbridge college

Businesswoman and media executive Sonita Alleyne was elected Master of Jesus College, Cambridge this week, making her the first black person to be appointed to lead an Oxbridge college.

Alleyne will take over from current Master Ian White this October.

She is also the first woman to lead the college since its establishment in 1496. Alleyne herself studied at Cambridge, reading Philosophy at Fitzwilliam College.

Commenting on her successful election as Master, Alleyne said in a statement: “It is an honour to be elected to lead Jesus College and I’m looking forward to becoming part of such an energetic and innovative community.

“Having met many Fellows, students and staff in recent weeks, I was struck by the positive and forward-looking ethos shared across the College.

“Supporting the work of the College to widen access and participation to all that it offers promises to be incredibly rewarding. “I left Cambridge thirty years ago, but it never left me. I am delighted to be returning.”

Alleyne, who was born in Barbados and brought up in East London, is currently the chairwoman of the British Board of Film Classification’s management council.

She previously held roles in production and media companies, including various board roles in prestigious organisations such as the National Employment Panel, the chair of the Radio Sector Skills Council and as a non-executive director of the Department for Culture, Media and Sport.

Alleyne began her career working in the publicity department of Jazz FM before moving into production. In 1991, after being let go from the station Alleyne was a cofounder of production company Somethin’ Else, which she led as chief executive from until 2009.

She has previously been a judge for the Precious Awards which celebrate the achievements of black women in business, and has herself received the Award of Excellence from the European Federation of Black Women Business Owners.

Concerns have been repeatedly raised about Oxford’s lack of access to black students, with one in four colleges not admitting a single black British student between 2015 and 2017. As of yet, no black person has ever been appointed to lead an Oxford college.

Labour MP David Lammy has long been critical of Oxford’s failure to improve their admissions track record in terms of diversity. He said: “The university is clearly happy to see Oxford remain an institution defined by entrenched privilege that is the preserve of wealthy white students from London and the south-east.”

Last year, Cambridge admitted the highest number of black students in its history, although the 58 undergraduates represented only 2% of the University’s total intake.

A history of Punting: past and present

Oxford Punting Cuppers Team
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A history of Punting: past and present

Punting may seem like an Oxford institution. But it took John Anderzej Rivers, an Anglo-Pole Oxonian of the late pre-war period, to organise a yearly race down the northern stretch, later known as ‘the Piste’, of the river Cherwell (at that time pronounced Charwell). In 1913, he and two other young blades of Oxford, crossed the finishing line at Queens-Bank, becoming the first in a century-long line of punting victors. As one amongst them reportedly said of the occasion, “the air on the Cherwell that day was wet and heady with the joy of our victory.”

That man grew up to be none other than famous novelist Aldous Huxley, who presided over the next two summers of the competition, which is said to have inspired the pacifism of his later years. Even though the inchoate competition was ‘rough and ready’ with little formal structure, one could already see the core values which, in coming decades, would come to define the competition: goodfellowship, proper religion, and respect for the institution of private property.

The races continued each summer until the coming of the Second World War put something of a pall on proceedings. Yet even in those troubled days, the spirit of competition punting persevered, sustaining hopes and resolves, fanning the flames of aspiration, throughout ‘their darkest hour.’

The apocryphal tale of ‘Punting Peter’ emerged then, a junior officer who carried his old punting-pole from the beaches of Normandy all across France as a good-luck omen, before leading a last-ditch charge against the Nazis at the Battle of the Bulge. He died heroically, still holding on to it with both hands. Indeed, word even reached high command – General Montgomery once remarked, “an ounce of punting spirit is better than a pint of oil.”

The end of the war saw the arrival at Oxford of perhaps the most prestigious of punters – J. R. R. Tolkien. It is often claimed that punting was as natural to him as water to a duck: “his canny hands manipulated the pole as though they knew its every pleasure.” Tolkien won the races five times, and presided over them six times, leaving him by far the most accomplished punter before the advent of the modern competition. Who knows if the idyllic haven of the Shire was not inspired by the picturesque fields and dales of the Upper Cherwell?

Yet by the late fifties, punting in Oxford saw a slump – there are no recorded races for 1958 or 1959, leading some to speculate that the competition was discontinued, surely unlikely given the great favour it enjoyed before then. 1960, however, brought monumental changes to Oxford punting, ensuring its legacy as a quintessential university diversion, with the creation of the Royal Charter of Oxford Competition Punting, a document that remains the foundation of the modern competition to this day. The charter, obtained through the generous intercession of the Princess Alice, Duchess Gloucester, established the rules of the competition, enshrined its four core values of life, property, goodfellowship, and law, and mandated the victors be awarded with the golden image of a punt – the ‘Punting Cup’.

From the inauguration of the 1960 charter, the Punting Cup went from strength to strength, growing into a truly iconic Oxford event. The late 1970’s and early 1980’s were the heyday of the Punting Cup, with competitions routinely seeing over a hundred vessels competing in the opening seeds. It was a time of great optimism in the country at large, too – with the Oil Crisis and recession coming to an end, Britain was open for business, and there is no doubt that these high spirits affected the situation on the river.

This era saw the expansion of the trade in tourist punts, above all on the lower stretch of the Cherwell towards the Magdalen Eyot, which had become a popular alternative to the traditional Piste of the Upper Cherwell as the rolls of competitors filled up. A brief ban on competition punting in the early nineties, under the vice-chancellorship of Sir Richard Southwood saw the Punting Cup go underground for almost half a decade.

Yet official sanction could not quash Oxford’s appetite for the summer races: students would reportedly cycle up to the Piste from their colleges under cover of night, hiding bottles of gin and boxes of strawberries in their undergarments, and punt on ‘borrowed’ vessels. An entry from the 1991/1992 ledger describes the final for that year: “races went from Queens-Bank at midnight; Lincoln’s second vessel took the fifth seed with a gap of nine yards, and the Cup.”

Although the ban was swiftly annulled, the spirit of subversion and daring that flourished in those years lingered for ever after, immortalised in the proverbial watchwords of Oxford’s punters: “hot-blooded by temperament, risk-takers by disposition.”

In the early 2000s, the Punting Cup rebranded to Punting Cuppers, in line with the rest of the university’s inter-college sporting competitions. At the same time, reforms were made to the competition rules, notably the inclusion of a dedicated paddler to the required four-punter team. Paddling had not been a regular part of punting form for most of the competition’s history, often being thought of as a crutch for inexperienced crews; it was not until several speed records were broken in a row, that continuous paddling was recognised as key to success on the Piste.

This year has seen the largest first seed since 1978, a testament to the hard work of the committee in bringing Punting Cuppers into the Information Age. Over two hundred competitors entered the rolls, many enjoying their first ever taste of this timeless Oxford tradition. Looking to the future, who knows quite where the story of Oxford punting will sail next? For now, at any rate, it looks like yet another season of light, beauty, and goodfellowship on the Cherwell.

Friendships: easier made than kept?

Christopher Sinnott
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Friendships: easier made than kept?

Sometimes it seems like you only show up any more when you want something from me”. An old friend of mine told me that recently. I don’t think I was expecting a sharp prod like that from him. We had been close mates at school, probably even formative for one another at the time, as my dramas and experiences became his and his mine. Since arriving at university we hadn’t really spoken much, but I had written this off early on as a mutual desire to meet new people, assuring myself that we could always hang out again and reconnect if we wanted. This declaration hit me like a truck. There was a real pang to being told that, a lingering guilty conscience that I couldn’t shrug off for weeks. Am I a bad friend? Have I deserted people I was close to just to hang out with my Oxford mates? Do I ask more of those around me than they do me? Each question frightened me, and it made me begin to worry that I treated all my friends this way. When those connections mean so much to us, to be told that we don’t act like it can make us feel like we’re ungrateful, needy, or self-centred.

There was some truth to what he had said: I wasn’t wrong to spend my fresher year making friends, but I had done much more friend-making than friend-keeping. Keeping friends can be hard, in some ways harder than making them. There are the bigger commitments, sure. It means putting upwith one another’s flaws even if they start tograte on you, it means sticking by mates when they’ve got themselves into a tough spot, it means being around for the low points as well the high ones. When the big stuff tests (or ends) a friendship, it’s hard not to notice. Bust-ups over petty things or mistrust caused by the fog of rumours can wedge people apart suddenly and often permanently. Relationships may even be tested by a person’s character. What do I do if I truly believe your friend is in the wrong? What do I do if they won’t repent or admit that they’re causing pain to others? Am I a bad friend for cutting them adrift or a bad person for allowing bad things to go unchallenged? Worries like this can plague our minds in a that can make us wonder if friendship means being uncritically supportive.

This was a different kind of worry, though. Along with the bigger things, friendship also means smaller, less grand gestures. Remembering to text back. Checking up every now and then. Asking how they’re feeling. Term-time can be a blizzard of to-dos, as we suddenly find ourselves immersed in essays, tutorials, societies, drama, relationships, drinking. It’s one thing to meet the larger challenges, but the smaller things can be easier to forget. In the middle of all the stuff, we sometimes risk losing sight of maintaining these important connections. The worry is that we, with no bad things to warrant our departure, have left our friend’s lives without caring to look back.

Had I, then, lost sight of my friends? I was doing myself no good by agonising on my I own, so I asked them. A few people admittedthat I had definitely been around less this termthan they might have hoped. That was true of most of us though: pressure had tightened our schedules and exhausted us, and after hours of work it began to feel more comforting towatch Netflix in bed than to go to the collegebar (or, god forbid, to Bridge). It didn’t make us bad friends or bad people: it just made us slightly burned out. Few of us are so extroverted that we can be social all the time, and there’s nothing wrong with admitting it to ourselves.

Maybe I was worrying too much. If I had people who cared enough to wish I was around more, I can’t have been doing toowrong by them. Introspecting was fine insmall doses, but talking to others showed me that my questions were preoccupying in a way that, itself, prevented me from hanging out and enjoying myself. I can write as many obnoxiously cautioning paragraphs about keeping friends as I like, but the truth is so long as you make the reconnection and start back up, spending time with a proper friend becomes effortless. After I had that conversation with my school-mate I saw him a few days later. We caught up and entertained ourselves over a few drinks with anecdotes from our time so far at uni. After a couple hours we went out clubbing, and fuelled by tequila and VKs we danced (awfully) to Avicii songs well into the early morning. The night turned out to be one of my favourites since I arrived at university, and it reminded me what I had missed of him. Why, then, did I continue to mope for weeks after over whether we were still friends? In the end, all it had taken was a prod to rekindle the fun in our relationship, and then we were buzzing with re-discovered chemistry. The sooner I realised that, the sooner I could get on with my life.

So I pulled out of it. I had to. Feeling lonely wasn’t just something that would affect my social sphere. It was something that would begin to keep me from meeting my deadlines, or turning up to meetings, or wanting to do anything else but wallow. With more than a little help from friends, I eventually got over myself. We ate together more, went clothes-shopping from time to time. Even a couple afternoons spent doing nothing did us a world of good, so long as we were doing nothing together.

I hadn’t been wrong or malicious to stop seeing my friend. I had maybe just become a little lazy. I lost myself in other things. But it also wasn’t doing me any good to get myself down over whether or not I saw people enough, or whether I gave enough back. When we question our relationships, self- doubt can obscure from us what we do well, how much we others really enjoy our company and how much we really do give back to them just by being around. Rather than an assessment, our worries can become a bashing, a distorted criticism that doesn’t do ourselves justice.

So long as we receive occasional prods from our friends, and so long as we don’t make it something more, we allow ourselves to continue to be dependable, available, and enjoyable. When it works, you can just feel it, and that brief and modest thought “I’m so glad I get to be friends with you” is one of the happiest in the world.

Should comedy have an expiration date?

Chloe Jacobs
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Should comedy have an expiration date?

Let’s begin with a few relevant self-plugs. Firstly, I’m a comedian. I’ve performed with the Oxford Imps and Oxford Revue, as well as just on my lonesome with a microphone and a dose of delusional confidence, both nationally and internationally. I am only a baby comedian – I’ve been performing for a miniscule two years – but this is just to illustrate that I am not some she-devil here to ensure no-one ever has fun again. I quite like fun, sometimes I even cause it. Secondly, I will be playing Rosalind in this year’s Oriel Garden play, As You Like It, sassing about in the gender-bent confusion of the Forest of Arden.

Now, why are these two humblebrags about my performance history/future relevant? Let me explain. It is a temperate day in mid-May, and we are reading through the scene in As You Like It we’re about to rehearse. My essay deadlines had haemorrhaged the day before, so I hadn’t had time to go over the scene again before we started; I was basically reading cold. All of a sudden, I find myself saying this:

“Why, she defies me, like Turk to Christian: women’s gentle brain Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention, Such Ethiop words, blacker in their effect Than in their countenance.” – Act IV, Scene 3

Everyone shifts uncomfortably in their seats. I look up, apologetically, as if I’ve just been briefly possessed by a xenophobic Elizabethan ghost. Our director clears her throat and says “Yeah, sorry guys, that bit will be cut out of the final script”. We carry on, but I can’t stop thinking about it. In one fell swoop, this chunk of text in a supposedly merry comedy has taken aim at “Turks”, women and people of colour. We know instinctively that this is wrong, a relic of a context we can no longer access, something an audience shouldn’t be confronted with during a bright, summery performance on the college lawn. And, yet, there it is. Shakespeare is one of the most, if not the most, famous writers in the world, and we are reminded, strikingly, that as timeless as his works are, they are most certainly of their time.

Now, this is not to say there should be a cull of everything that doesn’t allow an audience to have a happy-go-lucky evening of summertime fun. Some of my favourite plays and performers thrive in the uncomfortable. The Netflix comedy sensation, Nanette, by Hannah Gadsby is both hilarious comedy and scathing, uncomfortable truth-telling about the world we live in. I love comedies about terrible people doing stupid things, I am a fan of art that showcases the world as it is, not as the glossy ideal it ought to be. Three Billboards Outside of Ebbing Missouri, and a lot of Martin McDonagh, in fact, confuse our alliances, encouraging us root for funny small-town men who also happen to be cruel and racist or misogynistic.

I study English Literature at this fine university and, aside from teaching me a lot about procrastination and how culottes stand up to overheating lecture halls, the syllabus constantly puts me up against brilliant pieces of art that are overtly or covertly problematic. My own play, reviewed last term by this very newspaper, was commended for its brutal treatment of themes like misogyny and domestic violence. Complexity muddies the water, and great characters are born out of complexity. So, how do we square this circle? How do we allow complexity to survive whilst being PC? Well, I think it comes down to how we think about political correctness, ‘wokeness’ and sensitivity.

Many white, straight, cis-gender men I have met, at this university, on the UK comedy/stand-up circuit or in my travels elsewhere, have put me in mind of a meme I saw on Twitter. Twitter user @keithcalder tweeted, “Twenty-Something White Man Heroically Agrees To Take Devil’s Advocate Position On Controversial Issue That Doesn’t Affect Him”. Well-meaning and intentionally damaging people alike defend to the death the right to say anything you want, to ‘push the boundaries’ of what is acceptable, to speak freely.

This always raises the question in my head: what if they protected other people as fervently as they protect jokes about Caitlyn Jenner, gay children, people of colour? The most common argument I’ve heard in favour of offensive, non-PC jokes in comedy shows and theatre is that it’s ‘freedom of speech’ and ‘just a joke’, complainants are told to ‘get a sense of humour’. Again, this always brings to mind the question: what if the people demeaned by that joke were as important to you as your own freedom to enjoy it, or to make a similar joke yourself?

This is not an issue, really, of restricting freedom of speech; it is an issue of responsibility, culpability and an awareness that if a joke doesn’t offend you, perhaps it is not because it is not offensive, but merely because you are in a powerful enough position to let it bounce off of you. From satirical political cartoons to offensive caricatures of people of colour used to sell soap and deodorant, we have long acknowledged that words have power, especially if those words have the power to provoke laughter, ridicule, dehumanisation. ‘Just a joke’ doesn’t really make sense when jokes are considered powerful political and cultural tools.

What can be done, then? Should we do a production of Othello where everyone is very nice and considerate and everyone lives happily ever after? Should A Streetcar Named Desire be purged of domestic violence? Should the upcoming performance of The Roaring Girl, an Elizabethan play (that I, incidentally, love) about cross-dressing, be stripped of all its transphobic or intersex discriminate implications? Should the shocking 15 minute monologue performed at this month’s OUDS showcase from I Punched a Nazi ((( And I liked it ))) be “tidied up”, with all of the references to white supremacist radicalisation left on the cutting room floor? Should Angels in America just stick to the nice bits, instead of depicting angels with multiple vaginas and bombastic homophobes with closeted homosexual tendencies?

The answer, of course, is no. Every thespian and performer that I’ve ever met would agree, and if anyone is telling you different then, well, perhaps they’ve fundamentally misunderstood what’s going on. In an industry where minority groups are massively underrepresented, where Eurocentric beauty standards are promoted and there is low tolerance for disabled, fat, gender non-conforming, non-cisgender etc. bodies, we are merely asking not to be insulted if we manage to make it over all of the hurdles to get through the door. In an industry that thrives on telling complex, rich, difficult stories, we are merely asking that our stories be told and respected as much or more than those of the people that insult and oppress us, whether they are writers, performers (alive or long-dead) or the people your difficult characters represent.

Contextualising difficult and outdated ideas is the key, making a decision about whether a line is going to be cut or boldly kept to say something about the characters on stage, the world we live in or the world it was created in. More key, however, is listening to the ‘offended’ people we are quick to accuse of political correctness gone mad; if you’re all about freedom to speak, why aren’t you listening?

OSPL SUMMER SCHEME

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OSPL SUMMER SCHEME

If you are interested in business and publishing then join the OSPL Summer Scheme!

The scheme offers real business and genuine sales experience, where you will be bringing in the advertising which allows some of Oxford’s most well known student publications, such as Cherwell, The Isis, and The Oxford Scientist to go to print!

Who else can say that they worked as a business executive for a real publishing company whilst completing their degree?!

Not to mention that at the end of the scheme you will have the opportunity to apply to join the board of directors of OSPL and manage student publishing in Oxford over the next year!

For more details on applying to join the business and advertising team please contact Serena at [email protected] or fill in this form.

Quarry quarrel: Villagers protest John’s construction plans

Simon Hunt
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Quarry quarrel: Villagers protest John’s construction plans

Sixty-five villagers from Barford formed a protest outside St John’s College on Tuesday following a decision by the College to allow farmland that it owns in the area to be used as a sand and gravel quarry.

Protesters brandished signs reading “Quarry dust can kill,” “Land not sand” and “Quash the quarry” as they stood outside the porters lodge of St John’s College. Primary school children from the area wore air pollution masks and were handing out leaflets to passing students.

The site, owned by St John’s, had been earmarked by Warwickshire County Council as part of their Minerals Development Framework plan. The plan is intended to “identify where new minerals sites should be located, and set out the policies to assess new minerals development proposals over the next 15 years.”

To date, hundreds of local residents have responded to the Council’s consultation on the plan, which identifies 32 potential sites for development.

“Negative health effects on residents”, “blight on property prices” and “proximity to listed buildings” are among the numerous concerns that have been expressed by members of the Barton Residents Association.

So far, the group have raised over £25,000 in donations from local residents which has been spent on ecological assessments of proposed development sites and legal services fees.

The Barton Residents Association has reported “good responses” and said: “The Students Union are now raising the matter at their next meeting.”

The College Bursar told the press that the College wishes to assure those people who have taken the time to write that all the letters have been read by the relevant people in the College and their points fully considered.”

Council fly LGBTQ+ Flag for Oxford Pride

Sam Millward
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Council fly LGBTQ+ Flag for Oxford Pride

To mark the celebration of Oxford Pride, Oxford City Council have raised the Rainbow Pride flag above their offices in Abingdon.

In previous years, Conservative Councillors had reportedly stopped the flying of the flag above the Chambers.

A Tweet today from the Oxfordshire Liberal Democrats said “After years of the Conservatives blocking the LGBT flag from being flown in Abingdon, the Liberal Democrats running the Town Council have made some changes.”

Today’s parade is Oxford’s sixteenth celebration of the Pride festival, with the city playing host to a wide variety of events celebrating the LGBTQ+ community.

Oxford Pride escribe their goal as creating “a fabulous festival celebrating queer life in Oxfordshire and our unique city of Oxford.”

Events have been held within the University, as well as throughout the local community. These have included comedy nights, Queer Arts Exhibitions and a Pride Symposium held at Oxford Brookes.

Henna Khanom, Co-Chair of the OUSU LGBTQ+ campaign, told Cherwell: “This years’ Pride offers a chance for the city and student communities to come together to celebrate queer histories, movements and legacies. Particular highlights are the Alain Locke Memorial Lectures, the Beyond Brideshead: Queer Oxford talk at the Ashmolean, and of course the day itself, which thousands of people are expected to attend.”

“The LGBTQ+ Campaign will be marching as while the Queer movement has accomplished so much, there is so much left to be done; something especially important given that this year is the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall riots.”

Oxfordshire Town Council ahs ben contacted for comment.

Review: Amadeus – University College Players ‘have more than risen to the challenge’

William Atkinson
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Review: Amadeus – University College Players ‘have more than risen to the challenge’

In my entire time at school, I enjoyed only two Music lessons: my last one, and the one where we watched Amadeus – the VHS of choice for a long-suffering Music teacher nearing the summer holidays. Since first seeing it in Mr Couldridge’s Year 9 class, I’ve loved it. Peter Shaffer’s play is endlessly inventive and contains some of the finest lines about the vitality and importance of music that have ever been put to paper. So no pressure, University College Players. Fortunately, they’ve more than risen to the challenge.

Director Priya Radhakrishnan’s take on the play opens with a huge deal of energy, courtiers and emperors dashing about in eclectic costumes. The ‘Salieri, Salieri’ opening felt off, until one realised Salieri (Eddie Holmes-Milner) was to the audience’s rear, which was an inventive choice but unfortunately made it harder to hear. Still, this didn’t last long and soon Holmes-Milner was in full swing, slipping between the old and young Salieri with all the enthusiasm of a man who really didn’t want to spend the whole play pretending to have a hunchback.

Holmes-Milner’s performance was marvellous. Early in the play comes the iconic ‘voice of an obscene child’ speech which introduces Mozart. Holmes-Milner pitched Salieri’s reaction perfectly: not too comic as to distract, but not too venal as to turn the audience immediately against him. His masterful clarity, even when fighting with a slightly lilting Italian accent, was pitched perfectly; and his later railings against God, Mozart and (I suspect) internally against the rather inclement weather identified him as a real talent. His sly confidence, sense of fading aristocratic haughtiness and frustrated mediocrity made him one half of an outstanding central duo.

The other half of that, of course, is Mozart. It’s a tough role. Shaffer’s take is an unlikeable childish narcissist, with a laugh like a cat violently disagreeing with a chalkboard. Fortunately, Tom Fisher’s Mozart was fantastic: a manic live-wire, he was constantly reacting, changing and giggling. Fisher was as outrageous as necessary, and powerfully and tragically mad when he had to be. It was one of the most confident and artful performances I’ve seen in a long time, and he should be lauded for making such a cad so sympathetic.

He’s aided by Olivia Krauze as a superb Constanze, who beautifully brought out the melancholy passion of a woman cursed by that pesky Cupid to love a childish genius. Together, the three make the closing parts of the second half a tour de force: Salieri’s heretical hatred, Constanze’s ailing love and Mozart’s unhinged brilliance all combined for a powerful finale. They were aided by the weather, which chose to unleash a tremendous gust of wind during the climax of the play. Though this destroyed half the set and made Krauze look ever so slightly like Kate Bush on a wiley moor, it showed, contrary to Salieri’s intonations, that the production clearly had the Almighty on its side. 

The rest of the cast did well, especially the two Venticellos (Matt Kenyon and Dorothy McDowell), and Ariel Levine deserves a mention for his great turn as the foppish and foolish Emperor Joseph. But what must really be praised is the excellence of the musical accompaniment. Elsa Shah’s musical direction and band give a beautiful live rendition of Mozart at his finest, and the opera sequences were a particular delight. It was privilege to be sat so close to such a beautiful arrangement.  

All in all then, we were treated to a great cast, with great music, and some inadvertently entertaining bad weather. Much better than any Music lesson. Sorry, Mr Couldridge.

Review: The Roaring Girl – ‘a ground-breaking proto-feminist piece of theatre’

Alison Hall
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Review: The Roaring Girl – ‘a ground-breaking proto-feminist piece of theatre’

Thomas Middleton and Thomas Dekker’s 1611 play The Roaring Girl could certainly be described as a ground-breaking proto-feminist piece of theatre, following the story of a cross-dressing thief who plays with gender roles, condemns misogynistic predators and vows never to marry. With a bold, funny and thoroughly spirited performance, Martha Harlan and Laura Henderson Child’s production at the Pilch excellently conveyed the proto-feminist undercurrent that lingers beneath the surface of the script.

It suffices to say that Harlan and Henderson Child’s direction was simply brilliant. The piece was highly dynamic, the pace never slowed, nor did the show lose momentum. The co-directors did a fantastic job at bringing Middleton and Dekker’s script to life; each moment on stage is injected with a great deal of energy and movement. While this felt a little dizzying, it nevertheless highlighted the show’s raucous, fun-filled spirit. This was most evident in the fight scenes – the directors clearly paid attention to detail by having the combat scenes choreographed, and this was easily one of the best directorial decisions. With onstage fighting that was gripping, tense, but nonetheless hugely entertaining, the play’s fight director, Ariel Levine, is deserving of a great deal of praise. Additionally, the set design was striking: the ceiling was adorned with white sheets and the costume rail was constantly present, with the cast changing costumes on stage. This recurring motif of fabric and clothing was a very nice touch, I thought, given that the concept of disguise and “dressing up” features so prominently in the play.

The incredibly strong cast is also deserving of credit. The “Roaring Girl” herself, Moll Cutpurse, was played fantastically by Hannah Taylor, radiating charisma and swagger as she absolutely dominated the stage. Even as she played such a larger-than-life character, Taylor’s attention to detail was superb, as the occasional wink or kiss of the teeth sent the audience into uproarious laughter. She was accompanied by an equally talented supporting cast – Lola Beal and Katie Friedli Walton gave standout performances as an unhappy noblewoman and her milquetoast husband, as did Millie Tupper and Jamie Lucas as a pair of blundering pickpockets. Every cast member aside from Taylor took on at least two roles, a highly impressive feat as they all demonstrated immense versatility. I also found the gender blind casting to be an interesting touch, given that the whole play seemed to revolve around the notion of cross-dressing, and it was pulled off superbly by the actors.

The soundtrack that accompanied the play, made up of such artists as Janelle Monáe and Madonna, truly captured the spirit of the show – feisty, bold and playful. The scene changes were accompanied by brief snippets of the soundtrack as the cast changed costumes and danced around on stage. While this initially added to the sheer exuberance of the piece, the use of music eventually felt a little repetitive for me. Nevertheless, the transitions were executed very well, allowing for a seamless jump between each scene.

The Roaring Girl is a dynamic, fearless comedy which celebrates feisty women like Moll. Harlan and Henderson Child did a fantastic job bringing Middleton and Dekker’s script to a modern stage, supported by a hugely talented and versatile cast.

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