Under Pressure: Oxford Fashion Gala
About a year ago now, I came across a Cherwell piece on the origins of the word ‘diva’. Before even reading, I texted my friends: ‘Bet you there’s no explicit reference to its roots in black queer history’ Unsurprisingly, I was right. Beyonce is mentioned, as is queer culture, yet its expl
25:00
25:00 We are told what we see is real. We are told not to question who arranged the seeing. Here is an ordinary week. I wake to an alarm, optimise the hours, hit the deadlines, the achievements, and begin again. Short are our 8 week terms; fast is the pace. We are promised […]
Artist Spotlight: George Robson
Despite my naïve confidence that the heatwave would surely have broken by the day of our interview, George Robson and I sat under a blistering midday sun to discuss his work as co-founder of Crazy Child Film Productions. Lounging leisurely in the Magdalen gardens, I was struck by the rather serendi
The Isis On: Pride (pt 1)
Leave Your Boyfriend to Hoover the House While You’re at the Pride Parade It’s common courtesy: you wouldn’t bring your boss. Your Bible. Your gun. And it’s not that your gay friends are too sensitive. He doesn’t need to be at the picnic you didn’t think to bring paper cups and pl
On the ‘para’ (পাড়া)
My childhood summers unfolded between the homes of my maternal and paternal grandparents in West Bengal, India. Each sojourn began in Kolkata, with legs sticking to the hot leather of an un-airconditioned taxi as we hurtled past blue-and-white flyovers crowded with towering billboards—‘Didi,’
Under Review: Completely Bloody Incoherent
Despite what its title might tell you, Completely Bloody Incoherent unravels itself with impressive lucidity. Splinters Production’s latest play refuses to resign itself to a single category, embracing fragmentation to fully capture the disorienting overlap between who we are and what we creat
Artist Spotlight: Nyla Thomas
The heatwave has overstayed its welcome in Oxford. The stone that usually holds the city in a kind of grey composure is bright, hot to the touch, as I dodge the swarms of tourists on the High Street. I find relief, and Nyla, in Magdalen’s cloisters. I suggest Addison’s Walk and she agrees. W