Arts

The “Bolsonaro Effect”

‘The Blood Forest’ artwork illuminates the Brazilian night as a protest against the recent deforestation crisis

Sep 13, 2019 – by Greta Sanna

In the already stunning spectacle that is the amazon rainforest, unveiled by the pouring light of the projectors, portraits of an indigenous community tower above the ground. These are the images of the Surui tribe illustrated through large scale projections blending in perfect harmony with the surroundings. The mural like composition was constructed by French artist Philippe Echaroux and unmasks a clear protest against the calamitous phenomenon of deforestations, that has recently been brought to an exasperating level.

They are not inhabitants of the rainforest, they are the rainforest itself

During recent months the Brazilian population, pushed by the desire to increase the exploitation of their notoriously copious lands, and allegedly incited by their president Jair Bolsonaro, have started setting fire to areas of the rainforest. Once the fires are extinguished the population will install, in the now derelict areas, extensive farms focused on the production of goods such as coffee and soy. It is clear that these phenomenons of voluntary destructions, aroused by the incessant greed of a capitalist society, have susciated the anger and agitation of numerous other countries. The Brazilian rainforest also known as the “lungs of the earth” produce about 20% of the planet’s oxygen and its eradication will have serious implications on the already growing climate change.

To illustrate this occurring tragedy Echaroux uses as canvas the assaulted forest itself, displaying not only the riches of the flora and fauna that are being lost, but also the indigenous societies that are losing their homes and their lives everyday. Tribes such as the Surui live in close contact with nature. They are not inhabitants of the rainforest, they are the rainforest itself, like the humbly giant trees and extravagant animals. The connection with nature that has sadly been long lost by the western world is still alive and strong in these singular societies which live in harmony and understanding with the environment that surrounds them.

What is engaging about this artwork is consequently the display of the victims of these atrocities

To elevate this connection, the French artist constructs a unison between trees and portraits showing how the suffering of the burnt trees affects the latter as a population more than we could imagine. What is engaging about this artwork is consequently the display of the victims of these atrocities. Diverse thinkers have illustrated through art their protest against the “Bolsonaro effect”, but no one yet had so candidly and beautifully exposed images of the real victims in this tragedy. The exhibit of the entities affected as being not uniquely nature and animals but humans themselves accompanies the viewer to the realisation that not only a set number of indigenous populations could be at risk of extinction, but we could all be.

In this capitalistic society where money and economic development precede life how long will it take for people to realise the long term implications of these daily sacrifices? Philippe Echaroux’s objective with this artwork is to bring to light the rainforest tragedy so that we can be aware of what is happening to our planet; but following this realisation what active role can we have? We have the responsibility to identify and be aware of goods that have been produced in deforested areas at the harrowing cost of the lives of its inhabitants. Plants, animals and indigenous societies. One of art’s objective is that to touch us with the hard truths of the word but it is our job then to be an active participant in changing those truths.

Poltimore Highlights: A Poltimore-ish Sunday in the Chapel

I didn’t know what to expect from my first Poltimore, but found it surprisingly sweet and bursting with talent. Somewhere beyond Hay Festival and a smaller WOMAD or Greenman Festival, as a local arts festival it was modest but rich in substance. Proceeds from each year’s even to the namesake manor house, which also provides some striking performance spaces. From the back, Poltimore house looks like a battery farm, or a large corrugated warehouse, but inside, magic awaits. Iron sheets, scaffolding and a whole lot of love seem to suspend the 18^th century manor house in the process of crumbling, and catch it in mid-air. During the festival, each wing held spaces for charming art exhibitions, from the likes of local artists such as Bethany Saunders. Other lofty rooms offered paintings, paperbacks and a special screening of LGBTQ+ cinema. The indoor manor courtyard provided a high-rise backdrop for low-fi rappers and singer song-writers: smashed stained glass windows, soaring walls and home-grown sounds surrounded intimate crowds in the space.

modest but rich in substance

The festival boasted a main ‘garden stage’ outside amongst its performance areas, along with another large corrugated space called ‘the chapel’. It hosted EUTCo’s Every Brilliant Thing, (editorial review on the way), and a special rendition of Macbeth in collaboration with the Sun & Moon Theatre group. The Scottish Play revamp, masterminded by Tom Draper, mixed Shakespeare with Irvine Welsh’s Trainspotting. The combo was as hilarious, scary and moreish as a well-blended whisky/buckfast cocktail.

as hilarious, scary and moreish as a well-blended whisky/buckfast cocktail

Drama wasn’t the only intoxicant on stage, as the cast popped parma violet’s for pretend pingers, and spat Stella into the audience (*gasps* in a chapel?!). Sebastian Fage and James Murphy had the crowd in stiches with their impeccable scotch rasps as Banquo and Macduff. The eponymous anti-heroes, played by Milly Parker and Alex Rowntree, blurred insanity and reality: their dialogue flickered from Leith slang to Jacobean pentameter as ambition took hold. The Macbeths were radiant and dangerous, like the flowers and thorns of a Hibernian thistle. During the performance, the odd sheep baa-ing in the distance offered a convincing soundscape for Scotland past and present.

The chapel also hosted some comedy sets from the Exeter Comedy Society. They offered raucous and engaging improv games, and a mix of electric stand-up. Dan Allum-Gruselle, a finalist of the student chortle awards, absolutely killed it with his routine. Allum-Gruselle raised hell in the chapel, firing off dry, self-deprecating one-liners.

raucous and engaging improv games, and a mix of electric stand-up

Wandering through Poltimore, you might stumble into knitted bunting, toddlers playing with a beach ball or spoken-word poetry in a forest glade. Budding poet George Richards performed some innovative and poignant ‘disintegrating odes,’ and Pip Ancla Udens versified some urgent social conversations from Exeter to Lebanon to the Philippines and back again. There was something surreal and symbolic about Pip’s climate change poem being slowly drowned out by some funky white boys on the garden stage beyond. James Wijensinghe also offered a chuckling, grounded spoken-word performance, giving timely voice to the pressures of toxic masculinity on the psyche.

Pip Ancla Udens versified some urgent social conversations

Between the poetry, comedy, drama, art and music, Poltimore’s festival-goers danced, ducked drizzle and relaxed in the post-exam haze. A shout-out must go to the baguette van serving irresistible halloumi sandwiches, and to the bar with its range of ciders, and its local ale called the Pheasant Plucker. Yep, seriously. All in all, a grand old time was had by most, and the day was long but very Poltimoreish.

Art + Lit = Comics

While superhero films have been enjoying unprecedented success at the box office in the last decade, the source of characters like Iron Man, Batman and Spider-Man remains culturally underappreciated, particularly in Britain. The comic book, or graphic novel, is often viewed critically as empty fluff for children. However, it is an art form full of potential, and one which has yielded some of the most exciting creators and stories of the past century.

an art form full of potential

Comics are most easily defined as sequential art, often accompanied by words in the form of captions or speech balloons. The first modern comic book, Famous Funnies, was published in the US in 1933, and with the creation of Superman in 1938, the industry quickly took off. Millions of comic books circulated throughout the 1940s and beyond, and while superheroes were undeniably popular, other genres like crime, horror, and romance also saw great success. Marvel Comics as we know it today began in 1961, with Stan Lee and Jack Kirby’s Fantastic Four. Far from vapid pop culture, the heroes which Lee, Kirby and others created were flawed and richly characterised, and the worlds they lived in were dense with political allegory and social commentary.

the worlds they lived in were dense with political allegory and social commentary

The term ‘graphic novel’ entered the public eye in the 1980s with the publication of three seminal works. Art Spiegelman’s Maus detailed the harrowing story of Holocaust survivors, whilst The Dark Knight Returns and Watchmen are still celebrated today for their dark deconstruction of the superhero genre. From here, the art form exploded in popularity as a powerful method of story-telling. Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis, Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home, Chris Ware’s Jimmy Corrigan and Saga by Brian K. Vaughn and Fiona Staples are just a few examples of the moving, progressive and diverse comic books of the 21st century that have shown how much potential sequential art has.

Comic books are arguably unmatched for their ability to tell expressive and multi-layered stories

Comic books are arguably unmatched for their ability to tell expressive and multi-layered stories, with the unique combination of art and literature allowing for various layers of meaning inside a single panel. Superhero books are certainly more critically valuable than they’re given credit for, so if you love the movies, I strongly encourage you to dive into the history of your favourite character. If not, I firmly believe there’s a comic book for everyone. Comics are a dynamic, innovative art form which challenge and entertain their readers. They are great literature and great art rolled into one superlative package – what’s not to love?

Big Money and The Arts

The Booker Prize Foundation has lost a £1.6 million sponsorship deal with London-based hedge fund managers, The Man Group. Despite the Foundation’s grace under pressure, this is a huge deal in the literary world. In a statement, Thomas Keneally, winner of the prize in 1982, called the chaos a ‘climactic change in over the book industry’, suggesting that literature without the Booker is like ‘navigating without a north pole’. It seems that in 2019, polar vortexes are wreaking havoc in literature as well as weather. Literary climactic change sweeps the globe.

Perhaps public bodies like the Arts Council would have more money to invest in arts prizes and get more people reading and writing if hedge fund managers paid fair taxes

The Man Group, a faceless, global, multi-billion-pound corporation, has always been an odd bed-fellow with creative writing. The name Man Group alone sounds like a dastardly conglomerate from a spy novel, so bad it wouldn’t get a second glance from a Booker judge. Much has been made of writer Sebastian Faulks’ criticism of The Man Group’s involvement. In a statement, Faulks recently called them ‘the enemy’. Faulks suggested that literary prizes ought to criticise ‘the kind of people’ in the Man Group, and that he ‘wouldn’t feel happy accepting money from them’. Luckily for Faulks, he’s never had to endure that unhappiness, as his work was never long-listed for the Man Booker, but such sentiments keep surfacing.

In 2011, two poets withdrew from the prestigious T.S. Eliot Prize, due to ‘personal politics and ethics’. John Kinsella, quoted, and Alice Oswald were shortlisted for that year’s prize. The poets took a moral issue with taking money from a main sponsor, Aurum. Aurum, or Aurum Funds Management, is (you guessed it) a hedge fund manager. So what is the problem with hedge funds managers? What about them makes poets drop out of prizes, and what makes them Sebastian Faulks’ enemy number one?

…literature without the Booker is like ‘navigating without a north pole’

One of their crimes is that they are criminally boring to research, but Thomas Donaldson speaks fairly clearly on the topic in his essay Hedge Fund Ethics. Donaldson says that they evade tax through a legal loophole where their profits aren’t taxed as income. The secretaries of hedge fund managers often pay a higher tax rate than their employers, according to Donaldson, while they make hundred of millions of dollars. This, amongst other dodgy dealings like exploiting investors and a general lack of transparency, often leads poets and creatives to oppose them. Aurum, who funded the T.S. Eliot prize, has headquarters in Bermuda, which was declared the world’s worst tax haven by Oxfam in 2016.

As much as it was nice and generous for The Man Group to fund The Booker Foundation for £1.6 million per year, they make well over £1 billion in revenue and get unfair tax benefits every year as well. The deal that the T.S. Eliot prize negotiated, prompting poets to politically withdraw, came after the prize was defunded by the Arts Council. Perhaps public bodies like the Arts Council would have more money to invest in arts prizes and get more people reading and writing if hedge fund managers paid fair taxes.

These firms seem to hope that charity initiatives and literary prize funds will give them enough moral credit to be above suspicion

Clearly, large hedge fund groups like Man and Aurum have mountains of cash to spare. These firms seem to hope that charity initiatives and literary prize funds will give them enough moral credit to be above suspicion. The donations and deals are generally well under what they would have to pay to the state, if taxed fairly. However, as nothing is being done to combat the issue, perhaps the hedge fund managers are right.

2019 will see ‘The Man’ leave The Man Booker Prize. No one seems worried about The Booker Foundation’s funding crisis. In January, the Foundation announced that its trustees are negotiating with a new sponsor already, and ‘are confident that new funding will be in place by 2020’. Here’s hoping that the top-secret new sponsor is actually the government, pending hedge fund tax reforms.

Citation Station

Donaldson, Thomas. “Hedge Fund Ethics.” Business Ethics Quarterly, vol. 18, no. 3, 2008, pp. 405–416. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/27673242.

Gaurdian on Man Booker Prize
https://www.theguardian.com/books/2019/jan/28/man-booker-prize-sponsorship

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2019/jan/27/booker-prize-trustees-search-for-new-sponsor-after-funding-dropped

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2018/jul/08/man-booker-peter-carey-julian-barnes

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2018/feb/02/publishers-call-on-man-booker-prize-to-drop-american-authors

https://www.theguardian.com/theguardian/from-the-archive-blog/2011/oct/18/booker-prize-history-controversy-criticism

Gaurdian Oxfam Aurum
https://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/dec/12/bermuda-is-worlds-worst-corporate-tax-haven-says-oxfam

Aurum business profile
https://www.bloomberg.com/research/stocks/private/snapshot.asp?privcapId=114123032

If it’s a Scottish play, why is it in German? Dimitra Mina reviews the Residenztheater’s Production of Macbeth.

I ought to preface this review with the statement “I do not speak any German”. Although one of my personal goals for my year abroad is to learn German, at this current junction of the year I can order a cup of tea and thank people, and that would be the end of it. However, whilst studying in Munich I have been lucky enough to participate in a Shakespeare course (obviously taught in English) and a byproduct of doing this course involves being able to sample the best Shakespeare Germany has to offer. A few months ago I was subjected to a rather obscure and ‘millenial-esque’ The Tempest, wherein it viewed more like chick-lit than the bard. Last week saw the opening of Munich’s prestigious Residenztheaters production of Macbeth. During the famous Witches opening scene, I got rather excited, as they announced, in English, not German, their famous line “When shall we three meet again, in thunder, in lightening or in rain?” However my lingua franca knowledge ended there as I was subjected to, arguably, one of Shakespeare’s heaviest, bloodiest and language dense productions in Deutsch. Despite the language barrier, I thoroughly enjoyed the production and the piece was undoubtedly engaging. This production was definitely not the traditional Macbeth, as it undertook contemporary liberties imbued with more traditional elements. The first part of the play, in my opinion, out shined the second; with the introduction of the witches, the murder of Duncan, and the prophetic banquet scene surpassing one of the most infamous scenes, Lady Macbeth’s suicide.

This scene although bizarre, resonated with me, perhaps because one of the few words I know in German is ‘Bitte’ and therefore hearing it yelled repeatedly to no avail evinces the genre of tragedy.

The Stage

Despite being an eponymous play, the real protagonist in this production was the stage. At a first glance it appeared mundane, a black square atop the established stage and yet as the scenes changes the box moved, rose, spun, continuously moving the story forward. The staging was extremely simple, limited to this tertiary stage with various metal rods and swords placed throughout.

Three Witches

I am always intrigued with how producers and directors create their ‘bearded’ witches, as their depiction sets the tone for the rest of the play. The Residenztheater’s’ portrayal certainly did not disappoint. The ensemble became the Witches personal soapbox; as these skinny gnarled creatures scurried onto the backs of faceless ensemble members with long white hair covering their faces and going all the way to the floor; leaving the audience with a rather animalistic perception of them. They clicked, hissed and chanted; giving everyone in the audience inspiration for their nightmares (or maybe just mine). The Residenztheater offered a companion to the Witches in Lady Macduff, who is present from the first scene, a character in the original play we only ‘meet’ in act four. This production had Lady Macduff, walk calmly on stage, her face painted in blood and play the role of a ‘Greek Chorus’ to various characters on the play and continuously contributing little tidbits of knowledge.

Bromance?

Despite my limited language knowledge, the dynamic between Banquo and Macbeth from the get-go was evidently brotherly and their initial lighthearted banter, juxtaposed with Macbeth’s subsequent betrayal made it all the more heartbreaking. Further, as aforementioned almost every scene took place on the dynamic tertiary stage, with the exception of Banquo’s Murder which took place ‘below. This heightened the wrongness of Macbeth’s decision to murder his brethren, essentially debasing himself and stooping to too low a level in pursuit of his ambitions. Juxtaposed with Lady Macbeth and Macbeth sharing a sultry dance up on this ‘high’ stage, whilst simultaneously leaving the Murderers to dispose of Banquo ‘below’.

Lady Macbeth

I always try to twist the trite read of Lady Macbeth, where she isn’t the manipulative, barren woman, however this production had no qualms with portraying her as so. We open to seeing her, lying on the ever-changing stage slanted downward, wearing just a slip and she’s cackling. Lying on her back like a girl reading a love letter from a school crush, and cackling. Despite her more conventional characterization the relationship with Macbeth was certainly different than the norm as, to the surprise of the audience, the lead couple were, in my eyes hyper-sexualized. A departure from the hackneyed marriage of convenience ethos often used to characterize them. Upon meeting one another their embrace is more than merely warm and this continued throughout subsequent scenes. Their hyper-sexualized dynamic was not limited to touching and kissing but also playful chasing viewed as sexual foreplay. Lady Macduffs aside statements that Macbeth is merely using her for her body as well as enforcing that her purpose is merely to bear children bolster this hyper sexualized vision.

The Pitfalls

Although the first part of this review lauds the performance, the second part was underwhelming. Somehow scenes such as Lady Macbeth’s suicide and Macbeth’s own demise were anti-climactic. I appreciated characters such as Malcolm being played by women, however their scenes were insignificant. The murder of Lady Macduff and her children was obscure to say the least. Murderer’s 1 and 2, were these vaudeville like actors, attempting to add some humor into a very dark scene. This attempt at macabre humor although most likely was to scandalize the audience, for lack of a better phrase, rubbed me the wrong way. As aforementioned Lady Macduff was a narrator like character throughout the play dropping ‘truth bombs’ about the dynamics of the relationships, such as Macbeth merely wanting Lady Macbeth for her body and as a byproduct her ability to procreate. To see her, a headstrong character, initially dismissive of the murderers ability to kill, instantly switch to a pleading woman, for the safety of her child was disturbing and also non sequitur. Further, I felt that the play disregarded women’s roles as ‘people’ but rather viewed them as objects, reflected in the murderer’s removal of his belt, although used to tie up Lady Macduff it could also be construed as an act of sexual violence. As this production had significantly altered previous scenes, anything could happen and I feared that they may even depict the rape of Lady Macduff. A character seen as a wise mother in this production, reduced to nothing more than a submissive woman, helpless against the aggression of men. This scene although bizarre resonated with me, perhaps because one of the few words I know in German is ‘Bitte’ and therefore hearing it yelled repeatedly to no avail evinces the genre of tragedy.

I am not a fan of dark plays, I view performance as an escape and therefore appreciate the Hollywood style of depicting the world through rose-colored lenses, and yet in the play my favorite scene has always been Lady Macbeth’s suicide. To an extent it is her redemption scene, where you recognize that she’s not a sociopath and the murders have weighed on her, so much so that she feels compelled to take her own life. Again, I do not speak German, so I had no choice but to observe her actions and demeanour. One facet of this scene which stood out, primarily because it’s a source of contention when it comes to characterizing Lady Macbeth, where she takes a shawl and wraps it to resemble a baby and began quieting this imaginary child. Literary critics often argue that what allows lady Macbeth to be so cunning is her lack of children (any visible children). This scene gives insight into perhaps a ruined woman, who in an era where heirs were essential was unable to produce a child, forcing her into a precarious position.

Despite appreciating this tender moment, Lady Macbeth, in this production opts to slit her own wrists rather than jump out of the tower, although each director/producer is entitled to their interpretation, the enigmatic stage was the perfect place to ‘jump’. I felt that the audience was sitting on tenterhooks waiting for this dramatic fall, which never came. Further, Lady Macbeth bled out in front of Macbeth and also shared her death with an ensemble member Macbeth decided to kill in a moment of rage (presumably Young Siward) weakening the brevity of her scene. This ‘weakening’ I felt continued right up until the moment Macduff kills Macbeth in close proximity with a knife to the jugular. Overall the ending was anticlimactic, when compared to the first ‘act’, a disappointing end to a promising production.

A Christmas Interview with Gilbert and Sullivan Society

In the run up to their Charity Christmas Gala, I met with two members of Gilbert and Sullivan Society, President Amelia Hall and Musical Director Alex Gordon.

Tell us a bit about G&S.

ALEX: G&S perform comic, early musical theatre operettas. They are often clever and catchy and will always leave you with a smile on your face, even if there’s a sad moment. The music is brilliant, almost everyone anywhere would have heard at least one of the songs from at least one of the shows. It’s something that almost everyone can get into and love.

What does G&S mean to you personally?

ALEX: It means a great deal to me. Firstly, I saw a lot of G&S when I was younger and it has kind of stayed with me ever since. The society is amazing, I have made some of my closest friends here and couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to go through university with. It means a lot that I can now take a leading part both as MD and as Publicity Officer. This year we have worked harder than ever to make sure the society succeeds.

MIA: G&S, for me, represents an opportunity for absolute hilarity. Not only are the roles themselves both challenging and fun to play, but the society is incredibly dear to my heart. We are so lucky to have a wealth of talented, enthusiastic, and downright hilarious members who make putting on our annual shows an extremely enjoyable and rewarding experience. As President this year, I have the incredible opportunity to guide and guard this society, and to make it the best it possibly can be.

The hard work and the genuine friendship of the cast shines through in abundance

What can we expect from the Christmas concert?

MIA: The audience can expect a fairly relaxed and highly entertaining evening, with an excellent selection of music. We have some fantastic performers singing pieces from some of G&S’ most famous and well-loved operettas, such as The Mikado, The Pirates of Penzance, and H.M.S. Pinafore. We also have some fantastic chorus numbers – including some from both last year’s show, Princess Ida, and from our February show, Ruddigore – and congregational carols to get everyone into the festive spirit.

Why did you choose the charity, the Exeter Leukaemia Fund, for this year?

ALEX: Firstly, it has a close tie with some of the members of the society and it seemed a very fitting choice. They also do incredible work within Exeter. They often go beyond the limit in order to give people the facilities and comforts they not only deserve but need. They deserve a lot of credit as a charity and I hope we can stay with them for many years to come.

MIA: We were immediately impressed with ELF when we began looking for a charity to support. They provide essential, compassionate support and care to families affected by blood cancer across the South West. It provides transport, accommodation and guidance to those whose lives have been turned upside down by a diagnosis. ELF is not only an incredibly worthy charity support, but one that is close to the heart of many of our members. It is lovely to be able to support a local charity as we can see directly how our donation assists their amazing work

Tell us about your upcoming show, The Ruddigore.

ALEX: The show this year is different from other G&S shows. It is slightly creepier but at the same time hilariously funny. It’s got a plot line that’s kind of hard to explain in just a few words.

MIA: Ruddigore is, at heart, a love story. It documents the struggle of Robin Oakapple and Rose Maybud, who love each other from afar but are both reluctant to reveal their true feelings. For Rose, a sense of propriety and etiquette prevents her from confessing her love, but for Robin, it is his secret identity as a bad baronet of the town that prevents him. This curse, which has been passed through Robin’s family for centuries, requires the bearer to commit a crime a day or perish in agony. Robin is too nice for this curse, though, and proves to be a useless villain (with much amusement). With the arrival of his elder brother and his foster brother, Robin’s romantic suit is potentially foiled, much to the chagrin of the chorus of bridesmaids, who are desperate for a wedding!

Why should people come to see G&S perform?

ALEX: This year we have one of the best casts I ever seen as well as one of the best sounding orchestras. I know the music and libretto backwards but watching some of the scenes still has me in absolute stitches. I can promise you will not be disappointed.

MIA: The hard work and the genuine friendship of the cast shines through in abundance.

Exeter University Gilbert and Sullivan Society’s Christmas Gala, sponsoring the Exeter Leukaemia Fund, is on Saturday 3rd December at 7pm.

Tickets are £5 and are available on the door. Looking forward to seeing you all there!

Not Just a Pretty Face

Director Olorunfemi Fagunwa was rejected as a candidate for directing theatre through the Kenneth Branagh New Writing Award at Windsor Fringe Festival because “the committee & the play’s director have agreed that a male director would be better for this play (Eyes to the Wind)”, according to the email she received in response to her application. Fagunwa responded to this astonishingly backward, condescending message with an energetic and empowering open letter published on her Facebook page, closing with the eloquent reproach that “Without a doubt your willingness to make a decision based on my organs and hormones serves as a reflection of your incompetence.”

Although Fangunwa has shown herself as more than competent in dealing with such examples of systematic sexism, the prejudice she is contending with is one that no fresh talent should face when trying to make their break in the arts industry. In recent years, the aesthetic constraints placed upon actresses in Hollywood have garnered awareness and received plentiful challenges on grounds of poor representation and idealising weights and shapes which are not healthily achievable for many women. However, there is a danger that focussing on the misogynistic repression of women whose bodies are a necessary part of their art leads to cases such as Fangunwa’s being overlooked.

Women are being routinely oppressed purely because of their organs and hormones

Last year, American author Catherine Nichols revealed in her cannily titled essay “Homme de Plume” for Jezebel that when she sent her manuscript out to 50 agents under her own name, she received just two requests for further material. However, after setting up a male nom de plume and sending a further 50 copies of her novel’s opening and cover letter, an astounding 17 of her test group responded, wanting to read more.

The Architectural Review magazine recently received results from a survey, finding that 61% of female responders had faced gender discrimination in the work place, with four out of ten declaring their employer the perpetrator of this active sexism.

it’s time for our industry to earn its liberal social tag

The East London Fawcett group, dedicated campaigners for gender equality, released research of 134 commercial galleries in London (representing an enormous 3,163 artists) which declared only 31% of the artists were female and 78% of the galleries showcased more male artists’ work than females.

Women in seemingly every branch of our industry are being routinely and systematically oppressed purely because of their organs and hormones, as Fagunwa incredulously puts it in her open letter. This has to change if the arts are to become as progressive as they are purported to be; it’s time for our industry to earn its liberal social tag by properly challenging the dual issues of discrimination and representation at every level and in every field. We must acknowledge that misogyny,through aesthetic prejudices, does not only affect artists whose bodies are necessarily part of their work, such as dancers and actors. We must work to tackle this with a more conscientious and considerate ethic.

How could Brexit affect the arts?

Coming to theatres near you, a new horror movie of sorts. Featuring Brexit zombies who crave only one thing; the brain of the United Kingdom. It’s called Dawn of Uncertainty and sure enough, as every second passes you will become nervous, terrified and sceptical of the future our people face. Now I’m no political expert; far from it, but there are two things I do know. The first is that we are definitely in the process to leave, no matter what happens and no matter how close the final result was, the leave side were victorious. We must respect those who decided upon this and no matter how frightening it may seem, we must work as a community instead of declaring a civil war of total division. The second is that art an entity that promotes freedom and the destruction of binary oppositions, an entity that thrives within partnerships. Unfortunately, the beloved industry is threatened by our decision to leave the European Union, nothing is certain of course but over the next few years, the arts industry could face a few set-backs.

art is…an entity that thrives within partnerships.

In economic terms, the UK’s arts industry provides £84.1 billion to our economy each year (gov.uk) and with an abundance of artists, musicians, film makers and actors there is no doubt that Britain has got talent, but underlying this is the role the EU has upon such an industry. For example, the EU is Britain’s second largest export market for music, thereby showing how much power the EU possesses on the success of our industries. The popularity of British culture suggests that this will not perish immediately, but the hostility created from our departure could affect an European perspective of the British Isles. Not to blacken the Leave movement but there are definitely dark clouds of racism and xenophobia associated with their campaign.

Additionally, such hostility has other repercussions. Many sectors of the arts industry use multiculturalism and diversity gained from the EU to their advantage. Both London’s Sadler’s Wells and Hallé Orchestra have emphasised the importance of bringing in foreign talent. It bestows something new and refreshing; art is not meant to be stagnant. Orchestras have reawakened primarily due to the invigorating introduction of overseas talent. Leaving the EU complicates such innovation, it leads to the laborious madness of visas and work permits. Although not perfect, paperwork at present is less complex whilst being a member of the EU. If new talent ceases to come forward or at the very least declines interest, we could see a potential reduction in numerous sectors of the arts industry as our once forward thinking, progressive nation takes on a seemingly cold, unwelcoming appearance. Art is an ever changing space in which culture and diversity are encouraged. Without this, the British art industry may start to fade which could affect both our economy and the social welfare of the people. Statistics from the Arts Council suggest an improved sense of community and a lack of social isolation due to the promotion of arts and culture, there is no doubt about the importance of this industry.

Art is an ever changing space in which culture and diversity are encouraged. Without this, the British art industry may start to fade.

Linking on from economics, there is the importance of the Creative Europe Fund. Admittedly only created in 2014, it still offers the opportunity for members to expand their creative horizons and develop projects which as demonstrated by the above figure can lead to benefits for the economy. There is a key word in this though, ‘member’. By leaving we lose access to this fund and new potential talent could go unnoticed as a Brexit government chooses instead to focus on forcing our diverse country to become the imperialistic power it once was. The Leave campaign continually emphasised that the EU needs us, it will come crawling back to us, salivating at the mouth for our trade, our culture. But there is no guarantee of this, there is no guarantee that we will regain certain deals, certain funding and that is certainly worrisome for the arts sector; a sector which may not gain priority under a Brexit government. Another example of such vital funding is the European Capital of Culture. Thanks to both governmental and EU funding, Liverpool was able to blossom into a cultural hotspot irresistible to tourists and locals alike; generating an additional £753.8 million in 2008 for the local economy (Arts Council). The EU wants to promote art and culture, by leaving we could be risking future artistic development as funds run elsewhere. The UK’s arts industry saw 10 million visits in 2011, representing almost half of all tourists (Arts Council). With a high likelihood of economic damage at the hands of the Leave campaign, we can only hope the EU will still want to support our arts industries for the cultural freedom they represent, even if it is only secondarily. It is one of the few things that may keep the UK afloat in such an uncertain time.

our once forward thinking, progressive nation takes on a seemingly cold, unwelcoming appearance

Hopefully, the arts industry here will continue to flourish especially due to our variety of talent and the development of proposed new links with South America, Asia and Eastern Europe. Art is and always will be influenced by different cultures from every corner of the world including Europe. Obviously, upon our departure, cultural hotspots within Europe will not become invisible, of course the arts will still be inspired by Europe, partnerships and collaborations will continue to exist, but without that connection, will other nations be willing to continue associate with our nation? The arts industry is indubitably under threat and we can only hope Brexit doesn’t gamble a beautiful cultural scene for just a taste of out-dated nationalism.

Wrecked By Recording

Imagine if exam boards condoned Maths GCSE calculus units completed with the use of a smart phone calculator app rather than a scientific calculator. If Chemistry GCSE practicals did not require live demonstrations by the teacher of the scientific process before students were expected to complete the experiment, and they could just watch a quick YouTube tutorial instead. If in human body modules of the Biology GCSE, you didn’t have to monitor each other’s pulses before and after doing star jumps or running on the spot, but you could just use pre-recorded or made up results from a textbook to comment on the effect of exercise on cardiac rhythm and respiration. After all, how important can hands-on learning be when faced with the more pressing issues of time and money?

Well, allow me to reassure you, none of the above will ever happen; STEM students, unlike Arts students, are rarely expected to complete their studies using insufficient tools.

With the recent announcements from OCR and AQA that drama students can now write on their final paper about recorded theatre performances rather than the previously stipulated live performances, one cannot help but wonder when examiners will finally cut to the chase and tell students with a passion for acting that the acting found in Coronation Street or the latest Marvel film is all the observatory training they need.

Live performance is unlike anything else. Anyone who has ever taken to the stage, whether to act, sing, dance, joke, read or play, will tell you that. Theatres have a separate, organic dimension which a camera – no matter how skilfully operated – will never be able to capture. The expectant, shifting ambience, the knowledge that whatever happens cannot simply be scrapped and revisited, the unpredictable and ever changing nature of plays in performance, the ambiguous audience who will howl at a joke one night and sneer at it the next, all prepare students of theatre not only for acting in front of a live audience themselves, but for life. Whether you choose to spend your life pursuing artistically performative careers or working behind an office desk, the flexibility and external awareness that live theatre embodies is essential to success.

STEM students, unlike Arts students, are rarely expected to complete their studies using insufficient tools.

Recorded performances, as any good English student such as myself is trained to say, show a bias and reception all of their own; they are not an original artistic product, but the reading of one. Camera angles, microphone placements, changes to set and technical scripts to accommodate a film crew, the changed nature of an audience which knows it is observed and recorded and put under new pressures, all alter the nature of the artistic product, making it something else entirely. That is not to say that there is nothing to be enjoyed or learnt from recordings – studying drama and plays over the last few years of my life has led me to greatly appreciate how moving and brilliant recorded performances can be, showing new and intriguing perspectives on old scripts and stories – but to equate them with live performances, especially in conjunction with a qualification purposefully designed to teach live performance, is wrong.

I refuse to acknowledge this change to the syllabus as a question of accessibility, one diverting route board representatives have tried to lead the media toward taking. Sewing machines are expensive, but do exam boards endorse textiles degrees which require only the ability to work with bare needle and thread? Not every school has easy access to a high-quality sporting ground, but that doesn’t stop funding and – more crucially – time allocation for talented and driven students to visit environments designed to test their potential and enthuse them for further challenges. The real problem here is a lack of passion and dedication for arts subjects at every level of the educational system, from the Department of Education, through to exam boards, through to funding bodies, through to governors and senior staff in schools which block and divert money, time and staff away from the arts subjects. It’s a deeply-rooted issue, and one that needs to be cleanly and completely resolved for fear we bring up a generation of disillusioned, uncreative and uninspired children who struggle to find their place in a society so unwaveringly focused on more quantifiable fields of academia.

“Paul’s playhouse” – an interview with Exeter Northcott Artistic Director Paul Jepson

Paul Jepson moved to Exeter to be beside the seaside, and then he accidentally found himself running a theatre. Still termed the ‘newly appointed’ Artistic and Executive Director of Exeter Northcott, Jepson has now been in the role for over a year, and has managed to turn the theatre around from what was a cripplingly poor mid-scale venue to a burgeoning cultural hub. “It’s been under-run and under-ambitious for quite a long time,” Jepson describes, “I think that I was able to take some decisions that my predecessors perhaps couldn’t have taken because there was really nothing to lose.”

Drawing upon his 24-year directing experience, Jepson’s distinct decision is the return to in-house productions. Planning to have at least four self-run shows each year, Jepson has made a “strong and immediate commitment” to producing his own work. His first outing as Artistic Director was his reimagining of Dickensian classic A Christmas Carol last December. Playing to over 16,000 revellers and exceeding financial targets by 25 per cent, the show was a triumph for the new boss. Next came a take on Harold Pinter’s Betrayal, which finished its run a couple of weeks ago. A four-hander, staccato in pace and comedic in tone, similarly brought in hearty revenue for the building, but seemed an unconventional choice to kick-start 2016’s repertoire. Jepson says his offbeat picks are deliberate: “I didn’t want to do a play that was designed to be a popular play first, I wanted to show people that we do a broader range of work.”

His next project is led by the same logic: a one-woman play about human trafficking, This Is My Body is an exciting, edgy addition to the theatre’s calendar. Written by Martin O’Brien, it won the Best Stage Production at the Anti-Slavery Day Media Awards in 2015 and Jepson describes it as “a very fine piece of writing by a playwright who is widely respected but a relatively new voice. He’s written an extraordinary play about a woman’s re-engagement with the memory of what’s happened to her; in many ways it’s a rather brutal play, but it’s also quite strongly spiritual.”

Variety and balance are Jepson’s driving aims in commissioning and creating, and it’s largely to embrace all aspects of the Exeter audience. “I am not a snob,” Jepson asserts, “and I am not a snob about the way I programme”. He’s right: taking a quick glance at the upcoming What’s On, you have your Pam Ayres, your Jimmy Osmond, but you also have… human trafficking. Nothing snobby about that. There is something for everyone, from the edgy to the mainstream, and he’s hoping us youths appreciate the changes: “The young, precious cultural champions of the future don’t touch commercial stuff with a bargepole, because they might be infected with the dreaded grain of boulevards and the bourgeoisie. That seems not to be a factor anymore. People are noticing that there’s stuff in the programme now which is not about that, just as there’s stuff in the programme which is most definitely about that.”

the young, precious cultural champions of the future don’t touch commercial stuff with a bargepole

It’s not often that you get a theatre so utterly immersed within one demographic. As we watch students milling around beside us, Jepson found himself asking the age-old question: how do you get students to see shows? “Student attendance when I took over was really pretty pathetic,” he admits, “there is this mantra that students are very difficult to get to the theatre unless you give them something free and there’s comedy at the end of it. I’m sure that students are very motivated by cheap booze and comedy but I’m not only going to give them that. I want to connect to the student population and I want them in here more.”

There are a number of ways Jepson plans to get us student scumbags off YikYak and on seats. New writing and fresh ideas is the key. The themes and impact of This Is My Body is a case in point, Jepson says: “I want students to care about modern slavery and I want them to come and show me that they care by sitting in my theatre and watching what is going to be a damn good play about it.”

This Is My Body — Image: Exeter Northcott Theatre

It’s also about letting students know that they’re wanted, he says; despite the fact that ‘Northcott Theatre’ is splattered in capital letters in plain-view, visible to us all every time we attempt the hike up Forum Hill, often students simply don’t know what’s on offer. Student-staff engagement is the answer, thinks Jepson: “Betrayal is the first time that members of staff actively told students that they should come and see the show, and that’s something that I encouraged. I think it did make quite a big difference.” With the student take-up on Betrayal higher than ever before, Jepson feels “emboldened” to “establish a bit more of a theatre habit in this most inhabitable of audience groups”.

It’s not just the students that Jepson has to get on side. Working with, or indeed against, the University bigwigs has somewhat contributed to the Northcott’s tumultuous financial past. Costing £15,000 a week to run, ticket sales do not keep the theatre afloat, it is an operation that relies heavily on subsidy and University investment. “I don’t think [the University] would always say I’m a pleasure,” laughs Jepson, but with the building now used for lecture space twice a week and the Uni top-dogs spending significant amounts of money improving its infrastructure, he’s optimistic about a new “pragmatic” partnership with the landlords.

Jepson has a number of innovative new ideas. He’s in talks with Exeter College and the University to create a Northcott Performance Academy. He also plans close interaction with Exeter’s research projects, and his ‘Impact’ initiative already has two academics on board; Jepson hopes to work with Psychology Professor Linda Clare, a dementia specialist, to create a show from her first-hand accounts of those suffering from the disease. Similarly, he’s hoping to forge a play out of Exeter mathematician Professor John Terry’s work on epilepsy. Rather than being constrained by his University environment, Jepson is impressive in how willing he is to embrace it. “Long-term theatres,” he tells me, “aren’t about bricks and mortar: it’s about what happens in them.”

Look out for our review of This Is My Body, coming soon!