Tuesday 26th August 2025
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Dirty Dancing Review – ‘gives fans exactly what they want’

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Despite the film now being over thirty years old, it seems the appeal of Dirty Dancing is still as great as ever. Famous for its thrilling choreography and iconic characters, and renowned for its subtle yet brilliant treatment of numerous social issues, one might have thought any stage adaptation would always fall in the film’s shadow.

But the tremendous success of the Dirty Dancing UK Theatre Tour proves that the plot translates perfectly onto the stage. The fact that it sticks almost entirely to the film script, even though writer Eleanor Bergstein did add a few scenes to help embroider her original storyline, means it satisfies even the most sceptical of fans.

Director Federico Bellone and set designer Roberto Comotti combine to produce stunning staging, transporting the audience back in time to the sixties’ summer camp. This provides the perfect setting for the main attraction – no, not Johnny – the intense dance sequences. They are performed with a slickness and energy that more than does the film justice, while Baby’s lessons with Johnny are suitably charming. This middle period does feel a little rushed at times, however, with most of the dance classes being cramped into one scene, and the outdoor sessions not really being given the staging or attention to flourish. This is particularly evident when the two leading characters practice in the lake, arguably one of the most memorable scenes from the film, but the decision to lower a semi-transparent blind with waves painted onto it provoked laughter from the audience, at a moment that is supposed to be crucial in the development of Baby and Johnny’s relationship.

Kira Malou gives a vibrant performance as Baby, astutely conveying her innocence yet determination. Michael O’Reilly dazzles with his dance technique and presence, but still struggles to carry the somewhat poisoned chalice of Johnny. Perhaps unfairly, anyone playing the role will inevitably be compared to Patrick Swayze’s original performance. Swayze gives the character a charm that O’Reilly’s portrayal lacks, making Johnny appear arrogant in places as opposed to charismatic. Both of the lead’s dances flow beautifully, though, and they allow their flame to flicker brightly enough for the audience to empathise, without making their romance come across as trite. A notable mention must be given to Alex Wheeler and Sian Gentle-Green, playing Billy and Elizabeth respectively, whose vocals provide consistent moments of class throughout the show, and serve to light up the finale.

The production is undoubtedly fun and vivacious, jerking the audience along every twist and turn (of which there are many) almost as aggressively as Johnny’s mambo hip thrusts, making the two acts rattle through like a whirlwind. Even though most of the audience will probably know how Dirty Dancing reaches its resolution, you never feel bored, or anxious for the curtain to close. If anything, you wish it could last a little while longer, and are grateful for Bergstein’s decision to add a few extra scenes. The plot becomes too convoluted in places, and it becomes difficult to follow the storyline of each character, briefly reminding the audience that this is a script designed for the cinema and not for the stage. The story is still riveting, though, and does not lose any of the drama or emotion in translation.

Dirty Dancing at Oxford’s New Theatre doesn’t aim too high, sticking religiously to the original script, but in doing so satisfies original fans, whilst no doubt enchanting the next generation to ensure the magic of Dirty Dancing continues to be passed on year after year.

Oxford flies Suffragette flag marking centenary of women’s vote

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Oxford’s suffragettes’ flag will fly over the city’s colleges and libraries on Friday, marking exactly 100 years since the first women were allowed to vote in Britain and Ireland.

Friday will mark the centenary of the 1918 general election, which was the first election following the enfranchisement of middle-class women over the age of 30. It was also the first election in which working class men, although not working class women, were allowed to vote.

Women in the Humanities, which campaigns for gender equality in academia and conducts interdisciplinary research on gender issues, is coordinating the occasion.

A spokesperson said: “We hope that on Friday 14th December people will look out for it and remember those who campaigned tirelessly more than a century ago for women’s enfranchisement.”

The banner which will be flown on today is a reproduction of an original flown by a contingent of around 90 members of the Oxford Women’s Suffrage Society, at a major march in London in 1908. The OWSS was formed by a coalition of locals, students and academics in 1904.

Linacre College tweeted a photo of the flag flying over a college building earlier today.

Women in the Humanities also aim to shed light on the locations in Oxford which feature in the history of the suffragette movement.

For example, Millicent Fawcett addressed the Oxford Union in 1908, while feminist meetings were regularly held at Oxford’s women’s colleges, as well as Jesus College and the Town Hall. Other places in Oxford were the site of attacks by militant suffragettes and their male supporters.

Oxford’s history of feminist activism goes back to at least 1878 and the founding of Lady Margaret Hall and the Association for Promoting the Higher Education of Women. By 1893 Oxford had four women’s colleges, and by 1909 there were suffrage societies at St. Hilda’s, Lady Margaret Hall and St. Hugh’s.

More information about the history of the suffragette movement in Oxford can be found on the Women in the Humanities website.

University Hospitals promise to cover settled status applications for its EU staff

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Oxford University Hospital will be covering the costs of settled status applications for its EU staff following Brexit.

Chief executive, Dr Bruno Holthof, who is himself Belgian, has written personally to all EU staff of the OUH to let them know that the Trust will cover the costs of their applications for settled status.

Applying for settled status will allow the EU nationals to continue living and working indefinitely in the UK, provided they have lived in the UK for a continuous 5-year period.

Applications will open next March and the deadline is the following June. The cost of an application will be £65 and £32.50 for those under the age of 16.

Head of Communications of the Oxford University Hospitals NHS Foundation Trust, Matt Akid, told Cherwell: “We have taken this step to demonstrate to our EU staff that we value the huge contribution which they make to caring for patients in our hospitals.

“We want them to stay with us despite the current political uncertainty over Brexit.”

OUH has seen an increase in EU staff since the Brexit vote, with 11.37% of its staff made up of EU citizens in March 2016 to 12.47% in March 2018. Akid informed Cherwell that 19% of the OUH’s nurses and midwives are from the EU.

Akid states that the number of EU nationals that have joined has been greater than the number leaving.

In terms of other measures to support EU staff, Akid told Cherwell that the Director o Improvement and Culture “has held open meetings with EU staff to listen to their concerns”.

OUH also has a “range of key worker accommodation on our different hospital sites which, where possible, provide affordable and sociable housing for staff who are coming to work in Oxford from overseas.”

Other NHS trusts have followed suit, for example University College London Hospitals and Guy’s and St Thomas’ Hospital in London.

“After three hours in an Omniplex I am, at least, still alive” – livestreaming from theatre to cinema

Continuing a tradition begun in 2009, this month the National Theatre livestreamed their production of Antony and Cleopatra to 650 cinemas around the UK. I took this as an excuse to get out of the house for the evening, putting off the day when I run out of things to say to my parents and lapse into silence for the remainder of the Christmas break. Of the production as a whole, I have this to say: it was alright. Ralph Fiennes appeared to be doing a John Gielgud impression; my hopes of seeing an interpretation of Cleopatra that doesn’t make her seem like she should be sectioned were not fulfilled. Still, that’s not absolutely heartbreaking – and there was a live snake, so points for that. But I was able to spend ten minutes trying to think of something funny to say about Ralph Fiennes’ trousers without feeling like I’d missed out on anything.

The only thing that was striking about it was how un-striking it was. In fact, the more I think about it, the more it becomes indistinguishable from the RSC’s production last year (Google it – Antony Byrne and Ralph Fiennes have the same haircut). It’s Shakespeare the way everyone does Shakespeare, in the same modern dress everyone uses – nothing to make someone standing in the rain, at eleven o’clock on a Thursday night, remember why they bothered to leave the house in the first place.

So, who is bothering? The Society of London Theatre say that 15 million people went to see something live on stage in 2017, but what about those livestreams? Going to one is a strange experience, a bit like real theatre except with a fair chance of getting stuck next to someone (me) surreptitiously eating a chicken sandwich. It opens with a video in which Samira Ahmed assures you of a) the inherent greatness of the thing you are about to watch, and b) the welfare of the snake. It’s definitely not a substitute for live theatre because there’s nothing like a Craigavon retail estate for sucking the atmosphere out of something. And there’s no escaping the fact that an onscreen Ralph Fiennes in ill-advised trousers is no substitute for a real life Ralph Fiennes in (what, on closer inspection, I suspect would be) trousers even more ill-advised than you first thought. Still, it allows those of us condemned to live in fields see big-budget theatre.

But here’s my real problem with livestreaming: no one goes. The National Theatre say that NT Live broadcasts to 2500 screens worldwide, and that 1.2 million people “engaged” with them through the medium in 2017-18 (I don’t know what that means either). There were seven NT Live shows last year, plus Encore screenings – but not everywhere gets them, so let’s make that three. This results in a grand total of forty-eight people per show per venue. That’s just a statistic, of course: if you go to a livestream somewhere arty it will probably be sold out. But in the kind of cinemas I go to there are usually about fifty people. Plus me, with my chicken sandwich.

Last month the The King and I became the highest grossing livestream theatre event to date: 135,000 people watched it worldwide. Which is good, obviously. But, without wishing to be that person, 12.6 million people watch I’m a Celebrity every week – and I’m a Celebrity isn’t even good anymore. And I know TV’s a lot cheaper, and you don’t have to drive for 40 minutes to watch it, and that occasionally you just want to watch Noel Edmonds suffer. But sometimes theatre is more fun.

It occurs to me that you might misinterpret my lukewarm response to Antony and Cleopatra, and conclude that people don’t go to livestreams because the ‘live’ being ‘streamed’ is bad. But I don’t think they would go even if it was amazing. It wasn’t until I went to London that I met other people who were into theatre. Up until then, everyone I had ever met didn’t think about it for longer than was actually necessary, and then only to conclude that it was Art and therefore boring. And, for all it talks about being modern and visceral, it is hard to shake the suspicion that theatre has decided that’s what it is too.

I realise this structure leads naturally towards a self-congratulatory Clever Solution, but fortunately for you I don’t have one. I don’t know how it happened, how to stop it, or whether I might not be wrong in thinking it’s happened at all. I know I don’t want livestreams to stop – beyond that all I can say with certainty is that I am a) confused, and b) unhappy.

So instead I will say this: theatre is fun. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise.

Is University really worth it?

Yes – Zak Watt

If you asked me where increased earning potential would figure in a ranking of my reasons for going to University, I would have to say it was fairly low, somewhere near the potential for sports stash and the ability to consume neon green VKs without being ostracised from society. While I am fully aware that for many University does, and has to, function as a means to financial freedom, the notion that this must to be the case for everyone is absurd. 

I’m not making the case that University has value in creating opportunities for a broader range of jobs even if they are not more well paid, or that University can develop ‘soft skills’ that can be helpful in the future, though these are both valid points. Rather I argue we should broaden what counts as valid reasons for wanting to go to University. To restrict this choice to a mere financial calculation is worryingly similar to restricting a ‘good life’ to maximisation of pleasure, and unfortunately the critique of utilitarianism is relevant to this reductive view of university; making decisions just isn’t that simple, there is no single algorithm.

An IFS report that found some students who attended university to be ‘worse off’ (financially) than their non-University counterparts, picks out English and Philosophy as being two of these courses. As someone who (for my sins) studies a course, a third of which is philosophy, I must say that while I’m pontificating on the finer details of George Berkeley’s metaphysics it has never once crossed my mind that this will boost my future income. 

For some students of English and Philosophy (among other courses) can’t we accept that their reason for attending University is a genuine interest in their subject, an intellectual itch that cannot be scratched in the world of work? Or perhaps more realistically, that University is one of the only times in life where one will be in such proximity to people of similar ages and interests? Why are these reasons any less rational or valid than financial ones?

Ask any adult who attended University what they most valued about their experience, I doubt many will even mention subsequent job opportunities. Similarly, the fact that the only a third of the Oxford trifecta of success (First, Spouse or Blue) includes anything even related to this tells us something of the variety of reasons people can reasonably have for going to University. 

This perspective doesn’t let Universities off the hook, needing only to be an incubator for young similarly minded people. But rather we shouldn’t only be comparing the financial difference between University and work, the relevant comparisons should also be the quality of intellectual exploration, the opportunities for meeting people and the calibre of memes that are circulated at University compared to in the real world. 

The idea that University is even largely about future earnings is implicit in areas of policy, journalism and most importantly when your mum recommends that you should study Maths instead of Philosophy because she’s heard it’s ‘really employable’. University is a time of exploration which perhaps shapes who you are as a person more than any other 3-year period in your life. Sure, people can go to University in sight of that sweet grad scheme pay check but to say that must be the reason is narrow-minded and not true to most people’s experience. So, before you accept the arguments about the unnecessary cost of Uni (if you don’t want to be a doctor or a lawyer), think about the other, arguably more important, reasons.

No – Colleen Cumbers

A recent study from the Institute for Fiscal Studies found that many university courses leave graduates no better off – or even worse off – than non-graduates. The now ex-minister for Universities, Sam Gyimah, rightly called for a ‘crackdown’ on universities that are not delivering value for money.  

The report highlights that certain universities and courses do not provide value. The majority of students envisage their degree providing a significant financial boost by the age of 29, but courses such as Creative Arts, Psychology and Social Care often do not deliver this. Similarly, certain universities as a whole provide no financial value. The Russell Group typically bucks this trend and offers good value for money, with one exception: The University of Glasgow.

Certain careers, such as a doctor or a lawyer, require you to go to university. Your degree is therefore valuable and opens up opportunities. However, for many young people, university has simply become a rite of passage. With degrees such as photography, baking technology and fashion pattern cutting (yes, that is a real degree) now appearing on some course lists, certain universities could easily be confused for a community centres.

There is the argument that university is about more than just the financial gain your degree provides. The diverse opportunities for personal growth are incredibly valuable. However, with most students taking out government loans to pay for their degree, the taxpayer is often footing the bill for this experience. Students who take degrees in non-academic subjects at universities outside the Russell Group often end up working in non-graduate roles and never pay back their loan in its entirety. This is detrimental for the individual, the government and taxpayers. 

Young people pursuing practical or vocational careers should be directed towards diplomas and apprenticeships which provide more relevant training and experience. The government’s proposed crackdown warns that it could strip institutions of their university status: this could be beneficial, enabling a clearer divide between academic institutions and vocational institutions. 

University should not be forced onto young people as something they have to go through, nor should it be seen as a rite of passage. Apprenticeships, diplomas and vocational training can provide as much life experience and, crucially, more real-world experience, than a traditional degree can. 

For the majority of jobs and careers out there, this is vital. People leaving university and being unable to find a job is a huge problem. If you have specific experience in your chosen field and the direct skills needed (as provided by a diploma or vocational training), then you are more likely to be able to get a job. Similarly, apprenticeships are a fantastic way of providing a certain amount of security while training. You get paid rather than paying and, if you do well, you may well have a job waiting for you at the end. This cannot be said of universities.  

A large problem with the education system in this country is that it often does not meet the skills need of our modern world. Traditional jobs such as dentist or engineer have an established route, however in the age of technology with the Fourth Industrial Revolution on the horizon, more and more new kinds of jobs are being created for which there is currently insufficient training. 

These jobs are more practical than academic and so a university often does not cater well to them as while degrees may show academic ability, specific training will still be required. On-the-job training with specific and modern qualifications must be prioritised in these areas and government funding should be directed to this form of education, otherwise the UK risks falling behind other technologically advanced countries. The government no longer having to foot the bill for financially unrewarding degrees would certainly be one way of re-directing funding. 

University should be an academic institution. The ‘crackdown’ on degrees should filter out unworthy courses and universities and ensure that young people are not being mis-sold degrees at £9250 a year when another route would serve them best. A one-size fits all approach simply does not work. 

  

Restaurant Review: Jee Saheb

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Indian cuisine seems quite the enigma in Oxford. Of course, there are some fan favourites, with Chutneys on St Michael’s Street being particularly popular. However, perhaps the most renown of Indian restaurants, Jamal’s, is mostly known for its willingness to host crew dates, not its actual food. Away from the Italian juggernauts on George Street or the plethora of French food on Little Clarendon Street, perhaps the sparseness of Indian food is, in fact, advantageous for the restaurants that do already exist. Less competition to tackle? However, it would be a real shame if one’s lasting impression of Oxford’s Indian food scene is violently thrown pennies and overly loud cries of ‘Shoe!’

This all brings me to Jee Saheb, a secluded, casual spot offering a variety of traditional and modern dishes from India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. It is tucked away on seemingly unexplored North Parade Avenue, a street that feels more Notting Hill than Central Oxford. As a result, despite its bare interior, Jee Saheb immediately feels cosy, a secret enclave away from the stress of essays, tutorials and Cornmarket. The staff are overwhelmingly friendly too: dressed uniformly, they seamlessly move throughout the restaurant, always directing smiles at their customers. There is a real sense of pride inside Jee Saheb, which makes it all the more surprising that the dishes took such a while to come out.

No one around me seems to care, however. Old family reunions, birthdays, friends just grabbing a quick bite, you name it – everyone is enjoying themselves, whilst indulging in some homely, delicious food. And when the food does finally come out, it truly is a joy.

A hearty Noorjahani Lamb for mains, its slightly sweet sauce balanced out by tender meat. The Chotpoti makes an impression too, a dish the size of your fist entirely packed with heat and flavour. A classical roadside dish originating from Bengal, it is typically consumed on Pahela Baishakh, a national holiday celebrating the first day of the Bengali calendar. Jee Saheb certainly brings this festive sensation to Oxford. Nevertheless, it may be the Naan that is most impressive. A faithful companion to any Indian meal, if done wrong it can sometimes be stale and bloat-inducing. Not at Jee Saheb. Light and utterly moreish, my friend and I happily sweep up the remnants of our mains with it, all the meat gone.

Here at Jee Saheb there are no frills, no gimmicks, no foolish experiments. This is classic, fantastic southern Asian cooking. Could you want much more?

Banishing elitist traditions, de-mystifying applications, and peer support

Recent revelations explain the eyebrows raised around me when I hesitantly took the plunge and applied to Oxford. Enthusiastic teachers and family members had been vital to my decision as I had seen zero effort by Oxford or Cambridge to sell themselves to able students from my town in the West Midlands, a region hardly famed for its Oxbridge track record. It is not only shocking how few black and ethnic minority students gain entrance, but how the odds are tilted unacceptably in favour of leading London private schools and the south-east.

The problem is one of outreach: it is all well and good basing entry entirely on much-vaunted ‘academic potential’, but what about those talented students who are simply too scared to try, totally unaware of their eligibility?

How, then, can we detoxify perceptions of applying to Oxford both among ethnic minority students, and schools above the Thames?

The debate is not solely about ethnicity: I’m white, ‘middle class’ and have always appreciated a little pomp and spectacle, but I still suffered an obvious culture shock upon arriving in Oxford. I’ve not quite taken to the gowns and quirky ceremonies just yet, but that’s not to say I never should have applied.

There is, nevertheless, much to be done. Remnants of that bygone age, of Old Boys – of Sebastian Flytes, Camerons and Osbornes – need to be laid to rest if we are to be rid of unhelpful stereotypes and encourage ‘normal’ and talented students to see Oxford in a better light. Sexist clubs and disturbing initiations must go, and academic prowess underlined.

Admissions tutors too need to be prepared to agree that an A-grade achieved at one type of school is not always equivalent to one achieved at another.

Yet it is important to remember that the problem is not entirely that of Oxford and Cambridge, or regional divides: ultimately, the decision to apply belongs to the applicant. Coming to Oxford has, after all, required a degree of acceptance of the eccentric and intriguingly old-fashioned, but at what point do the charms of ‘Hogwarts’ become elitist and inaccessible?

There is still work to do.

By Oliver Shaw

Recent figures released by the Sutton Trust reveal Oxford’s shocking access problem. This is a problem that needs to be addressed, and to do so requires an understanding of what causes the problem.

It’s very easy to point a finger at forces acting beyond our control. The broader system of private schools ‘just being better’, perhaps. But it’s far more constructive to look past that to something that can be changed. From there, an issue that can be pinpointed as keeping disadvantaged students away from Oxford is the complexity of the application system.

Students at private schools have an easier time of this: they have a steady stream of history on their side. People from their school can come back and teach them the ins and outs of aptitude test structures and grill them in thorough practise interviews. They head into a situation of applying to Oxford already knowing exactly what’s expected of them, or at least with a pretty good idea.

To an extent, the University and some state schools are trying to address this. Access programmes such as UNIQ and school staff who advise on Oxbridge applications attempt to bridge the gap in knowledge and experience. But the fact is that access programmes cannot reach every necessary student and some teachers give advice that’s decades out of date.

Therein lies the other access problem Oxford is facing: the widespread perception of the University as an elitist institution inaccessible to anyone but the most perfect of students. Rumours fly from ill-informed but well-meaning staff members of the necessity of four A-Levels, A*A*A predictions for a course with AAA requirements, a string of A*s at GCSE, an instrument or two under your belt, and half a library of reading on every imaginable topic.

When it comes to figures such as those released in the Sutton Trust report, it’s easy to see why access is such a problem. Why bother applying to a university where the odds are stacked against you from the beginning, or when no one in your school is expected to gain results on par with the Oxbridge average?

The statistics cannot and will not change overnight. What can and should change, however, is the transparency of the application procedure and how many students therefore feel like they have the knowledge to at least give an Oxford application a shot.

By Sam Gillard

The Sutton Trust social mobility charity recently released statistics revealing that in the past three years, eight elite schools sent more students to Oxford and Cambridge than 2900 other schools combined. I went to one of those schools, Magdalen College School, which last year sent 44 people to Oxbridge out of a year group of around 150. Though I find these numbers appalling, I don’t find them surprising.

It is true that having more resources helps massively: we had teachers with Oxbridge backgrounds, we were given dedicated classes to prepare us for admissions tests, and those who wanted to could (mostly) apply for re-marks without considering the cost. But I don’t think that’s the only difference. One of the biggest access bottlenecks is applications: somebody from a school like mine is much more likely to apply than somebody with the same predicted grades from one of those 2900 other schools. That isn’t surprising when you consider that, in those schools, it would be rare for more than a few people to have got into Oxbridge in recent memory, whereas for me and my friends there were dozens of role models in the years above. On top of that, once you’re sending 40 or so people a year to Oxbridge, you’re going to attract applications from people for whom such a school is feasible and who want to follow suit. The whole thing begins to snowball, and the process is normalised. My tutors at Oxford have said that to do well in a philosophy degree, you have to talk about philosophy with your friends. It does seem to help: three people from Magdalen’s philosophy club are now philosophy first years at Oxford.

When I was 15, I did well enough in the Intermediate Maths Olympiad to be invited to a summer camp. There, I met other high-scoring young mathematicians, from all across the country, and from many different backgrounds and types of schools. When the week ended, many of us stayed in contact, discussing interesting maths problems, and later, university applications. Three years down the line, almost everybody applied to Oxbridge, and most got in. That camp offered some of the critical advantages that Magdalen did: connecting promising students, and letting them support each other. However, the camp was designed to be entirely meritocratic, and it only lasted a week.

The access debate is a complex one, and I am aware that peer support is only one facet. But I think this particular facet helps explain how so few schools can become so dominant. It’s not just about the money these pupils’ families may have. While I must admit that I might not have competed in the Olympiad if my school hadn’t made me, I have seen first hand that it is possible to create environments outside school that offer this same benefit and that are, importantly, accessible to more people.

Anonymous

True West Review – ‘this is truly sweet suburban silence’

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Sam Shepard’s True West is a show that seems as relevant today as it did almost 30 years ago when it was first published. It explores the aspirations of real people, the American dream and the revelation that it is always just out of reach.

Kit Harington, playing clean-cut writer Austin, appears on the stage before the production begins. He sits at the table and writes a few words before wandering to the kitchen to get a glass of water. There is a sense that this is nothing out of the ordinary: this is the audience’s insight into the life of a normal, suburban man. Austin’s attempts to finish writing his screenplay are disrupted by older brother Lee, played by Johnny Flynn, complete with low sideburns and a short temper. The brothers appear to be opposites in every way, down to Austin’s proclamation that he “loves beginnings” whilst Lee is “partial to endings”. The two soon realise they are perhaps more similar than it initially appeared, with Lee longing for the stability that comes with a regular job, and Austin coveting Lee’s exciting lifestyle in the desert.

The staging is sublime ­– Harington lights a cigarette before plunging the stage into darkness and silence, accompanied only by candlelight. This is truly ‘sweet suburban silence’. Harington and Flynn do not rush: they savour the silences and lean into them, drawing the audience into indescribable tension. Any set alterations are performed in almost complete darkness, offset by funky ska-music. The set itself is interesting, with forced perception allowing for minimal set changes except to force the room deeper into disarray as the play progresses. This is the work of Jon Bausor, set director and costume designer, who creates an utterly convincing 80s-era setting.

Overall, act one is slow-moving, serving to establish the chalk-and-cheese personalities of Austin and Lee. This is possibly where the play falls down, as there seems to be no direction for the plot to move in. Flynn takes the limelight here as a slightly manic, drunken thief compared to Harington’s Austin who pales in comparison. By the end of the first act, however, we begin to see Austin’s slow descent into insanity, prompted by Lee’s overnight success. It is here that Harington shines as the frenzied writer desperate to escape his ordinary life and pushed to the edge by his own ambition. Some laughs are garnered, particularly in Harington’s scene in the second act accompanied by eight toasters and a whole lot of bread. The second act is certainly more entertaining than the first, with the action picking up and the brothers seeming to resent each other more by the minute.

True West was an enjoyable performance – the actors were polished and professional, featuring Donald Sage Mackay and Madeleine Potter as excellent supporting actors as a film producer and the brothers’ mother respectively. The first act is slow and drawn-out, though this only makes the second act more enjoyable in comparison. Harington and Flynn are compelling as typical American westerners who want what the other has, proving that the grass really may not be greener on the other side.

Chanel Métiers d’Art: the star-spangled update Lagerfeld needed

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In classic Lagerfeld style, Chanel Pre-Fall AW19 took place against the breathtaking backdrop of the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Temple of Dendur. And this time, the collection was as enchanting as its surroundings.

Previous fashion weeks have seen Chanel transform the Grand Palais into an authentic leaf-strewn forest, a beach complete with a sand runway, and a towering, flowing waterfall. Yet for some, the accompanying lines (such as the dull, grey suits of the AW18 collection) have fallen decidedly flat in recent years. Was Lagerfeld falling behind in the wake of fresh new designers like Virgil Abloh and Simon Porte Jacquemus?

If his most recent collection is anything to go by, I would argue not. The line draws inspiration from Ancient Greece, yet manages to retain a distinctly modern feel through the use of sparkling metallics and edgy black leather – a far cry from Chanel’s usual conservative tweed. Whilst the theme brought a sense of mysticism to the show, Lagerfeld’s philosophy was abundantly clear: this season, more is more.

The show began in a relatively understated manner. Models took to the runway in outfits that brought a festive feel with their glittering fabrics, yet retained the essence of Chanel, combining smart jacket and skirt combinations with heavy, statement jewelry. As the presentation went on, however, the line unveiled pieces that rendered the label’s image practically unrecognisable; gold mini-dresses dripping with coloured jewels followed black leather trench coats, paired with knee-high metallic boots. Embellishment was key, with black, gold and blue sequins adorning structured collars and shoulders.

Whilst Chanel might not usually seem like the first port of call for glamorous evening-wear, this collection might just be the perfect inspiration for a festive Christmas-party outfit. Lagerfeld’s line is comfortingly wearable in comparison to those presented by houses such as Versace, whose hectic mix of prints seems intimidating and unworkable off the runway. Valentino points us towards red, ruffles, and seemingly nothing else – Christmassy, for sure, yet not especially varied or exciting.

So what can we take away from Lagerfeld’s latest offering? For those tired of the conventional girly mini-dress, opt for a more androgynous trouser suit, complete with an oversized jacket and bold, printed shirt. The classic long evening dress is given a glitzy update, encouraging flowing, sheer fabrics to be layered with beautiful embellished mini-skirts and bandeaus. Practicality need not be sacrificed in favour of style; think bright, graphic knitwear (to be paired with dazzling metallic trousers if you’re feeling really adventurous). And for accessories? The line sees cuffs and collars take centre stage; forget delicate, barely-there necklaces – this season is all about statement gold pieces encrusted with as many jewels and beads as possible.

With the recent announcement as that of May 2019, Chanel will no longer use exotic skins and fur in its future collections; could Lagerfeld be heading towards a more modern, less traditional brand image for Chanel? The world of fashion is certainly undergoing a critical period of change, seeing younger generations call for a more up-to-date and sustainable industry, and it is undoubtedly the responsibility of designers to meet this demand or else risk losing credibility. Whilst the collection divided opinion amongst critics, with some branding it OTT and simplistic, it no doubt marks an attempt by Lagerfeld to keep Chanel relevant in such a swiftly modernising industry – and this can surely be no bad thing.

It might displease hardened traditionalists, but I for one am excited to see what the future holds for Chanel.

 

Poetry in motion: the nature of lyrics

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With the recent publication of Kate Bush’s selected lyrics, How to Be Invisible (Faber & Faber), the question as to whether lyrics should be considered poetry’s equal – which has remained for me a pressing one ever since I first fell in love with Lana Del Rey one lonely January in 2015 – demands interrogation.

The novelist David Mitchell, in his introduction to Bush’s collection, seems anxious to maintain a distinction, describing the lyrics in the book as “presented in a poetry format […] but […] avowedly not poetry”. He talks of lyrics on a page as “a boat in dry-dock”, without the “elements that buoy them and determine their velocity”. Yet I would call into question the extent to which this is true of Bush’s lyrics, or indeed those of any songwriter.

Perhaps when reading lyrics outside a musical context we do not experience them as the song from which they originate but as something entirely new, which is itself no less valid. Is it not a productive act to have the lyrics “buoy[ed]” entirely by the reader, without the influence of music to establish an over-arching mood, a tempo, and an intensity? It is a process which must, by virtue of its difference, generate new, alternative readings, and is this not the nature of literature? When Mitchell says that Bush’s lyrics “work […] in similar mysterious ways” to literature, does he not mean that they in fact are literature themselves?

This question of lyrics as literature is by no means untrodden ground. Bob Dylan’s winning of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2016 sparked debate, and the publication earlier this year of Florence Welch’s book of lyrics and poems Useless Magic blurred genre lines further still. It is interesting that in her preface Welch describes her songs as “bigger and stronger than [she] is”, whilst the act of “just writ[ing] something down and let[ting] it stay there, on the page, seems to [her] an enormously vulnerable thing”. What Welch is touching upon here is the same “buoy[ing]” up identified by Mitchell, but where for him the music serves to determine the inferred meaning from the words, for Welch, music is an act of retreat behind sound when worlds alone say so very much. This is literature’s strength piercing the medium of song.

In the preface Welch goes on to describe how, for her, poetry and lyrics “have started to bleed into each other”, yet much the same can be said for all number of artists. Lana Del Rey, for example, in her 2012 EP Paradise, takes the name of her song ‘Body Electric’ from the Walt Whitman poem ‘I Sing the Body Electric’; the music video of her single ‘Ride’ draws heavily in its imagery from the poems of Allen Ginsberg, an influence which sees its culmination in her 2013 short film Tropico with its direct quotation of Ginsberg’s ‘Howl’. Likewise, the Tennyson quote on the back cover of Bush’s masterpiece The Hounds of Love is just one example of the rich intertextual tapestry so characteristic of her work, and Mary Oliver begins her 2012 collection A Thousand Mornings with Bob Dylan epigraphs: clearly, lyricists can’t escape the influence of poets, and vice versa.

Lyrics, then, seem hardly to differ from poetry in any substantial way. Indeed, the two media can often be in dialogue with one another to such an extent that they become one, as in the work of poet-cum-rapper Kate Tempest (for example, Let Them Eat Chaos). The only real difference between a set of lyrics and a poem of Bush’s How to Be Invisible is that the lyric-writer will make far more liberal use of repetition than most poets would allow themselves to, as if somehow, we expect more of words when they are meant for the page; demand that each one mean something new and take us a little further onwards towards meaning. Perhaps – erroneously – we expect more from words when they are written down. Should we not treat our lyrics with the same respect as we treat our poems? And should we not be as kind to our poems as to our lyrics, forgiving when reiteration is all poet has to offer? Because a song is as much a poem as a poem is a song, in that both linger in the mind, and change the way we see the world around us. So the next time someone suggests to you that those lyrics you prize, those lyrics that you hold fast to your heart in the night, those lyrics that saw you through, are not worthy of the name ‘literature’, you need only keep in mind Bush’s refrain from ‘The Song of Solomon’: “Don’t want excuses, yeah / Write me your poetry in motion”, such poetic movement being the true nature of lyrics.