Thursday 26th June 2025
Blog Page 1560

Irish students at Oxford doubled over last decade

0

The number of students from the Republic of Ireland at Oxford has almost doubled over the past decade, Cherwell has found.

The Sunday Times reported that the total number of Irish students at Oxford and Cambridge had increased twofold between 2001 and 2011, from 213 to 448.

In Oxford specifically, the number of those domiciled in the Republic has risen from a total of 67 in 2001 to 135 in 2012.

The main driver has been an increase in postgraduate enrolments. While there are 31 undergraduates in 2012 compared to 27 in 2002, numbers undertaking graduate study have jumped from 40 to 103 in the same period.

First year St Catz linguist Niamh Furey, an Irish student from Derry/Londonderry in Northern Ireland, suggested, “Improved crossborder relations may have exposed more Irish students to the UCAS system, which is commonplace in the North. But I would say that Ireland’s youth has adapted to the country’s economic state: for me, Oxford’s opportunities and better funding relative to the Dublin universities were a deciding factor.”

Other Irish students in Oxford expressed varying degrees of surprise. Jennifer Ní HÉigeartaigh, a Dubliner and third year PPEist at St John’s, described the figure of 31 undergraduates as “shocking”.

Second year Somerville PPEist Zoe Fannon, from Cork, said, “Given that Ireland is so close to the UK, has a strong historical connection with it, and is an English-speaking country, 31 students of 54,344 sitting the 2011 Irish schoolleaving exam is not very many.”

Free higher education, with a small registration cost, was the case in Ireland until 2011. It was replaced by a student contribution – in effect a fee – which stood at €2,250 (£1,810) in 2012/3.

Ní HÉigeartaigh suggests the new system “is probably decreasing the gap in upfront costs and making students more likely to consider [the UK] than they were when Irish universities were free.”

Nieouamh Burns, a first year philosophy and German student at New College, said, “I would have expected the increase in fees [in the UK] to put a lot of people off – doing an undergrad at Oxford is much more expensive than at TCD [Trinity College Dublin]. In my Dublin state school we rarely spoke about coming to study in the UK. The brightest students in my school didn’t even consider coming to Oxford; I was the only applicant.”

Fannon concurred, explaining, “It just doesn’t occur to a lot of people that they could go to the UK, let alone Oxbridge. I don’t remember seeing much recruitment by UK universities in Cork at least.”

Ed Nickell, president of CraicSoc, a society for Irish and Northern Irish Oxford students, also noted, “Personal experience has shown that the majority of Irish and Northern Irish students come from a small number of top schools, especially from grammar schools in the North. We need to think not just in terms of getting Irish students, but students from a wider variety of educational backgrounds.”

Review: The Laramie Project

0

★★★☆☆
Three Stars

Interviews with locals in the aftermath of the real-life murder of gay-hate crime victim Matthew Shepard in Wyoming form The Laramie Project. Moisés Kaufman’s script questions the impact, or lack of, that the murder has had on the community in this tight piece of verbatim theatre – that’s documentary style theatre to you and me. 

The script is slick, the cast of eight rapidly flip between an astonishing sixty characters. Yet it doesn’t come into its own until the end of the first act. The rest of the act offers background on the case that’s interesting, but far less thought-provoking than the questions of homosexual attitudes that make up the second. Directors Benita Tibb and Lucy Shenton decide for there to be no set, with the only props being some torches and a tape player. On entrance into the theatre, the audience are faced with an imposing line of actors at the top of the raked seating, staring down at us and emphasising how we are the audience of a play in a Brechtian style. The rapid movements of the cast between interviews, from the gallery to the stage where we were sat, were polished and clearly heavily rehearsed. It would have been easy to stage the play with the actors in a line, flicking between characters as they recited different interviews. But this innovative and well refined staging helped both the character transitions and created different levels of intensity and a physical hierarchy. 

With so many characters to play, as a whole the actors managed to cope well. American accents did tend to drift from time to time, and the odd awkward pause in the midst of rapid and snappy dialogue made it obvious that someone had forgotten a line, yet this was the first night in an unquestionably challenging play. The absolute standout performance came from James Kitchin, seamlessly slipping from character to character and astonishingly managing to portray the most emotional scene from the play – Matthew Shepard’s father speaking to the courtroom – but keeping the audience at a distance that made them look at the bigger picture. Is the death penalty appropriate? Why there are such hate crimes? How do we overcome such prejudices? 

This was by no means a perfect opening night and fatigue seemed to start to creep in for the cast midway through the second act, yet any weaknesses are made up for by the eventually absorbing story and the unique and exciting staging from the directors. It’s definitely worth going to see if just for that.

Review: The Cherry Orchard

0

★★★☆☆
Three Stars

Of course, one goes in to a production like this slightly apprehensively. Chekhov is a difficult one at the best of times and a student production – with a student translation, I might add! – could easily turn out to be two and a half long hours of bad theatre. In fact, what I witnessed at The Cherry Orchard was a carefully staged, thought-out and well-cast production.

The casting choices seem to have been made with care, with each actor being able to carry off their character, if not with ease, then certainly successfully. Each character in Chekhov is equally important in their unimportance, each represents a demonstration of the human inability to change anything. The cast manage this admirably by being able to focus the attention of the audience on them when they must, then fade into the background when another character rises to the proverbial spotlight. Lyubov’s (Fiona Johnston) oscillation between despair and intense childishness quickly becomes the central part of the play it should be, without undermining any of the others.

The atmosphere is established from the very beginning, as live music guides the audience into the theatre and the two opening characters are already onstage, creating the scene. The set is elaborately done, with the contrast between dusty relics and carefully arranged photographs and paintings being an interesting and sensitive choice. The lighting is also used to mould the tone of the piece and it is taken advantage of suitably, by recreating changes in the day as well. It also allows the second act to begin with a bang which, to anyone having any doubts as to whether they are enjoying themselves in the interval, disperses them and prepares them for an enjoyable second half. 

They say to translate is to own and interpret, and to an extent this is visible. However, there were some cases where perhaps the directing was trying a touch too hard to make it modern or fun, and some of the original feeling was irrevocably lost. An important example is Varya (Katie-Rose Comery). What I originally – erroneously – wrote off as bad acting, was in fact, a directorial instruction to turn the sombre, deeply religious adopted-yet-abandoned sister into a flirty, confused thing. This almost ruined the ending for me, and confused some around  me who were not as familiar with The Cherry Orchard to begin with. 

The Cherry Orchard is something between an elegy for the past and an ode to stubbornness. This is certainly put across in every way, cast, stage and script. Despite some drawbacks and – at times – confused directorial choices, it is a play worth seeing for those who are familiar with the work and newcomers alike.  

Review: Arcadia

0

★★★★☆
Four Stars

If there were ever a play to suit an Oxford audience, this would be it. Stoppard’s content, style and comedy all fit our intellect and quirky, if not extremely arrogant, charm. Be warned however that this viewing demands a great deal of concentration and that subject matter is esoteric to say the least. Ranging from Fermat’s last theorem to Determinism and the laws of physics to the poetry of Lord Byron, sprinkled steadily with a history and criticism of English landscape gardening; this play can often feel more like an intelligence test than light entertainment. But, note well that these issues are the faults and fancies of the script and not its execution which was, for the most part, superb. 

Set in Sidley Park, an established country house, it opens in 1809 with Thomasina, a precocious thirteen year old mathematical prodigy, asking her tutor, Septimus Hodge, to explain the phrase “carnal embrace”. So begins discussion of yet another dominant topic of this piece – love, or the physical act of it at least. Accusations of adultery are flung about the manor and resolved in the best early nineteenth century style of men challenging each other to a duel. While Rosanna Forte as Lady Croom is excellent comic relief, Alice Gray’s Thomasina balances wonderfully presumptuous genius with naïve teen while Jonathan Griffiths certainly carries the self-importance and vexing wit demanded of a Cambridge supervisor although his emotions often lack sincerity.

The other half of the play is set in modern day when academics gather at Sidley; Hannah Jarvis to chart the gardens as a romantic motif, Valentine Coverly to calculate and graph the estate’s grouse population and Bernard Nightingale to discover whether Lord Byron were ever a murderous resident. Adam Gethin-Jones is very amusing as Nightingale, the fame-driven old fashioned English don, especially in his tirade against the entire field of science, although his toff-like accent is sometimes too preposterous. While Richard Grumitt as Valentine is perfect in his role as a softly spoken but highly sceptical Oxford post-grad recluse.

While there were first night jitters, actors were frequently stepping on or cutting in each other’s lines; all are admirable for tackling Stoppard’s dialogue in the first place and pulling it off as one could hear by the constant tittering of the audience.

Ultimately this play examines what the pursuit of knowledge really is; once again I’ll stress – only at Oxford, but isn’t that wonderful?

LGBTYou

0

The 9 minute ‘LGBTYou’ shows the breadth and similarities of their stories. From ‘coming out’ to University, they tell us the comedic highs and worrying lows of being LGBTQ in today’s world.

On your marks, get sets… watch!

0

Despite the amazing availability of television online, at locations both legal and illegal, the box set is making a comeback. The Guardian recently launched a ‘Box Set Club’, and sales keep rising: from the nostalgia of rewatching old Frasier seasons to the excitement of a spanky American drama you’d otherwise have to track down on an obscure Sky channel, we can’t get enough. We want TV on our own terms, and we’re bored of squinting into our undersized laptop screens. Enter the DVD.

In my mind, television is the purest form of procrastination. It is the truest, harking back to an age when we didn’t even know what procrastination was, we just knew that the natural thing to do when returning from school was switch on the kids channel and be sucked in to that unnaturally shiny world.

Now, with the advent of iPlayer, 4oD and other on-demand resources, we can watch snippets of television whenever we like. A Peep Show here, an episode of Africa there; it all addsup. However, there is an alternative to procrastaTV which feels oddly guiltless, and that my friends, is the box set.

Buying a box set is like the procrastinator’s version of putting a downpayment on a Ford Focus. It is a commitment, you have made an investment, and sitting watching 40 hours of West Wing suddenly has a greater meaning. You have a project, much like taking up a new hobby or completing your degree.

It is pre-meditated viewing, designed for those who missed something the first time round, those who’ve read an insightful article about the moral integrity of [insert-gritty-drama-here] or for those who insist on blogging a review of every single episode.

It is no coincidence that their popularity is on the up during a time of Big Important Dramas. They are often American, extremely well crafted and they just look bloody cool. As do their boxes. Whoever thought of spreading out the logo of a show across several DVDs was a genius. It means I have to complete the set. I have to have every series of House.

American drama in particular has dominated in recent years, and its continued success can be seen in the recent revival of shows such as The Sopranos, Six Feet Under and The West Wing on Sky Atlantic. They are still being talked about, compared to, sourced from, and thus people continue to buy them years after their airing.

One of the reasons shiny American drama like The Wire is so engaging is that it’s completely alienating. With highly paced colloquial language, grit-cop jargon and no flashbacks or catch-ups, you’re required be completely engaged for five whole series. These slow-burning, novelistic dramas require a satisfying sort of dedication, meaning the payoff is far greater at the end. It takes a while, but on the upside my inner voice is now that of a Baltimore drug dealer.

It’s not just the old favourites that are having a boxy renaissance; semirecent shows that you might have missed by a whisker are everywhere at the minute. Super-meta-sitcom Community has a huge cult following, appealing to those who like TV and those who are very aware of the fact that they like TV. Equally, shows that haven’t even finished, such as Breaking Bad, are being snapped up quicker than crystal  meth on a street corner. 

For me, buying box sets is part of my television-enthusiast vanity complex, the part that knows every character history of House and watches The Wire without subtitles. I’ll be out of a loan before Trinity.

Corridor Creeper

I’m not sure there is an “at best” corridor creeping situation but I would imagine it usually involves a debauchery-filled weekend away in the country – something you can say a naïve “Oh, what fun!” to, but never actually have to get logistically involved with.  I do know that at worst, it’s on your family holiday and you’ve got the tenuous (and slightly sinister) family friend ‘accidently’ coming into your room and climbing into bed with you.

In the university context, however, corridor creeping takes on a slightly new meaning: as exhaustion takes over after a fun night out, despite having made it all the way to your own college, you still HAVE to stay over at [Person’s] because there is absolutely no chance you can make the extra hundred metres to your own bed. 

Payback is quick for your lazy attitude though, because you inevitably find yourself creeping home at some god-awful hour in the morning when you’ve come to your senses and realised ‘Oh. Dear. God.’

Relieved of the horrendous and lengthy walk of shame that the out-of-college foray throws at you, in-college antics mean that at least you can pretend you’re visiting the vending machine/leaving the library… 

What’s so unfair is that because you’re in the same college as [Person], it’s a bit of struggle to maintain the aloof and stand-offish (yet alluring) act you’d been working on earlier in the evening…

An attempt at a Cinderalla-esque departure from Bridge is shortly followed by “Uh, share a taxi then?”

(Which he then has to pay for because you can’t find your brain, let alone your purse.)

This tends to lead into that suitably awkward point-of-no-return at the Porters’ Lodge where someone mentions that they’ve got [an obscure possession that only an Oxford student would ever own] in their room, and the next thing you know is you’re staggering up five flights of stairs because:

“Oh my god, you do?! I’ve always wanted one!”

(For future reference, to any of you who find yourself in a similar situation I would suggest skipping this awkward viewing and buy whatever it is that you so enthusiastically claim to have always wanted.)

Now that you’ve got yourself into such a compromising position (five flights of stairs up and a hundred metres away from your own bed… not the other kind of compromising position) the ol’ brain starts ticking again and has decided that this wasn’t such a good idea after all and you really need to GET OUT NOW.

Fleeting-beauty-act here we go again. Isn’t there something so mysterious about grabbing your stuff and mumbling something along the lines of: “I’ve just, um, remembered something I have to, um, do (that isn’t you), um, so I’ll, uh, see you around?” 

(Yes, you will see him around. In college. Everyday. Everywhere.)

But before the saga’s over, you’re half-way down the stairs and, “Shiiiiit.”

You left your phone behind. Back we go again, except… was his room 316 or 317?

(It definitely wasn’t 316 – apparently I was turning into the sinister family friend and creeping in on unsuspecting randomers now).

Sometimes it’s better to cut your losses and just leave the phone behind, but if you could remember the last coherent message you sent being “I’m leaving da cloooob with him ;). whoop whoop!” you’d also be pretty hell-bent on its retrieval.

I am pretty certain he thinks I left my phone behind on purpose…

Maybe my nympho subconscious did, I’m not sure.  All I do know is that with all my backing and forthing that evening, I had effectively climbed almost eight flights of stairs… I needed – no, I deserved – a sleepover.

Interview: Sir Trevor Brooking

0

There are few more popular characters in football today than Sir Trevor Brooking. The West Ham and England central midfielder was an exemplary professional during his playing career, and has since enjoyed successful spells as manager, commentator, and now Head of Youth Development for the FA. Like the modernization of Wembley stadium where his office is situated, Brooking is at the helm in the bid to “radically change” English football to make it world-leading once again.

Brooking and his colleagues are now four years into a complete overhaul of the English football structure. “We have now set age appropriate courses. We’ve got three phases of youth modules. It’s absolutely crucial that by the time you are coming out of the under-11s, you’ve got a great touch.” This focus stems from the direction that the world game is going. “The game is very technical, it’s passed quick. You look at all the top sides and all the top international teams, that’s the way the games is going to be played.”

One of the key introductions in recent times has been a more progressive process of development in the pre-teen years. “The real dropout rate in football is 11, 12 and 13 years old, when they are making the transition to 11 v 11. To help the transition we are going to go 9 v 9 from 11 and 12 years old. This is to try and get the pitches reduced and the goal sizes reduced, so that you don’t go from 7 v 7 mini-soccer, which is fantastically popular, to 11 v 11 on a senior pitch where you can hardly see the goal in the distance.” By introducing this policy, it is hoped that youngsters will be able to transfer their ball skills better into the full game.

Over the past few decades, the basic fundamentals of the way that kids play football has significantly altered according to Brooking. “In my generation we’d have kicked the ball around informally. The big difference is that parents want to know where their youngsters are now, and so you have to have sessions that are structured with an adult. We need to make sure between ages 5 to 11 the game is very enthusiastic, fun, enjoyable. not too much talking from coaches, just encourage them.” This will tackle one of the most common issues within the game; the demanding father on the touchline screaming at a group of children is an all too common scene in grassroots football.

Despite all these new concepts, the fruits of the FA’s labour have not been realised yet. “If I’m being honest, it’s mainly been about getting the basis for success. I’d like to have seen in this time this great progression, and producing great players in the younger ages groups. But we are not, that’s why the structure had to be put in place. Now we feel like we are in a position, having got the investment for St. George’s Park, to take it to the next level. We’ve created the framework. I’d like to think in 5 to 10 years time we’ll get the benefits of what we are doing now.”

But the question of whether investment will yield results still hangs over the media coverage of the investment by the FA, Professional Clubs and the government. To answer these critics, Brooking recalls experiences with other nations. “It’s interesting, at a workshop after the European Championships last year we were talking to [Vincente] Del Bosque, the manager of Spain. He was a very humble man who spoke well, and we were talking about the three trophies he’s won, and how it must be great. But he said ‘We’ve taken 30 years to get to this stage, so let’s enjoy it. But if you’d asked us 10 or 20 years ago, we hadn’t won anything for a long, long time.'”

“Then Joachim Loew was interviewed, the manager of Germany and the interviewer said you must be really disappointed that in the last four tournaments you have got to the last four but haven’t managed to win anything. But he said, ‘No, it is not frustrating. Because 10 years ago we were almost in despair, we were not playing well, we were not performing in tournaments. In the attacking third we were almost running out of quality creative attacking players. We have to do something. So 10 years ago, last summer, we invested €50m. Government, the Bundesliga, and the Federation shared the funding to produce a youth development programme to identify youngsters earlier, invest in them, and we are just starting to get the benefits of that. As I sit here and you look at the Bundesliga, we have a lot of 18, 19, 20 year old young German players coming in, playing regular first team football. So to be honest, I’m confident we’ll win something in the next decade.’ He was very positive.” The patience of Brooking to reap long term gains is a refreshing, unusual perspective for an Englishman. “I was sitting there with Roy Hodgson and I said that’s probably where we are now, 10 years away from success.”

In particular, Brooking is keen to allow players to mature before entering the high-pressured arena of international football. He provides a frank analysis of England’s current squad. “We are hoping in the next five years you will see a little bit of improvement in the depth of the talent coming through. At present we sit here with Alex Chamberlain, Danny Welbeck, Jack Wilshere. Those sort of players would probably find it harder in Spain, because there’s not the openings in the senior squad. They play in their actual age groups and come through later. We are at a stage at the moment where we have to fast track those with a little bit of exceptional talent because they can force their way in. What we want to do in the next few years is to have an Under 21s group who are made up of Under 21s, and have to fight their way to get into the seniors. We haven’t got the depth that we should have for a 55 million person population.”

Brooking’s own experiences have undoubtedly shaped the philosophy he has introduced to the FA. “When I was a youngster with Ron Greenwood [then manager] at West Ham, that’s when I understood about the impact of a coach. A coach can have a massive effect on you, good and bad. He said two or three things that just stayed with me throughout my career and I took away and practised.”

“One, he used to work on us receiving the ball sideways on. What I hate to see is when someone is trying to dislocate their kneecap by playing with their wrong foot. Against the better teams you get found. The other thing he always said to me was to have pictures in your mind. If he snapped his fingers and got you to shut your eyes, we were expected to be able to tell him where everyone was within 30 yards of you. If you watch Frank Lampard and Steven Gerrard they’re really good at this, always turning their head. When I was 3 or 4, my dad told me it is useful to kick with both feet. I used to have a little terrace house with two drainpipes and I used to knock it between there with my weaker left foot. Little things like that helped my progression massively. When you started playing games it came instinctively, and no one could close or shut you down.”

However, Brooking genuinely believes that the distractions are much greater in the modern day. “It’s knowing what you need to do but then having the enthusiasm to go away and get better. I didn’t think I was going to be a professional footballer, but I just loved football and wanted to be as good as I could so I practised. But in my day we had black and white BBC One and that was about it, we didn’t have 50 channels and computer games and everything to distract us. Today you’ve got to make football fun and enjoyable otherwise they won’t do it and they will just relive it in the computer game.”

An important point usually raised in the discussion of youth development is the need for genuine footballing role models. Brooking has a rare sympathy for the current crop of players. “I grew up in an era when there were a lot of great role models and a lot of bad ones, but you never had quite the media coverage that you do now. Footballers now have to understand they have the celebrity status that we didn’t in our era. A film star or a pop star was probably under a bigger spotlight than a footballer. But now with the money involved in football, they have become almost the equivalent of the headline-makers of anyone. They’ve got to understand that, and the money they earn makes them a target.” Extra interview and media training in academies under the EPPP (Elite Player Performance Plan) is designed to help this.

An even bigger issue in many peoples’ minds is that the Premier League seems to be falling behind the standard of other top leagues in Europe. Brooking sees otherwise: “It’s got some fantastic benefits and some big challenges. I think it is the most exciting league. Germany and Spain are really technically fantastic leagues, and you can debate that how you like, but I think the pace of the game and the crowds and the drama is special. Especially in the last couple of years, you couldn’t have written the script of the Man City winner against QPR, you’ll never get anything better than that.”

Finally, one fundamental accomplishment is hoped to be achieved as the culmination of this hard work. “As we sit here, it’s pretty difficult if close to impossible to win international tournaments or get in the final on a regular basis if you’ve only got 30% English players playing in your starting line ups every week. We’ve got to, like Spain, get over 70% in starting line ups in the Premier League. I’m not for imposing quotas, it’s up to us to raise the bar.” With this no excuses attitude, maybe within a decade England will be able to return to the very pinnacle of world football.

Review: Black Mirror

0

The increased online presence we all now engage in is hard to avoid. If you wanted to, you could probably track the average Facebook or Twitter user’s day-to-day life to a degree where you remembered their whereabouts better than they did – and yet it’s hard to say that you’d ‘know’ the person any better than if you spoke to them for five minutes face to face.

Our online ‘personalities’ and their legacy is the subject of the return of Charlie Brooker’s Black Mirror this week, and it’s good to see that the efficacy of the format hasn’t been dulled by the success of the first run: if anything, its dystopian vision of a future dominated by the intrusive technology that we now take for granted has sharpened.

Though relatively simple, Be Right Back delivered a taut, clear and effective hour of television, raising complex questions about our relationship with social media and, by extension, one another. This episode imagines a world in which a lost loved one could be approximated by their online presence – tweets, videos, Facebook photos, Skype calls – and examines the fallout from such a decision.

The early stages of this system don’t feel so far from reality – a sort of simulated Artificial Intelligence already exists on phones, and even the idea of online presence after death already exists (in the form of the faintly sinister liveon.org). As the plot progresses, though, things become more outlandish – the technology seems to take something of a leap – and initially I was concerned that this might be implausible. Yet the early stages of the premise were close enough to life to allow for a little leeway in its development, and
grounded performances from Hayley Atwell and Domnhall Gleeson as
couple Martha and Ash help to sell the more sci-fi elements of the plot.

There was no violence or shadowy conspiracy determined to use the online information for its own ends. The action was largely limited to a rural cottage, and contained within a small cast: less about the big shocks, Be right Back brought a build up of unease as the emotionless approximation of the dead Ash subtly tried to mimic his late self’s mannerisms and speech patterns, in a manner that constantly wavered on a line between sweet and deeply
unsettling.

Overall, Be Right Back is a great little traditional science-fiction parable
that overcomes the drawbacks of the genre by grounding the story firmly in a human interaction that we can all relate to. You can fully expect these
same sentiments to be expressed again by my robot simulation hours after my death.