Thursday 17th July 2025
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Historians slam plans to replace display cases at University museum

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Plans to replace the wooden display cases at the Oxford University Museum of Natural History have been met with criticism from historians and architects.

The University submitted proposals to replace the wooden cases with new glass cabinets, to the dismay of some prominent members of the architectural community.

The history of the wooden cases dates back to the 1860s, when construction on the museum was completed.

The cases have since been replaced by 20th century replicas, and are seen by over 750,000 visitors to the museum each year.

The cases occupy the central court of the museum, and house many of its specimens. The entire collection is valued at around £7 million.

A heritage assessment carried out by the University claimed that the changes made to the cabinets over time had diminished their value, concluding that they made only a “small positive contribution” to the historic value of the museum.

Secretary of the Victorian group of the Oxfordshire Architectural and Historical Society, Peter Howell, said: “It is an astonishing indictment of Oxford University, and of the Museum in particular, that no research has been done into the origin of these cases.

“The contribution which these cases make to the architectural and historical value of the Museum is inestimable.

“The argument in the application that ‘the fact that they evoke a sense of history is fortuitous rather than designed’ is utterly absurd.”

Peter Howell labelled the move “utterly absurd”

Architectural historian Frederick O’Dwyer has claimed that the wooden cases were an important part of architects Thomas Deane and Benjamin Woodward’s original 19th century design of the museum.

He said: “The fact that the display cases are in part 20th century replicas – with similar construction features – of Deane and Woodward’s designs – rather than the original of 1859-62, does not devalue their importance particularly as they were designed as part of an integrated architectural and decorative scheme by Deane and Woodward.”

Architect Birkin Haward, who wrote about the Museum in Architects’ Journal in 1989, also disagreed with the University’s assessment.

He said: “It would affect a critical element of the design of this wonderful building and as a consequence totally alter one’s perception and enjoyment of the interior forever.

“If [the plan] goes through I have absolutely no doubt it will be seen as a matter of regret for years to come.”

Historic England stated that it had no objection to the replacement of the cases, due to the ‘long history’ of alterations they have undergone and the lack of original material remaining.

RSC Macbeth Review: ‘technical wizardry fails to bring any tension or magic’

The Royal Shakespeare Company has thrown everything they’ve got at this production and it really hasn’t worked. Set in what might as well be a bleak modern school hall, the play’s technical wizardry fails to bring any tension or magic. From lightning effects around the stalls to billowing smoke and vast wall-sized projections, the current version of Macbeth in the main house is clearly designed to be a modern-day theatrical spectacle and yet it falls a long way short.

This seems to be due to the Marvel effect: actors’ best efforts being hidden away under ceaseless special effects. The Banquo’s ghostly appearance to Macbeth at the head of a long dynastic apparition, for example, is a crucial scene in any production of ‘The Scottish Play’, and yet in this production it barely registered with the audience as a result of an overabundance of technicality. Dimly-lit crowns appear behind glass in a raised corridor, while the shadowy ghost of Banquo vaguely points at them in the background as Macbeth monologues upstage – astonishingly, neither of the people I went with could remember this after the show, which I can only presume was down to how much smoke was filling the stage at the time.

Past successes make it difficult to pinpoint what made this technology friendly Macbeth so soulless. Previous RSC productions have made use of similarly extravagant effects and spectacle (2011’s phenomenal Merchant of Venice) and bare sets (the most recent Coriolanus) alike.

It may be the total lack of emotional connection the characters fostered in the audience’s hearts that is the issue. The set and effects – while certainly needlessly complex – cannot be described as overshadowing good acting. It seems plausible that such details been turned up to 11 in an attempt to mask some less-than-compelling performances and bizarre directorial decisions.

Vague attempts to explain Lady Macbeth’s madness through repeated and unnecessary hammering home of how many people she’d indirectly been involved with killing are both clunky and ineffective. Giving the murderer of MacDuff’s children a voice recorder which inexplicably later comes into her possession seemed to suggest that the audience has been deemed incapable of thinking for themselves.

Christopher Eccleston’s Macbeth, meanwhile, is shouty and uncompelling, though there are admittedly brilliant flashes of what might have been as he writhes in agony at the appearance of Banquo’s ghost. For the most part, however, Eccleston’s Macbeth seems to be simply going through the motions of killing, governing, and fighting; it is as if there is no emotion or even real intent behind his actions. In a recent interview in the Radio Times, Eccleston commented that “when the BBC did The Hollow Crown series…I didn’t even get a call. Didn’t get an audition…did they think I’m a crap actor?” You might think that, Christopher… but I couldn’t possibly comment.

It is perhaps worth noting, however, that at one crucial moment he hurled a bread roll over a table – only for the roll to bounce and land perfectly balanced on the back of a chair, briefly bringing a stunned silence to the theatre as the entire cast and audience stared on in disbelief. To say that Eccleston’s performance was upstaged by a bread roll might be a little harsh, but I’d be interested to hear from any other RSC-goers in the next few weeks whether or not he manages to repeat this astonishing feat before the end of the run.

A further issue was the editing of Shakespeare’s text; in order to achieve a snappy run-time of 2.5 hours (including interval), many lines have had to be cut. In the main, this was an admirably smooth process which led to a pleasantly pacy production – in other cases, however, such editing was little short of sacrilege for anyone even remotely familiar with the play. The Apparition’s famous urging of Macbeth to be “bloody, bold, and resolute” has been done away with; in its place a rogue between-scenes toast of the same line between two minor characters, losing all the line’s gravity and significance, and leaving the audience perplexed as to why it had been included at all. Moreover, Banquo’s last moving last words to his son before he is murdered – “o, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! Thou mayst revenge” – have been removed altogether. The curious decision to project other quotes onto the very top of the set provides little restitution from this, instead distracting and detracting from what lines are left to be spoken onstage.

Projection forms a major element of the production design – not only the quotes, but also places (“GLAMIS”) and updates on the passage of time (“LATER” / “NOW”) are broadcast to the audience in bright white letters three feet high. While the programme insists that this is to remind the audience of Macbeth’s preoccupation with time, it left me unavoidably thinking of time-lapses in Spongebob Squarepants  – “THREE HOURS LATER” flashed through my mind at multiple unfortunate moments of the play. On a similarly anachronistic theme, perhaps the oddest directorial decision made in the entire production was to have a digital red second-by-second countdown clock ticking down for the last two hours of the performance, relentlessly central to the audience’s view of the stage. While at times putting me in mind of a ticking bomb or even an episode of Bake Off (“MacDuff! You have one hour remaining!”), the annoyance of constantly knowing how long is left (for the audience, not for play’s actual time-frame) ultimately seems more akin to leaving the mouse on the screen while watching YouTube, and hence condemning yourself to the timer at the bottom.

This is not to say, however, that the production is entirely without merit. It picks up considerably in the second half, as the superb pairing of Edward Bennett (MacDuff) and Luke Newberry (Malcolm) were able to breathe convincing life into Shakespeare’s words at last; the reveal that MacDuff’s children have been killed is heartbreaking, in stark contrast to Eccleston later skating over the death of Lady Macbeth in the least moving portrayal of a spouse’s death I have ever seen. Michael Hodgeson, as the Porter, is both the most memorable and most perplexing part of the production – no mean feat. The porter is often portrayed as a jolly or drunken character, but the current production casts him as a caretaker, constantly sweeping the carpet and chalking up an ever-increasing tally of deaths on the very wall of the theatre, in a sufficiently ominous fashion to – all too briefly – inject some sense of suspense into the play.

Nevertheless, this production is very nearly worth seeing for the coronation scene alone. Suitably imposing music vibrating through the theatre, a red carpet plunges towards the front row, and Eccleston enters swathed in what might just be the most substantial cloak ever created. With an almighty swish, he turns to face upstage, kneels, and is crowned. Unfortunately, however, the subsequent scene is stolen by some very distracting re-rolling of the carpet; quite why this could not have been left until the end of the act escaped me.

Controversial an opinion as it may be, it seems possible that these faults are simply part of a much larger problem: perhaps Macbeth is just very hard to stage. The RSC’s 2011 attempt was unfortunately very forgettable, and the current production at the National Theatre has suffered from poor reviews despite a sterling cast (Rory Kinnear! Anne-Marie Duff! What could possibly go wrong?). Even Kenneth Brannagh’s legendary staging of Macbeth on a traverse stage in a deconsecrated Manchester church struggled to find a compelling way to balance the intimate conversations between the Macbeths with the necessary enormity of the final battle. Quite how Shakespeare intended it to be staged, we will never know – but what is clear is that the current Marvel-esque RSC version is a long way from doing justice to one of Shakespeare’s most eloquently written and emotionally tumultuous plays.

Civilisations Review: Repeating the same mistakes

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Civilisations, on paper, should work. Its aim is to update Kenneth Clarke’s documentary series Civilisation, which aired in 1969 and traced the development of art across history. The original series gained plaudits for its high production standards, thus setting the bar for the BBC history documentary over the next fifty years.

But it also came in for sharp criticism for its exclusive focus on male artists, for its deterministic depiction of the development of the Western canon, and for its Eurocentrism. Not surprising, for a documentary crafted 50 years ago, but Simon Schama, Mary Beard, and David Olusoga, the terrible trio chosen to update this BBC relic, fell foul of all the same potholes. Tasked with modernisation they didn’t quite pull it off.

Civilisations, try as it might, can’t break free from the paradigm of Eurocentrism. It’s really the story of one civilisation; the plural in the title is merely decorative. Mary Beard as a classicist,  predictably speaks mainly about Ancient Rome and Ancient Greece. In the episode ‘How Do We Look’ she touches upon Olmec art, but even this is considered from a ‘European way of seeing’, an understanding within the bound of the cognitive world of a European looker.

The underlying, and seemingly unalterable, issue here is that BBC shows are produced for BBC audiences, who in their vast majority are British. Our cultural upbringing, our education, and the world around us have fed us the same teleological narrative which Civilisations can do little to escape; The classical civilisations of Rome and Greece begat the Renaissance, which begat the Enlightenment, which in turn begat industrialisation, which begat the modern world.

Popular history appeals to this familiar storyline, by giving us Lucy Worsley talking about how the Tudors and the Stuarts helped forge the Britain we know and love today, or Dan Snow recounting how Winston Churchill inspired the nation to overcome the greatest evil the world has ever faced.

David Olusoga reinforces this narrative in ‘First Contact’. The aim of the episode is a noble one: to show that cultural synthesis is the product of two civilisations coming into contact with one another. Yet every example he gives is of a European as the active agent in the relationship. This serves only to reinforce the idea of European dynamism and superiority in the so-called ‘Age of Discovery’.

Where is the blending of Indic and Islamic art forms which happened across the subcontinent; what about the first contact between the societies of South East Asia and the Sufi mystics who dominated the Indian Ocean? These major ‘first contacts’ don’t get airtime because they would confuse and unsettle audiences; an early modern world culturally dominated by Islam would not fit in with the narrative of European progress and civilisation, so it is helpfully removed from the narrative.

Civilisations shows us what is wrong with television history: it is comfortable, easy, armchair viewing that reaffirms the place of Britain, and of the West, in the minds and the eyes of the viewer. It doesn’t challenge its audience to go beyond the pales of their imaginations and consider a truly different hierarchy of world civilisations where the West isn’t on top.

Most damningly, Civilisations fails to grapple with perhaps the most fundamental issue when approaching comparative and inclusive art history; the study of art over time as an academic discipline is itself a Western invention.

Civilisations rarely offers the opportunity for non-Western art, and more broadly non-Western culture, to be seen on its own terms, and treated in its own right. Civilisations pitches itself as a ground-breaking reimagining of art history documentaries. Unfortunately, we are still waiting for such a renaissance.

Oxford PhD student reaches final four of MasterChef

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An Oxford PhD student is through to the final four of this year’s MasterChef.

Nawamin Pinpathomrat, who studies at the Jenner Institute, will compete in the last four after a strong performance on the first night of the show’s ‘Finals Week’ where his dishes impressed judges John Torode and Greg Wallace.

He told Cherwell: “It means a lot to me being a MasterChef final four. Honestly, I didn’t expect to make it this far but I enjoyed every single moment in the competition.

“Of course, I’m excited to be in the final but also nervous at the same time. The standard is getting higher and higher. I have to cook to perfection while I have to finish my experiments and write my DPhil thesis – no pressure!”

Torode said that the 27-year-old had “absolutely smashed it”, while Wallace labelled his trout and rice, presented as a lotus flower, “the dish of the day”.

At the start of the night, the contestant said that at the end of the show, he wanted to be “NawamIN, not NawamOUT”.

He said that he made the food that his Grandma would cook for him as a homecoming meal.

Pinpathomrat has secured a cult social media following after his charismatic performances throughout the series.

The student, who trained as a doctor in his native Thailand, said that cooking and medicine have some similarities.

He said: “Being a doctor, basically, the patients come to see you, they’re ill and then you treat them to make them like happy and that’s so rewarding.

“It’s exactly the same thing with cooking, when people come to my place, I cook for them and then, ‘It’s so lovely, I haven’t had this food before in my life!’

“It’s like that’s good, that’s rewarding so actually the same thing.”

Last week, Michelin-starred chef Nathan Outlaw described a mousse than Pinpathomran had prepared as “a new thing for me”.

“I’ve come here today, I can learn from you – no problem,” he said.

Wednesday night’s episode will see the final four contestants travel to Lima, Peru to “try out a cuisine they had never tried before.”

The final of this year’s series will take place on Friday night.

Finalist thanks ‘legends’ after notes and laptop stolen

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A PPE student has thanked “legends” for coming to her aid after her notes and laptop were stolen six weeks before her finals.

Anne-Marie Downes’ notes and laptop were taken from a car in Durham.

Downes tweeted an appeal in the hope that the notes could be found. The tweet has now been retweeted more than 12,000 times with many sending in their own notes to help the 21-year-old.

She told Cherwell: “I guess just that this has all been a bit of a nightmare and whoever nicked my bag has not helped with the pre-finals tension, and if anyone is in Durham please keep a lookout.

“Also though there is something pretty special about trying to work out how to explain all this to my Study Skills mentor at the DAS only to have him preempt me with ‘I know all about what’s happened because I saw Frankie Boyle’s retweet of your message.’

“Also, the philosophy and politics students who have been sending me their notes are legends and I’m incredibly grateful.”

 

She tweeted: “I’m so so grateful to everyone sharing this and giving advice, especially to those who have said they live in the area and can have a look around!”

She added: “It’s such a testament to the power of twitter that so many people are helping me – my friend has joked that we should be tagging tweets with

She told the BBC her plan was to “cobble together” the notes she has been sent. She said: “People have rallied around and I am beginning to hope I might pass this degree after all.”

Downes also posted a plea for help on Facebook. Her post received 57 reacts and was shared 64 times.

Yesterday (Saturday 7th April) between 12 and 3pm our car was broken into in Durham in the car park in Pimlico, just off…

Posted by Anne-Marie Downes on Sunday, April 8, 2018

Durham Police said: “Due to the nature of the items taken, they are likely of little value to the culprit, but their loss has caused significant distress to the victim.”

TEDDY Review – ‘Music is a point of connection between then and now’

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Who would have thought that spending a Tuesday evening under the arches of Waterloo Station would turn out to be so enjoyable? Strictly speaking, The Vaults Theatre isn’t directly under the arches. More importantly though, the venue succeeds in evoking the post-Blitz London of Tristan Bernays’ award-winning musical TEDDY, a rock ’n’ roll piece set in 1956 Elephant and Castle. Set designer Max Dorey has transformed the versatile space, entrance included, into a derelict, bombed-out building.

The two-level stage appears fairly simple, but, with its huge advertisements for Brillo pads and Camp Coffee, it more than manages to conjure up the consumerist ideal of the American Dream which seeped into England after the Second World War. As we take our seats, the mist onstage seems slightly distracting. However, a sign from the council that warns against the teens gathering in the space is soon visible, subtly symbolising a generational divide. The sign becomes representative of an opposition to self-expression, against which the youngsters of this musical fight. The teens are frustrated by their lack of money, prospects and culture. They idolise their rock ’n’ roll hero: the American import Johnny Valentine. As we take our seats, the four-piece band, including lead singer Johnny Valentine (energetically played by Dylan Wood), strikes up 1950s melodies in what promises to be an immersive and dynamic production.

The narrative focuses on two teenagers, Josie and Teddy (Molly Chesworth and George Parker), who, bored with the monotony of their lives, dream of escaping to America and travelling in an American convertible. Seeing himself as the next Johnny Valentine, Teddy plans to take America by storm. Chesworth and Parker are completely compelling as the bored, deprived teenagers who live solely for all things American, and Johnny Valentine in particular.

Bernays’ script is partly written in rhyme, and uses the two leads to narrate the events of their Saturday night. Such an approach is particularly ingenious, allowing the protagonists to seamlessly morph into the different characters they encounter: from the grotesque and leeringly lecherous Tully making passes at Josie, to the elderly, aggressive pawnbroker. Chesworth and Parker carry this demanding script most effectively. In fact, the performances of the whole cast are convincing and energetic, whilst carefully drawing out the nuances of the script and the period.

Whilst beginning by narrating a seemingly banal, typical Saturday evening, tension quickly builds when a gun is produced by Teddy in a show of fearlessness, with the aim of finding money to pay for a concert ticket. As Josie procures the gun and points it at Teddy’s chest, the menacing music, paired with Parker’s highly convincing terror, culminate in creating one (of several) crescendos of tension in this musical.

The athleticism of the two actors as they dance and dash around the stage is particularly noticeable. The choreography is at times very demanding, but these two actors step up to the challenge admirably.

Speaking to Tristan Bernays about his influences for the play, he astutely cites the 2011 riots. Clearly, the idea of teenage rebellion is something which resounds as much today as it did back then. Music is also a point of connection between then and now, linking rebellious youngsters from different generations. Every generation has their own genre of music, and both then and now, such music may be recreated in a teenage bedroom. Anger at rejection, and the need to escape the monotony of everyday life remain pertinent, just as the good looking teen idol with a guitar remains the romantic rebel.

TEDDY is a fantastic piece of theatre which immerses the audience in 1950s culture and the issues of the time, whilst remaining highly engaging.

TEDDY runs at The Vaults Theatre until Sunday 3rd June 2018.

The past is the future of TV

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America is in the grips of a cultural revolution. While the general trends of TV tend towards a bright future of streaming, critically acclaimed mini-series, and a wealth of big-name talent on the smaller screen, the vice of nostalgia is beginning to grip America’s airwaves. That idea might make you jump automatically to Stranger Things, but a broader trend of decades-old shows being brought back for a new generation is gathering momentum.

Much like the worst of Hollywood’s continuing fascination with remakes and reboots, the current trend of TV shows being revived and the stale, unchanged nature of the revived shows are enough to make any TV lover weep with frustration. But that doesn’t mean they’re not worth examining. If the ratings for the Roseanne revival are anything to go by, the past may well be the future.

Roseanne is a show which has never had much of a cultural presence in the UK, but between 1988 and 1997 it was pretty much the number one show in the US. Its resurrection this month, after 20 years off the airwaves, has been met with headline-grabbing and controversy, from its astonishingly high ratings to the fact that President Trump called to congratulate Roseanne Barr, the show’s star and real-life vocal Conservative, despite not ringing a single family affected by the Parkland tragedy.

Its resurrection in today’s political climate is genuinely fascinating. It says a lot about the predominant creative mindset on ABC that they would rather resurrect a show about blue-collar, middle-American Conservatives than create a new show with similar ideals.

But it is nice to see a major network reviving a show that is at least conceptually noteworthy by virtue of being aired in a completely different pop cultural landscape than it initially aired in. Netflix haven’t yet managed to complete that same trick despite many more attempts, having ordered continuations of Arrested Development, Gilmore Girls and Fuller House, to name but a few.

Every new season Netflix has ordered seems to demonstrate the pitfalls of rebooting an old show. Arrested Development tried to redo an ensemble comedy where all the members of the ensemble were too famous and busy to sync up their schedules, resulting in a fractured, pale imitation of a once-great show. Revisiting Gilmore Girls seemed only to throw a spotlight on the very worst parts of the original series in the eyes of many fans, and Fuller House seemed only to fare well because Full House was never a show that set the bar very high to begin with.

But to Netflix, none of that really matters. They have a near-bottomless pit of cash to make content with, and as long as they’re creating original content that’s growing their subscriber base, they’re perfectly happy reviving old shows, even if the revivals aren’t particularly good. The revivals are still original, exclusive content, but with an inbuilt audience who are much more likely to revisit a show they remember than to flock to something brand new. Using an existing show as a springboard is also likely to make the creative process significantly easier.

The big question at the end of all if this is: which show will be revived next? Is it too soon to resurrect Parks and Recreation, How I Met Your Mother, or The US Office? Would Friends be able to weather another storm of Buzzfeed articles about how horrendously outdated many of its storylines now are? Has Curb Your Enthusiasm given you hope for a Seinfeld reunion? Make no mistake, folks: whether or not you’re happy with it being a controlling factor in what airs on your tellybox, nostalgia is a cultural force that’s here to stay.

Kacey Musgraves basks in newfound light on her latest album, Golden Hour

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Kacey Musgraves’  new album has been a long time coming.  Last year’s Christmas album aside, Golden Hour is the first original material the American country star has released for almost three years. It seems apt, then, that the first track is titled ‘Slow Burn’.

Musgraves (always Kacey to her fans) burst onto the country scene in 2013 with Grammy award-winning Same Trailer Different Park, which positioned her as a challenge to the Nashville establishment from the beginning. Deemed by producers to be “too slow” and “too sad”, her first single, “Merry Go ’Round”, went on to become a modern country classic; this was followed by gay-positive anthem “Follow Your Arrow”, which ruffled feathers among the genre’s traditionally conservative fanbase.

Two years later, Musgraves followed up with Pageant Material, a tongue-in-cheek dissection of Southern small-town life, that speared Nashville’s ‘good ol’ boys club’ even more explicitly. Her music has overcome noticeably lukewarm support from country radio, been  heartily received by critics and sold reasonably, although not spectacularly, well.

Her much-anticipated third album, however, would have to wait, because in October 2017, Musgraves got married. Her marriage to fellow country singer Ruston Kelly was not just a source of personal happiness—but of emotional inspiration and expression. In a recent interview, Musgraves described having “a kind of personal metamorphosis… I feel like I kind of came out of a shell that I didn’t really even know that I was in”. And in “Butterflies”, the first song she wrote after meeting Kelly, she admits “I was hiding in doubt till you brought me out of my chrysalis”.

This feeling is immediately obvious in the album’s sound – Golden Hour blurs the boundaries of country to incorporate a range of other influences. The piano ballads and lush instrumentation recall 70s-era Elton John and Fleetwood Mac, while there’s a hint of Daft Punk in the vocoder on “Oh, What a World”. “High Horse”, the climax of the album and one of its best songs, uses synths and disco beats to joyful effect.

But, for me, it is the lyrical transformation that stands out. Musgraves’ trademark witty wordplay is still sprinkled in places – “you’ll ride the high horse/and I’ll take the high road” – but the tone has changed. No longer an external observer of the idiosyncrasies of small-town America, Musgraves becomes much more introspective. The album leaf explains how each song loosely describes the “different masks” that represent “different sides of ourselves”. Arguably, Golden Hour shows Musgraves deconstructing her former façade of the sarcastic misfit, to reveal the contradictions and complexities beneath.

“Happy & Sad” reaches exquisite poignancy in the contrast between Musgraves’ veil of self-confidence and the admission that actually she’s “the kind of person/who gets kinda nervous/when I’m having the time of my life”. Another song sees her addressing the impossible standards of a ‘good wife’, with the confession that “I ain’t Wonder Woman” because “I’m only human”. It’s a love song to any perfectly imperfect marriage.

Golden Hour’s personal turn was perhaps unexpected after the recent tumults in American politics. Admittedly, I would still love Kacey to turn her acerbic wit to a more explicitly political album, along the lines of Margo Price’s gritty All American Made. But personal doesn’t equal apolitical. Hope courses through Golden Hour – in “Love is a Wild Thing”, Musgraves sings “there’s no way to stop [love], but they’ll try to”. It’s ‘love Trumps hate’ in a country-rock nutshell. And as the album fades out with Rainbow, Musgraves’ voice rises above the soft piano chords with the quiet conviction that “it’ll all be alright”.

Do anti-fur protesters really have an effect?

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Protesters from animal rights organisations are far from a rare occurrence at London Fashion Week, and this year’s event was no different. Protesters came out in force to take a stand against the fashion industry’s use of a variety of animal products, and their main target: fur. It would be no stretch to say that much of the public no longer supports the killing of animals for use of their fur to produce aesthetically pleasing products, and it is unsurprising that fur has been a target from protesters for many years.

But why are some designers so reluctant to listen to protesters’ voices? Granted, over 90% of the designers showing at London Fashion Week did not use fur in this collection, but some brands (such as Mary Katrantzou)refuse to renounce the use of fur altogether. This did not go unnoticed by protesters, and many individuals came out to stand up for the rights of animals.

Activists from PETA often make an appearance at Fashion Week. PETA, a well-known animal rights organisation, founded in the 1980s in the U.S., has been criticised by some for its tactics, but praised by others for their vehement defence of animals’ rights. They proudly claim on their website how this year a group of topless protesters attended London Fashion Week with the words Wear Your Own Skin” written on their bodies. A protester from another animal rights organisation, SURGE, managed to get onto Mary Katrantzou’s catwalk; her chants of “Shame on you!” were caught on camera by many members of the audience. Though Katrantzou stated that only faux fur was used in this particular show, her past use of fox and mink fur makes her a natural target.

With brands such as Armani, Gucci and Vivienne Westwood completely renouncing the use of fur across their brands, it would seem that the protesters are having an effect. Indeed, the change in opinion amongst the general public would support this. The controversy surrounding Canada Goose jackets in the past few years highlights the outrage amongst the public, as unverified pictures of the alleged violent production of such jackets went viral. Pictures of coyotes in metal traps, coyotes being shot in the head: Canada Goose has a policy on its website highlighting that it uses ethically sourced fur, but it is now held by many people that there is no such thing as ‘ethically sourced fur’.

All fur used in fashion is, due to the deaths it causes, inherently immoral. Killing an animal simply for the use of its fur, when faux fur options are just as accessible and affordable, seems undeniably unethical: something that many brands have seemingly now accepted.

Yet, the protesters feel that their work to combat the use of fur in the fashion industry is not yet over, as some brands, such as Burberry and Mary Katrantzouare reluctant to completely renounce fur. This is hardly surprising when celebrities like the Kardashians are intent on wearing it.

Kim Kardashian and her sisters have consistently met criticism for their fur-wearing, even from fans. Indeed, in 2012, Kim Kardashian had flour thrown on her by someone claiming to support PETA. Simply reading the comments on the Instagram posts picturing the sisters wearing fur is sufficient to see the condemnation from the public. A case in point would be Khloe Kardashian’s post last April, which includes Kourtney, Kim, and herself, all wearing fur coats.

Likewise, more recently, on a post from January, Kim was criticised both for cultural appropriation due to her braids, as well as the fact that she was wearing what appears to be a real fur coat. The immense influence of the Kardashians amongst the public is not something that can be easily dismissed, and it is not surprising that when individuals like them consistently choose to wear fur, major brands such as Burberry will not renounce it completely. The Kardashians have undoubtedly become a brand, and shouldn’t they be help up to the same expected standards of ethical practice that other brands are? Perhaps certain supporters and members of the fashion industry do not feel that they have any reason to be ethical for the sake of its consumers as it could be argued that it is up to consumers to choose to buy ethically, and not up to the designers or celebrities to support ethical methods of clothes production.

It is clear that the work of the protesters is not over, but will they really affect the opinions of the Kardashians, or indeed the major brands? It is likely that they have had some influence on the matter, or else why would so many brands have already renounced it? Even if the protesters simply have changed public opinion, which has in turn changed the opinion of major brands, their influence was key. The videos and photos distributed by organisations such as PETA are powerful, but they do not seem to be touching the emotions of certain celebrities.Here, PETA’s reputation as extreme or fanatic may play a role, as protesters are sometimes seen, even amongst the public, as some form of fanatics, not representing the popular view.

So the work of the protesters can only be commended, when it is peaceful, and honest, but it does not seem to be enough for some of the high fashion brands. It is more than evident that the fact that major figures such as the Kardashians refusing to face up to their responsibility and influence as a vehicle for change is undoubtedly a principal barrier to creating a fashion industry that is completely fur free.

‘Sacred Elements and Secular Sentiments’ – Daniel Caesar: Freudian

We knew Daniel Caesar grew up on gospel music. We knew Daniel Caesar sings with a Canadian sensibility. We knew that Daniel Caesar channels his religious values and experiences into the lyrical themes of his songs.

What we didn’t know, however, is just what Daniel Caesar’s debut album would sound like.

Having released two EPs, Praise Break and Pilgrim’s Paradise in 2014 and 2015 respectively, Caesar has amassed a steadily growing body of devotees who are drawn to his ecclesiastical sentimentality and emphasis on tender intimacy. So when Freudian was released late last year, Caesar certainly delivered to the fans precisely what they wanted.

Caesar called the album Freudian after learning of Sigmund Freud’s Oedipus complex, finding inspiration in the theory’s proposition that a child has an unconscious desire for the opposite-sex parent, in order to make sense of his own previous relationships. However, Caesar also draws from his pious experiences growing up with parents and a community unwavering in their fidelity to their faith. For Caesar, a child growing up in a tight-knit community of Seventh Day Adventists, a mainstream or secularist music culture was simply not a part of his upbringing.

Yet the sounds of R&B and neo-soul were too alluring for a youngster who was exhausting the gospel music on which he was raised. The polarity between those devotional and secular styles was mirrored in Caesar’s life by his growing disillusionment with his Christian upbringing. So with Freudian, Caesar sought to reconcile the dichotomies that fraught his life.

Freudian is a ten-track anthology centred upon sacred elements and secular sentiments, which are packaged in velvety, sensitive songs. Lyrics, mood, vocal capability, cohesiveness, presence, and guest features all fit nicely within the 45-minute runtime. While Caesar draws from elements of R&B and neo-soul, Freudian is grounded in black gospel in both music and subject matter. So whilst Caesar may have left the church behind him, it pervades Freudian. Gospel roots in the form of choral harmonies can be heard on ‘Neu Roses (Transgressor’s Song)’ and ‘We Find Love’, whilst gospel instrumentation is strewn across the tracks. The Hammond organ is generous applied as gloss paint over the majority of Freudian, which provides a devotional sheen to a familiar R&B sound.

The album’s sonic spectrum plants it firmly in the services, concerts and conventions that Caesar would have undoubtedly grown up attending. Yet that R&B feel is omnipresent throughout the album. The muffled synths and snare-accenting guitars hark back to both neo-soul jams and 70s soul records.

Whether by creative volition or out of circumstance, Caesar has mostly operated independently on his two previous EPs. With Freudian, Caesar enlisted the artistic forces of Kali Uchis, H.E.R., Syd and Charlotte Day Wilson, with many of the collaborations producing the finest material on the album. ‘Best Part’ and ‘Get You’ (featuring H.E.R. and Kali Uchis respectively) both stand apart from the other joint ventures for their plush, tight arrangements and vocal performances. ‘Best Part’, the opening song on the album, is a saccharine ditty that flows through themes of vulnerability and openness, and evokes images of gentle, morning moments between lovers who are in blind infatuation. ‘Get You’ is equally sentimental, with the chorus hook (“Who could’ve thought I’d get you”) explicitly regaling true adoration and unworthiness, and portraying a romance that is perpetually anchored in the honeymoon phase.

Indeed, Freudian is full of lyrics that, on paper, appear mawkish (“You’re the coffee that I need in the morning / You’re my sunshine in the rain when it’s pouring”), but this Canadian imbues them with such warm benevolence and sincerity that they reverberate with truth. What is apparent after listening through the entirety of Freudian is that the devotion in Christian faith that Caesar chastises and rejects is, perversely, the album’s basis, with the artist using devoutness as a symbol for his unconditional, unrequited love.

Ultimately, Caesar’s first full-length creative output is an audible representation of his spiritual and emotional odyssey from boy to man. Freudian plays like a beautifully-tracked voyage into the depths of both romantic and self-love, and the adoration of the sacred that finds its way into both. Whether Daniel Caesar still believes in a higher power or not, Freudian binds the disparate sacred elements and secular sentiments convincingly.