Saturday 14th March 2026
Blog Page 8

Remembrance, resilience, and reflection: Lubomyr Melnyk, the ‘continuous music’ pioneer

Ruaridh McEwen
-
0
Remembrance, resilience, and reflection: Lubomyr Melnyk, the ‘continuous music’ pioneer

On the 23rd and 24th February, the Ukrainian composer and pianist, Lubomyr Melnyk, returns to Oxford for a performance at New College’s New Space, hosted by Balliol College Music Society. When Melnyk last performed in Oxford, in November 2025, audiences were left questioning what precisely they had just heard. A piano recital, certainly, but one that seemed to exceed the physical and sonic limits of the instrument itself. For Nathan Adlam, a Balliol mathematician and pianist who co-runs the society alongside Towa Matsuda, the concert marks the continuation of something far more personal than a visiting recital.

Melnyk’s performance carries a deep significance. It marks the four-year anniversary of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine – a date etched into the memories of countless people. For Melnyk, the stage becomes more than a place of artistry; it becomes a space of remembrance, resilience, and reflection. The weight of the invasion’s anniversary makes the performance important, not only for Melnyk, but also for the millions of Ukrainians he is representing. The event is also widely supported by the Oxford University Ukrainian society, who were fundamental in advertising the last concert series in Michaelmas term.

Those who attended Melnyk’s Oxford recital last year will have struggled to describe the performance, feeling less like a conventional piano concert and more like a complete immersion. The rapid unbroken streams of sound makes it hard to locate a central melody, with the music instead surrounding the listener. In an intimate venue such as the New Space, that effect is likely to be intensified with the piano’s resonance filling the room and collapsing the distance between performer and listener. Raphael Darley, a maths student studying at Balliol who attended last November’s performance, described hearing “four voice lines, each having five textures.”

Adlam told Cherwell: “I found him by accident during the lockdown and was instantly hooked.” What began as private fascination developed into formal study; Melnyk has described Adlam as “the sole student to have taken him truly seriously”. Adlam single-handedly organised Melnyk’s Oxford debut last November, drawing on community support across the University to hear Melnyk’s signature ‘continuous music’.

Melnyk is often described as an ‘experimental’ composer, but the term misleads as much as it clarifies. His ‘continuous music’ style is built on rapid, sustained streams of notes that create the impression of layered textures unfolding simultaneously. Yet, as Nathan is keen to stress, it is deeply rooted in Western classical harmony. “He absolutely adores Bach and Beethoven,” Adlam explains. Rather than rupture with tradition, Melnyk’s work extends it, as a kind of operatic classicism. 

Much of the astonishment centres on the physical technique itself. Melnyk is recorded to be the fastest pianist in the world, with the ability to play an astonishing 19 notes per second. His style demands extraordinary stamina and speed, sustaining patterns at velocities that seem mechanically impossible. Even Adlam, who performs the repertoire as an amateur, is struck with disbelief. After Menlyk’s last recital at Magdalen College, he recalls a midwife remaining half an hour afterwards, “so terribly worried” for his hands; she could not believe he did not suffer from repetitive strain injury.

There is also a larger story unfolding behind the scenes. A documentary, led by filmmaker Rupert Clague, explores Melnyk’s music and life. The project, The Peace Piano, has reportedly secured Werner Herzog as executive producer. The performances this February also sit alongside a study from a research team from the University of Cambridge and Goldsmiths, University of London, which focuses on flow state. Attendees of the event are encouraged to complete the questionnaire which will investigate how live music leads to altered states of consciousness, framing Melnyk’s performance as more than just music, but as a psychological experience.

Melnyk’s return to Oxford represents more than just a repeat performance. His performance is significant to the memory of Ukraine on the anniversary of the Russian invasion, and it signals the growth of a small but intensely committed community around his work – one rooted, unexpectedly, in a Balliol maths student’s lockdown discovery.

‘Crawling with personality’: ‘Little Shop of Horrors’ in conversation

Rebecca Harper
-
0
‘Crawling with personality’: ‘Little Shop of Horrors’ in conversation

Last week, I infiltrated a rehearsal for Cross Keys and 2046 Productions’ upcoming Little Shop Of Horrors. On arrival, I was informed that rehearsal had started at 9am that morning. It was now 11am, and there was no sign of flagging. There was a buzz to the atmosphere: perhaps the delirium of an early morning rehearsal (reader, I have been there). I got the overwhelming sense that this was the energy of a show where the cast and crew are having a great time, and that I should be very privileged to witness it.

Rehearsing for any student drama production, let alone a musical, can be an arduous process. You start early, with hardly any time throughout the day to do your already overdue essay, and any attempt to find new vocal warmups ending with a return to basics in ‘Mrs Tiggy-Wiggy’. But those involved in Little Shop certainly know how to keep things fun. Walking into their rehearsal, I was stopped in my tracks (quite literally, to avoid infiltrating a shot) by the show’s media manager Aimee Dixson, laughing her way through filming Instagram content with cast members Will Jacobs, Eliza Hogermeer, and Cameron Maiklem. Dixson has endless folders of inspiration Reels saved – those who follow the show’s Instagram will recognise her signature sharpness in the tongue-in-cheek content that has been posted to promote the show. The marketing is just the right side of meme-y. 

The show’s director, Madi Bouchta, had a day of rehearsals for Little Shop, next term’s Playhouse musical Our House, and a 5am bedtime after partaking in Oxbridge On Stage (she never stops!) – I resolved that it may be more ethical to catch up with her over text. What evolved was a Q&A as sharp as pruning shears – alongside assistant director Thushita Maheshkumar Sugunaraj, producer Cayden Ong, and music director Louis Benneyworth. 

Like any production worth watching, Little Shop’s team is crawling with personality. Ong  expresses his appreciation for all 58 ‘seedlings’ he appears to have amassed. The team share many an in-joke – special mention to the words ‘devoicing’ and ‘melodramatic chords’, as well as Wally McCabe’s (Audrey II) catchphrase of “and that’s beautiful”. I suppose I’ll have to see the show to figure out what they’re referring to. Louis, on a more serious note, mentions the atmosphere they’ve created in the room: “What has evolved is a sense of care, respect, and love in every rehearsal.”

This is a version of Little Shop unlike anything which has previously graced Oxford’s creaky stages. Whilst the crew (and myself) express their love for the ‘See-Maw’-ing of Ellen Page’s original Audrey, she will not be making an appearance here. Goodbye to the awful blonde wig; hello to a more grounded portrayal. Bouchta sums this up perfectly: “It’s Little Shop but not entirely as you know it.” The director highlighted that she “wanted to bring out the humanity of the show”. Maheshkumar Sugunaraj adds that they have been “exploring so many nuances in relationships,” with a particular focus on the difference between Audrey’s interactions with Orin and Seymour. 

There is also a clear love of the show and its history among the team. Bouchta’s love started when she watched the NPR Tiny Desk concert of the recent Off-Broadway revival. She adds that she “became obsessed with Christian Borle”, a rite of passage, I believe. The music was an incredibly strong draw too; love for the musical’s songs were mentioned in every single conversation I had with the team. There are no duds in Little Shop, and musical director Louis Benneyworth is certainly doing the score justice. He teases some reshuffling and additions to the original orchestration, and says that Oxford “will never hear a puppet sound this spectacular again.” 

On that note – one of my questions for Cross Keys was merely “Puppet?” I was met with a fitting answer: “Puppet!” Fear not, for despite some reworking, much of the campery in the original stage version has been retained. In a script that necessitates a nitrous-oxide-emitting space helmet and a giant man-eating plant puppet, how could it not? Bouchta keeps many of the puppetry details under wraps, but credits designer Kat Surgay with a mammoth feat: making four different puppets. She adds: “Large scale puppetry is something that isn’t seen a lot in Oxford student shows, so we’re very excited.” 

That word comes up again and again in my conversations with the cast and crew. Excited. Excited. Excited. Little Shop have assembled a team of artists who clearly love what they do – and they reckon you’ll love it too. Or at least… it will grow on you.

Little Shop Of Horrors runs from 18th-21st February at the O’Reilly Theatre, Keble College. 

Oxford cycle courier Pedal & Post closes after fourteen years of operation

Anisha Mohammed
-
0
Oxford cycle courier Pedal & Post closes after fourteen years of operation

Pedal & Post, a cycle courier company based in Oxford, has ceased trading after more than a decade of operating in the city, following the loss of a major client.

The eco-courier entered liquidation earlier this year. Christopher Benton, the CEO and founder of Pedal & Post, told Cherwell: “Despite exploring every possible avenue to continue trading, the loss ultimately made the business unsustainable.” He added that following a review of forecasts and options, the company made the “difficult decision to cease trading”.

The company’s closure has resulted in the loss of around 60 jobs in Oxford and London.

Pedal & Post, was founded in Oxford in 2013 and expanded to London last July, but the loss of this major client, which Cherwell understands to be e-scooter rental company Voi, resulted in the closure of its Oxford and London sites. Its involvement with Voi was to service e-bikes and e-scooters. By transporting large volumes of freight on cargo bikes or bikes with trailers, Pedal & Post deliveries reduced the volume of delivery vans entering the city centre.

Over its 14 years of operation in Oxford, Pedal & Post delivered millions of items across the city, serving residents, local businesses, and national logistics firms. Its work ranged from local coffee and vegetable box deliveries to last mile deliveries for major couriers like DPD, Yodel, and Evri. The company also conducted critical medical deliveries such as cancer medications for hospitals and NHS trusts. 

Robin Tucker, Co-Chair of the Coalition for Healthy Streets and Active Travel (CoHSAT) told Cherwell: “We’re very sad to hear that Pedal & Post have gone into administration after losing a major client. Their bright blue cargo bikes and friendly riders have been a cheering sight on Oxford streets for more than a decade, reducing traffic congestion and pollution, and transporting vital medical supplies through traffic jams.”

Tucker highlighted the scale of the company’s work, noting that Pedal & Post “transported a considerable volume of freight and packages, most notably consolidating deliveries to many Oxford colleges from several package companies on a single large cargo bike, or bike with trailer, rather than being several vans”. He added that their closure “may lead to an increase in van traffic and with it congestion, pollution, and road danger in the centre of Oxford”.

Tucker also pointed to the wider policy context, explaining that Oxford’s Temporary Congestion Charge and upcoming traffic filters permit vans to enter the city for free, while the city’s existing Zero Emission Zone incentivises the use of electric vehicles.

In recent years, Oxford has seen the growth of publicly supported e-cargo-bike schemes, alongside private operators offering a range of delivery models. Some local courier companies, such as Velocity Cycle Couriers, operate mixed fleets combining e-cargo bikes with electric vans, allowing them to handle larger or longer-distance deliveries alongside bike-based work. 

Tucker described Pedal & Post as an ethical business, where all riders were paid the Oxford Living Wage and trained to high standards. Benton told Cherwell the company’s current focus is on supporting its team through the transition, including “helping people find new roles, transferring contracts where possible, and keeping riders in work” within the cargo-bike sector.

Benton went on to say to Cherwell  “While it’s incredibly hard to see the business come to an end, we’re proud of the impact it had on the city, the people it employed, and the conversations it helped start around sustainable urban logistics,” adding that “Pedal & Post showed that a different kind of delivery model is possible – one that puts people, communities, and the environment first. While this chapter is closing, the idea that cities can be cleaner, fairer, and more human through cargo-bike logistics is very much alive”.

‘Curly quotation marks’ and ‘Americanisms’: How does Oxford detect AI use?

Amelia Gibbins
-
0
‘Curly quotation marks’ and ‘Americanisms’: How does Oxford detect AI use?

It was announced in September last year that Oxford would be the first university in the country to offer ChatGPT Edu to all students. Earlier that year, a survey by the Higher Education Policy Institute found that 92% of students had used AI in some form at university, with 88% reporting to have used generative AI in assessments.

These figures have surged since 2024, when only 53% of students admitted to having used generative AI in assessments. The survey only shows the picture from students themselves across the country. How is Oxford, an institution renowned for intellectual rigour and world class academia, keeping up with the AI revolution? 

The increase in misconduct cases

Between July 2023 and January 2026, there were a total of 33 cases of suspected AI misconduct handled by the University. 30 of these cases relate to coursework, while the other 3 were for examinations.

As would be expected, the number of suspected AI misconduct cases has increased drastically in the past year. There were only three cases reported in 2024, whereas the following year saw 28 cases, marking an increase of 833%.

The highest number of cases received in one month is four, which has happened four times. Between August 2023 and July 2024, there was not a single case of suspected AI use reported to the Proctors’ Office. Since the release of ChatGPT Edu, there have been eleven cases.

Interestingly, AI in itself is still not classed as a separate category of academic misconduct when handled by the University. Instead, these cases are classified as ‘plagiarism’, according to a freedom of information (FOI) request by Cherwell.

By contrast, another FOI request sent to the University of Bristol shows far higher numbers of AI cases at other universities. In the 2023/24 academic year, Bristol issued 526 penalties for suspected AI misconduct, dwarfing Oxford’s figures by some margin.

Tell tale signs

Cherwell’s freedom of information request also shines a light on the indicators used in determining whether academic work is the product of AI. 

Indicators like fake quotes, factual inaccuracies and prompts left in text are considered the most obvious indicators of suspected AI misconduct. Other indicators, however, are more up for debate. For example, students would “not normally have been taught” to use em-dashes in their writing.

Another indicator of potential misconduct is the use of ‘americanisms’. The guidance does note that international students are more likely to have learned American English, though mixing British and American English in the same text is considered a sign that AI may have been used. Other indicators include curly quotation marks, unusual levels of repetition, poorly argued prose, highly polished text, and bland statements.

The internal guidance is prefaced by a disclaimer that the indicators “may not provide definite proof that the student used AI without permission”, and urges the Proctors to consider each case holistically.

The accused

Though the data relates only to cases of AI misconduct in officially assessed work – rather than in tutorials or collections – Cherwell spoke to students who have faced accusations of AI usage by their college.

One modern languages student, who graduated last year, was accused of using AI in collections in his final year. He explained that he was called into a meeting and that his tutor wanted to escalate the complaint further. He told Cherwell: “I was very scared that, if she thought I had used AI when I hadn’t, how is it going to go in my finals?”

He told Cherwell that their way of checking was putting the essay question into ChatGPT, and it came out with a similar answer. He explained that this approach “is not a valid way of checking if someone used AI at all.”

When asked whether the ordeal changed the way he approached academic work, he said: “It didn’t change the way I approached it because I am really stubborn and I love an em dash.”

Another student that Cherwell spoke to, however, has been more inclined to approach academic work differently following accusations from tutors of AI usage. She explains how the discrepancy between different tutors’ attitudes towards AI may therefore leave students without a clear answer as to when, if at all, AI use is acceptable in academic work.

She told Cherwell that she “lost all confidence” when she stayed behind after a tutorial to ask questions about a topic which she was curious about, but her tutor instead questioned if she had used AI to collect notes and plan the essay.

However, in tutorials with younger tutors, she explained that they tend to be more open to using AI tools to break down a question and understand difficult concepts. She told Cherwell: “I often wonder whether, if I had more time to break down and review the information for my essays, I would have a more sufficient understanding of the topic and be able to write a coherent essay without needing to cut corners by using AI.”

What the experts say

Thomas Lancaster, Principal Teaching Fellow in Computing at Imperial College London, told Cherwell that, although guidance regarding the use of AI in universities exists, the biggest challenge is that it isn’t always consistent or up to date. The key issue, he explains, is that “so much of it assumes that every academic discipline operates in the same way”. 

One way in which some universities have attempted to cope is by increasing the number of closed book, handwritten exams.  Oxford made this change for its modern languages in May 2025 due to fears over AI, though the move sparked debate from students at the time who would have to adapt to a form of assessment that they had not anticipated. 

However, when asked whether a blanket shift to in-person, handwritten examinations would be a viable solution to the AI misconduct conundrum, Lancaster told Cherwell: “I think that would be completely inappropriate. Most universities in the UK just aren’t set up for an exam based curriculum, and frankly, handwriting just isn’t a skill that people have. This also limits what people can accomplish, which is very different for preparing students for an AI-first world.

“The Oxford deal with OpenAI really showed the University being at the forefront of AI adoption, although the educational sector has moved on since then… There’s nothing wrong with an assessment testing the ability of students to work with modern technology, but the assessment has to be phrased in those terms. Similarly, there’s nothing wrong with AI free assessments. It’s all about creating a balance.”

Ben du Boulay, Emeritus Professor of AI at the University of Sussex and Editor of the Handbook of Artificial Intelligence in Education, also has ideas for how assessments can adapt to the challenge of AI. He told Cherwell that, in some cases, “it may be advantageous to allow students to use a large language model (LLM) but require them to submit both the LLM’s answer as well as their improved version of that answer, highlighting and explaining the changes that have been made”.

Boulay also advocates for more student training, telling Cherwell that it should make clear what it means to be a student, how an assignment develops understanding and skill, and that being a student means improving metacognitive understanding and regulation.

A spokesperson for Oxford University told Cherwell: “’The University is committed to encouraging the ethical, safe, and responsible use of AI and it has published clear guidance on this for students who use AI tools to support their studies. Unauthorised use of AI for exams or submitted work is not permitted and students should always follow any specific guidance from their tutors, supervisors, department or faculty. 

“Oxford’s teaching model emphasises the importance of face-to-face learning and requires students to clearly demonstrate subject knowledge, critical thinking and evidence-based arguments. Together with clear guidance on responsible use of AI for study, and policy on AI use in summative assessment, this helps to safeguard against inappropriate or unauthorised use of AI. Where concerns about unauthorised use are raised, cases are reviewed via established academic misconduct processes. All policy and guidance is under constant review, in response to rapid changes in the AI landscape.”

Portrait of Nobel laureate Malala Yousafzai revealed at Lady Margaret Hall

Siyeon Lee
-
0
Portrait of Nobel laureate Malala Yousafzai revealed at Lady Margaret Hall

A portrait of Nobel Peace Prize laureate and Oxford alumna Malala Yousafzai was revealed last week at Lady Margaret Hall. Yousafzai, a former college member, graduated from Oxford with a degree in Philosophy, Politics, and Economics (PPE) in 2020.

The artwork was commissioned by Lady Margaret Hall in collaboration with the Oxford Pakistan Programme, on whose advisory body Yousafzai sits.

The portrait was revealed at Lady Margaret Hall’s annual Founders and Benefactors Dinner early this month. In the Lady Margaret Hall news update, Yousafzai said: “I am incredibly grateful to Lady Margaret Hall for commissioning this portrait and for the trust it represents. I accept this honour with the hope that it helps open doors for many others.”

Yousafzai also hoped that the portrait would serve as an encouragement for other women: “More than anything, I hope it serves as a reminder that a girl from Swat Valley belongs here – and that the next girl from a village in Pakistan, Afghanistan, or anywhere else, belongs here too.”

In a news update on the Lady Margaret Hall website, the painter, Isabella Watling, expressing gratitude for the opportunity: “It was a huge honour to paint Malala’s portrait.In the picture, I wanted to try and capture some of her strength and grace. I found it was unusually challenging to finish, because of the pressure of painting such a well-known face.”

Yousafzai, a Pakistani activist who has championed the right to girls’ education, remains the youngest Nobel Peace Prize laureate in history. She grew up in Swat Valley, Pakistan, and survived a 2012 assassination attempt by the Taliban after criticising the militant organisation’s restrictions on women’s educational opportunities.


Alongside her father, Ziauddin Yousafzai, Malala Yousafzai has headed the non-profit organisation Malala Fund since 2013. The organisation “invests in civil society organizations who are challenging the systems, policies and practices that prevent girls from going to school in their communities”.

Techno, tragedy, and medieval monologuing: ‘Brew Hill’ in conversation

Charlie Bailey
-
0
Techno, tragedy, and medieval monologuing: ‘Brew Hill’ in conversation

Oxford’s student drama scene has plenty of original writing based on fractured relationships, but none quite this random. Kilian King’s Brew Hill watches the deterioration of the romance between Nat (Trixie Smith) and Gordon (Jem Hunter), two broke former art students. Their romance is unusual in more ways than one: Gordon has an anxious condition which he comforts exclusively by checking flights to Berlin. The onstage action is interrupted by the presence of Flemish Renaissance painter Pieter Bruegel (Hugh Linklater), who appears in Nat’s ‘visions’. As the play progresses, the lines between the couple’s story and Bruegel’s become blurred. Cherwell went behind the scenes to find out more about what audiences can expect. 

I watched the latter half of a full run of the script, sat behind a busy stage management team (Matida Lambert and Lucy Davis) taking notes on scene changes. Though outside of the performance space, the actors were highly energised. At points they leapt out of their seats to mimic the onstage blocking. The scenes I watched were highly comic, with Hannah Wiseman (Kirsty) especially making the mini audience (myself and the crew) laugh. Audiences will be surprised by how easy the cast makes it to laugh at the word ‘mmm’ alone. 

After this light-hearted run had finished, the rehearsal turned to a more serious scene, exploring Nat and Gordon’s relationship. The jokes from before were laid aside and the cast became highly focused. The differences between Smith’s joyful, chaotic portrayal of Nat and Hunter’s quietly insufferable Gordon became evident. King’s feedback was both emotion-based and vibes-based, asking for a “little bit more deflation” in their tone, and later explaining one moment as “this is them when they’ve reached flow state.”

The cast have been active participants in creating the final product. Co-producer Marlene Favata explained that the script was only finalised about two weeks ago. Brew Hill has been with King for much longer. He told Cherwell that the historical aspect of the plot first wedged itself in his head a year ago, as whilst visiting family in Berlin he resolved to turn his love of Bruegel’s artistry into a play. The idea has now developed into an unusual mixture of techno and tragedy, with a side of medieval monologuing. Delving deeper into the metaphor behind the inclusion of Bruegel, King explained that, while the artist’s paintings look bucolic at first glance, “there’s a lot of darker, nastier stuff” revealed when one looks closer. This parallels the imperfections in the play’s central relationship. 

Viewers may wonder what breweries have to do with a Flemish painter. The answer is nothing, but King thought Bruegel and ‘Brew Hill’ sounded close enough to work a brewery plotline into the script. Once he realised they actually sound pretty different, he was undeterred: “I thought, that can still work if the character is as dumb as me.”

Such self-deprecation doesn’t hold given his cast’s evident excitement towards his concept. There were points where cast members directed questions at King themselves, equally as curious to understand King’s starting intentions. On their reasons for getting involved, Smith cited her love of art, and Hunter told Cherwell he was “very interested in dreams”. These themes are reflected in the set, which aims to capture the play’s modern, naturalistic and historic, abstract elements. The back half of the stage holds the couple’s flat, and the thrust arrangement allows the front part of the stage to incorporate a variety of settings.

In answer to the question of why King cast each actor, he mentioned the chemistry between Smith and Hunter as well as Linklater’s strong monologue skills. The workshopping process seemed to have given the cast a charming closeness. Wiseman remembered lengthy discussions, one about Gordon’s character for “four hours” which brought up “every relationship trauma”. Much emphasis was placed on how much Hunter hates Gordon, while remaining convinced that he is a ‘self-insert’ from King. King was cautious to comment on whether Gordon bears his likeness.

The question of what the audience should leave thinking was difficult. The play can be interpreted in so many different ways. King joked that he’d like the audience to start their own breweries. Linklater wanted them to high-five (as one does after a good play). More seriously, King explained that the audience can reflect on the unease created when “one person wants to stay and one person wants to go”. For Favata, this reminds her of school friends left behind when she moved to Oxford. Wiseman also related it to friendship. Hunter’s idea was most poignant: his takeaway from playing Gordon is that “just because you have good intentions doesn’t mean you can’t hurt someone.”. 

I’d already been partially convinced by Assistant Director Roselynn Gumbo’s promotional coasters (ingenious, given the play’s focus on beer). Spending time with Pecadillo Productions made it even clearer that their work is something unique. The play is a nod to Renaissance artistry that stays on the right side of pretentious. In one word? After some scrambling, different cast members suggested ‘community’, ‘escape’ and ‘techno!’. Without a doubt, something good is brewing. 

Brew Hill runs at the Burton Taylor Studio, 17th-21st February. 

It’s 2016’s world, and we’re just living in it (or are we?)

Jiayue Shi
-
0
It’s 2016’s world, and we’re just living in it (or are we?)

Barely a month has passed since we made our flustered entry into 2026. But it seems like the verdict is already in: your honour, we’ve had enough. Bring back 2016. Tastes were bad, but times were better. You’ll find this nostalgia in the vines and 2016 outfit inspo reels on your Instagram feed. It’s in the colourful return of Zara Larsson’s Lush Life. Many influencers I follow, from pop culture satirists to the guy who sings ballads about the Louvre heist, are posting pictures of themselves from ten years ago. My generation on Anglophone social media have decided to fall back in love with fidget spinners, Snapchat filters, and sappy Tumblr quotes.

2016 is childhood. It’s an aesthetic. It’s kitsch. It’s embarrassing, therefore sincere. It’s collective. It’s everyone’s “last normal year”, because, so it goes, the first Trump presidency ruptured the timeline and the American timeline is universal. And above all, best of all, 2016 is gone forever. The past is the absolute elsewhere. If it were not so, we couldn’t have shaped it in the exact likeness of our longings. If we could actually have 2016 back, we would no longer make it our cathartic refuge.

Was 2016 really so great? You’d have to be sufficiently affluent and unperturbed to enjoy that year as a paradise lost. The 2016 divide would be nonsensical to those for whom the world has always been on fire. As for myself, I was in my early teens in 2016. My feelings towards it are fond but illusionless, and the year doesn’t stand out among the others. I was semi-familiar with the pop culture references that the trend reminisces today, but not raised in it. China’s 2015 military parade lodged itself more intimately in my political memory than Brexit and Trump did in 2016. What it’s making me see is that the trend exists only in a depersonalised and depoliticised memory. There you have an aesthetic, a utopian field of signs.

But this is nothing new. We’ve always been nostalgic, and its utopias have always been consumable. No matter how jaded we are with Disney remakes, they just keep coming, in the hyper-real image of our childhood. Studio Ghibli aesthetics are nostalgic: already, generative AI has pushed out numerous stylistic replicas. 90s Britpop is nostalgic, and it still sells – ask anyone who got an overpriced Oasis ticket in 2024. Cottagecore is nostalgic: a quick Pinterest search shows us the quaint white curtains and garden paths of a pre-internet pastoral, with its tactful amnesia of the real labours of country life. Post-socialism is nostalgic: I’ve seen the inert left-wing melancholia that is best pictured in vintage Sputnik pins and revolutionary internationalist posters. It goes with the embarrassed awareness that we’re wistful not for the past our grandparents lived, but for its unrealised ideals, now safely buried in a dead future. In nostalgia, there is a present futility that we dance around by being self-conscious, ironic, and entertained.

Last term my college hosted a 1920s-themed black tie dinner. The cheerful email reminded us that we, too, are in the hedonistic 20s, living through economic recession and authoritarian ascent. Happily for us, there would be live jazz in the bar afterwards. It was a great night, I committed to the bit. There I was, dancing Lindy Hop with my friend. I wore qipao in homage to the fashionable Shanghai ladies of exactly a century ago. We took pictures on a thrifted 2000s Fujifilm camera.

Yet inevitably, this was accompanied by the wry knowledge that the 1920s, too, were nostalgic. Europe’s traditional Right lamented the passing of religion and order. The Nazis were nostalgic for a mythical Germany of the pure-blooded Volk. Revivalist right-wing nostalgia today is sellable and iconographic, from MAGA hats to algorithms that push St. George’s flags and trad wife content to the right audiences. We’re buffeted on all sides by nostalgia of every kind. Absent-mindedly, industriously, we produce a great desire for pasts, and create desirable pasts to match. Then we buy them up.

The thing we really don’t know what to do about is the future. Late-night conversations with friends my age reveal the uneasy suspicion that we’re incapable of creating a future – individual or collective. We speak anxiously about graduating Oxford and the job market, about wasted potential, about the daily injustice that descends on others in our phone screens and not ourselves. It’s easy relief, especially now, to miss the 2010s. Through the cringy filters, it emerges as an innocent time where many futures felt possible.

Now that we’ve arrived, we’re convinced that we’re living – and responsible for – the worst possible one. Is the 2016 nostalgia trend not just pop culture brought back from the dustbins, but endlessly recycled facsimiles of lost hope? Is the power to multiply and consume our one truly democratic cultural power?

There’s something reassuring about the nostalgia that tells us our best years are behind us. Agency lost in the present regains dignity in an uncomplicated collective past. If now is the time of monsters, they’re happy we’re distracted. But it’s also the now that demands action and imagination from us. I’d like to think that the present, narrowing between desirable pasts and inconceivable futures, is still ground enough to stand on. Nostalgia gives us much-needed relief and fun, as long as it’s not paralysing. If the future struggles to be born, we need to start preparing for a livable one.

John Radcliffe Hospital hosts new institute for trauma, emergency, and critical care

Angelina Wu
-
0
John Radcliffe Hospital hosts new institute for trauma, emergency, and critical care

A new Kadoorie Institute of Trauma, Emergency and Critical Care has been established within the University of Oxford. Based at the John Radcliffe Hospital, the new institution formalises a long-term collaboration between the Oxford Trauma and Emergency Care at the Nuffield Department of Orthopaedics, Rheumatology and Musculoskeletal Sciences (NDORMS) and the Critical Care Research Team at the Nuffield Department of Clinical Neurosciences (NDCN).

The Kadoorie Institute’s close collaboration with its host, the John Radcliffe Hospital, is designed to enable research into clinical effectiveness. Matthew Costa, Professor of Orthopaedic Trauma Surgery at NDORMS and one of the Institute’s directors, told Cherwell that the department aims to streamline research into Emergency Departments, trauma operating theatres, and Intensive Care Units. The institute will analyse “these three acute care specialities together so that our research spans the whole patient pathway”.

Both research and education form the focus of the Kadoorie Institute. Professor Costa told Cherwell: “Our educational work aims to provide the ‘outputs’ from this research in a way that is easily accessible to healthcare professionals and patients, whether it be online materials or face-to-face teaching.”

The Kadoorie Charitable Foundation, the Institute’s namesake, has played a pivotal role in its financial support. Professor Costa told Cherwell: “The Kadoorie Charitable Foundation has been supporting acute case research and education in Oxford for 20 years… Without their support, the Institute would not have been possible. We hope to continue this incredible relationship for many years to come.” The Institute’s launch comes at a time of increasing strain for the NHS, particularly in the field of emergency medicine. Costa told Cherwell: “Acute care in the NHS is seldom out of the press. Research to improve the outcomes for patients who need urgent treatments is therefore a key priority for the NHS. With ever increasing pressure on NHS resources, there is also a need to make sure that all new treatments are cost-effective as well as better for patients’ recovery.”

Off the bench, on the mend

Arun Lewis
-
0
Off the bench, on the mend

Oxford’s eight week termly orbit cares little for the inconvenience of an injury or illness. Regardless of its severity, or length, each day missed is a fair proportion of a term ill-used. Having recently marked halfway hall, I was served a terrifying reminder that the three terms of a year, even the three years of a standard undergraduate degree, can easily bolt away if allowed.

When I started writing this piece, I intended to write about how, during my first year, my admittedly shoddy novice rowing efforts were derailed. An asthma diagnosis and the first of several bouts of severe chest infections put paid to any chance of a miraculous improvement.

As providence would have it, another of these delightful infections returned the week I started writing this. Having battled through the innumerable pleasures of another bout of ill-health, whether that be having to pull out of training and fixtures or feel drained after five minutes of walking, I was reduced to a wordless, thoughtless zombie. Staring listlessly at a pizza in its 10th minute in the oven, waiting for it to cook, has left me plenty of time to reflect.

The many sports teams that play under the University’s aegis, their staff, players and coaches are well aware of this fact. Training is slotted into the few times – early in the morning or late at night – when players are as unlikely as possible to have any competing demands. Unlike elsewhere in the UK, the strict deadlines, individually organised tutorial times and disparate colleges and faculties make attempts to organise training at any other time a non-starter. Each session counts, and success relies on the coaches clinging to the hope that cardio and strength conditioning continue off the training field.

Being laid up with an illness, or injury, doesn’t do much to help that. All the joys of training and exercise, all its mental benefits, fade away as life is reduced to a dull course of foam-rollers, yoga mats and stretching. Whilst the physical side of life injury-free can admittedly be draining, the minor victories of a new personal best, or the calm satisfaction of a workout well done, are a greater loss. In their place, injury leaves us the worst hand to be dealt in sport: an excessive preoccupation with weight and physical appearance, attempting to manage the needs of recovery without returning to the field a blown-up beach ball. Wheezing and hacking up phlegm does not inspire the same joy as a good session on the rowing machine.

But the inconvenience of incapacitation isn’t just that sisyphean labour of fitness. Studying at Oxford University can be an isolating experience. As someone who lives in Summertown, this is doubly so, as the rest of Oxonian civilisation is at least a decent cycle away. A team sport, regardless of its nature, is a partial panacea to any Oxford-induced or more conventional troubles facing you. Walking home with friends made in that sport, breaking out of the walls of your college to meet people you’d otherwise never encounter, chatting whilst endorphins from a game just played still flow, may be the closest thing to Nirvana possible inside the ring road. For an hour or so, you’re mucking in with your mates, rather than confronting a particularly daunting tute essay; for an all-too brief moment, life becomes more manageable, less daunting than it appeared before you stepped out to train that day.

Getting taken out by an injury or illness takes you away from that environment. Recovery times vary: a week, a few weeks, a whole season. The pernicious loneliness fended off on the sports field returns, perniciously redoubling itself, fuelled by self-doubt. How good can you really be if you got injured? Will you return to play at the same level? What will the others: the team, the club, your friends, think of you?

Blissfully, most absences are temporary, the conditions recoverable, the tears, strains and breaks fixable. But their impact lingers long after the mending is finished. There is a temptation to try and make up for that enforced leave by giving 110% to the next training session. But this is only to risk more injuries – to imperil the exact same performance sought through the effort.

The scars of injury are not merely physical, nor are they temporary. Their effects may linger long after a return to play, affecting that area for which there can only be the most complex of cures: the psyche. If a player loses confidence in themselves, or feels some imagined inadequacy they must compensate for, they may never recover. Ultimately, it’s the great coaching, teammates and a healthy club environment that help members of the team return with the same spirit, ethos and commitment they held prior to injury.

Alone, the wears and tears of academic life can break a student. With the added load of sports, that burden is all the greater. But the irreplaceable atmosphere of sport, the bonds it forms and the effort that goes in on and off the field helps to distribute that pressure, making each Michaelmas, Hillary and Trinity a little more bearable.

Grammy-nominated musician appointed Christ Church Composer in Residence

Angelina Wu
-
0
Grammy-nominated musician appointed Christ Church Composer in Residence

Christ Church has appointed American composer Nico Muhly as its first ever Composer in Residence. Based in New York, Muhly has been collaborating with Peter Holder, Director of Music of Christ Church Cathedral for several months. Muhly has previously been Composer in Residence at Sidney Sussex College in Cambridge, and a collaborator with Magdalen College.

The role of a Composer in Residence within Christ Church’s community is still largely undefined. Reflecting on the unique position, Muhly told Cherwell: “There doesn’t exist a handy document from Henry VIII’s HR department saying what it is that I should get up to.” Muhly sees his role to be a provider of music, both in the form of a complete set of service music, and for festivals and holidays throughout the year. The first of these musical contributions, With Harte and Hande, a carol inspired by a 16th century mystery play, received a performance on 17th January in Christ Church Cathedral.

Muhly’s relationship to the cathedral’s choristers has greater definition. He plans on introducing contemporary music to the music traditions of choristers, bridging the gap between the varying practices. Muhly told Cherwell: “I think my ability to speak their language can be useful in showing them music which wouldn’t normally come across their desks or headphones.”

In honour of the College Cathedral Choir’s 500th year anniversary, Muhler plans to premiere a new cantata this summer. Christ Church has long been a source of inspiration for Muhly, who has been “listening to their recordings since the beginning of time”. Muhly told Cherwell: “The goal is to write something that relates to the greater ChCh community, but also something which will have – as the saying goes, legs – which is to say that other choirs will want to perform it.”

Muhly’s experience includes commissions by Metropolitan Opera, Carnegie Hall, the Tallis Scholars, the New York Philharmonic, the Los Angeles Philharmonic, and the BBC. He has also worked with artists including Sufijan Stevens, the National, and Paul Simon, and has scored screen productions such as The Reader, Kill Your Darlings, and Pachinko. 

Muhly was nominated for a Grammy in 2022 for his composition ‘Throughline’, performed by the San Francisco Symphony. 

Reflecting on his role with regards to current and future music undergraduates, Muhly said: “I find that it’s often useful to have a composer Just Around [sic] the place, in the same way it’s good to have the number of a reliable cobbler or seamstress or somebody who can reliably read hieroglyphs – we can do a lot more than you think.”

1...789...2,573Page 8 of 2,573

Support Student Journalism

Cherwell is Oxford’s oldest independent newspaper, established in 1920. We are entirely student-run. By supporting us, you will contribute to keeping our paper in print and online. Every donation makes a difference.

Donate

Explore

Follow us

More

Oxford Student Publications Limited © 2025 - All Rights Reserved | Privacy Policy

Website by Jamie Ashley