Cherwell - Third Week, Trinity Term 2020 by Cherwell

Cherwell

Vol.291 No.2 | 3rd Week | 15 May, 2020

Cherwell Independent since 1920 The Editorial Team Trinity Term TT20 EDITORS David Alexander and Tilly Walters editor@cherwell.org DEPUTY EDITORS Eve Bennett, Luke Dunne, Joe Hyland Deeson, Maya Misra, Felix O’Mahony, Lucy Tansley NEWS EDITORS Imogen Duke, Christina Kirk, Violeta Perea Rubio cherwellnews@gmail.com DEPUTY NEWS EDITORS Catherine Dema, Mark Robins NEWS REPORTERS Madison Carroll, Matthew Schaffel COMMENT EDITORS Helena Murphy, Eleanor Ruxton

DEPUTY CULTURE EDITOR Sofia Henderson FASHION EDITORS Emmaleigh Eaves, Raphael Zyss DEPUTY FASHION EDITOR Ashley Cluer

FILM EDITORS Danielle Rae Childs, Gemma Robson

MUSIC EDITORS Alec Holt, Calum Taylor DEPUTY MUSIC EDITOR Lily Tidman THE SOURCE EDITOR Mimi Pattinson LIFE EDITORS Sophia Cerullo, David Tritsch CULTURE EDITORS Kaira Mediratta, Trudy Ross culturecherwell@gmail.com

FOOD EDITORS Morayo Adesina, Savannah Hawley DEPUTY FOOD EDITOR Katie Schutte

STAGE EDITORS Abigail Howe, Akrivi Ventouras

DEPUTY FILM EDITOR Samuel Lapham

DEPUTY FEATURES EDITOR Jonathan Tevendale

SPORT EDITORS Tom Lyne, Martin Yip

BOOKS EDITORS Jess Curry, Yii-Jen Deng

DEPUTY COMMENT EDITOR Jasper Evans FEATURES EDITORS Mika Erik Möser, Izzy Tod

PROFILES EDITORS Isabella Colletta, Lucas Jones cherwellprofile@gmail.com

DEPUTY LIFE EDITOR Alice Peat

Cherwell is published by Oxford Student Publications Ltd. CHAIRPERSON Christopher Sinnott MANAGING DIRECTOR Hung-Jen Wu COMPANY SECRETARY Annabel Bainbridge FINANCE DIRECTOR Maggie Wang LEGAL DIRECTOR Annie Fan For all advertising enquiries, contact OSPL at advertising@ospl.org, or visit www.ospl.org Printed in Great Britain

INVESTIGATIONS EDITORS Florine Lips, Flora Murray, Airuo Zhang VIDEO EDITORS Cara Cox, Rufus Fox VIDEO TEAM Thomas Barker, Rob Chamberlain, Edu Estevez, Tony Farag, Louis Rabinowitz, Sam Lewis, Ellie Wilkins CREATIVE TEAM Emily Reed (Head) Charlotte Bunney, Isobel Falk, Francesca German, Aaron Hammond Duncan, Justin Lim, Francesca Nava, Rubia Rose Southcott, Georgia Watkins, Phoebe White, Ellie Wilkins

C H E RW E L L CONTENTS NEWS

INVESTIGATION

Union falls short on post-Azamati reforms

City Centre gets once-in-generation changes

Oxford provides meals for vulnerable

Towards a Transparently Funded Careers Service

OPINION 12 14 FEATURES 16 CULTURE 19 20 FASHION 21 STAGE 22 FILM 23

Woes and wonders of daydreaming What’s in a name? Blind Faith? In conversation with student artist Charlotte Bunney Young Rembrandt: The Making of a Master Met Gala 2020: Keeping the spirit alive A ‘Clean Break’ From Crime A Phenomenology of Lost Cinemas

MUSIC 24

Now that’s what I call...poetry?

BOOKS 25

Lost in Translation

THE SOURCE 26 LIFE 28 30 SPORT 31 PROFILES 32 FOOD 34

What follows is an apology... What getting hit by a bus taught me about Oxford Blind Date Project Restart: A Vital Conversation In Conversation with Dame Harriet Walter Reconnecting through food

NEWS

Union falls short on Michaelmas reforms

Tilly Walters

Friday, 15th May 2020

nion staff have failed to complete diversity and equality training, and committee training in Hilary term was not attended by the full com-

mittee. In Michaelmas, blind Ghanaian student Ebenezer Azamati was violently removed from the debating chamber of the Union, and had his membership temporarily revoked. This led to impeachment proceedings and the resignation of the President. Subsequently, the Union implemented new standing orders for the training of staff and committee members. Standing Order E15 states: “The President shall each term approach the University Training, Mentoring and Advisory Services to arrange for: a) An implicit bias workshop b) A race awareness workshop c) A disability awareness workshop to take place for all members of staff and committee.” These workshops, however, took place for students, but not staff, in Hilary term. Staff training has not yet occurred, despite it being mandated by the standing orders. Rule 59.a, concerning staff, states that “general oversight” for the Society’s staff lies with the Bursar, who is part of the Society’s permanent paid staff. Training sessions for the student committee were held in first week of Hilary term by the Disability Advisory Service, but were not attended by those who had “valid reason” (clarified in an announcement to committee as ‘a tutorial that can in no way be moved’). While there was supposed to be “another [session] for those members of committee who did not make the first one”, this session did not occur. Sara Dube, the ex-President, told Cherwell: “Organizing the training was a priority for me in Michaelmas, after I brought the Standing Order change to TSC. I was well aware that everyone’s schedules would fill up quickly once term began, so wanted to get the training dates and times in as soon as possible. “I booked two sessions for the first week of Hilary, one with the University Disability A d v i - sory Service and one with OUSU,

over six weeks in advance. I made it clear to committee that the training was compulsory, and was glad to see the majority of committee attend both sessions (those who couldn’t attend had an immovable academic commitment at the same time). “When the possibility of arranging a second training came up in Access Committee a few weeks later, I agreed. However, the initial trainings were booked over six weeks in advance and it wasn’t possible to find a suitable date for us until the last couple of weeks of term. I suggested to Access Committee that it may be more practical to have the next session at the start of Trinity, and they agreed. “To ensure ease of arrangement of training for all future Presidents, I left all correspondence regarding the arrangements on a folder in the President’s inbox.” In a comment to Cherwell, current Union President Mahi Joshi, said: “A large proportion of the committee at the time attended, actively participated in and engaged with both of these training sessions. Since these sessions were organised by the President at the time, Sara Dube, with no record passed on to myself or the current committee, I am unable to provide exact attendance figures, or details of logistical arrangements.” In relation to staff training Dube stated, “I booked both training sessions with the intention of them being held for both staff and committee. Before the first of the sessions, myself and the Head of the Disability Advisory Service (who was running the session) were informed that the staff already had access to online training covering the areas of both the scheduled sessions, which would be completed.” Joshi said, “It is my understanding that staff training was to take place in Week 8 of Hilary Term, but could not, due to changes to staff schedules resulting from the CO-

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VID-19 crisis, to which the Union was having to adapt.” She added, “The training was to take place online, and the provider had been identified by the member of staff in charge of overseeing it. I am told that, due to the frequent turnover of staff in the Union, the training was to be undertaken by members of staff once the shifts for TT20 had been identified.” Some staff have been trained, but exact numbers were unavailable. The Union was unable to comment on whether the security staff involved in events in Michaelmas had received training, due to it being an ‘ongoing disciplinary matter’. In a Standing Committee meeting in first week of Trinity Term, after questions from the Access Officer about commitment to staff training, the Bursar stated that she was “still investigating it.” Staff and committee for Trinity Term have not yet been trained, due to the closure of the Union as a result of the Covid-19 pandemic and ensuing lockdown restrictions. Staff have now been furloughed. Joshi added, “The majority of the Union’s staff members work with us on a part-time basis, with wide-ranging hours. In order to work around this, provisions were being made for staff to partake in online training, which could be accessed in their own time, overcoming the logistical and contractual challenges of gathering all the staff in one place at any given time.” Concerning the future training of both student committee and paid staff, she stated that efforts to try and source ‘alternative’ training for current committee this term was ongoing, and that she remained committed to the requirements of the standing order. While the pandemic and lockdown requirements had meant that committee did not have in person duties, they would have otherwise been trained at the start of term. Joshi stated: “In Michaelmas Term 2020, when the Union will hopefully be in a position to resume in-person events, my successor will be committed to ensuring that the new committee is trained at the beginning of the term, before commencing their duties. We are also committed to ensuring that provisions for staff training are in place for when they return to work from furlough.”

Friday, 15th May 2020

NEWS

In short: City Council explores “once in a College chef takes generation” changes to City Centre Trinity to Instagram Catherine Dema

xford City Council have announced plans to explore “once in a generation” improvements to Oxford City Centre. Potential improvements would address public space and transport in the city. The measures would be designed to jumpstart the economy after the COVID-19 lockdown and encourage people to get back into the city as restrictions are eased. Because the lifting of social distancing restrictions will be slow, the City Council wants to implement measures to increase public safety as social distancing measures remain in place. Some measures may remain in place well past the end of lockdown. Oxford City Council is partnering with the transport authority, Oxfordshire County Council, and the University of Oxford to explore potential temporary and permanent measures. The measures are intended both to improve safety to protect the public from COVID-19 and to transition the city to a more sustainable, environmentally-friendly future. The City Council’s announcement states: “With the Government indicating that lockdown may be gradually lifted, with social distancing measures [that] will continue in a relaxed form, the City Council recognises that public spaces such as city centres, shops, and cafes must consider how to maintain public safety whilst also returning to operation.” Potential improvements include: reallocating road space, improving conditions for cycling, re-organising bus routes, altering hours of loading bays, pedestrianising Broad Street, and exploring an outdoor cafe culture. Highlights of the measures being explored include closing roads, widening pavements and imposing new one-way restrictions on roadways. The goals of the arrangements are to provide a cleaner, healthier city centre that accords with post-lockdown restrictions. The measures would be supported and informed by joint transport projects Connecting Oxford and Oxford Zero Emission Zone – both of which are being brought forward jointly with Oxfordshire County Council. Since the beginning of lockdown, there has been a 59 percent decrease in nitrogen oxide levels at the St Aldates air pollution monitoring sta-

tion. The reduction represents the cleanest air in the city centre in several decades. The City Council measures aim to capitalise on and build upon the environmental improvements. Councillor Alex Hollingsworth, cabinet member for planning and sustainable transport, commented on the proposed improvement in the Council announcement: “At a time when our daily news is filled with stories of heroism and tragedy it seems strange to be thinking about what Oxford and Oxfordshire might be like when we finally emerge from lockdown. Even so, things will be different. And if things are going to be different, we need to start thinking about how they might be better.” Infographic: Emily Reed

Florine Lips

Trinity College’s Head Chef, Julian Smith, is helping students recreate their favourite college meals at home by uploading detailed recipes online. So far, eight recipes have been published on the college’s website and Instagram page, subject to request and popularity. Students can request certain recipes they’d like to try, and find them under #CookingWithJules on the college’s Instagram page @trinitycollegeox.

OXFORD CITY COUNCIL Proposed Arrangements

REALLOCATING ROAD SPACE Temporarily reallocating road space (through road closures, traffic light controlled oneway streets, and wider pavements) to allow people to walk and cycle safely into and around Oxford.

CYCLING Supporting and improving cycling for commuting and daily journeys through the creation of segregated network of cycle routes, improvement in cycling infrastructure, and additional on-street cycle parking

Re-organising bus routes in order to create additional road space required for pedestrians and cyclists

Suspending all loading bays during ‘customer’ hours to increase space for pedestrians and cyclists

BROAD STREET Pedestrianising Broad Street with the removal of on-street parking bays and redesignating the space for social distancing-compliant mix of activities, including seating, but also potentially e.g. market stalls for businesses limited by social distancing in their own unit plus displaced street traders

OUTDOOR CATERING Exploring an outdoor café culture, with temporary tables & chairs zones outside food premises to maintain capacity, whilst adhering to social distancing and maintaining a balance with additional space for walking and cycling

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Catherine Dema

University of Oxford has recently announced a partnership with biopharmaceutical company AstraZeneca for global development and distribution of the University’s potential recombinant adenovirus vaccine aimed at preventing COVID-19 infection from SARS-CoV-2. The partnership aims to bring the ChAdOx1 nCoV-19 vaccine to patients if the vaccine becomes distributable.

Oxford City Council set to lose millions LOADING BAYS

BUS ROUTES

University announces vaccine partnership

Matthew Schaffel

Oxford City Council stands to lose £24 million, according to Council Leader Susan Brown as a result of the Coronavirus pandemic. This marks a sharp change in economic fortunes for one of the few UK councils to usually return money to the Treasury.

Zoology Department explores lockdown relief Christina Kirk

Researchers from the University of Oxford’s Department of Zoology have tested the efficacy of two possible lockdown release strategies. The UK was used as a test case. Findings from this research showed that a gradual re-integration approach would ensure that infection surges are prevented. Visit cherwell.org for the full stories.

Friday, 15th May 2020

NEWS

Oxford colleges provide meals for the vulnerable Isabella Colletta

number of Oxford colleges have joined forces to assist with an Oxford Mutual Aid (OMA) project to make and deliver hot meals to the vulnerable in Oxfordshire. University College announced they would be re-opening their kitchens on 1st May to to restart the meals delivery service, in partnership with OMA, Dementia Oxfordshire, and AGE UK. The pilot scheme, named “The Kitchen Collective”, was launched by OMA following cuts to the home meals delivery service because of social distancing measures. Since launching the scheme at the beginning of May, a small team of volunteers, including the University College Head and Sous Chef, have been working to continue to expand the programme. Between 6th May and 8th May, the number of meals provided as part of the initiative grew from 170 to 350 hot meals. Jesus and Wadham College both announced recently that they would be supporting and up-scaling the project by providing University College, with further funding to continue meal production and to ensure the sustainability of the scheme. Angela Unsworth, University College Domestic Bursar, expressed in a statement to Cherwell that: “University College is pleased to be able to support vulnerable people in our wider community at such difficult times. We are grateful for the collabo-

rative efforts of Wadham and Jesus Colleges in assisting us in doing so.” Ruedi Baumann, Director of Accommodation, Catering & Conferences at Jesus College, explained the colleges’ decision to contribute to the project saying: “We were initially approached by OMA, who were asking colleges if they could support any of the wide range of projects they’re running to help vulnerable people during the pandemic. This initiative, instigated by Univ, is a wonderful way to collaborate with other colleges in order to support the community and one we are very happy to be a part of.” France Lloyd, Domestic Bursar of Wadham College, further added that “Wadham was keen to help OMA after hearing about their pilot scheme. This initiative is a wonderful way to collaborate with other colleges in order to support our Oxford community.” Meals are given to Dementia Oxfordshire and AGE UK home service users, in-

Zoom libraries and Discord beer pong: Virtual college life takes form

Mark Robins

ocial distancing has not stopped students from continuing college life. Whilst buildings may be closed, Entz and welfare events have transitioned online this term. Exeter JCR has created a ‘Zoom library’, which students can join to study alongside each other. To recreate the library atmosphere, participants place their microphones on mute while working. Students wishing to have a break or chat with friends can join a breakout room, acting as a ‘virtual JCR’. “At first the idea was a bit of fun,” said JCR President William Dodds, “but then we thought having an online space where people could work alongside each other might make it more bearable. “We planned on opening it only on weekday mornings, but it’s since taken off and it’s now open all day throughout the week. People come and go as they like and keep it on in the background while they work. It has only worked because everyone has responded so well and kept it busy.” St Catherine’s Entz team has hosted social

events on the video call application Discord. The platform allows users to join different ‘tables’, each with a small number of people, and switch between them, as they would do in the college bar. Different activities, including dancing, take place in each ‘table’. For the first event, organisers encouraged students to wear fancy dress and make a cocktail from a suggested recipe. Entz Reps Laura and Benji told Cherwell: “We knew we wanted to carry on with Entz this term because it’s such a big part of Catz life. The Discord server worked really well, and people could chat and easily move between conversations like they do normally at Entz events.” The event was Pride-themed and over 50 people attended. The Entz team gave out awards for best outfit and drink. They added: “The highlights would probably be the ‘dance floor’ room where music was playing pretty loud and there was also a virtual beer pong game going on in one room with people coming in and out. We are really excited for the next one.” University College Music Society has organised open-mic nights via Zoom. CHERWELL

cluding those suffering with dementia and the elderly, families who receive free school meals vouchers, and other food insecure people within the Oxfordshire community. A spokesperson from OMA expressed the importance of the College’s support for the project, stating to Cherwell: “We are delighted to have had donations and other offers of help from many different colleges, including Christ Church, Wadham, St. Catherine’s, Jesus, Merton, St. Anne’s, and Univ.” Pointing to the importance of the project, OMA said: “Given the uncertain times ahead, we must all work together to ensure that no one in our community is going hungry. “The colleges play a unique role in city life, and it is wonderful to see such a clear and unequivocal show of support [...] we all think that the involvement of the colleges has helped cement the idea that we are all in this together.”

‘Open Mic Reps’ Guy and Memoona said: “We’ve already had two which were very successful, family members have been getting involved and the reception has been great. We have people perform covers, original music, poetry, and stand-up comedy. We’ve actually had a turnout that’s better than some of the in-person events. “The highlights have to be when people get their families involved. We’ve had someone perform a duet with their father on accordion, someone’s mother read out some poetry, and had a brother-sister singing duet.” Several colleges are using video calls to continue welfare support during lockdown. This includes Mansfield College’s weekly welfare teas, run by Chaplain Sarah Farrow. “It’s a way to reconnect with the Mansfield community - to remember that you are part of something bigger,” said Rev’d Farrow. “If you’re feeling ‘stuck’ – at home, in college or wherever you are –joining the online welfare tea is a good way to get outside of one’s own situation.” Elizabeth Li, Junior Dean, added: “Our hope is the welfare teas will help students to continue to feel part of the Mansfield community even where they’re not here physically. It’s helpful for students to see that everyone is experiencing similar feelings and challenges.”

Friday, 15th May 2020

NEWS

LMH Principal selected for Facebook overview board Lucy Miles

lan Rusbridger, Principal of Lady Margaret Hall and former Guardian editor, has been announced as one of 20 members on Facebook’s new independent oversight board. Two years after Mark Zuckerberg announced his intention to create a structure to moderate content, Facebook has named its first 20 members. Rusbridger will sit on a panel which includes Yemeni Nobel Laureate and free speech advocate Tawakkol Karman and Stanford law professors Pamela Karlan and Michael McConnell. The board will rule on the line between hate speech and free speech, reviewing the most controversial decisions on whether to leave or take down polarising content on Facebook and Instagram. It will also act in a ‘Supreme Court’ like capacity to hear appeals from users on material that Facebook has removed. Facebook moderators will continue to use their combination of computer algorithms and human input for general rule enforcement, only employing the board on

matters of high importance. The board is empowered to overrule Facebook executives and moderators on content issues, and decisions will be binding unless implementation risks violating the law. Speaking to Cherwell, Alan Rusbridger said: “The pandemic is a stark realisation that unless you can agree on facts, and that there are such things as facts, running society becomes very difficult.” Rusbridger did not underestimate the enormous scale of this challenge. He made clear that this is not “a magistrates court”, hearing every issue, but rather an attempt to pull together big themes, in the hope that “over time we will get to grips with the patterns of behaviour that most disturb people, and our rulings will set a clearer template for Facebook to make decisions.” He described “the chaos of information, where even the most powerful politician in the world spends his time trying to blur the boundaries between facts and fantasy. There is no getting away from the fact that social media has been a big part in this. This has become one of the most urgent

problems facing the world at the moment.” The announcement comes as research conducted by Avaaz reveals that 40% of misinformation surrounding COVID-19 was found on Facebook, prompting the company to direct users viewing false news to the WHO website. Facebook has invested $130 million in this oversight board, membership of which will double over the next six years. The co-chairs will collaborate with Facebook in selecting the next 20 members. Facebook will then withdraw to leave the board to determine its composition independently.

Oxford provides online learning resources for school students Lucy Tansley

xford University is providing resources to help children learn while schools are closed. The Department of Education is providing online home-schooling resources and Oxplore, a digital learning portal, has seen significantly increased traffic. Oxford’s Department of Education aims to “contribute to all phases of public education in the UK and internationally” with its research and services. It has collated a large selection of materials to help parents home-school their children during the COVID-19 pandemic. Their website, which brings together over ninety links for helpful websites and learning tools, echoes efforts from around the university to provide support for those working from home. Balliol College have created a set of similar resources and guides for educators to help them with online teaching, as well as advice for parents. Oxford University Press has also created an online portal for those in all stages of education in lockdown, aiming to

provide “expert advice, resources and tailored guidance to support children’s learning”. Its ‘Oxford Owl’ service offers activities and material for teaching primary school age pupils in particular. Oxford University runs a digital outreach portal Oxplore, which offers an accessible look at ‘Big Questions’ aimed at 1118 year olds through quizzes, exercises, and activities. Questions include ‘Does a god exist?’, ‘Can war be a good thing?’, ‘Does it matter who you love?’ and ‘Should healthcare be free?’. Although designed for use by young people, Oxplore has produced resources for parents hoping to engage their children in lockdown and is running livestream events to discuss new topics. The University states that visits to the site had increased by 43% in the first weeks of lockdown, and that more than 8,900 of these visits were from first time users. The resource was previously popular with city-based users, with top users in London, Liverpool, and Birmingham. The University states that there has recently been increased engagement from remote regions such as the Isle of Man. CHERWELL

Dr Samina Khan, Oxford’s Director of Undergraduate Admissions and Outreach, and a former teacher, commented in a statement: “We want to target these resources in particularly those students from disadvantaged backgrounds, who may never have engaged with the University before, but are in the process of making important decisions about their higher education future and considering whether Oxford could be the right choice for them. Oxford’s online resources will arm them with the information they need.” Oxplore has recently expanded their content to adapt to the current climate. In a post on the outreach blog, Sarah Wilkin, Outreach Officer at Oxford University, wrote that “in the next few weeks, the Oxplore team will be posting mini-challenges for 11-18 year olds to complete using oxplore.org”, with the aim that these activities will “give students the opportunity to practise key skills used in university study such as building an argument, summarising information, and producing a creative response to a source.”

Friday, 15th May 2020

NEWS

Oxford student launches app to help social distancing Florine Lips

doctoral student at Oxford has co-designed an app to help users practise social distancing by locating crowded areas in their neighbourhood, which can then be avoided. The app, Crowdless, focuses mainly on supermarkets, and uses real-time data, both crowdsourced and taken from existing sources such as Google Maps, to provide information on how busy they are. It aims to encourage safe social distancing by advising the public on when to visit supermarkets and other public places. Launched on 20th April, the app was developed by Lanterne, a UK-based social enterprise co-founded by Sebastian Müller, Yohan Iddawela and Alex Barnes, a doctoral student at Oxford. All three specialize in conflict technology, and the app had originally been conceived as a way of helping those living in conflict zones avoid danger, but the Covid-19 pandemic led them to shift their focus towards encouraging the public to safely follow government regulations. The highest number of users are based in Germany and Spain, and they aim to reach 100,000 weekly users around the world within the next three months. The app was developed with the support of Oxford Foundry, an organization set up in 2017 with the aim of su-

pporting Oxford students and alumni in their entrepreneurial endeavours. Last year, Lanterne won the best post-graduate idea award at the Foundry’s All-Innovate competition, and in March of this year the enterprise was presented at the Oxford Saïd Entrepreneurship Forum. Lanterne has been featured on the Foundry’s website as one of 13 ventures who are actively responding to the Covid-19 pandemic, all of whom are being supported as part of the Foundry’s OXFO COVID-19 Action Plan. As a GDPR compliant app, it does not collect users’ personal information and adheres to data privacy protection standards. The information provided is collected on an opt-in basis, using only the most relevant results. The enterprise works closely with Adapt to ensure that data protection standards are met. Co-developer Alex Barnes said: “Our plans to roll out our core product — an app to help people navigate safely in conflict areas — were heavily disrupted by the COVID-19 outbreak. We were keen to see what we could do to help in the current circumstances, and we came up with Crowdless. We think it will be extremely useful for people who need to travel to shops and grocery stores but are trying to do social distancing effectively to protect themselves and the wider population.” The app is available for free on Apple’s App Store and Google’s Play Store.

Image courtesy of Lantern Ltd. CHERWELL

71% of surveyed Europeans support universal basic income

David Tritsch

he COVID-19 crisis appears to have increased public support for radical economic solutions in Europe. A survey published by the Europe’s Stories research team at the University of Oxford, revealed that 71% of those interviewed support a universal basic income (UBI). Cherwell spoke to Timothy Garton Ash, leader of the research group and Oxford Professor of European Studies on what his findings could mean for the future after COVID-19, how we can combat economic uncertainty among young people, and whether the Boomer generation might be more supportive of student activism than we think. Do you think this level of support [71%] for a universal basic income has to do with heightened uncertainty during a pandemic or is it a policy Europeans have always supported? The figure is remarkable. I think support was growing because of a sense of inequality following the financial crisis and growing economic insecurity. This was then massively catalysed by the pandemic, partially of course because quite a few governments are already expanding their social security nets during the lockdown. Does public support for policies like the universal basic income in the UK match the European response? Yes, in this polling that we did, Britain is not an outlier. One of the things we discovered, ironically enough, is that just after Britain has left the EU, we see just how European the country is. The celebration of the NHS and the social care system in this country has been enormous – and what could be more European than a national health service and a strong welfare state? Why do you believe has public support for a universal basic income not been matched by a policy response in Europe? A universal basic income is certainly a radical proposal and has to be thought through quite carefully. A UBI is a cluster of concepts for a more equitable society: even Milton Friedman, a neoliberal economist, has proposed a negative income tax – people below a certain income receive money from the state instead of paying taxes. A form that I find really interesting, especially for students entering the economy is what I call universal minimum inheritance: to level up the inequality between those who have rich parents and those who don’t, everyone would get a public inheritance at the age of 25.

Friday, 15th May 2020

Towards a transparently funded Careers Service Irene Zhang

estled in a tranquil lot on Banbury Road, the Careers Service is the University’s main provider of graduate advising. In the last five years, 26,194 appointments were made for individual counselling, in addition to programmes which regularly attract hundreds of participators. On average, nearly 350 internships are arranged through the Careers Service each year. The Careers Service highlights ‘best-informed career decisions’ in its Mission Statement; its financial background, however, put this principle into question. A Cherwell Freedom of Information request reveals that its most significant source of revenue comes from stall fees at careers fairs throughout the year; the annual Michaelmas Term Careers Fair in October, for example, goes for £1134 plus VAT per 3.35m stall in the Examination Schools. The steep cost of attending appears to correlate with less exposure for less financially secure sectors: separate fairs for Teaching & Education and Arts, Advertising & Media have been discontinued, while Management Consultancy, Law, Finance, and Computing all have individual fairs. Attendance at these fairs also reveals an imbalance: while only 76 organizations were on the list of attendees for the most recent non-sector-specific Careers Fair, 94 firms and organizations were present at the 2018 Law Fair and 98 companies attended the 2018 Science, Engineering & Technologies Fair. There is no doubt that asymmetric economic growth in recent years contribute heavily to this disparity: jobs for IT Engineers in the UK increased by 33.7% last year alone, while growth in the service sector has been slowing dangerously. However, in rewarding financially lucrative firms with greater prominence, the Careers Service walks a fine line between securing funds for its programmes and providing truly impartial, student-centred service. Its funding model further tips the balance towards lar-

ger, established firms in a few specific sectors through running a VIP scheme for its core sponsors. Organizations can join The Oxford Recruiters’ Group as either an Associate or a Partner, and over the last 5 financial years the Careers Service gained £559,208 from membership fees. In return, these organizations are charged less for attending fairs, directly promoted on the Careers Service website, receive discounted advertising in publications, and are given complimentary newsletter spaces. Those who join the scheme as a Partner, additionally, are given a 50% discount on advertising, room rentals, and stall fees, and are featured in weekly student newsletters for free. Nowhere in the Careers Service’s student newsletters is it clarified that the organizations being promoted are paying for advertising: the Week 1 Trinity 2020 newsletter, for example, links to software firm TPP’s website as an ‘Oxford Employer Profile’ without specifying that this placement is due to their membership of the Recruiters’ Group. A quick glance at the membership of the Recruiters’ Group clearly indicates obvious issues with this funding model. The 7 current members of the Partner tier are overwhelming software, technology, or finance firms. Moreover,and almost half of its Associate-tier members are law firms. On its website the Careers Service states that Recruiters’ Group members ‘work closely’ with them to advise on recruitment; if so, said collaboration undermines the Careers Service’s impartiality. Without third-party supervision, is it possible for the Careers Service to serve students with complete transparency and individualization when the vast majority of its funding is tied to VIP memberships that exclusively benefit global firms and stall fees which distinctly penalize less immediately profitable institutions? Beyond ethical uncertainties, the Careers Service may be painting an inaccurate image of the labour market for students. The

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INVESTIGATIONS Law Society forecasts that by 2038, employment in the legal sector ‘could be 20% less than it could otherwise have been’, as thousands of legal positions disappear due to Brexit and progressive automation. Meanwhile, the Health & Social Care sector faces the largest vacancy crisis in the UK with more than 120,000 unfilled positions. Only 6 out of over 100 recruiters at the most recently Science, Engineering & Technologies Fair were from healthcare-related organizations. Of course, it would be unfair to lay the blame entirely upon the Careers Service: negative media coverage, unenticing pay, and low satisfaction rates all contribute significantly to the lack of young health workers. However, it is the Careers Service’s responsibility to inform prospective graduates of significant needs and recruitment gaps in the market. Think tank research has shown that 67% of small- and medium-sized businesses (SMEs) across the UK are facing significant challenges with recruiting and retaining talent, especially ones outside London. If university careers advisors and programmes continue to prioritize its largest donors, it implicitly puts start-ups and smaller businesses most in need of new talent at a significant disadvantage and misguides graduates. The presence of various teacher-training programmes at the Careers Fair last year promises improvement: in 2019 the National Foundation for Educational Research found that the next decade will bring a ‘substantial teacher supply challenge’. If the Careers Service can continue to secure places for sectors with strong personnel needs, it will be on the right track. The University said “The University of Oxford Careers Service prides itself in providing impartial careers advice and guidance to students – allowing them to make informed decisions about their next steps after University. “In line with careers services across the sector, we work with recruitment partners spanning a range of industries – including many that promote positive social change. All roles are promoted equally so that students can make fully informed decisions about their futures, with many Oxford graduates going on to work in the education, health & social care, and charity & development sectors.” Read the full investigation at cherwell.org.

EDITORIAL

The bare necessities

David Alexander Editor-In-Chief

t primary school, I was friends with someone who was really unpopular. He had his faults, it was true: he could be bullish and capricious and some of his stories were just definitely not true (Bobby Moore and Pelé in the same packet of ‘Match Attax’? Get away…). But the main thing his detractors used to mock him for was the fact that his mum worked in a supermarket. Going “beep… beep…beep” around him was their main weapon; the implication being that the boy’s mum was doing a machine’s work, and was broadly dispensable. Except of course she wasn’t, and only now is the country beginning to realise this. Finally, we have a distinct category for those who do vital work: ‘essential workers’. Some essential workers had the benefit of pre-crisis reverence. Everybody loved doctors, for instance, didn’t they? And rightly so: I could and would have

uzzfeed News announced this week that they’d be furloughing their British and Australian news teams, justifying cuts with a “focus on news that hits big in the United States during this difficult period.” It’s one of many big hits to UK editorial teams - local newspapers are suffering and closing, and nationals are having to undertake significant job cuts. Even your humble Cherwell team had to deal with this - with the University closed for the first time since the Second World War, we could no longer operate on a college subscription model. The debate over journalism’s role in the pandemic, I felt, culminated in the reaction to the Sunday Times’ investigation into the government’s response. If you haven’t read it - though you should - it focused on the government’s failure to address issues and concerns including the absence of the Prime Minister from early COBRA meetings. Rather than just outrage at what the article revealed, its publication sparked a debate about the paywall on the article. Criticism centred around the claim that, since the facts in the article were in the public interest, it should be free to access. Notwithstanding the fact that the Times allows non-subscribers to read two free articles a week, the paywall is a necessary function of the digitisation of news. People

used this column to wax lyrical about the NHS, had it not been done so assuredly last week. Eve Bennett’s leader argued that clapping alone won’t undo decades of underfunding and mismanagement. Money is needed, urgently, and I agree. But, for some time, the general sense has been that health workers should be respected (rightly, as I say). They retained a kind of proto-Hippocratic dignity, and received pure awe from the non-scientific likes of me. For any kid with an inch of schoolwork success, being a doctor was quickly established as the ultimate goal. Compare and contrast with: “beep… beep…beep”. Finally, in the category of ‘essential workers’, we have a phrase that ties the doctor to the shelf-stacker, the police officer to the grave-digger, the post-office worker to the bus driver. If this nation is an organism, then these people run the arteries. Without them, society would not function. So, it’s about time we treated them better, especially now they’re at heightened risk. This fact is pretty incontrovertible. Recently released figures from the ONS revealed that people in low-paid, manual

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are more absorbed by news coverage than ever, and, as the ST article demonstrates, quality journalism can shift public opinion quite significantly. This article seemed to be enough of a ‘public interest’ story that people were criticising that it wasn’t free to access, yet were unwilling to pay for the work that had brought that information into the light. People are desperate for information: death rates, safety advice, vaccine updates - and the numbers and changing information is overwhelming even with the most careful explanation. Free to view coronavirus coverage recognises the moral implication of financial exclusion: providing this information without a subscription barrier (hopefully) goes some way towards halting and slowing the spread of fake news, exactly when it could be most damaging. Alan Rusbridger, former Guardian editor, wrote that “chaotic information was free: good information was expensive”. That’s arguably all the more relevant given the prevalence of coronavirus disinformation. A free press doesn’t run without financial security: it’s unlikely that any of the biggest stories that have changed society in recent decades (as an example - the New Yorker’s coverage of Harvey Weinstein, the Boston Globe’s coverage of the Catholic Church) would have come about without extensive CHERWELL

jobs face a much higher risk of dying from coronavirus than those working in higher-paid, white-collar occupations. Men in what the report calls “low-skilled jobs” are demonstrated to be four times more likely to die from the virus than those men working in professional occupations. Similarly, women working as carers are twice as likely to die, as women occupied in professional/ technical roles. The government needs to help. It’s not good enough to urge many occupations back to work when they lack any detailed, occupation-specific advice on how to operate safely. Nor is it acceptable to demand in-person functioning without sufficient PPE. But we, as a country, also need to change our view of much essential work. Doctors and supermarket workers are vital to the basic operation of the country. They allow the likes of myself to mess about writing bland and tenuous essays on Peter the Great’s legacy, and dither over what to write Cherwell editorials on. They are staggeringly brave, and they fully deserve our admiration. Yes, it may only be a start, but it’s about time essential workers were recognised as being just that.

Tilly Walters Editor-In-Chief and expensive investigation. This work has received Pulitzers for a reason - it’s changed policy and public opinion. The loss of Buzzfeed’s UK editorial team reflects the company’s reliance on the often unreliable model of advertising revenue. This pandemic will change our daily lives for a long time, and it’s not just newspapers who will have to adapt to changing consumer spending patterns, and quite significant shifts in the structure of normal life. Journalistic models are complex, and not restricted to free/paid: the state funded BBC may see the loss of the licence fee, while the Guardian is moving towards a semi-subscriber driven model. The media will have to confront the twin issues of the inherent inequality and inaccessibility of strict paywalls, while also recognising that advertising is not a reliable, steady source of funding. Balancing quality and the costs that comes with it is the key to reliable journalism that’s accessible by the majority.

LEADER

Capturing the Zoomgeist: Coming to terms with our ‘New Normal’

Joe Hyland Deeson Deputy Editor

fter eight weeks of lockdown, there are finally small signs that the government will begin to loosen restrictions. Yet these small changes have been misunderstood by some as a sign that we are beginning to return to ‘normal’. This stubborn sentiment demonstrates a nation still recovering from denial. Granted, we now realise this pandemic for what it truly is, which is a great threat to our way of living that needs serious action in order to be solved. Still,many are not prepared to look forwards towards an increasingly uncertain future, understandably preferring instead to hope that it will soon resemble the past. This sentiment is a recognisable part of the Kübler-Ross model of the ‘Five Stages of Grief’, something which has been increasingly applied to wider experiences of loss, such as that of normality which we currently face. While the model presented below is a highly simplified and generalised study, it does hold weight in relation to my own personal experiences. The first stage is denial. As Hilary Term came to an anticlimactic end, with the usual final week BOPs curtailed, few were considering the possibility that we would not be returning for Trinity. The signs were all there, with examples such as the cancellation of exams due for the fortnight after all being ignored by those who were keen to avoid confronting re-

ality. I myself was as guilty of this as everyone else, with my initial reaction to the decision by my college to cancel its BOP being one of outrage. I continued to deny elements of the situation we were facing for some weeks. Denial of some form persists throughout the grieving process. Many people continue to deny reality. This leads to the next stage: anger. There was anger at the closure of pubs and schools, the view of which has completely changed in retrospect. We were also angry at others, who had dared suggest that the effects of coronavirus could last for years. Finally, we were angry at the government. Almost as soon as a full lockdown was announced, people began to assign blame to each other, the infighting by those attempting to lead the country setting a poor example for its people. The next stages come together, both a product of the point of ultimate catharsis. Firstly there is bargaining. The rules on lockdown have never been completely clear. Many people justified their actions in breaking them, that a simple trip to see a friend could hardly do any harm to the wider nation. At this stage, many people’s grief for the loss of normality partly subsided. As the entire nation began to admit reality to itself, issues such as mental health became more prevalent in the discussions of daily news than ever before. Yet this was only the eye of the storm, and had the potential to cause depression, the fourth stage. This is the stage where the last shreds of denial disappear, sometimes all at once, and people are left overwhelmed and daunted by the size of the crisis that we are facing. For me, this coincided with the moment when it looked as though daily death tolls would touch four figures. The entire situation was becoming harder and harder to rationalise. The final stage of loss is the resolution, the acceptance of a new reality and the idea of finally moving on. This seems almost impossible given the longevity of the crisis, but the desperate clamouring for a return to the past is certainly one aspect which can be overcome. We learn new skills which were not needed before, some which we would always like to have

perfected, others that we never knew we needed. I find my growing ability to lipread phrases such as “can you hear me?” and “is my mic on?” over Zoom calls falls into the latter category. Many people are at different stages of this process, and this structure is a hopelessly simplistic narrative of a complex reaction to something none of us have confronted in the past. Some people are able to settle into routines, replace their old passions with new ones, and are lucky to feel largely free of the physical and mental pressures many people face. This is by no means a mindset that anyone should be expected to have reached, but it is useful to think about it as a goal. Learning about personal likes and dislikes is key to facing the ‘new normal’ head-on. There are some activities which we used to do but now cannot. We tend to focus on these. But there are also many new pleasures that have been discovered only because of the conditions of lockdown. Someone is generally seen to be at the final stage of grief when they can demonstrate that they have adapted their life to the loss that they experienced. They do not need to cast off emotion, nor forget the past, only to look towards the future. It would be very easy to shut oneself off in this present climate, and to forget the concepts of wider nationhood, even to forget your close friends. But isolation does not require these actions. From the small to the large scale, there remain countless opportunities to embrace this new way of life, and to find new methods of experience. Some things will be irreversible. It is likely that social norms such as handshakes may change in the long term. Everyone will have to adapt their behaviour. But this is as much about letting go of pre-set concepts of the ‘normal’ as it is about physical change. The journey towards finding a new equilibrium does not originate in the daily briefings from Number 10. It has to be a product of each individual, however long it takes them, coming to terms with the reality that the future we face is not like the past that we are familiar with. Once this fact is assured, our new normality will become just that: normal.

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CHERWELL

OPINION OFF IN WONDERLAND: THE WOES AND WONDERS OF DAYDREAMING JB & LH

t is hardly controversial to say that lockdown is having an impact on the way we think. The perfect storm of reduced social contact, loss of routine and difficulties accessing support has led to significant increases in anxiety and depression for many. We suddenly have more time for quiet contemplation and a greater desire for escapism, leading many to turn to daydreaming to give some respite from the difficulties of life under lockdown. Daydreaming is a fantastic way to flex your creative muscles. You can imagine almost everything, from the banal ‘what am I going to cook for dinner,’ to a wild and whimsical parallel universe where everyone has pink hair and communicates via whistling. It is a safe space for self-expression and exploration. Daydreaming is also a deeply personal experience, a place for reflection, an outlet for frustrations and regrets. Many of us have, no doubt, found ourselves worrying about the uncertainties that come with future life. Our brains’ default mode is daydreaming; we drift in and out of daydreams when we are not focused on a task due in part to our biology. And whilst it is a perfectly normal thing to do, it is not always as harmless as it seems.

“From the banal ‘what am I going to cook for dinner,’ to a wild and whimsical parallel universe where everyone has pink hair and communicates via whistling.” Daydreams became a lifeline for me during difficult patches at school. Living in a small village predominantly populated by retirees, I struggled to make friends my age. This, combined with the dullness of village life, meant my life was tedious and lacking socially. Daydreams gave me an escape. They let me create a world in which I was effortlessly cool, talented, and beloved. Soon it took over my life. I would lay in bed for hours without sleeping because I was too busy expanding my ever-burgeoning world to give my brain a rest. I never felt the need to pick up hobbies because in my daydreams I could do anything I wanted

Illustration by Phoebe White

and became so wrapped up in them that I pushed reality aside. The term ‘maladaptive daydreaming’ (MD) was first introduced to me when I was around 14, around the same time that the negative sides to this obsessive daydreaming started to show. Back then very little was known about MD with only a few preliminary studies on the subject which have since been expanded upon. I perfectly fit the symptoms for what some consider to be a new disorder and which, until this point, I took to be normal behaviour. MD is more than simply getting lost in your thoughts. It describes a state in which daydreaming becomes an addiction which negatively impacts a person’s health and wellbeing, often bringing difficulties in sleeping, concentration, and socialising. Its main causes are thought to be boredom and lack of social contact – pretty concerning in the current context of social distancing. Daydreams, by nature, set up the dreamer as the central focus and portray them as the idealised version of themselves. While harmless when thinking about everyday situations, MD made me take this to the extreme. I spent hours making my perfect dream-self which I could never realistically live up to, making me disillusioned and frustrated with my real life. Daydreaming was now

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CHERWELL

the cause of, not the solution to, my dissatisfaction. In the distant pre-lockdown era, I had it under control. I was able to identify my compulsive behaviour as harmful and starting university had finally given me the close circle of friends and busy lifestyle I needed. But the rapid spread of coronavirus across the globe means we are suddenly faced with an indefinite amount of time at home and a total transformation of lifestyle. I am one of many people finding that daydreaming is becoming an increasingly large part of daily life. Does this mean we will be seeing more people suddenly develop an unhealthy relationship with daydreaming? I have my doubts. Daydreaming is an overwhelmingly positive and normal reaction to the current situation. By and large, it is harmless when it has none of the obsessive-compulsive features that characterise MD. So dream away! Imagine seeing your friends again, and all the things you will do and see together. Think of the quiet joy found in café dates, old libraries, late-night chats with friends and all the million and one other things we took for granted before the pandemic. Just don’t get carried away; there are serious physical and psychological dangers of letting your daydreams become your reality.

OPINION EQUAL PAY FOR EQUAL WORK?

SHORTS: Feminist Icons

Orna Rifkin

hen the gender pay gap arises in those late-night, student-kitchen debates over feminism, it’s often dismissed; there are laws in place to prevent it, and UK government statistics from 2019 show that for full-time employees under 40, the pay gap is close to zero. So, as some of my flatmates would say, why is it still an issue? I think a closer examination of the statistics (rather than flatly accepting the few favorable ones) will show us why. Legislation passed in the UK, from the Equal Pay Act 1970 through to the Equality Act 2010, has not been effective in closing the gender pay gap due to the kind of work women are expected to do. The principle of these laws, that women should receive ‘equal pay for equal work’, falls short of the fact that the work women do is often unequal to men’s work. In 2019, while 91.3% of men in employment aged 30-49 had full time jobs, only 59.4% of women from the same group did — pay cannot be the same if men are working for many more hours than women. A further look at the statistics shows that the only occupational roles in which women outnumber men are ‘Administrative and Secretarial’ (67.7% women) and ‘Caring, Leisure and Other Service’ (75.6% women). These figures are not shifting. Other breakdowns of the data show that weekly, these groups earn £458 and £392 respectively, both below the national median of £584p/w. Indeed, ‘Caring, Leisure and Other Service’ was the lowest-paid group. So, this shows us that the current gender pay gap debates, which focus upon egalitarian earnings across unequal groups, do nothing to address the fact that a disproportionate amount of women occupy the least well-paid roles. They may get equal pay, but for unequal work. If these national statistics seem too ge-

neral, I’ll give you an example from our own university. While any academic will tell you they don’t have the best salary, there are far more women in academic-related and support positions than in the (generally better-paying) academic roles at Oxford — and the university data doesn’t include jobs specific to colleges like scouts, porters, and catering staff. The statistics show that 70.5% of academic staff are male, with the higher-paying professorial roles comprising of 80.4% men. Women only outnumber men when it comes to support roles in a range of areas, including libraries and museums. So, what exactly is going on that stops women from accessing higher salaries, when all of the legal boundaries seem to have been removed? I believe a combination of the social responsibilities still faced by women can be used to answer this question. In the UK, men only receive two weeks’ statutory (paid) parental leave, while women get 39, partly because the fact of pregnancy cannot be ignored — but with statistics like those in a 2015 report suggesting an average of 54,000 new mothers lose their jobs a year, this gendered process seems to be putting women at a disadvantage. Add to this the fact that 90% of single parents are women, and findings that women conduct around 60% more housework than men, and it’s easier to understand why more part-time workers over 30 are women, and why their professional roles are restricted. One of the more radical solutions offered to solve this pay inequality is the wages for housework movement, supported by feminist theorists like Silvia Federici and Christine Delphy, which certainly seems more egalitarian than pushing for more women CEOs. Either way, these problems can’t be mansplained away over a post-library (or post-Fever) cup of tea.

CHERWELL

Caroline Criado-Perez by Phoebe Williams

Caroline Criado-Perez is an author, journalist and activist who has been both threatened and dismissed for what has been perceived as petty, overly feministic campaigns. In reality her work to bring more women into the public eye through media representation, on bank notes and even statues in Parliament Square, is highlighting that women continue to be omitted from society; sometimes at systemic levels. Criado-Perez asks how women can hope to achieve equality if they continue to be invisible.

Joan C. Williams by Kirsty Smith

Joan C. Williams is an American feminist legal scholar and author of a short shelf of books you really need to read. Through her clear prose, she piercingly analyses gender discrimination in the workplace, and provides practical advice on how you can navigate it. As a founder of the Centre for WorkLife Law, she’s tackling policies that show prejudice to women and racial minorities. Her work is a must for anyone who needs a refreshment from ‘girl boss’ slogans.

Rose Cartwright by Amber Haslam

Watching an interview with Rose Cartwright or watching the TV series Pure adapted from her memoir, is a refreshing, moving, and unfamiliar experience. Cartwright writes and talks frankly about her experience with Purely Obsessional OCD in a world that is still hesitant to discuss mental health. Her story, honesty, and open vulnerability are incredibly inspiring. Pure is one of the best things on Netflix, plus she recently cofounded the mental health campaign Made of Millions. Rose Cartwright is a voice to be listened to and celebrated.

OPINION BEING HAIRLESS: WHO ARE WE DOING IT FOR? Kitty Blain

o shave or not to shave? For most women, this isn’t much of a question. Given that more than 99% of American women remove their body hair, it seems that depilation is simply an accepted part of a woman’s beauty routine. It’s a routine where practically all women know the struggles - desperately examining themselves in the mirror to see if anyone could see a stray hair slipping out from their swimming costume, forking out for a salon wax before a holiday, or urgently shaving your armpits with a dry razor despite the pain; in public toilets, festival tents, the PE changing rooms. And yet most women assert that how they style their body hair is their choice - after all, they’re the ones doing it to themselves. They’re the ones spending on average $10,000 on hair removal over the course of their lifetimes. No one’s standing at their sink with a gun and demanding they shave their legs. And I definitely used to agree being hairless was just how I preferred myself to look; it made me feel cleaner, sexier, more confident. But then how can I explain that sin-

A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NUMBER Maddy Ross

hen Grimes and Elon Musk announced the name of their new-born son, the internet went into meltdown. It was more like a piece of performance art than the announcement of a baby name, especially after Musk corrected his bed-bound girlfriend on a typo. X Æ A-12 is not a name that will be legally recognised by the Californian authorities, and the announcement lead to widespread confusion: how do you pronounce it? This might be a stroke of genius on the part of Musk and Grimes. They have managed to turn child -birth into a PR stunt, in the same week as Musk wiped billions off the value of Tesla with a single tweet, while main-

ce lockdown began, I haven’t touched my razor, nor have I felt the need to? Can I justify saying that shaving is a choice ‘for myself’, if I make vastly different decisions about my appearance when no one else can see it? This realisation made me question how far what I thought was my ‘choice’ had actually been enforced upon women like me for generations. The way that female body hair is policed in society means women no longer even question it. We happily accept the time, money and effort spent on hair removal, risking infection, scarring, rashes, ingrown hairs or the crusting, blistering and bruising of the skin, and we never once ask why we are going to such lengths to alter our bodies’ natural state. In her Channel 4 documentary, the women that Chidera Eggerue interviewed described having body hair as “disgusting”, “dirty”, “wrong” and “unnatural”. How has it become so accepted that women should feel so ashamed and afraid of their natural hairiness? Given the shame that surrounds being a hairy woman, it’s understandable that women feel they have to conform to this hairless fantasy. Even adverts for women’s razors don’t show body hair because it is seen as so unattractive, and the first Gillette women’s razor was marketed as necessary to solve “an embarrassing personal problem”. And now the widespread eroticisation of a prepubescent look through pornography has resulted

in women’s hairlessness being expected. In 2017, Swedish model Arvida Byström received death and rape threats for modelling with unshaven legs. Such violent aversion and disgust towards women’s body hair suggests being hairless is not a beauty ideal. Instead, this expectation has become an infringement on women’s autonomy, perpetuating the objectification of women’s bodies by suggesting that the way they are naturally is somehow abnormal or disgusting. The point is, whatever choice women make with their body hair, it’s seen as political. If men are hairy all over, or are completely waxed, no one bats an eyelid - so why is Julia Roberts still asked questions about her unshaven armpits on the red carpet back in 1999? Ultimately, hair removal is a personal choice. But could you say your decisions weren’t shaped by fear of judgement from others or by a sense of shame for not conforming to society’s beauty standards? After feeling just as comfortable, feminine and attractive with body hair throughout lockdown, I don’t think I could.

taining the privacy of their child. Not knowing how to pronounce the name of the baby makes it very difficult for people to talk about the child directly, rather than in very abstract terms. We don’t, even as the meme pages speculate, know how the parents of the child refer to him in family life. It is almost impossible to refer to X Æ A-12 aloud, so we just say the baby. There is an anonymity conferred by ‘the baby’ that adds a layer of privacy and protection. How is this the case? What is it about names that makes them important? Is it j u s t because they give us the ability to talk about people directly, as their own entity, rather than in relation to other things? They denote us as objects separate from anything else. But do they say other things about us – decide things for us, unconsciously influence our personalities? Or are they just markers? Most people don’t have just one ‘name,’ if counting all the different ways to which they are referred. Nicknames, shortening of long names, terms of affection

– they all refer to the same person. A nickname can imply closeness and acceptance – sportspeople often refer to their teammates by nicknames that no one else would use. Terms of affection are similar; they even more generally communicate a sentiment or a relation. Who doesn’t love being referred to as ‘darling’ by a middle-aged woman at a checkout? Across the country, GCSE students have memorised that immortal line: “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” And this might well be true of a rose. But people respond differently to the different names they are known by – mostly because people have different relationships with the people who are referring to them. By giving their son a name that is unpronounceable (do you hear anything in your head when you read X Æ A-12?) Grimes and Musk have made it so the public can refer to him only in terms of his relationship to them, and this gives the child more privacy than many other celebrity children. The meme pages will not stop making a joke of Musk and Grimes, and there’s enough material there to last for several lifetimes. But they can’t infiltrate the private sphere of the new family of three – we don’t know how the parents refer to their son, and maybe that’s how they meant it to be.

CHERWELL

OPINION CA RTOON

WES BECKETT ON...VIRTUAL REALITY

S AT I R E

JOE EXOTIC: THE LOCKDOWN KING Mary Whittingdale

o today started like most – I woke up. I personally think this is always quite a helpful way to start the day. Then I went downstairs, and ‘popped’ the kettle on as they say. Don’t really know how or where the ‘pop’ was – I guess it’s just part of that magical tea-making process. Funny really, I also have no clue who this ‘they’ is – the infamous ‘they’ who say lots of things – ever present and nowhere to be seen... much like God come to think of it. A titillating parallel I know. Took a quick look at the news – wow, Boris has fathered another gorgeous child. My personal favourite part of the entire BBC article was the sentence: “Mr Johnson is known to have fathered five.” Yes, they really went there. Isn’t our country a great one? Never felt prouder to be British. If nothing else, it is comforting to know that our national leader is just as horny as the rest of touch deprived Britain. I’m telling you, there’s some serious sexual tension brewing at the

moment. We must all be prepared for what I can only call a Kris Jenner sized baby boom. Our poor, poor planet; as if things couldn’t get any worse for it. After this frankly unsettlingly image of Boris ‘in the sack,’ I decided to get dressed. I’ll be honest, it took some persuasion. So much effort heaving my sorry pile of bones into the same clothes as yesterday. How did I seriously think I would be productive in a global crisis? Telling myself: “Ah yes, this isn’t too bad, I’ll just read The Great Gatsby and finally apply for that internship I won’t be bothered to do in summer.” What a fool I was, tempting myself with such trivial ideas! I keep getting hobbies, do-

“IT IS COMFORTING TO KNOW THAT OUR NATIONAL LEADER IS JUST AS HORNY AS THE REST OF TOUCH DEPRIVED BRITAIN” ing them for approximately three days and then calling quits. Sorry if this article was meant to be motivational – I think it is fair to say, I won’t be ticking that box today. I shall however be ticking boxes on as many mind-numbing BuzzFeed quizzes as I can get my grubby little mitts on. CHERWELL

Anyway, the most exciting of such hobbies has been knitting. I sit, I knit, I drink my now cold tea. So, I’ve been doing some knitting and even some embroidery whilst reading A Room of One’s Own (the first twenty pages anyway), and hypocritically lulling about happily in the pit of patriarchy pretending that I’m free. In other news, to change the tune of this now quite morbid little article, I recently decided to watch The Tiger King on Netflix – the only hobby to survive my three-day limit. It is both fascinating, hilarious, and deeply disturbing. The characters could not be more perfect. I say ‘characters’ because it’s difficult to remember that these are in fact real people living real lives. Whilst I sit in my room drinking my tea and moping about like a protoplasmic mass of gloop, these people are actually somewhere in the world being actual people. It is quite troubling really when you start to think about it. Troubling and entertaining. So, this week if like me you get that lockdown boredom, it might be of some stimulation to spend just a moment on this revelatory thought. Somewhere out there, in the no man’s land that is the outside world, there is Joe Exotic. Maybe he is sitting drinking tea and reading Cherwell (unlikely, but a girl can dream). Even though he is out of sight, Joe Exotic is actually real. Gets me every time.

FEATURES

CULTS

Blind Faith?

CAITRIONA DOWDEN

n popular media, cults are often the object of morbid curiosity, in the same category as serial killers, celebrity breakdowns, and the scandalous exploits of polygamous big cat enthusiasts. In 2018, Netflix’s Wild Wild Country shocked viewers with the story of the Rajneeshpuram commune, who took over a small town in Oregon in order to pursue their twin passions of meditation and bioterrorism. Many of Louis Theroux’s most-watched documentaries deal with insular and extremist cult-like organisations, including the Westboro Baptist Church, the Church of Scientology, and white supremacist communities in the deep South. Our fascination with cults is partly due to the fact that they are, by definition, closed to outsiders. An advertising campaign launched by the Church of Scientology in 2018 ran the tantalising tagline uninitiated, ‘The only thing more interesting than what you’ve heard is what you haven’t’.

In denying access to their inner workings, cults appeal to our desire to see behind closed doors. These organisations also stand in stark contrast to the values of individualism and liberty that pervade Western capitalist society. In a cult, the individual is subsumed by the collective, voluntarily submitting to the will of a self-appointed authority figure (though coercive and manipulative tactics are often used). They give up personal freedoms, donating their property and wealth to the organisation, and cutting themselves off from family and friends. Perhaps what interests us is the question of what cults might offer in return - what is it that makes the loss of one’s individuality seem like a worthwhile trade-off? It certainly suggests an all-consuming, unshakeable conviction in one’s cause, far exceeding the average person’s most sincerely held political or religious beliefs. Many of the most notorious cults of the last century have secured their place in history through extreme, and often CHERWELL

violent, displays of devotion; the airstrip shootings and mass suicide committed by the People’s Temple Agricultural Project in 1978 constituted the greatest loss of American life until the 9/11 terror attacks of 2001. On the tape recording taken at the final meeting of the commune, Jim Jones can be heard calling his followers to commit revolutionary suicide, framing voluntary, dignified death as the ultimate rejection of capitalism. The ubiquity of the phrase ‘to drink the Kool-Aide’ is a testament to the cultural impact of the Jonestown massacre; it refers to the grape flavoured drink, laced with poison, that the residents were coerced into ingesting. But the People’s Temple were not unique in their act of self-annihilation. In 1997, 39 members of the Heaven’s Gate Cult died in an act of mass suicide, believing it would allow them to board an alien spaceship, and the Solar Templar Cult reached a death toll of 74 in a series of suicides between 1994 and 1997. To an outsider, it is difficult to understand

FEATURES how ordinary people could be convinced to behave in such apparently irrational, self-destructive ways in the name of their beliefs. Religious cults give rise to questions about when a religious movement becomes something more sinister. According to the Pew Research Center’s Forum on Religion & Public Life, 84% of the 2010 world population were religiously affiliated. What is it that sets groups such as the Solar Templar and the Rajneeshpuram commune from the billions of faithful worldwide? Part of the difficulty in drawing a clear distinction is that ‘cult’ is generally used as a pejorative term. It implies that the organisation in question is harmful, either to its members, the outside world, or both, and that it is guilty of coercion and brainwashing. To call a movement a cult is to delegitimise it, suggesting that it is not a respectable religion. Just as those accused of heresy during the Middle Ages did not identify themselves as ‘heretics’, cults rarely seem to regard themselves as such. For instance, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latterday Saints has often been called a cult by critics, whilst members of the faith consider themselves the true inheritors of the Apostolic tradition. It is for this reason that the term ‘New Religious Movement’ is used in academic discourse when referring to faith groups founded during the past few centuries. However, this categorisation doesn’t fully account for the distinction that many will intuitively make between a legitimate religion and what they perceive as a cult. The term includes Heaven’s Gate and Satanism alongside mainstream religious movements such as Conservative Judaism, and various Buddhist groups. So-called cults do have a lot in common with mainstream religion. Most religions call on members to make sacrifices in the name of their faith, be it Catholics abstaining from meat on Fridays, or Muslims fasting during the sunlight hours of Ramadan. People of faith might undergo initiation rituals such as baptism and wear distinguishing clothes to identify themselves as a member of a particular community who all share a single belief system. Monasteries are rarely considered cults, despite the fact that their members give up private property, live in ascetic communes, and devote their entire lives to God. Is it, then, just a matter of degree? The Church of Scientology is criticised for its practice of gathering collateral on its members, requiring them to give up deeply personal information, but Catholics regularly confide in Priests through the sacrament of confession. Perhaps a movement is classed as a cult when it imposes too many rules, becomes too rigidly hierarchical, or requires too much devotion to its leaders. Giving up chocolate for Lent is an act of self-denying sacrifice, as

is committing suicide in order to placate an extra-terrestrial overlord, but one is rather more extreme than the other. The average parishioner might put some money in the collection pot at the Priest’s behest but would probably raise an eyebrow if asked to assassinate a member of Congress. The boundaries become even blurrier when considering the origins of mainstream religions; almost every major religion began as a small community following the teachings of a charismatic leader. Their beliefs were often extreme and self-destructive: early Christianity actively encouraged martyrdom, calling the faithful to rejoice in their gruesome executions rather than renounce Christ. A group that looked anything like Jesus’ disciples in the 21st century would surely be called a cult by outsiders; certainly, the gospels claim that Jesus was considered dangerous by his contemporaries and denounced as a blasphemer by Jewish authorities.

“A group that looked anything like Jesus’ disciples in the 21st century would surely be called a cult by outsiders”

The criteria most commonly used to distinguish religions from cults is the organisation’s methods of recruiting and retaining members. Cults tend to have charismatic leaders, offer a transformative path to self-improvement, and manipulate recruits using tactics such as love-bombing (overwhelming potential members with a friendly and communal atmosphere). The content of a cult’s belief system might be very similar to that of a mainstream religion, but it is the way in which it communicates those beliefs and persuades members to adhere to them that renders cults harmful. These are certainly useful criteria which allow those targeted by dangerous new religious movements to identify them as such. However, it is also worth asking if there is anything in the structure of a movement’s belief system that contributes to the perception that it is a cult, separate from either its specific contents, or the ways in which it imparts its teachings. This is a matter of epistemology. The testimonies of former cult members suggest that many leave, not because they are disturbed by the manipulative recruitment methods, or the restrictive rules and regulations, but because they realise that they cannot justify their belief systems. Megan Phelps-Roper, a former member CHERWELL

of the infamous Westboro Baptist Church, sheds light on this phenomenon. Westboro is best known for its controversial practice of picketing soldier’s funerals, holding inflammatory placards with slogans such as ‘God hates fags’, and ‘America is doomed’. They believe that we should thank God for all of his judgements, including the deaths of soldiers, and atrocities such as 9/11. They fulfil most of the criteria used to identify cults: they were founded by Fred Phelps, who acted as a charismatic leader until his death in 2014, they live communally, and they condemn the outside world. Born into Westboro as the granddaughter of its founder, Megan Phelps-Roper spent most of her life attending the pickets and played an active role in the running of the Church. She personally wrote the lyrics to some of their bizarre pop parodies, adapting Lady Gaga songs to convey homophobic and apocalyptic teachings. She went on to run the Church’s social media, becoming particularly active on Twitter. In her memoir, Unfollow (2019), she explains that it was her activity on Twitter that eventually convinced her to leave Westboro in 2012; In the process of defending the Church’s teachings online, she found herself engaged in debate with users who sincerely wanted to understand where she was coming from and explain to her why they disagreed. She was used to hostility from the outside world – the pickets attracted angry counter-protests and even violent attacks – but the people she met on Twitter made her realise that not everybody who opposed her faith did so out of blind hatred. In a conversation with one user, she learnt that there were different translations of the Bible, she went on to study Hebrew in order to read the text more objectively. She attributes her rejection of the Church to those who compassionately exposed her to the inconsistencies in her beliefs. While acknowledging that the rhetoric of the Westboro Baptist Church is harmful to many, Phelps-Roper is a vehement advocate of free speech. She argues that censoring discourse on social media and in public will prevent people like her from escaping indoctrination. Any attempts to censor the views of the Westboro Baptist Church would only serve to confirm their belief that the outside world is against them. In turn, this would further convince them of their status as the chosen ones: ‘And everyone will hate you because you are my followers’ (Matt 13:13). Megan Phelps-Roper’s account reveals that it is not only the way in which religious movements recruit and retain members that make them cults, but also the structure of their belief systems. In most mainstream religions, knowledge is derived from a variety of sources: scrip-

FEATURES ture, along with scholarly interpretation of it, philosophy, and the decisions of appointed religious leaders, amongst others. For example, the Jewish Talmud records Rabbinical interpretation of the Hebrew Bible, locating authority in the scholarly writings of the learned. Mainstream Christian denominations derive their beliefs from the Bible, but also from the works of the theologians who have interpreted it throughout Church history. Whilst faith plays a significant role in all religious movements, those that could be called ‘moderate’ tend to hold their teachings to a standard of reason and consistency, at the same time acknowledging that not every mystery can be understood. By contrast, the teachings of cult-like movements appear to be legitimised almost entirely through charismatic authority, a term coined by the sociologist Max Weber. A leader, or group of leaders, who claim to be imbued with superior spirituality, purporting to be the sole source of truth. Megan Phelps-Roper describes the increasingly contradictory practices that became more and more difficult to justify biblically. During a potentially ruinous lawsuit, Fred Phelps ordered church members to prostrate themselves and pray for the deaths of those prosecuting them. Whilst this is clearly incompatible with Jesus’ instruction to love your enemies, it became part of the group’s practice because their leader had declared it righteous. In a cult, knowledge is not acquired from scripture, scholarship, or critical reason, but from a charismatic figure who claims to have privileged access to the divine. This is consistent with the tendency of cults to discourage members from questioning their beliefs and their condemnation of the outside world. In her bestselling memoir, Educated (2018), Tara Westover gives a similar account. She tells the story of her upbringing in a cult-like family in rural Idaho,

in which her father acted as the charismatic authority. They were fundamentalist Mormon survivalists, dedicating their lives to apocalypse preparation, converting their money into gold, and stockpiling supplies. They were actively opposed to scientific research as a source of knowledge, refusing to take their children to hospital even when they sustained horrendous injuries at the family junkyard. Westover’s mother acted as an unlicensed midwife in the fundamentalist community, taking up new age healing practices as an alternative to scientific medicine. The children were home schooled, receiving little to no formal education, instead

helping their father with manual labour. Despite these circumstances, Westover was accepted to Brigham Young University. Her memoir is a love letter to education and academia, recounting the effect her studies had on the way she viewed her family’s beliefs. In a psychology class, she realised that her father’s paranoia and erratic behaviour were symptoms of bipolar disorder, shedding light on his obsession with the imminent apocalypse and his fear of the outside world. She was awarded a Gates Scholarship, allowing her to study at Cambridge, where she went on to earn a master’s degree and doctorate in intellectual history. Much as Phelps-Roper came to doubt her extremist beliefs

CHERWELL

by realising that her family’s understanding of the Bible was one amongst many, Westover writes that her interest in historiography was a catalyst for her changing perspective. She began to question the distorted version of history she had learned from her parents and understand the way in which her family had manipulated her own memories of abuse through continuous gaslighting; the idea that there could be opposing interpretations of the past gave her the tools she needed to deconstruct the rigid beliefs she had grown up with. Accounts such as these offer an interesting insight into the structure of cult belief systems. A mainstream Christian might share the belief that Jesus died to save humanity with a member of the Westboro Baptist Church. However, their reason for believing it is likely to be different. In a cult, doctrine takes its authority from those who claim to be spiritually enlightened in some way. Such a leader can make contradictory statements and dismiss any appeals to reason without losing credibility. Megan Phelps-Roper emphasises this in her account of the Church, describing their beliefs as ‘infallible’. But there is still a grey area when it comes to distinguishing cult from religion. All religious belief could be described as infallible to a degree. Religions tend to consider faith a virtue that should be able to withstand doubt, and criticisms of religion often target its tendencies to explain away the inexplicable by positing the unknowable will of a deity. Most religions did rely on charismatic authority in their early days and Scripture is usually considered as revelation, so religious teachings are hardly scientific. However, it is the movements that have engaged with new scholarship and philosophy that have endured over time, and not those that have rejected it. Artwork by Justin Lim

CULCHER

CULCHER EDITORIAL

he first few weeks of term have come with a lot of changes. The novelty of online tutorials, the distance from our friends, the entire upheaval of the exam system we’d been preparing ourselves for: these changes are all pretty unnerving, to say the least. Perhaps the most unnerving of all is the uncertainty that’s come to shroud our student and, indeed, our everyday lives. This uncertainty can have more of an impact on some than others, but I think it would be fair to say that most people’s mental health has been impacted in one way or another. Although Oxford life is notoriously fast-paced, full of twists and turns and everything unexpected, this kind of unexpectedness can (rather counterintuitively) provide us with a sense of stability. We’re not made to live in a stand-still environment, so we often thrive on change and development - just maybe not the kind of change we’re facing at the moment. The uncertain kind. The kind which forces us to sit and wait, unsure of what the future holds, rather than get up and do something we know will have an impact. So how can we look for a sense of stability in all this uncertainty? I’m hoping that those who find their mental states shaken by our new, somewhat precarious lifestyles are finding a way to gain a little clarity in their lives. But whether or not this is the case, I think it’s really important that we as a section show an awareness of the power of culture to provide stability; the ever-changing, exciting platform of artistic expression in the world can be seen as, in some ways, a parallel to the action-packed Oxford life we’re used to. There are always new films to watch, books to read, ideas to take in, and, what’s more, art to create. As every artist from Miley Cyrus to Mac DeMarco adapts to change by livestreaming their work, as libraries find new ways to reach the public online, and as our very own Ashmolean joins other galleries in providing virtual tours of its exhibitions, it is clear that culture is thriving just as much as ever. I believe this can help to anchor us in an unsettling time; by engaging in the growing, changing culture around us and by finding outlets for our own expression, we can find stability within ourselves.

ARTIST’S SPOTLIGHT: IN CONVERSATION WITH STUDENT ARTIST CHARLOTTE BUNNEY How would you describe your work? I work in all kinds of media. I would say I have most experience with watercolours and gouache but I love mixed media, pencils, ink and digital art too. I’m hoping to get some more practise with both oil pastels and chalk pastels again soon. In terms of style I am definitely all over the place or, to be a bit kinder to myself, very flexible. Some pieces are more realistic looking and some more illustrative but I think it’s actually very useful to have a range of styles when working on different projects. Why do you make art? Aside from it being a nice way to relax or to help process whatever might be on my mind, I’ve always really loved the physicality of a final piece. I love being able

would say a big influence on the things I naturally tend to paint would be nature as I do come from the Glorious North! I particularly enjoy painting landscapes and birds in gouache and I am also obsessed with the sea. More and more though I can see classical influences peaking through my work and I’ve got some pretty exciting ideas about how I’m going to develop my mixed media series on waves and the sea based on the Odyssey and some Attic pots I’ve been looking at. What would you like to do with art in the future? Actually, I’m planning on launching a little online shop soon! I hope to sell prints, some originals and other physical objects I make, like sketchbooks. In terms of jobs, I would love to end up doing something creative. I graduate next year (hopefully), if anyone wants to hire me… Do you find it hard to find time to make art as a student? Yes. I’m currently doing two essays a week and elementary Greek so I’m very busy but for me it’s important to do something creative at least once a week. Sometimes when I’m pressed for time I’ll just do some cut and stick poetry or sketch something quickly, but I do really value the process of sitting down with a cup of coffee and Netflix

to hold something and know that I made it (I am also one of those strange people who gets excited about being able to touch fancy watercolour paper). The biggest joy I get from making art though is when I give pieces away to my friends; I’ll always get carried away, making the envelopes and the wrapping paper from scratch too! What influences you? In terms of style, I’m always looking at the work of other artists on Instagram to give me inspiration on techniques, use of colour or even just what I want to paint next. I and just painting for a good few hours. What advice would you give to other artists looking to do something similar to you? Honestly just keep practising if you enjoy it. Mistakes are going to happen (something that took a little while to accept) but the skills will come! If you’re comfortable doing it, I enjoy posting my work on Instagram and getting some feedback to keep me encouraged. Follow Charlotte on Instagram @ artssoliloquies

Kaira Mediratta, Trudy Ross, and Sofia Henderson CHERWELL

CULCHER

YOUNG REMBRANDT:

THE ASHMOLEAN SURVEYS

THE MAKING OF A MASTER BY JOSIE MOIR

he name “Rembrandt” is one entrenched in tradition, status, and artistic study. A true Old Master at the heart of the Dutch Golden Age, and undoubtedly one of the greatest artists of all time, his works may seem inaccessible to those of us unversed in art history or practice. Yet as the recent Young Rembrandt exhibition at Oxford’s Ashmolean Museum shows us, the profound opposite is true. Forced to close their doors a mere three weeks after the unveiling, the museum and curators have taken it upon themselves to transfer the exhibition from physical to virtual. Via their website and a recent BBC documentary with expert Simon Schama, visitors from around the world can gain insight into the earliest works in Rembrandt’s career as a qualified painter. Spanning a ten-year journey, the same amount of time taken to prepare the exhibition, the curation presents a surprisingly heartfelt and inspiring story; from the reality of 1624’s young Rembrandt van Rijn, a struggling, unknown artist, we are led through his trials and failures on the way to becoming the Rembrandt of 1634, a growing commercial and cultural success on his way to mastery. Showcasing these early struggles and shortcomings throughout, the exhibition cuts to the core of Rembrandt’s work: as Schama puts it, “his instinct for common humanity.” On a practical level, interacting with the online exhibition feels a little distant at first. Viewing artistic works in real life offers a chance to feel the atmosphere they create and see the textures and colours come to life beyond how they appear in prints or photographs. Though this may feel lacking at first, this downside of the virtual tour fades away with ease as we set off on Rembrandt’s journey: the careful layout of the selected paintings, sketches, etchings, and more, alongside the accessibly phrased accompanying explanations, takes us through the variety of material with refreshing clarity. Simple yet engaging passages tell us that, though to the amateur eye, such early paintings as the bold and colourful A Peddler Selling Spectacles (1624) seem perfectly pleasant to look at, on closer inspection the anatomy, perspective, and general technique are perhaps a little clumsy. The practical focus on explaining Rembrandt’s etching process, sketching style and compositional experimentation make this exhibition feel accessible to all and helps bring the pieces to life as we come to better understand them. From the very beginning, we can sense the humble, dedicated young man CHERWELL

THE ARTIST’S FORMATIVE YEARS IN THIS, NOW VIRTUAL, EXHIBITION

behind the artwork, even without being physically present. Moving through this chronological timeline, we are shown how Rembrandt’s artistic influences had a profound effect on his rapidly improving style. A lovely comparison of the first and second plates of the etching, Descent from the Cross and his Christ before Pilate (1633) highlights to visitors Rembrandt’s persistency, but also how his style evolved thanks to those around him – his collaborator at the time, Jan Van Vliet, helped perfect the plates. This breadth of context not only aids understanding of Rembrandt’s development but is also a reminder of how important human connection and exchange was for his artistic improvement - a particularly welcome

“FROM THE VERY BEGINNING, WE CAN SENSE THE HUMBLE, DEDICATED YOUNG MAN BEHIND THE ARTWORK, EVEN WITHOUT BEING PHYSICALLY PRESENT TO SEE IT.” thread of the exhibition in our current time of separation. The wider storytelling gives us all the chance to connect and take real inspiration from such an overwhelmingly human journey to success. Looking from even the earliest paintings on display, that emotional sensitivity lays the foundation: the anatomy may not be exact, the perspective a little off, but depth of feeling and drama is clear in every piece of work. Schama’s documentary tour offers additional insight into some of the artworks as curated in the museum, from the complex moral tension in Tobit Accusing Anna of Stealing the Kid (1626), to the raw emotion and fierce empathy depicted in his acclaimed Judas Repentant Returning the Pieces of Silver (1629). Dramatic emotions are conjured by dark lighting, mirrored in the exhibition’s physical layout, and develop through his Biblical commissions, portraiture, and striking etchings into the trademark Rembrandt style. His work is boundless in its display of sympathy for his subjects: the wistfulness of old age, the physicality of the female form, the mortality of Christ, the coarseness of the common beggar. All this is etched raw into Rembrandt’s works without falsity or idealisation. His fame and renown become at once understandable by the end of this exhibition, with its show of dedication, growth, and most importantly human empathy. In this period of external crisis, taking time to explore this moving display was a pleasure, no matter the format. By putting in the effort to curate this exhibition online, the Ashmolean allowed people from all over, expert or amateur, to experience one of the greatest artists coming to life. In doing so, they embody that ever-present spirit of Rembrandt’s works: common humanity. 20

CULCHER

FASHION

MET GALA 2020: KEEPING THE SPIRIT ALIVE WITH ALEXA CHUNG

each year, Anna Wintour. Lim also shares in the nerves behind “the most anxiety-ridden red carpet” that makes the Gala such a formidable event, as at the top of the long stairway each attendee must climb there awaits the fearful risk of embarrassing oneself in front of the Vogue Editor-in-Chief, or indeed Oprah Winfrey, as Chung discovered the hard way. The Met is notoriously exclusive, as phones are banned from the event and it is one of the very few events where stars must leave publicists and agents at the gates. It is therefore a delight to learn that the party is ever in the bathroom, the “hotspot, nucleus of the night”, and that the elusive Gala is really “high school amplified to the nth degree” where “everyone goes buck wild and does crazy s***”. Chung has given a fascinating window into the genesis of a Met look before on her increasingly successful channel, chronicling the creation process of the 70s-inspired mini-dress she wore and designed last year, a video which, along with this serious, evokes an appreciation of the care and art that lies behind the glamour that amazes each year. For all those who are feeling the pain of being Gala-deprived, the series provides a reminder of the joyful celebration of fashion and extravagance that we can look forward to revelling in once we are on the other side.

Joe Stonor

or the true aficionado, awaiting eagerly their night amongst fashion’s aristocracy in a New York gallery, the indefinite postponement of this year’s Met Gala is an unthinkable disaster. All the pent-up excitement and anxiety that accompanies the tireless preparation of an ambitious piece or daring look has amounted to no great night of Bacchanalian excess and dazzling colour, but has been left instead to dissipate. No adulation from paparazzi or earnest Vogue columnists awaits these phantom dresses and dinner jackets, but only the noiseless appreciation of a lonely mirror. Yet, for such mournful high-fashion celebrities, and for those who just like looking at them, some kind of solace has been provided by the improvisation of Alexa Chung. The fixture of a decade worth of Galas released a mini-series on her YouTube channel this week, providing an insider’s knowledge of what really goes on at the “Oscars of fashion”. Entitled ‘Tales from the Met Gala’, Chung released three videos on Wednesday exactly a year since the last Gala, and two days after this year’s was scheduled to unfold. The varied tales that emerge from the videos come through conversations with three designers whom Chung has worn in the past, and therefore accompanied on the night. What start as interviews quickly develop into informal chats, gossiping about the impossible range of stars that are invariably present each year and offering a behind the scenes window into the process of producing an outfit worthy of so illustrious an occasion. An air of glamour that keeps the spirit of the Gala alive is given not least thanks to the names who appear with Chung, as she is joined by Erdem, Christopher Kane and Philip Lim. Present too is Chung’s own effortless style: dressed in a different look for each video, she belies the lethargy of lockdown, including a particularly lively tulle rose shirt. With Erdem, Chung looks back over the deep fuchsia ankle-cut dress that she wore in 2015, sharing pictures of the fittings and pausing over the importance of small details such as the inclusion of pockets, crucial for giving an impression of informality on a night of haute couture. The idea that the Met is an epicentre of wild and baffling celebrity activity is added to by the remarkable reminiscence

of the night in which Debbie Harry and Kanye West performed at the same time from opposite ends of the same hall, and the memory of Rihanna stomping down tables lined by the A-list whilst singing “B**** Better Have My Money”. The sheer glittery mini-dress that Kane designed for Chung won the model best dressed, an especially incredible achievement on a night of “death or glory” stakes. The joy of this series is that is humanisesan event that appears so unattainable and opulent as to be entirely unreachable, the domain of a hardly-human elite. This insight is provided by the charming candour of Kane. Amongst his highlights included the moment when, upon first arriving at the event, he was stupefied by stage fright as he encountered David Bowie at the neighbouring urinal. Chung and Kane also discuss the thrill of nervous energy that distinguish the event. Kane’s answer to being “so goddamn nervous” is Dutch courage, although a consequence of such self-medication is an excessive champagne consumption that may lead you inexplicably to embarrass yourself in front of Amal Clooney and make for a particularly blurry-eyed morning. Lim designed the outfit Chung wore in her first appearance at the Gala, a rebellious “men’s-wearish inspired suit” that played into Chung’s tomboy reputation and needed an extended consultation before being permitted to appear by the guardian of all standards, the event’s host CHERWELL

CULCHER

STAGE A ‘CLEAN BREAK’ FROM CRIME? E L L I E H ABY R RJAMES I N G T O ALLEN N I N V E S T I G AT E S T H E P OW E R O F T H E AT R E T O TRANSFORM THE LIVES O F I M P R I S O N E D WO M E N.

fter mastering the downward facing dog-chaturanga-upward facing dog transition, my isolation development peaked and it was time to do some work. I watched the Donmar Trilogy’s production of Shakespeare’s Henry IV, directed by Phyllida Lloyd. The trilogy was created with Clean Break, a theatre company who work with women who have been in - or are at risk of entering – prison. All three plays were set in prisons with the all-female casts transforming Shakespeare’s classics into explorations of vulnerability, gang-violence, addiction and power. Clean Break was set up in 1977 by two inmates in the high-security wing of Durham prison: Jenny Hicks and Jackie Holborough. Later, they formed a troupe with 19 fellow prisoners, becoming the first British prisoners to perform outside prison. However, they were forced to perform under the condition that they wouldn’t advertise the fact that they were prisoners. Hicks and Holborough pursued the company after their release, offering a support group and skill development. They now proudly advertise themselves as a “a women’s theatre company changing lives and changing minds – on stage, in prison and in the community”. The scheme is unapologetic. Henry IV opened at the Donmar Warehouse in 2014 with Harriet Walter in the title role and Clare Dunne as Hal, who in this version is an inmate struggling with addiction. The cast are escorted into the chain link enclosure where the audience await. Audience and inmates are now locked up together: equals. The scene is set for Hal’s words to haunt the corridors of the prison: “Yet herein will I imitate the sun,

Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world, That, when he please again to be himself, Being wanted, he may be more wonder’d at, By breaking through the foul and ugly mists Of vapours that did seem to strangle him” (I.ii) His promise to change when time demands it could just as easily be spoken by a prisoner as a prince. This promise to break ‘through the foul and ugly mists’ feels unsettlingly empty when confronted with the statistic that 48% of prisoners re-offend within a year of being released. When this is compared to the 5% of Clean Break members who re-offend, the value of their work can start to be more fully appreciated. Their work fits into a wider focus on the relationship between arts and rehabilitation which has grown recently, through social enterprises like Gareth Malone’s Aylesbury prison choir, asking age old questions about the purpose of prisons. Is our criminal justice system failing some of the most vulnerable in society? It’s easy (and often more comfortable) to judge those in the criminal justice system and discard them. Listen to just one of the songs written and sung by one of the Aylesbury inmates, or one of the monologues written by 40 members and associates of Clean Break, and this kind of condemnation becomes rightfully

impossible. I keep coming back to the fragility of the arts in our state education system when thinking about this. Schools are struggling increasingly to cover basic financial costs to the point where serious curriculum cuts have to be made - my school had stopped offering the drama GCSE by the time I was in year 11 and the lower school got a patchy stint of drama as one of the PSHCE rotations. When forced to choose one or the other, the formal, academic-style education wins time and time again. The situation is complex, but I wonder whether the enormity of what is lost is really realised. One of Clean Break’s members gives the stakes some perspective: “theatre education is about breaking down barriers, building self-confidence and giving women self-belief”. This is by no means exclusive to girls but countless women I know would benefit from breaking down barriers and having more self-confidence and self-belief. The influence of creativity seems drastically underestimated. Theatre is hardly a magic wand that transforms lives with a wave, but it offers a lifeline. It offers a chance to explore the self in relation to the world and opens up a network of support that many haven’t ever experienced before. After all, if all the world’s a stage then no one should be denied their role. Full article available online.

Harriet Walter as King Henry in Henry IV. Image by Helen Maybanks. CHERWELL

CULCHER

FILM AND TV

A PHENOMENOLOGY OF LOST CINEMAS BY MARTINA BANI

he day before my birthday, I nostalgically fathomed that I didn’t know when I could return to the MOLT, the cinema auditorium at St Anne’s College where Film Aesthetics students spend afternoons relishing screenings and unpredictable heating. That in this quarantine of grief a film student would also mourn the closure of cinemas should not have come as a surprise. A more subtle, unanticipated chord was struck instead by many non-cinephile friends reminiscing, missing, and even dreaming about going to the movies. A collective phenomenology of the lost cinemas started to claim irrefutable urgency. As soon as I launched my little survey I was submerged by a cluster of familiar, yet unexpected voices invoking cinema’s place as an institution of empathetic sensibility, an aesthetic panacea, and a precise landmark in their social geographies of feelings. “It’s like being on a plane; you’re locked in for a certain amount of time away from the world. You succumb to it fully,” wrote C. Perhaps, in the neurosis of multitasking, cinemas do reconfigure themselves as sites of healthy suspension. But behind the passivity that cinematic immersion seems bathed in, lies a commitment to the unfolding moment, a presentness, embracing of the cinematic flow. Indeed, most interviewees took pains to punctuate all the ritualistic movie-going steps from “vacating my own environment” to entering another realm, as J. puts it. Driving long ways in anticipation, liturgical walks, rushing through shortcuts delusionally taken to be only theirs, secret. Ticket checks, excited smiles. Tearing the velvety veil onto the magnifying darkness. The smell of popcorn. The infamous search for the seating. Lights out, world gone. “I love that moment, like I’m about to go on a ride.” Freed from the entrapment of notifications, “as the cinema stories fly high” D. and N. make me smile with their fittingly juvenile emotionality. Larger-than-life, the engrossing physicality of the moving image enraptures,

making one abdicate themselves: a sacrifice in the name of the mystique of wonder. “Cinema began in wonder,” Sontag writes, recalling the faces of the first audiences erupting in stupor while watching the Lumiere brothers’ The Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat Station. Indeed “all of cinema is an attempt to perpetuate and to reinvent that sense of wonder”. It then becomes easy to sympathise with D., who during oppressing times went every Sunday to the cinema “because real life wasn’t enough”. Faith in cinematic wonder is a strange kind of faith, demanding disciples to abide by a sole, strict requirement: opening up to your feelings, and to strangers. Running the risk of an underwhelming film, or an annoying neighbour. It’s the only faith that doesn’t promise you any sacred land, but asks you to be a sensitive, appreciative traveller. The creed unravels through visual meditations, reimagining temporal and spatial coordinates. The experience of contemplation becomes equal and, at times, superior to its object. “Whether I do or do not understand the film, ‘the eye licks it all up instantaneously’ all the same,” S. remarks, quoting Woolf’s essay on cinema. Aesthetic solace is also to be found in observing the observing: G. loves how the film speaks to the space of the dark theatre, the relationships that it creates with the audience and between the viewers viewing. In doing so, the audience becomes part of the sublime: “You didn’t write the film. But [...] you contribute to the story that we’re

CHERWELL

telling because suddenly when you hear this song, it’s your emotions, it’s your sensibility [...] you become a writer of the film and we’re writing it together”, recounts director Xavier Dolan. Hence, it is no mystery that philosopher Stanley Cavell titled the first chapter of his systematic study of film “An Autobiography of Companions”. In his introductory enquiry on the consciousness of film experience Cavell elevates empathetic engagement as a psycho-social condition inscribed in the very metaphysics of the filmic medium. Intentional and embodied sharing of intimacy makes the external forms of life on the screen personal, and the personal reactions external. A sense of community. “I’m at one with the audience,” all my friends have reported. Seen this way, the film theatre experience becomes the aesthetic offspring of the Ancient Greek storgé, the instinctive familial affection, but voluntarily gifted to strangers. But families need not be only metaphorical. Indeed, for P., going to the movies elicits childhood memories of joyful family gatherings, reunited for the occasion. He also writes, somewhat furtively, “Now I bring to the cinema only ‘serious’ dates.” I can’t help but wonder whether he uses film theatres to see if his date would fit his picture of affective happiness. As for me, in the museum of loved paraphernalia, cinemas would not be an object. They would be the museum itself.

MUSIC

CULCHER

NOW THAT’S WHAT I CALL ...POETRY?

CALUM TAYLOR NAVIGATES THE TENSION BETWEEN LYRICS AND LITERATURE

omebody once told me there are a lot of bad song lyrics out there. Imagine, for every subtle, elegant song you hear, there’s bound to be a hundred clumsy ones that, sadly, are never gonna say goodbye. Some will try to fix you; others will continue to bless the rains. If anyone asks if we’re human or if we’re dancer, they don’t deserve an answer. Such, it seems, is the state of popular music: trite, sentimental, trivial. True, everyone might have a song in them, but that, in most cases, is where it should stay… Complaints like this are common. It’s far too easy to do. The issue is that it gets you nowhere. For the most part, popular music never claimed to be poetry, nor does it need to be. For most people, its joy comes from rhythm, melody, stirring vocals; its value, from feeling, memory, raw emotion. What’s more, you can find clumsy writing everywhere, from tabloids to tweets to romance novels. Why should it be any different here? With pop lyrics, I guess, it’s more noticeable. They’re everywhere, and

PLAY LIST

you can’t escape. But if you are approaching The Beatles expecting Blake, you’ll be disappointed. If you search for Milton in Morrissey, Keats in Kate Bush, Coleridge in The Cure, you will be searching forever. That said, anyone who bemoans our apparent morass of insipid lyricism really ought to readjust their focus. The strength of a chain might be in its weakest link, but it is surely the opposite with art. We ought to praise artforms on the merits of their finest examples, not their most glaringly awful ones—and that, I think, is where we are at now with these lyrics. In recent years, there’s been a growing shift towards allowing certain pop lyrics through the pearly gates of literature. The past few years alone have seen the illustrious Faber and Faber publish, among others, the lyrics of Lou Reed, Kate Bush, and Neil Tennant. Even Shaun Ryder has been granted entry. And while this might twist the melons of some high-brow purists, song lyrics as a form are now much harder for them to ignore. When Bob Dylan was awarded the 2016 Nobel Prize for Literature, the Swedish Academy seemed, in essence, to canonize this tradition, a previously undermined outlet for literary expression. And certainly, ranging from Joni Mitchell to Joy Division, there are so many songs worthy of recognition and praise. But the history book on the shelf is always repeating itself. Throughout time, music and poetry—both, in origin, oral traditions—have been tangled up together. From Ancient Greek lyre-accompanied recitations to the countless songs in Shakespeare’s plays, the two arts share a rich past. Don’t forget, the word ‘lyric’ comes from the ‘lyre’,

the musical instrument itself. We hardly have to scratch the surface of our own literature before we see the omnipresence of music, in Middle English lyrics, folk ballads, Auden’s libretti, the songs of Burns, Blake, and Paul Muldoon… a long and winding list. It is perhaps only when the written page became the perceived ‘home’ of literature that their two paths appeared to diverge. Then, if the distinction between pop lyrics and ‘literature’—low-brow and highbrow—is essentially a fallacy, why has it taken the wider literary establishment so long to accept it? There are many reasons, not least because of how relatively recent the form (as we know it) is. Issues as far ranging as perpetuating poetic faults (cliché, overuse of rhyme), depreciating the worth of poetry by effectively equating the two forms, even corporate interests come into play. But for me, the most vital part of all of this is remembering the simple fact that these words exist within music. Reading Nick Cave’s Complete Lyrics will only ever be a secondary supplement to the songs themselves. As Bob Dylan articulately grumbles in his Nobel lecture, ‘songs are unlike literature’ in that they’re ‘meant to be sung, not read’. Being tied to music, they are simultaneously limited by the temporal and generic constraints of song, and also unlimited in the boundless potential of the two media, playing off each other. While it’s important for us to conserve the esteemed literature of the past, it’s equally important to welcome new forms into the so-called ‘canon’. And with the lyrics of popular music, we enter an intriguing situation. After all, song lyrics are for so many people their most immediate access to any kind of poetic expression, and while they will never be able to replace the nuance and formal delight of poetry, they can at least accompany them, as yet another platform for beauty. There are many bad song lyrics, yes. But remember, there are good ones too, worth our appreciation: shooting stars that break the mould. Check out Calum’s playlist, the canonization, on Cherwell Spotify (@cherwellmusic). Illustration by Isobel Falk

BOTH SIDES NOW

TIME

FAST CAR

AFTER HOURS

JONI MITCHELL

TOM WAITS

TRACY CHAPMAN

THE VELVET

CHERWELL

CULCHER

BOOKS

N O I T A L S N A R T N I T S LO

onsider the translation of a single word. If there is an equivalent word (in literal meaning) in the target language, the translator will likely lose a number of other dimensions of the original: cultural connotations, the association to similar sounding words, cadence, double meanings, and so on. Now consider a single sentence: the translator may tinker around to come up with a sentence that preserves as much of the literal meaning or that has an equivalent figurative meaning (such as a similar idiom in the target language) but which greatly differs in length or sound. Translating poetry is pandemonium! The preservation of images, register, sound, syllables, and rhyme are in competition with one another and the translator must prioritise as they see fit, according to what they believe would have

FRIDAY FAVOURITE: Amantes de cartón by Hugo Ortega

mid national and global chaos, Hugo Ortega’s new book of poetry Amantes de cartón (Cardboard Lovers) is a powerful exploration of love, memory, and patriotism in the 21st century – especially since the Chilean protests from 2019, which highlight the country’s human rights abuses and rising inequality. Although the book is a collection of love poetry, it is impossible to ignore the ‘estallido social’ effect on Ortega’s poetry - which roughly translates to ‘civil unrest.’ Hugo Ortega has the rare gift of being able to move between big and small, and it is here where the magic of Amantes de cartón lies. Politics is never forgotten the reader gets a strong sense of its effect on the nation and on the poet - but the collection is also a meditation on love and lovelessness, on moving from lovers to strangers, and on the simple yet lasting impressions that these experiences evoke. Amelia Horn

LI LY PA RM AR RE FL EC TS O N TH E CO M PL EX IT IE S O F ADAP TI N G W O RK S TO DI FF ER EN T LA N GU AG ES been more important to the author and their own capacity to work in the language. The phenomenon only expands as we consider the entire text: the accurate translation of one word or one sentence is not necessarily conducive to the best translation of the work as a whole, and we see the dynamic between language and text - repeated words as motifs, different registers, images, (rhyme!) - as it disintegrates through translation. The case feels less momentous when the author of the text is alive at the time of translation. This dialogue between author and translator can then take place in real time and the author can have more of a say in how their work is delivered into another culture. The Japanese author Haruki Murakami, who himself has translated American texts into Japanese, elects for his translators to transpose cultural references into the target language, that is, to aim to structure the reader’s experience around associations that they already know. There is, of course, a great virtue to the author’s sovereignity over translation techniques: ‘When a literary world that I have created is transposed into another linguistic system,’ Murakami wrote of this, ‘I feel as if I have been able to dissociate me from myself, which gives me a good deal of peace.’ This “Murakami phenomenon” of translatability and a great deal of talent have led to the author’s work being translated into over 50 languages and reaching a hugely international readership, sure, but it is worth remembering that in some degree these are different books that are being read, and perhaps some singularity should always be reserved for the original Japanese version. Sometimes authors translate their own work, where the roles of the author and translation strategist, superimposed, sharpen our focus on the CHERWELL

author’s original, pre-verbal, sentiment or tone. When the author is no longer alive or is unknown, the responsibilities and nature of translation may differ greatly. Literary translators then occupy an important role in shaping, opening up - sometimes, modernising - the text’s legacy and enter a transtemporal dialogue with the author. The translation can often be greatly influenced by the translator’s “relationship” with the author: how they feel the words were intended to be read, by their study, in some cases politics, the input of families, perhaps, adjustments made necessary under censors or by untransferable conventions in the target language. The posthumous literary translation is then decidedly a version to do justice to our own understanding of a foreign text which can otherwise be so utterly and haphazardly shaped by the edition or translation that we picked up in Oxfam. It is a wonderful thing: how much closer we get to understanding a language, perhaps an author, and certainly the heart of a text if we superimpose the nuances in different translations, all different studied versions and interpretations. Or we may wish to divorce the author and the text fully, likewise the translation from the translator, and so on, but then we would see even more that the translation is not a shadow of the original but a relative: that the essence of the literary text is not solely its history and its genesis but its future in what it can become to readers. In any case, be wary of me. Most of the quotations I used in this article are translated, perhaps consult the translator of the IKEA instruction leaflets for a less idealistic response. Illustration by Phoebe White

T H E S OU R C E

Nature is sacred. From industrialisation to environmental crisis, poets plead for her protection. Curated by Mimi Pattinson

What follows is an apology Katie Schutte

You must forgive us. Some of us lived in denial, but others of us tried – and failed. Mother said it was different back then; we didn’t know, didn’t understand… but her lips trembled, and her voice was like frosted glass. Now you trace ash-trodden footsteps and wonder where it was we faltered and went adrift into pathless territory, like rayless stars. Please forgive us. Some of us prayed on doorsteps, in gardens, the classroom, the cliff-edge, whilst others spun fairy tales of eternal-economic-growth. Empty words. They said ‘net zero’ by 2050, food waste halved by 2030, 12% woodland cover by 2060. They called us dramatic, deluded, deceived, Unplugged. But this is our legacy: More plastic than fish in the sea. More fluorescent shop-light than star-light. And more ocean microplastic than all the stars in the Milky Way. There’s no quick-fix solution. You already know this. You say what kind of person ____? You say What kind of generation ____? You say What kind of society ____? And we say it was different back then.

wintercaerig Rosa Chalfen

i would have shown you the meadow today; frost turned the grass to wastes of grey

made its blades stand sentinel and straight, made the lock stick on the kissing gate

SIMONE, WHOSE HAIR IS THE WORLD Edward McLaren

Once was a girl who so long lying slept Into the pastures, and the roots beneath,

made the sky melt in a sea of pink and gentle blue, that made me think

Her hair extended and became one with them

of skin pigment and childhood sleep; of circles rippling on a creek;

Her golden plumage shivered to a mane

In its way.

That grew the stalks and limbs of flowers and trees, And mired the rivers and oceans with its weeds,

even the oxbow lake froze, hard, a sheen of broken mirror shard;

And scantily drew the fire-tufts of the arctic.

Where now it lasts there nestles a bird, or fox, even the swans seemed confused, seem to lose

And berries loom; yet, should Simone asleep Be found, and stirred, by a single man awake Shall not she cease to live in that manâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s mind,

that elegance of the neck, the spinethe chapel bells chimed nine

as i left; i thought perhaps their hands had frozen over, time elapsed;

i would have shown you this, and more; i would have, but i did not, for

it was only the care of a winter day, yes; only care of winter; only wastes of grey.

Illustrations by Charlotte Bunney

And grow her hair from him into his works?

LIFE

YOU ARE NOT ALONE: WHAT GETTING RUN OVER BY A BUS TAUGHT ME ABOUT MYSELF AND OXFORD BY ELIZABETH BIRCHAM

t’s been an odd year for everyone. Few could have predicted that Hilary would end in such a dramatic fashion, and certainly not myself, for whom Michaelmas ended almost as spectacularly. I’ll set the scene; it was late November, and I was cycling over Magdalen Bridge when I was knocked off my bike by a double decker bus – a huge, purple, park and ride beast of a thing – and there was a delay of 2 seconds before I realised it had taken about half of my right foot with it. Minutes before I’d been worrying about whether I’d finish my reading in time to get to Fuzzy Ducks Friday, and now I was clutching my foot and screaming in the middle of the road like an extra in Casualty. It probably felt less dramatic than it looked. As I was whisked off to the JR in an ambulance, I was still worrying about whether I’d make the Wadham Christmas dinner, assuming that they’d wrap me up in a cast and send me home that day. Don’t get me wrong – the pain was awful – but I’d never heard of a degloving injury (do NOT google if you’re eating), let alone what the recovery entailed. What it did entail, as I found out, was weeks in hospital, 3 surgeries to get my foot looking anything like a foot again and a Hilary spent almost entirely on crutches and going back and forwards to the JR (largely

thanks to breaking 5 bones in my foot. Fun fact - around 75% of patients who break their heel are male. This is because they break under impact, something more likely when engaging in risky behaviour). As a friend so astutely noted, my mean-girls Santa costume of the bop before had been the perfect foreshadowing; my life and that of Regina George had never seen such communion, a feat for any plain and spotty teenager like myself.

“YOU COPE NOT BECAUSE IT’S INSPIRATIONAL, BUT BECAUSE THERE’S NO ALTERNATIVE.” A few things I learnt during this bizarre time: The NHS were amazing. College was amazing. Friends were amazing (although I appreciate the visibility of my difficulty was a privilege). My college provided me with academic taxis and a hardship bursary as I had been unable to work over the vac, and I promised myself never to doubt that I had friends again (doing otherwise would be an insult to the calories they burned CHERWELL

hiking up Headington Hill). The NHS went above and beyond, even transferring me to another hospital to receive more expensive treatment that would save me from the worst of the disfigurement. I was also given a trauma psychologist that I can see, for free, for the rest of my life. Of course, the funding problem was never far away; I had to receive a blood transfusion because of the blood I lost waiting for surgery; I spent an extra week in hospital waiting for a bed to become available at the next, and the wait times in the fracture clinic were often upwards of two hours. It was very surreal watching those responsible be voted back in from my hospital bed. Despite this, the NHS remains just about effective in most emergencies like mine. When it works, it is our most precious asset – but it will reach a point, perhaps during this crisis, where it is not able to attend to every life-threatening situation. We must defend it with everything we have. Walking is incredibly convenient. This is particularly true in Oxford which is near impossible to navigate on crutches unless you shovel a load of money into Royal Cars (spoiler – I did). There were some frustrating moments – I was told the lift to my college library was down until summer; I realised that getting to the lift in

LIFE the Bodleian required going down a flight of stairs (?!) and that the traffic problem around the JR can make it a 3 hour round trip from Iffley for a 20 minute appointment. I was exhausted, and I can’t begin to appreciate the stress of doing it full time – it was a reminder to stop passively tolerating the inaccessibility of Oxford just because it doesn’t (usually) affect me. You do not have to justify how you feel. I was extremely fortunate that only my foot was crushed, and I likely avoided below-the-knee amputation by a matter of inches. This was not always a comfort. In the beginning I felt trapped in a cycle of resenting the situation, reminding myself how lucky I was and then ruminating about what could have happened. I often felt guilty that I was so fortunate. I got myself out of these ruts by remembering that I had not lost sympathy for friends struggling with essays and job applications, so it was likewise unlikely that anyone would deny my right to be upset just because I was luckier than others. Furthermore, as Hilary wore on and the normal stresses of Oxford life returned, they did not feel less trivial just because of the trauma I’d experienced.

Similarly, worrying about taking exams online or missing your friends during the pandemic does not mean that you are ignorant of those suffering more acutely; guilt is pointless if it is directed at things you are powerless to change. And finally, you are much stronger than you think you are. I wouldn’t have regarded myself as good at “coping” with things – I’m often found crying in the library over an essay – and it has been bizarre to have people commend me on my strength of character during this. I’ve wondered whether this is because people think they couldn’t have managed themselves. The truth is, you just do. You cope not because it’s inspirational or comment worthy, but because there’s no alternative and it eventually gets boring to do anything other than get on with your normal life, even if it does involve spending an entire night in Fever on crutches. Many of us may face difficult times ahead due to COVID-19. Whilst my experience is in no way comparable, and there is absolutely no shame in struggling to cope, you may find

SOCIAL MEDIA ROUND-UP

that your capacity to do so is far beyond what you expected. Whilst “There is a Light that Never Goes Out” will never hit the same, my reign as Wadham’s Regina George is almost over. Jokes aside, I want to say thanks to anyone who has helped, from the strangers who rang the ambulance and sat with me until it came, to the friend who rescued me from a bop mosh pit when the response to “baby shark” was just that bit too enthusiastic. I really am so grateful. And if you take one thing from this article, please cycle responsibly. For many students, cycling here is our first time using the road. Our lifestyles involve rushing around from A to B, and there is a culture of complacency towards wearing helmets. Remember that you are not invincible. What happened to me could happen to anyone, and it is so much better to be 10 minutes late than to be injured, or worse. My first thought when I got hit was “I’m not wearing a helmet” – please don’t let that be yours. Until we can ride the roads again, and after, keep safe. Illustration by Francesca Nava

People in my village keep judging me. I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong. It seems to be that people object to the fact that when I go for my run I strap a speaker to my back pack and blast out ‘Can’t Touch This’ by MC Hammer outside the village shop. They look at me with such disdain but I don’t see what the issue is, it’s not forbidden or anything. My Catholic grandma suggested I sacrifice a loo roll to the spirit of the lockdown to cleanse me but I really can’t spare one. Help! What should I do? Right, a lot to unpack here. Sorry, but are you David Walliams biking across the country in aid of Comic Relief? There’s absolutely no need for you to tether a speaker to your back, unless running the marathon for charity or taking part in some sort of town parade (yes, I was a majorette in my youth – take me back to those pole-twiddling days). You’re bringing shame on yourself and your family. People talk in villages– before you know it, every time you pop to the post office you’ll be the subject of cruel hushed rumours: ‘That’s Jane’s daughter– you know Jane, with the leg– found up the duck pond the other week with Sue’s boy.’ And then, at the Christmas fete, you start getting paranoid, feeling the eyes of all mothers and primary school children following you as you try to browse the homemade baubles with a feigned nonchalance. And then, and THEN, at a summer barbeque, your Dad will be approached by Sue, asking the intentions of his daughter, and how many people she’s cheated on her baby boy with. That’s what will happen... I imagine... The point is, do yourself a favour and cut the besides (although, MC Hammer is a real groovy track I grant you). But don’t give away a loo roll for Christ’s sake – surely it will do anything but cleanse you, if you think about it? CHERWELL

LIFE Trudy English Univ

CHERPSE

Will Physics St. Hilda’s

Taking you back to the glorious days of Chatroulette, Cherwell Virtual Blind Dates is bringing love to your computer screen. Introducing Trudy and Will...

First impressions? Once we got over the initial awkwardness of actually being on a virtual date, I thought he seemed like a lovely guy (despite mild Tory vibes). Did it meet your expectations? For sure, I was expecting it to be painfully awkward but we actually had a nice chat and it was refreshing to talk to someone outside my usual Zoom/FaceTime bubble. What was the highlight? Reminiscing about our favourite Oxford club nights and imagining the Trinity that would have been (RIP).

First impressions? Her fashionably late entrance left me worrying I had been stood up on a zoom date - that would have been a new lockdown low. But on arrival she came across as very friendly and wasn’t too awkward about it being a virtual date. Did it meet your expectations? Yes, far exceeded them actually. Lasted way past the designated 40mins, which I think for a zoom date is a sizeable win. Was nice to have someone new to bitch about corona to, also. What was the highlight? When I found out she preferred Park End to Bridge, meaning both of us oppose our college’s preference. There was some really nice bonding over the overrated Bridge smoking area.

What was the most embarrassing moment? When he asked me if I wanted to get a Blue (get a Blue or become a Blue?) during my time at uni and I had to inform him that the idea of me playing any sport remotely well was laughable.

What was the most embarrassing moment? When I realised I was 3 stellas down and she was sober, leading me to have to reel in any loose chat.

Describe the date in 3 words: Chilled, friendly, different.

Describe the date in 3 words: Lamenting lost trinity.

Is a second date on the cards? Never say never.

John Evelyn

Is a second date on the cards? At the time of publication a second date has been secured.

ohn Evelyn is impressed that the sense of national solidarity in combating this dreadful virus has even reached that dark corners of Oxford student politics. One must question what led the secretary of OUCA to leak the mailing list: a political ploy? Reminding all of the benefits of social distancing? Perhaps just innocent incompetence. Regardless, Evelyn was most impressed that OULC responded with symmetrical ineptitude, leaking their own mailing list CHERWELL

mere days later. The two-party system truly is a wonderful thing! Even Frewin court can’t escape the camaraderie. Despite the best efforts of the hack-forged manacles of union rules to prevent any sort of movement towards morality, it appears Frewin court may soon be graced with a welfare officer. Evelyn suspects the rule change will only be half the struggle. A hack who could think of the welfare of others? Well that’d be an impressive find indeed.

SPORT

Project Restart: A vital conversation By Joe Hyland Deeson

n the midst of a national crisis, and in a news climate dominated by daily updates of infection and mortality rates across the country and the world, the Premier League has stepped up discussions concerning the potential resolution of the current season, dubbed ‘Project Restart’. Club chairmen have faced criticism in the media for their apparent focus on the financial, rather than human, implications of the coronavirus outbreak. On the face of it, there are a number of issues. With the entire country focussed on a deadly pandemic, the thought that twenty Premier League clubs, with their twenty-five man squads, should be able to finish a season so that TV contracts can be fulfilled and the transfer market millions can resume seems at best optimistic, and at worst selfish. After all, these are the footballers that took so long to take a pay cut at the onset of the crisis, and even when they did it was only through voluntary donations to the ‘Players Together’ fund, just a fraction of their multi-million pound salaries. Reports of financial difficulties are given short shrift by the mainstream media, with many people finding it hard to sympathise with even some of the smaller Premier League clubs such as Burnley, with owner Mike Garlick last week confirming they faced a £50 million shortfall if the season were cancelled. The money that Manchester United, one of the wealthiest clubs in the world, will lose in advertising, TV and match day revenue is reportedly over £20 million less

than the money they spent on transfers last summer alone. Yet such arguments and comparisons of wealth completely miss the point of the need for ‘Project Restart’. No one is disputing that top tier football involves almost unfathomably large sums of money. Nor that Premier League footballers are generally very rich people. But the clubs are run as businesses by their owners, and like the majority of businesses around the world, are finding that they are not built to withstand the effects of a global pandemic. When Matt Hancock singled out footballers, he chose to ignore other high paid workers. There was no call for wider CEO pay cuts. The financial implications of voiding the season are unthinkable. The Premier League pays around £3.3 billion in tax every year. It also helps to fund the Football League, as well as the entire football pyramid, right down to grassroots level. If the season is not finished, TV and sponsorship contracts cannot be fulfilled. And when the twenty Premier League clubs lose out, their players, fans and staff all lose out, and those that depend on their financial support lose out. Love them or loathe them, football clubs are deeply ingrained within the fabric of communities. Any threat to football clubs constitutes a threat to these communities. The implications of ‘Project Restart’ are naturally concerning from a public health perspective, and this goes beyond the players themselves. The Crystal Palace chairman Steve Parish has been one of its most vocal CHERWELL

advocates, but has emphasised arguments about venues and kick-offs are hypothetical until the government deems it safe. Resuming the season and continuing caution with regards to the virus are not mutually exclusive. This is especially important for Parish - Palace’s manager Roy Hodgson is 72, technically making him ‘at risk.’ Parish has also emphasised the difference between “trivialising” the current situation and “offering respite” from it, a reminder of the positive position that football can have as we begin to move forward collectively. In a nation where dinner table conversations have run dry, a slow reintroduction of popular culture has the power to lift people, and would almost certainly attract those who do not usually watch the sport. With the games played in empty stadia, this could all be done in line with current regulations. It offers respite without threatening large-scale social distancing. The resumption of some element of normality is a powerfully morale-boosting goal, whatever form it takes. Even those who dislike the sport can rekindle this feeling when it resumes. ‘Project Restart’ is littered with hurdles, but these are surmountable. Conversations about it are neither naïve nor dangerous; instead, they are representative of the wider choice between looking backwards, ridiculing the government and comparing ourselves to other nations, and looking to the future, whatever form it may take. No one should be made to feel guilty for choosing the latter. Illustration by Phoebe White

PROFILES

IN CONVERSATION WITH DAME HARRIET WALTER

ISABELLA COLLETTA TALKS TO DAME HARRIET WALTER ABOUT RUSSIAN GYMNASTS, SHAKESPEARE’S MEN AND HER CHAOTIC PROCESS.

feel pretty self-assured in characterising Dame Harriet Walter as a “familiar favourite” of British drama. With a prolific tenure at the RSC in her earlier career, and numerous television and screen credits under her belt, she is a performer of enormous technical skill, yet also one keen to surprise. Pinning Harriet Walter down into one category, I learn, is an almost impossible task. The characters she most enjoys playing, and watching, she tells me over the phone, are those with ‘a bit of mystery so you don’t know what makes me tick and you don’t make a judgement about me because you don’t know me.’ We’re talking about the limitations older female actors face with the roles available to them in the latter stages of their career, something Walter has spoken about openly in the past. Whilst maintaining the pressure is important, ‘audience’s sensibility’ is changing, she argues, and for older actress’ there are a growing number of more rounded roles which ‘don’t have everyone go “Oh I see she’s the jealous bitch” or “she’s the crabby old school mistress”. Just inject a contradiction into it and something that makes you go “oh, maybe I was wrong”. That in itself is shifting the ground.’ However, Walter is keen for this conversation to include the broad range of older female actresses’ contending with these issues. ‘It would sound churlish if I were complaining about that because I’m having such great roles myself’ she muses. There’s a level of truth to this, she is currently starring in three critically acclaimed television shows: Killing Eve, Belgravia and The End. Her role as the eccentric Russian gymnast and assassin trainer Dasha in Killing Eve seems particularly refreshing to her. ‘I was sitting around in my silk and corsets filming Belgravia in Scotland and my agent called and said “How’s your Russian?”’ she recalls. Already an admirer of the show, she

speaks with palpable excitement as she remembers landing the mysterious role. ‘I just went into ecstasy’ she laughs. ‘Kind of just the ticket. I do the Russian rather over the top, but I’d been so sustained and prim in my corset I was rather enjoying just letting loose.’ She makes a memorable entrance into the show’s third season; after turning up as an uninvited guest to the wedding of Jodie Comer’s Villanelle, both characters engage in a supremely choreographed brawl. The chaotic ruckus which follows Dasha everywhere she goes is a world away from her performance as the sharply austere Countess Brockenhurst in Belgravia. Yet Walter finds a strong appeal in her character’s sophisticated but indifferent persona, Dasha is someone who ‘doesn’t give a toss what people think of her’ she tells me. ‘She’s not conforming to anything, she’s just living in Barcelona as this absolute one off wearing crazy clothes. You don’t sense that she’s part of a community or has any friends she goes to have cups of tea with, s h e a l ienates ever yo n e around her and so I felt that I could behave as badly and as extravagantly as I liked.’

Walter chuckles frequently as we talk about Dasha. She seems to hold a general fondness for her more rebellious and misbehaving characters, the “bad girls” of her repertoire. Another darkly comic role she’s currently playing is Edie Henley in Sky Atlantic’s drama-comedy The End, who is the epitome of the ‘badly behaved granny’ as Walter describes. Much of the charm of Dasha and Edie lies in the audience’s inability to completely know these characters, who are full of surprises. In this way they are not completely dissimilar from Walter herself, who went down what was then a more unconventional route in her pursuit of a career in acting. Born in 1950 to the family who founded The Times newspaper, she turned down an offer from Oxford to study languages, instead deciding to pursue acting. ‘I was quite good academically and I knew that’s what my grandfather in particular wanted for me’ she considers, when I ask her about her initial steps into performance. As the niece of acclaimed actor Sir Christopher Lee, it wasn’t a completely alien world to her, yet to make the decision to pursue this particular path was still a rebellious one. She recalls that her grandfather in particular ‘hated the idea of me being an actor, he was very opposed to it and just thought of it as a waste of a brain. And luckily... I think my father felt a bit rebellious towards his own father and decided to help me.’ She was turned down by drama schools five times before she eventually won a place at the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art. ‘I’ve never regretted it really’; for her it’s a job in which the challenges and excitements are not always apparent to the outside world: ‘quite often you have to research a period of history or learn a lot about one particular discipline for the job, it’s very eclectic. It’s not years of studying one field, which of course that’s a wonderful thing, I just don’t think I was cut out for that.’

PROFILES It is in theatre in which Harriet Walters early career began to flourish, and she won critical acclaim in her numerous performances with the RSC. She first joined the company for its performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream in 1979, and went on to star in the company’s productions of All’s Well That Ends Well, Cymbeline and Twelfth Night to name a handful. Walter’s experiences in working with Shakespeare’s plays, however, are far from conventional. Between 2012 and 2016, she took on a number of Shakespeare’s roles written for men, starring alongside all-female casts in productions which were intended to completely disrupt how these classical texts were thought of. They are invigorating, highly necessary performances, and since she had worked on so many of Shakespeare’s plays before with the RSC, I questioned if it was something she’d felt an urge to do for a long time. She had in fact, she tells me, been working with texts such as Julius Caesar and The Tempest and tackling their male roles for some time, if not in the public eye. She recalls the workshops she did with founding member of the RSC, John Barton, in which she would take on Shakespeare’s men to dissect the language of male characters’ speeches and what it revealed. Through these master classes, she identifies, Shakespeare’s male heroes were not so far removed from the heroines she performed professionally. There was ‘particularly one point when I was doing Hamlet, and I thought what is so clear is that this is a human being speaking. The gender, for the

most part, is irrelevant.’ Her per for mances in all female productions of male dominat-

ed plays and tackling roles such as Brutus I am. So you’ve got to keep guessing as to by offering audience’s a new perspective what I’m really like because I’m not really was a ‘great’ opportunity for changing how like any of those people.’ we think about Shakespeare ‘because it There is frequently a specific curiosity acknowledges that women can think those between the actor and their method or the things and be part of those decisions.’ means by which they take on the entire For Walter personally, it was an op- being of another person as a part of their portunity to perform the language she everyday life. With her classical backhad so much knowledge of, ‘a lifetime ground and formative training, I’m curious really, thirty something years in speaking if this is a part of how Walter constructs Shakespeare’s verse’ and experience it in her performances. ‘I’m not a great one for a unique way. In a previous interview, she “process’” in terms of I always do this first’ acknowledged that performing the role she considers slowly. With each individual of Prospero brought her ‘closer to myself role comes different requirements, and she than I have ever been’. Questioning Walter reflects that part of the enjoyment of geton this, she explains the openness and ting to grips with a character is the variety vulnerability the performance it offers. ‘I kind of capitalise on a relied upon, ‘we were wearing bit of chaos’ she tells me, ‘it’s “The gender, very basic t-shirts and trackvery much horses for coursfor the most part, is es, and I let my instincts tell suit bottoms, so we didn’t irrelevant.” have a lot of trappings and me what it is I most need to were really quite raw and naked do’. in a way.’ Being left with the ‘sense of the She speaks about the various rehearsal language’ to embody the struggle with processes she undertakes for roles with admitting ‘it’s time to bow out it’s not my openness, for Walter it’s a system of go any longer’. This closeness with a char- working with those around you, being acter and the language of a performance is receptive to their ideas but also knowing an exception, and Walter recalls previous when to stand your ground. I suggest that statements that she has not identified with her descriptions of the characters she’s a lot of the characters she’s played. When played have sounded quite emotive, from addressing functional or ‘literal’ parts, an outsider’s perspective it seems like a there remains an element of separation, process of connection. ‘you think “this isn’t my world, I don’t This is something she possesses with an belong here, I’m pretending”.’ almost instinctive quality, ‘I never grew When looking over Harriet Walter’s out of that,’ she responds. ‘That kind of career, it is clear that she has played her fantasising of looking at a portrait in a galfair share of austere and authoritative lery of a woman in 1500-and-something, roles, and in performances from Sense and and going “what can I learn from that face, Sensibility to The Crown she captures a con- what was she thinking”’. Acting invokes a vincing and commanding sternness. I ask kind of resistant curiosity in the world, and if this is a character trait she particularly is something Walter has always been ‘fairly enjoys delving into. ‘I’ve always felt very at obsessed with’. She considers that interest odds with those characters unless they’re in people a foundational part of her person, written humorously,’ she reveals. ‘I find and she paints herself as ‘very nosy, very them quite boring to play’. inquisitive, wanting to live lots of different Acting is still often about looks, she tells lives not just my own.’ me, and in many cases the roles she reWalter does not come off as a closed-off ceives and the process of casting can often person, but I notice that this is one of the be visually driven. ‘I’m not pretending that few times she actively describes herself looks don’t come into it, and I think I prob- in our conversation, rather than pushing ably look naturally in repose. I don’t look herself away from the character traits like anybody’s cuddly granny so I come out which identify many of her performances. as the stern granny.’ Recognising “the real Having performed such a wide range of Harriet Walter” in her past performances characters throughout her career, she would be a difficult endeavour, yet this is eludes categorisation. This is just how she something she seems to relish. It’s with a likes it. As she mentioned to me earlier in slight coyness that she admits ‘I very rarely our conversation, there is a thrill in not have played anything terribly close to who fully revealing ‘what makes me tick’. CHERWELL

FOOD

TRADITION AND TRANSFORMATIONS: RECONNECTING THROUGH FOOD Mila Ottevanger

hat is your Christmas smell? Mine is cinnamon. At that time of year, it seems to spill off the table and into every bowl and dried fruit it can dust itself over. Inhaling that scent once seems to bring up a whole host of inter-connected memories, though. The apples for the cake are stewing in cinnamon and sugar, the dried oranges hang over the door in their cages, the coffee is black and steaming, the cherries are soaked in alcohol and melted dark chocolate and the marzipan is gently rolled in cocoa powder - and it’s mine, because nobody else wants it. These tastes and smells on the air carry with them those minute details - the china, the wrought-silver sugar spoons, the cream tablecloth, the buttercup glow of the lightbulb. There cannot be anything more evocative than food - or, specifically, the communal act of eating. It combines all those senses we are told are the most

sensitive - touch, smell, and, of course, taste - and quickly and irreversibly ties them to a recipe we can easily follow again, unearthing those feelings and memories through the simple act of eating a cake you had once when you were a child. A bowl of warm banana and custard, painstakingly heated just enough for comfort but not enough to burn the roof of my over-eager mouth, always brings me back to sitting at my grandpa’s left with a cup of similarly-prepared Ovaltine in the early winter evening as he proclaims himself ‘king of the custard.’ Leek and potato soup is my Opa at the stove as my cousins and I sit beneath the overhead lamp, kicking each other under the table while we wait for it to be served in little blue and white bowls through which the light shines when you hold it up. There are little moments contained in every step of construction. Each of us cousins took turns learning how to make strudel with our Oma, dousing

CHERWELL

the apple in lemon juice and evenly distributing the sultanas over the translucent pastry. My grannie taught me how to make her famous quiche, pressing down the shortcrust into the glass dish she uses specially for it. The act of preparing food links us to our parents, our grandparents, and their own parents, passing down the broader strokes of the cultures that produce us, yes - but also the tweaks they’ve made, their own signature dishes. More honey and cumin on the carrots; heavy on the lemon juice; a mix of garlic and ginger can’t go wrong. A family favourite brings those memories of holidays and celebrations rushing back to you; you mingle new experiences to the old ones through sharing your own tricks and recipes with your friends. Right now, we can’t see our families and our friends in the same way as we used to. I was out walking my dog the other day, though, and I saw a woman in gloves passing a tupperware crammed full of cupcakes over the fence to her masked granddaughter. If you don’t live near your loved ones, try cooking up a dish you make with them, or a meal you shared when you were all together. Look for the flavour that will bring them back to you.

COVER ARTIST: PHOEBE WHITE

‘OXFORD BY NIGHT’

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