‘Sad and loud’ blared the merchandise. A very well-chosen slogan. In a single sentence it sums up all that Ryan Adams is about. The topic, invariably, is his inner sadness and pain. As he reminded us before launching into another song “this one is about me being a miserable bastard, just like all the rest.” He isn’t one for holding back either. The show was certainly ‘loud’, in all senses of the word. ‘I’m feeling a bit low energy tonight’ he claims. Blimey Ryan, I wouldn’t want to see you in full flow.
There was a sense that some of the audience were taken a bit off guard by this aspect of the performance. To be fair, the Sage isn’t exactly the typical venue for this kind of show. Think more violin recitals and French horns. And again, to be fair, you wouldn’t necessarily expect Adams to put on a Kiss style show from listening to his records. Mellow guitar and vocals are the backbone of most of his albums. So it’s easy to see how some less than committed fans may have been lulled in.
But for those who wanted to be there it was a stellar show. In total the performance lasted just shy of two hours, almost without letting up. There was even no pause for an encore. And as someone who finds the ritual of the band walk on and off before the last few songs pointless and annoying, this is something I greatly respect. The ending was something else as well. An overzealous use of the smoke machine left me staring down into a sea of fog for the last song. It also then proceeded to set the fire alarm off. As we hurried towards the exit under the eyes of bemused staff, I was unable to see Adams leave the stage. For all I know he might still be there.
He would have reason to be too. Despite the length of his performance Adams barely scratched the surface of his considerable back catalogue. This is mostly down to his tireless work ethic. Since he released his first album Heartbreaker, in 2000, he has released and average of an album per year. Given this it is impressive he managed to fit in as much as he did. As expected there was highlights from his excellent latest release Prisoner. But he also found time to play classics from Gold certified album Gold and reworked tracks from his time with The Cardinals.
It would be wrong to say it was a flawless performance. Adams did make the classic mistake of referring to being in Newcastle, the pitfall of many performers at the Sage (What happened to the famed stage door reminder that they are in Gateshead?) However, on the strength of this performance Adams clearly has the potential to continue his career for the foreseeable future. Expect many more displays of being sad and loud.
Eccentric is barely strong enough an adjective for Paul Foot, with deliberately misleading show titles, surreal and innovative wordplay and a resolutely nostalgic dress sense characterising his unique style of comedy. Since reading Maths at Merton College in the 1990s, he has been a stand-up comedian for over twenty years, working with Noel Fielding and Russell Brand during his ascension to international acclaim. In addition to touring extensively across the UK and Australia, his appearances on the likes of Russell Howard’s Good News, Never Mind The Buzzcocks, and 8 Out Of 10 Cats has brought him further recognition and praise.
Rather than fans, Foot has a Guild of Connoisseurs. The reason for this, he explains, is simple: “they are Connoisseurs of my comedy, not fans of me. They enjoy the comedy I do, and always come back each year to see the new humour I have created, but if I were to get hit by a bus tomorrow they wouldn’t really mind too much. Well, they would, but only insofar as that would mean there would be no more comedy for them to appreciate.” Such surreal but compelling logic is typical of Foot’s work, and perhaps offers further explanation for his continued success – in a field often dominated by straightforward stand-up anecdotes about families and relationships, Foot’s insights offer a refreshingly off-piste take on the world, and how we interact with each other within it.
Beyond this, of course, his primary aim is to entertain. “I am a comedian, after all; and those who are familiar with my comedy will know that a lot of the information I give to the audience is absolute lies. I often have to point this out for legal reasons, to avoid particularly litigious piglets and other chancers. Having said that, this show is different: this show is carefully laced with a greater meaning about society and the world we create ourselves to live within. The humour is very surreal, but hidden just beneath the surface ye may just find a bit more.”
Foot rarely talks about his time at Oxford, but was happy to discuss his methods of choosing a college. While I picked Merton (perhaps not the most obvious college) on the admittedly bizarre basis that ‘it shares its name with a Womble’, Paul Foot’s application was inspired by more material concerns. “They said it had the best food. And it did. A 3-course meal for dinner was £1.70 and it was ever so posh. I remember we’d see the menu and be saying things like, “Oh no, not partridge again!” while most of the other colleges were stuck eating pasta bake every day. Also, lunch was £1.30 and breakfast was 90 pence. What a bargain! Nowadays you couldn’t get partridge for under £16.30.” Foot can be reassured that Merton continues to have excellent food – including game – at insanely affordable prices (Formal Hall for just over £4!), and it’s cheering to find out that the main attraction for him remains one of Merton’s biggest attractions to prospective students today.
In addition to this, anyone who has met Merton’s legendary barman David Hedges over the last few years will no doubt be delighted to discover that Paul Foot remembers him fondly – “he was a lovely man. He was my Scout too.” Shockingly, however, Foot cannot remember ever having a PowerPint in the bar. Perhaps this is something that needs to be corrected in the future.
Foot’s new venture, as with his past tours, has an offbeat title – “Tis Pity She’s A Piglet” – and his latest tagline declares that “The show that offended 1,000 piglets is back.” Back from where, Foot does not say. “I happened to stumble across a play by John Ford, entitled “’Tis A Pity She’s a Whore”, and I thought that seemed a bit rude. Being a whore doesn’t seem like much of pity. However, if one were a piglet, that would be terrible. Imagine the stress. And that is why it offended a thousand piglets. They didn’t think it was a pity they were piglets at all. Poor, silly little beasts, they had no idea what was coming to them.”
While Foot seems to be keeping the contents of the show quiet, he is excited at the prospect of bringing it to the masses. “When I’m on tour [in the UK] the atmosphere is extra special because I go to a place especially and all the people there are so happy that I’ve come to visit their home. I always feel like a guest. Sometimes they even bring me cake (Battenberg), and once even someone brought me a quail egg. It’s like that in Australia too, because I’ve gone all the way to the other side of the world to visit my Connoisseurs there.
“Edinburgh is special in a slightly different way, because there it’s like my Connoisseurs have come to see me. They are my guests and I am their host. But I’m often too busy performing the show to give them cake or egg. And there’s a show every single night, so I’d have to spend the whole month baking friggin’ battenberg. What a palaver that would be!”
While he might not have time to bake cake for his Fringe audiences, Foot’s devotion to his Connoisseurs is nevertheless impressive, and impeccably in keeping with his surrealist style. When Cambridge student Annabel Pigdon dressed up as Foot, for example (see inset photo), Foot’s comments were effusive and laudatory. “Oh my Gadddd! That is top quality! I’d give her 10 out of 10 for result, but only 3 out of 10 for effort because it wouldn’t be that hard really. She’s already got the right hair, and all those clothes are normal clothes apart from the tin foil. So really all she had to do was wrap some tin foil around herself like a turkey. That’s actually what I call my fashion-style: Turkey-casual.”
To see Paul Foot’s ‘Turkey-casual’ style for yourself, and perhaps even grab some Battenberg (you never know), catch his show “Tis Pity She’s A Piglet” at Oxford’s Old Fire Station on 30th September. Tickets available here for what is sure to be a memorable pre-term treat: https://oldfirestation.org.uk/whats-on/
Fahrelnissa Zeid was a Turkish-born painter, living the life of a democrat. The wife of the Iraqi Prince and ambassador, she dined at dinner tables in countless European countries, toasting and drinking in their diverse visual cultures. She synthesized Western and Byzantine influences into abstract, painting kaleidoscopes of colour onto monumental canvases—devoured by the critics of 1950s London and Paris. And then, on returning to the East, she made sure to paint the carcass of a Christmas turkey and convince the French that it was Mexican art. She was quite the rage.
All her success and scandal however have since been mostly forgotten. Her gender can be thanked for that. As can her Eastern origins—not overly helpful when seeking recognition within a largely European-American canon of art history.
In an attempt to lessen the ‘white man effect’, the Tate has launched the UK’s first retrospective of Fahrelnissa Zeid. And it’s definitely worth a visit. Not only does it show that paintbrushes do exist outside of Western Europe, but it delicately underlines the chaotic narrative of Zeid’s life—punctuated by murder and assassination attempts—without rendering her art itself the supplementary typescript.
Born into the Ottoman elite in 1901, Fahrelnissa Zeid was the first woman to attend Istanbul’s Academy of Fine Arts. Aged only nineteen, she married a prominent author and was whisked about Europe, feasting on its aesthetic. Her life, however, was no glittering Grand Tour—her brother was convicted of killing her father when she was only twelve-years-old, and she lost her eldest son to scarlet fever. Depression consumed much of her life.
It’s hardly surprising then, that Zeid’s early compositions seem a little disjointed and premature. The first rooms contain varied works (portraits, nudes, landscapes…) that are brimmed—to the point of being overstuffed—with differing visual influences. It’s a myriad of tiling and repetition, set in over-crowded interiors and landscapes that are populated with flattened figures. Not unlike my grandmother who religiously collects Russian (matryoshka) dolls, she doesn’t seem to know when to stop bringing in another piece.
The forties, however, brought significant change. Zeid had divorced her first husband, married the Iraqi ambassador (who was, naturally, also the Prince), and moved to London. Here she became engrossed in abstract, as shown by ‘Loch Lomond’ (1948). This painting transforms a local Scottish festival into an Eastern-influenced geometrical landscape, defined by rich black lines. People are small diamonds—they board lozenge-like boats into fractured water which burns red on one side, and muted blue on the other. The nearby work ‘Fight against abstraction’ confirms Zeid’s dedication to the style that would define her career, and win her international acclaim.
The central room of the exhibition contains seven large paintings—they’re products of the late 40s and 50s, and Zeid’s most famous works. It is an explosion of kaleidoscope colour—a splintered refracted ray is dizzily pasted, naked, onto the various canvasses, each claiming a different stake of the colour spectrum and possessing its own pattern. What makes Zeid’s version of ‘abstract’ so engaging is that, despite the presence of intense colour and severe edges, her works feel neither cold-blooded nor hyper-clean. This contrasts to the impression often exuded from similar cubist and modernist art—Zeid’s work is like looking through stained glass, which oozes the energy of a mosaic. As Bülent Ecevit put it: it was “abstract art that did not exclude human and natural elements.”
Zeid’s geometric jigsaws also seem to actually make sense next to their titles. Lapping up considerable audience attention is a five-metre long painting—red and yellow shapes, infected with pointed and greyscale shards, interlock and circulate around a central black chasm. Its form takes inspiration from Islamic art, and also looks like a deranged chessboard. It is, naturally, called ‘My Hell’ (1951)— I’m glad we share the same sentiments about chess.
In 1958, the coup in Iraq put an end to the abstract, as well as the monarchy. The entire Iraqi royal family were assassinated, but Zeid and her family were given twenty-four hours to vacate the London embassy. They had survived, but their way of life was changed forever—Fahrelnissa Zeid cooked herself a meal for the first time ever in her life. She also relapsed into simpler and enigmatic line drawings.
The exhibition concludes with the paintings crafted by Zeid in Amman, the city that she moved to following her husband’s death. Whilst establishing an art school for young female artists, Zeid played with chicken bones and, surprisingly, retreated back to portraiture. Stylized eyes, overly-arched eyebrows, lips pursed and smudged—her Byzantine-inspired portraits are a far cry from her previous crystallized creations. She died in 1991, aged 89.
Having had such a successful career, it is surprising that Fahrelnissa Zeid was forgotten so quickly. Her gender and origins surely played a part in her disappearance, but her lack of a coherent artistic style probably didn’t help either—not that we should purge creatives for being inconsistent. The Tate successfully showcases Zeid’s kaleidoscopes in all their glory, as well her experimentation of differing techniques, seemingly prompted by a life of political uncertainty. Zeid was an artist who used her privilege to fuse the East and West, creating utterly unique abstract creations that prove agreeable to a slight sceptic.
When Kingsman: The Secret Service was released back in 2015, it was hailed as a refreshing departure from its action film counterparts. It had a killer sense of style, likeable and, at times, well-developed characters, and dealt with themes of class prejudice, social mobility, loyalty, and political extremism, although often ham-fistedly. A lot of these things are present in The Golden Circle but their impact has diminished, falling victim to that curse as sequels often do.
To put it simply, Kingsman: The Golden Circle is a confused mess of a film. There are so many ideas being juggled that not one of them is fully developed. The sharp parody of the genre is still there, but The Golden Circle spends so much time clinging to the success of its predecessor – many of the original gags are recycled – that it verges on excessive self-parody. Indicative of this is resurrecting Colin Firth’s ‘Galahad’ after he was shot at point-blank range in the first film, which of course saps any impact that death scene had. Some of this self-parody is admittedly clever, at its best when it subverts the audience’s expectations. As a whole, however, the film lacks the audacity to play to the strengths of its new ideas. By far the most interesting concept in The Golden Circle is the interaction between the British ‘Kingsman’ and the American ‘Statesman’. But Statesman’s involvement is so inconsequential that it comes across as an afterthought. Here was the potential for some ingenious humour, potential which is criminally squandered.
In fact, I have no idea what the focus of The Golden Circle is. This is not helped by the fact that barely any of the events of the film carry the emotional weight they would have possessed in the original. Brutally killing off vital members of Kingsman at the very beginning of the film should be a tragic event but the characters forget them so quickly that, by the end of the 140 minute romp, I had forgotten them too. That said, one scene towards the end of the film is a huge exception, proving that, given enough time and good enough writing, Kingsman can still deliver tragic moments.
A good microcosm for The Golden Circle’s problems is its villain, played by Julianne Moore. She is eccentric for the sake of being eccentric, comes out of nowhere, and her plan is absurd. Samuel L. Jackson’s villain in the original was a complete cartoon character, for sure, but his motives were fleshed out and he served as a good comparison to Eggsy with his nouveau riche style acting as a contrast to the old money air of the Kingsman organisation. The similarity between this new egomaniac stuck in a reconstructed 1950’s America and the President of the USA is a witty statement about the image-fuelled, back-stabbing nature of American politics. Aside from that however, this villain is just placed into the story without any satisfying explication of her grudge against Kingsman. Is it because they are a threat? Then why does she not eliminate Statesman too, the organisation operating in her own country? It is a mess.
Yet, for all my rambling, The Golden Circle still has the spirit of Kingsman at its core: an indomitable sense of style, punctuated with bonkers fight scenes, a sublime soundtrack, and masterful use of slow-motion which knows exactly when to bring down the pace for dramatic impact. One fight at the end of film is a technical and choreographic marvel, filmed in a single shot, a technique which never fails to make me grin the whole way through. It is just unfortunate that the fight scenes were never the best parts of the original Kingsman, while here they clearly are.
That is the best summary of Kingsman: The Golden Circle I can give. While the original was a clever parody satirising the tropes of conventional action films, The Golden Circle is just an action film. It is a very enjoyable action film but the baffling plot and mishmash of neglected concepts left me asking, like Eggsy, “not who, but why?”
Aung San Suu Kyi was, until recently, something approaching a saint in the eyes of the world. As both an activist and symbol, she has had considerable success in the quest to bring democracy to Myanmar. Her reputation has fallen quickly from these lofty heights as the plight of the Rohingya has become obvious. The Annan report noted that the Muslim Rohingya minority has been oppressed within Buddhist-dominated Myanmar for years. They lack citizenship and other basic rights.
Anger over this marginalisation appears to have come to a head with attacks on border posts in 2016 which the government in Myanmar blames on Rohingya extremists. The military response has been overwhelmingly violent with thousands of refugees fleeing in what has been described by the UN as ‘textbook ethnic cleansing’. These refugees are fleeing military attacks which have destroyed villages and killed many. The Burmese military is a powerful political force but it no longer dominates as it did in the years of the Junta. Aung San Suu Kyi stood up to the Burmese military for many years when she did not hold high office. In this context, the bland call for an investigation in her speech (19th September) is so disappointing.
The debate has raged since then on whether the assorted awards she has won in recognition of her activism, including both a Nobel prize and an honorary degree from Oxford, should be taken away. It seems obvious to point out that a failure to act to prevent suffering makes us complicit in that suffering. This applies to all of us but some, in this case Aung San Suu Kyi, have the power to do more. Her refusal to condemn the actions of the military and police in Rakhine state will help prolong the crisis and cause more suffering. In short then, she seems no longer to possess the courage and kindness that first brought her acclaim and accolades. Others may be guiltier but they are not renowned for her qualities. We cannot expect those we regard as heroes to be perfect but the longer her inaction continues the more it begins to resemble complicity.
Taking her various awards, however, can be seen as a mere distraction from the problems of Myanmar. We have no guarantee and very little reason to assume that taking away any awards will put pressure on her. The focus on the issue of Aung San Suu Kyi’s degree then reveals either arrogance or naivety. Do we believe that the power of our approval alone is sufficient to change things in Myanmar? I would hope not. There seems then to be an overwhelming interest in preserving the ‘sanctity’ of the award. Oxford, a world-famous and globally-leading institution cannot have its honours and awards borne by a person who has failed so cataclysmically as Aung San Suu Kyi, we are told.
This arguably valid interest cannot help by appear self-indulgent now that hundreds of thousands of refugees have entered Bangladesh. There almost seems to be a fear that not taking the degree away would amount to a form of approval, but this too is illogical. Rhodes, for example, a man whose actions and ideology most would today condemn, has a statue in Oxford. And yet we worry about the message that a piece of paper sends?
This debate over the issue of her awards seems to be evidence of western self-obsession rather than of concern for the condition of the Rohingya. We seem to be scared that the tarnishing of our symbols of approval will do damage to us. But our consciences will be far more troubled if we fail to move beyond this self-indulgent concern for symbolism and act practically to help the Rohingya. This crisis is nearly a year old and as its anniversary approaches, we seem no closer to finding a solution or to helping Bangladesh deal with the refugees. In short, inaction and symbolic arguments are not going to help anyone. It is time that the Rohingya came first in the eyes of the world. Otherwise, this crisis might see many more anniversaries.
Marc Jacobs, Sir Ian McKellen and Anthony Scaramucci are among the speakers that will appear at the Oxford Union this Michaelmas term, Cherwell can exclusively reveal.
Singer Emeli Sandé and American film director J. J. Abrams are also set to appear.
They are some of the first names to be revealed from the Union’s term card of individual speaker events, which includes figures from the world of fashion, sport, and politics. The list will be released in full on Sunday.
Figures of note include a joint address by Marc Jacobs and Edward Enninful, heavyweights of the fashion industry: Enninful is the incoming editor of British Vogue and Jacobs is known for his fashion label and range of fragrances.
Prominent American politicians are also due to speak this term, with Donald Trump’s loudmouth former director of communications Anthony Scaramucci appearing in second week and veteran US Senator Orrin Hatch speaking in November.
The actor Sir Ian McKellen, known for his appearances in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, will return to the Union following a famous appearance in 2014 which saw him recite the legendary Gandalf line: “You shall not pass”.
J. J. Abrams, the director of the Star Trek reboot and latest Star Wars films, is among the rest of the highlights from the world of film. The American actress Liv Tyler will also be appearing.
The Union has announced an open period up to 19 October, when all Oxford University and Brookes students can attend debates and speaker events for free. Access to events after this date is limited to members.
The full release is expected on Sunday.
Who’s speaking
Marc Jacobs and Edward Enninful
Fashion lovers will be delighted to see veteran designer Marc Jacobs speak alongside British Vogue editor Edward Enninful on Friday 6 October at 20:00.
Creative director of Louis Vuitton until 2014, Jacobs is best known for his fashion label and line of retail stores. Enninful took over British Vogue after Alexandra Shulman’s retirement earlier this year.
Kevin Rudd
Twice Labour prime minister of Australia, Kevin Rudd is a heavyweight figure in Australian politics who oversaw his government’s apology to indigenous Australians after winning a landslide in the 2007 election. Forced to resign following internal tensions, Rudd was a candidate for Secretary-General of the United Nations and is now a Senior Fellow at the Harvard Kennedy School of Government.
Rudd will speak at the Union on Wednesday 11 October at 20:00.
Anthony Scaramucci
Popularly known as “The Mooch”, Scaramucci was appointed Communications Director in the Trump White House on July 21, before a controversial interview led to his firing just ten days later.
The Mooch was also previously accused of connections to a Russian investment firm by CNN, although these allegations were ultimately retracted.
Scaramucci will speak at the Union on Monday 16 October at 20:00.
J. J. Abrams
The director behind the Star Trek reboot and the latest Star Wars films, J. J. Abrams has a storied career in science fiction both on the big and small screen.
Abrams won two Emmy Awards for the hit TV show Lost, and through Star Wars: The Force Awakens is the director of the third highest-grossing film of all time.
He will speak at the Union on Wednesday 18 October at 20:00.
Sir Ian McKellen
Photo: Jack McGuire
Cambridge alumnus Ian McKellen, best known for his roles as Gandalf in The Lord of the Rings and Hobbit trilogies and as Magneto in the X-Men films, is an English actor who has in recent years become a champion of LGBT rights.
McKellen, from Burnley in Lancashire, began his career in theatre in the 1960s, but became widely recognised for his film roles in the 1990s.
Patron of Oxford Pride and a co-founder of Stonewall, Sir Ian McKellen will be speaking at the Oxford Union on Wednesday 8 November at 20:00.
Emeli Sandé
Emeli Sandé.
Scottish singer Emeli Sandé was studying for a Medicine degree at Edinburgh University before shooting to fame in 2011 with a host of chart-topping songs including ‘Read All About It’ with Professor Green and ‘Beneath Your Beautiful’ with Labrinth. Her debut album, Our Version of Events, was the biggest-selling album of 2012, shifting over one million copies.
She released her second album Long Live the Angels last year, and was awarded Best British Solo Artist at the 2017 Brit Awards. Earlier this year, she was also decorated with an MBE for services to the music industry. Her songwriting career has seen her pen songs for Rihanna, Leona Lewis and Tinchy Stryder, among others.
She will be speaking at the Union on Monday 13 November at 20:00.
Orrin Hatch
Photo: United States Congress
Utah senator Orrin Hatch is president pro tempore of the United States Senate and most senior Republican senator, in office since 1977.
A long-term advocate of balanced budgets, Hatch is notable for sponsoring several constitutional amendment attempts to ban budget deficits.
As president pro tempore of the Senate, Hatch is the second highest ranking official in the Senate and is empowered to preside over the Senate in the vice president’s absence.
Hatch will be speaking at the Union on Friday 17 November at 17:00.
Monica Lewinsky
Photo: Damon Winter/The New York Times, provided by the Oxford Union)
American activist and fashion designer, Monica Lewinsky rose to fame after President Bill Clinton admitted to having an “inappropriate relationship” with her whilst she was working as a White House intern in the 1990s.
Press coverage of the ensuing scandal saw Lewinsky engage in a number of public ventures including a line of handbags and an advertising role for a diet plan.
After completing a master’s degree in psychology at the LSE, Lewinsky has since become a social activist speaking out against cyberbullying.
Lewinsky will speak at the Union on Thursday 16 November at 15:00.
Liv Tyler
Model and actress Liv Tyler first achieved critical recognition for her role in Stealing Beauty, but achieved widespread fame with her portrayal of Arwen in the Lord of the Rings trilogy.
Making her television debut on the HBO series The Leftovers, Tyler has served as a Unicef Goodwill Ambassador for the United States. She will appear in the BBC miniseries Gunpowderalongside Kit Harrington next year.
Tyler will appear at the Union on Wednesday 29 November at 17:00.
Lavinia Woodward, the “extraordinary” Christ Church medical student who stabbed her boyfriend, is to have her future at Oxford decided by the University after receiving a suspended jail sentence.
Woodward stabbed her then-boyfriend, a student at Cambridge University, in the leg with a bread knife after punching him in the face. She also threw a laptop, glass, and jam jar at him in the attack on 30 September last year.
The 24 year old gained national notoriety after crown court judge Ian Pringle QC in May appeared to suggest that she would not receive prison time, prompting tabloid headlines such as “too clever for prison”.
He said: “It seems to me that if this was a one-off, a complete one-off, to prevent this extraordinary able young lady from not following her long-held desire to enter the profession she wishes to would be a sentence which would be too severe.”
Pringle sentenced Woodward today to a 10-month sentence, suspended for 18 months, meaning she will not go to prison unless she commits another offence.
Woodward will not return to university this year, and is reported to be considering continuing her studies abroad, because she is now “too recognisable.”
In a statement to Cherwell today, Christ Church Dean Martyn Percy said: “We note that Lavinia Woodward has been given a suspended sentence as a result of her conviction for unlawful wounding earlier this year. As a College we are concerned for the welfare of all our students, and it is clearly a matter of regret and sadness when any young person blights a promising career by committing a crime.
“Ms Woodward is not currently studying at Oxford, having voluntarily suspended her medical studies. The question of her future will now be decided by the University, which has procedures in place where a student is the subject of a criminal conviction.”
Sentencing Woodward at Oxford Crown Court today, Judge Ian Pringle told Woodward: “There are many mitigating features in your case.
“Principally, at the age of 24 you have no previous convictions of any nature whatsoever.
“Secondly, I find that you were genuinely remorseful following this event and, indeed, it was against your bail conditions, you contacted your partner to fully confess your guilt and your deep sorrow for what happened.
“Thirdly, whilst you are a clearly highly-intelligent individual, you had an immaturity about you which was not commensurate for someone of your age.”
A former Dragons’ Den star, a firebrand left-winger, and the leader of the Liberal Democrats are among the debates and socials speakers at the Oxford Union in Michaelmas 2017, Cherwell can reveal.
Sir Vince Cable, Theo Paphitis and Ken Livingstone will appear in debates at the famous society across the term, discussing issues including the future of the EU, populism, and the ideal of of true love. Shadow Foreign Secretary Emily Thornberry and American lawyer Jeh Johnson are also set to appear.
Throughout this week, Cherwell is exclusively revealing the details of the Union’s term card for the upcoming term, ahead of a full release listing individual speakers on Sunday.
Sir Vince, Thornberry and Labour MP Hilary Benn will lead the proposition in the traditional No Confidence debate in first week. They will face Tory MP Damian Green on the opposition, with two reportedly high-profile names yet to be announced.
Later in the term, Secretary Jeh Johnson, Barack Obama’s former head of homeland security, will join Anthony Romero, director of American Civil Liberties Union, in a debate on liberty and security which will also feature the former French Prime Minister Bernard Cazeneuve.
Former Dragon’s Den star Theo Paphitis will face off outspoken Tory backbencher Anna Soubry and former Liberal Democrat leader Paddy Ashdown in a debate on whether the “decline and fall of the EU is upon us”.
A full list of names of debates and their speakers can be found below, with further releases of individual speaker events being released by Cherwell later this week.
Among the names announced is Ken Livingstone, the controversial former London mayor who came under fire during a visit to the Union last year for his comments regarding anti-Semitism. He will be joined in a debate on populism by Arron Banks, one of the biggest donors to Ukip and the Leave.EU campaign.
Other notable political figures include Natalie Bennett, known as much her infamous “mind blanks” as for her leadership of the Green Party during the 2015 general election, as well as the Shadow Secretary of State for International Trade, Labour MP Barry Gardiner.
From second week, attendance to the debates is members-only – requiring students to splash out £269.86 on a life membership – but the Union allows card-carrying Oxford University and Brookes students to attend events for free during its open period which runs to 19 October.
The details of the Union’s programme of social events throughout the forthcoming term has also been announced. It includes an Olympus black tie ball on 3 November, an ‘Into the Movies’ social on 27 October, and a Wine and Cheese social on 20 November.
Zach Quinto will host an LGBTQIA+ welcome drinks on 4 October.
Among other details to be revealed include a LGBTQIA+ welcome drinks hosted by the Star Trek actor Zach Quinto on 4 October. Further welcome drinks will be held for Brookes students on 1 October, internationals on 3 October, graduates on 6 October and debaters on 7 October.
The Union will also hold a ‘Students Essentials Fair’ on the Friday 6 October and Saturday 7 October.
The Union’s individual speaker events, which feature the most high-profile figures, will be revealed later this week.
No Confidence Debate – 1st Week
Hilary Benn will speak for the proposition. (UK Parliament/Attribution License 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/)
The House Has No Confidence in Her Majesty’s Government (12 October)
Proposition: Hilary Benn, Sir Vince Cable, and Emily Thornberry
Opposition: Damian Green… The Union was unable to announce the other speakers until Monday of the week of the debate “due to the sensitive nature of scheduling requirements”
True Love Debate – 2nd Week
This House Would Abandon the Ideal of True Love (19 October)
Proposition: Simon Blackburn, Amy Webb
Opposition: Richard Cowles, Charly Lester
Liberty and Security Debate – 3rd Week
This House Believes We Have Sacrificed Our Liberty for a False Promise of Security (24 October)
Proposition: Secretary Jeh Johnson, Anthony Romero
Opposition: Bernard Cazeneuve, Avril Haines
Climate Debate – 4th Week
Barry Gardiner MP. (UK Parliament).
This House Believes Individual Apathy is the Greatest Threat to Our Climate (2 November)
Proposition: Barry Gardiner MP, Minister Barbara Hendricks, Sir David King
Opposition: Secretary Ernest Moniz, President Mohamed Nasheed, Natalie Bennett
Populism Debate – 5th Week
Ken Livingstone.
This House Believes Populist Leaders Deliver No Real Change (9 October)
Despite being the first play of theatrical behemoth Christopher Marlowe, Dido, Queen of Carthage has scarcely been performed since its original debut in 1587. An operatic version was produced in 1794, then promptly lost in the Drury Lane Theatre Fire, and the National Theatre offered a version in 2009, but otherwise there have been very few notable adaptations of the play in theatrical history. Consequently, the RSC’S decision to revive this under-performed tragedy as part of the Rome season was a bold one – but, ultimately, one that paid off in spectacular style.
The narrative, based on books 1, 2, and 4 of Virgil’s Aeneid, recounts the tale of Dido, the newly established queen of Carthage, who finds Aeneas and his troop of Trojans shipwrecked on her coast, fleeing the wreckage of Troy in search of Italy. While the Aeneid focuses on the political and historical significance of Aeneas’ journey, with his experience in Carthage merely a pit-stop, Marlowe realigns the focus to sharpen Dido’s individual story, and in doing so transforms a plot point into a self-contained tragedy.
Of course, extracting a single story-arc from an epic is always going to be a difficult task, and Marlowe’s use of the classical original reads a little bit like intellectual masturbation at times. He includes reference to a wealth of minor characters (e.g. Turnus, Aeolus) who play an important role in Virgil’s poem, but contribute nothing to a play centred on Dido . The amount of exposition required to justify Aeneas’ arrival in Carthage also results in a tonal disjunct between the two halves, with the second half containing the majority of Dido’s story and most of the emotional high points of the play, and the first half mostly trying to justify the dramatic landscape. This exposition also incorporates the introduction of subplots that are never resolved – for example, Juno’s jealousy over Jupiter’s affection for Ganymede, and Venus’ interest in Ascanius – which adds an unnecessary level of complexity if you have not read the Aeneid, making it harder to place the characters we do see on stage in the context of the wealth of classical myths that are alluded to.
The RSC’s impressive production, however, goes some way to circumvent the difficulties presented by the text through the use of costumes and staging. The individual qualities of the gods are never explained fully in the text, so Cathy Hill’s costume design includes kitsch allusions to their archetypal characteristics; Venus (the goddess of love) wears a red ball gown, Hermes (the messenger god) has a set of wings attached to his crown, while Jupiter wears a suave white suit, not dissimilar to Morgan Freeman’s style as God in Bruce Almighty. The staging is also effective; given that the Swan Theatre has an in-the-round set, Kimberley Sykes’s imaginative use of the space (especially in the final triadic scene between Dido, Anna and Iarbas) should be admired.
Lots of the directorial decisions are also effective at rejuvenating the classical material, especially Sykes’s decision to have the gods walking among the audience before the show begins, injecting a metatheatrical element that really emphasises the hierarchy of the divine and mortal characters. It is perhaps interesting to consider the way the divine/ mortal relationship reflects the relationship between audience and character; in a lot of classical texts, the presentation of the gods spectating the lives of mortals from a position of superior knowledge is not dissimilar to the position of the audience as the play begins, and aligning the divine characters with the audience in contrast to the spectacle of the mortal figures is a clever decision that emphasises the futility of Dido’s hopes and prayers against the rage of the god in the machine.
Even disregarding the artistic directorial choices, the RSC’s interpretation would stand up as a powerfully emotive production off the strength of the actors alone. In typical Marlowian fashion, the aspects of the story with the potential for drama are heightened to maximum emotional impact (e.g. the addition of Priam being maimed before his death), which makes for multiple emotional high points over the course of the play. Consequently, Aeneas’ description of the fall of Troy is narrated by a powerful monologue from Sandy Grierson, who, along with the other Trojan characters, brings a convincing sense of urgency to the cast of shipwrecked refugees. The stand-out performance, however, comes from Chipo Chung as Dido. Her tragic final scene is a hard one to execute convincingly, yet Chung manages it masterfully, reconciling the powerful external status of Dido’s achievements as a leader with her internal breakdown, portraying the dignity of a spurned woman in a way that at no point vitiates her strength.
The supporting cast are also incredibly strong. Amber James is arresting as Anna, Dido’s love-torn sister, and Achates, played by Tom McCall, is notably impressive in his support and admiration for his leader, even through moments of doubt over some of his decisions. The divine characters are also skilled at providing some comic relief in between the emotive events that take place in the mortal world, with Ben Goffe’s portrayal of Cupid standing out in particular. The rivalry between Juno and Venus, played convincingly by Bridgitta Roy and Ellie Beaven, also brings to mind a 16th century version of Made in Chelsea in the way it manifests itself in feigned conciliation and eloquent bitchery, a vibe that is reinforced by their black-tie costumes. Similarly, the opening scene between Ganymede and Jupiter adopts the darkly comic humour that has characterised the RSC’s Rome season, which establishes a dissonantly comic hallmark, meaning that the nonchalant disaffection of the gods only serves to reinforce the tragedy of the mortals in comparison. It is a shame the gods do not feature as heavily in the second half, but that fault lies with the script and not the production.
Aside from the intensified melodrama, the majority of the plot is surprisingly true to Virgil, which makes it a greatly gratifying play to watch if you’re familiar with the Aeneid. The success of the RSC’s production, however, lies in the fact that you don’t have to be versed in the classics to appreciate the human tragedy at the core of the narrative, and Sykes’s ability to make Marlowe’s verbose vaunt accessible is surely impressive. Even if you are unfamiliar with the material, this clever and bold adaptation from Kimberley Sykes is about as cool as Dido, Queen of Carthage can realistically get, and her achievement in bringing the tragic story of a complex and strong classical heroine to a modern audience should not be understated. A daring, poignant and powerful production that does phenomenal justice to Dido’s sorry story.
A mere 40 minute drive may separate the two, yet striking cultural differences exist between Oxford and South Buckinghamshire.
Having arrived in Oxford for the first time, I was immediately disorientated. I stared at passers-by on Broad Street, wide-eyed and horrified. The masses of bicycles, sure, I understood. I had used such contraptions to get around at home – two wheels, a slight death wish, goes fast. Makes sense. It was the city’s other favoured method of transportation – walking – that truly confused me. Never before in my life had I seen people walking to places of actual purpose.
In Buckinghamshire, you see, walking usually gets you only to (another part of) the countryside, a pub, or your MP’s second home. Walk ten minutes in one direction, you hit a field, walk 20 minutes in the opposite direction, you hit another. It’ll be greener than the first. With a bus service on life support, South Buckinghamshire is one beautiful, yet uneventful, overpriced Countryfile calendar (note: there’s a train to London). In Oxford, however, I was amazed to find that you could get to places on foot – places where things actually happened. The prospect was rather dizzying. The realisation that I would see a 4×4 car perhaps just once a week, rather than four times a day, itched my brain. Uncomfortably.
If that wasn’t enough change to cope with, my eyesight started to worsen in the city. Something was messing with my vision, and I was seeing parts of the colour spectrum I’d never seen before. It had first appeared in the fringes of my view but now was visible everywhere, especially around my college, Balliol. I soon came to terms with what I was seeing – it was the colour ‘red’. It was an unfamiliar sight, exceedingly rich in tone. Sure, my parents had once told me that colours other than blue existed, but they had remained unclear, mocked, unexplained. The optician told me there were no problems with my retinae. It was just a processing dysfunction, derived from political colour-washing, that was mending itself. I told her that I had previously never seen a red seat in my entire life. She laughed.
She proceeded to ask me whether I was suffering from any side effects – “Headaches? Migraines? Nausea?” I replied saying that I was experiencing a newly questioning conscience. Since arriving in Oxford, questions such as “Was it actually ok for my MP to claim expenses on dog food?” and “Is High Speed Two really more important than my friend’s paddock?” had kept me up all night. The optician laughed at me again, assuring me that my mind was radically reordering for the better. She advised me that it would be for the best if I didn’t try to speak in the JCR until the process was completed. I readily obliged.
I began to fear that Oxford and Buckinghamshire shared no semblance of each other. Middle-class embers of hope, once brightly glowing, were now dull flakes. Refusing to believe this to be the truth, however, I forced myself to find things that made home feel a little closer.
I found most of these things on the shelves of Botley Road’s Waitrose. But what I failed to find in the supermarket was even more poignant. This year a catastrophe of unforgettable proportions arrived at our doorstep. It struck the taste buds and sanity of Oxford’s inhabitants as badly as those belonging to residents of the home counties – I speak solemnly of the Hummus Crisis of April 2017. A wicked metallic taste tore through our produce indiscriminately, leaving our shelves barren and us weeping, together, in the deli aisles. United in sorrow, we mopped up our tears with sauce-less rye bread, dry as the Sahara in spring. As one body, we grieved. Isn’t it strange how, for some communities, it is music that brings people together, or sport that defies the boundaries of age, politics and class – but, for us, it was the noble chickpea?
With hummus back in my life, perspective flooded back in too. In the form of ITV. I suppose one thing that never fails to make Oxford seem that little bit warmer on a cold and crisp evening is the channel’s murder dramas. Midsomer Murders is staple home counties viewing – it features graphic scenes of gardening shears shoved down throats, actions fuelled by the internal disputes of local bird-watching associations. They regularly film in Buckinghamshire. Similarly, Oxford – Turl Street in particular – is frequently used as a shooting backdrop for the detective dramas Lewis and Endeavour. Knowing Oxford and my home share this purpose keeps me feeling toasty in bed at night.
It seems, then, that Oxford and South Buckinghamshire aren’t so different after all. And if I do feel homesick, questionable internet speeds and beers priced at £5 a pint pull me through. Whilst walking still remains a new phenomenon, I admit that such a primitive mode of transportation seems remarkably agreeable when, at home, a £20 taxi is the standard conclusion to any night out.
Twice Labour prime minister of Australia, Kevin Rudd is a heavyweight figure in Australian politics who oversaw his government’s apology to indigenous Australians after winning a landslide in the 2007 election. Forced to resign following internal tensions, Rudd was a candidate for Secretary-General of the United Nations and is now a Senior Fellow at the Harvard Kennedy School of Government.
