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+ Literary gift guide + Top ten alternative Christmas tracks + Make your own hot festive drink

All wrapped up

indigo


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Kate Wilkinson (dept. Sraddha Venkataraman) - indigo@palatinate.org.uk

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INDIGO

3 BOOKS Out of gift ideas? We provide an indispensable literary gift guide 4 & 5 FEATURES Christmas trivia galore and an overview of those perennial festive adverts 6 MUSIC Top ten alternative Christmas music picks and a bit of classic Wham! 7 STAGE How does our writer rate a woman’s portrayal of Hamlet? 8 , 9 & 1 0 FASHION From winter furs to party frocks, Fashion have Christmas wrapped up

1 1 FILM & TV Get animated with our favourite Christmas TV specials 1 2 T R AV EL An alternative winter night out at Sunderland Greyhound stadium 1 3 FOOD & DRINK Make your own winter spice coffee

1 4 V I SUAL ARTS We review a selection of current exhibitions 15 C R E ATIVE WRITING Read an extract from a short story set in a Venetian winter For more arts and lifestyle articles please visit www.palatinate.org.uk www.facebook.com/palindigo @palatindigo Cover photo by Venus Loi Illustrations by Mariam Hayat

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s an international student, I’m not sure I know what Christmas really is. I know the story behind it, yes, but apart from that my knowledge comes only from the holiday-themed episodes of television shows and anecdotes that my friends (after deploring the lack of a Christmas jumper in my closet) earnestly share with me. Is it that frantic last minute scramble for the perfect gift (ideas for which can be found on page 3)? Is it wearing a red and white cap and laughing over mulled wine? Is it to overspend and overeat, and then to oversleep the next day? Is it attending the Christmas service in the Cathedral, or simply listening to carols and songs (alternatives to which are suggested on page 6)? Is it standing by the big tree in the market square, sipping warm orange hot chocolate in a Santa themed cup from Costa (or the homemade variation on page 13)? Is it walking down to the Gala for a screening of ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’? Is it spending hours getting ready for a ball at college? Maybe it’s reading cheesy editorials like this one, or equally clichéd rants against the rampant consumerism we experience during this season. I’m going back to Mumbai for the holidays soon, so I don’t have much time left to find out. I’m not too sure what Christmas is, but I do know what it isn’t: escapable. Even a Christmas novice like me can’t fail to feel the general merriment on a Saturday stroll about town, or waiting in a line at Tesco with Mariah Carey singing in the background, or anywhere, to be honest. Maybe that’s what Christmas is. It’s a feeling. It’s that feeling you find everywhere of being a part of something that’s bigger than what we otherwise belong to - be it a family, a class in a lecture hall, or a college. We hope you have a very merry Christmas and splendid New Year, and see you in 2015! SV

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s the weeks dwindle, essay deadlines approach, society Christmas dinners are booked, and before you know it we’re at Indigo’s last issue of term. An excess of parties, balls, and general piss-ups makes this a time to work hard but play harder. In the words of American country musician Gary Allan, ‘let’s be naughty and save Santa the trip’. Or maybe save your excess for New Year’s Eve. They say that as you get older 31st December replaces Christmas in importance. For me at least, this isn’t true. I’ve nothing against New Year’s- it’s just a very unreliable source of joy. The year before last I spent the night alone, babysitting, watching a midnight airing of a Simon Amstell stand-up show. This is a man whose comedy derives from angst and loneliness. In the end, it was actually a far less depressing night than I’d expected. I didn’t even notice the turn of midnight and was too busy laughing at jokes about being lonely to feel lonely myself. From one extreme to another, last year I spent New Year’s with friends in a nightclub. Again, a fun experience but not one I’m fussed about repeating. Wherever you happen to be and whatever you are doing this festive season, Indigo wishes you a very merry Christmas and a happy New Year! KW

INDIGO EDITOR Kate Wilkinson

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DEPUTY INDIGO EDITOR Sraddha Venkataraman BOOKS EDITORS Atifa Jiwa Florianne Humphrey CREATIVE WRITING EDITOR Celeste Yeo FASHION EDITORS Jessica Ng Megan Magee FEATURES EDITORS Francesca Jaworska Zosia Eyres (deputy) FILM & TV EDITORS Jonathan Peters Caroline France (deputy) FOOD & DRINK EDITORS Anisha Mohan Tanya Birkett (deputy) MUSIC EDITORS Anastasia Symecko Will Throp (deputy) STAGE EDITOR Amy Price TRAVEL EDITORS Oliver Collard Naoise Murphy (deputy) VISUAL ARTS EDITOR Frances Marsh WRITERS

Atifa Jiwa Florianne Humphrey Lucy Rahim Holly Bancroft David Cotter Patrick Joseph Brennan Roy Manuell Callum Kenny Jonathan Peters Nell Lewis Katie Allen Abby Warwick Imii Mace Ruth Townsend Kimberly Ong Ottoline Spearman PHOTOGRAPHY / ILLUSTRATION Mariam Hayat Lara Salam Venus Loi Nell Lewis Anisha Mohan Ottoline Spearman

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Atifa Jiwa and Florianne Humphrey - books@palatinate.org.uk

BOOKS

a literary gift guide

On the first day of Christmas Atifa and Florianne gave to me... a pile of books beneath the Christmas tree A book to give your... Boyfriend Tequila Mockingbird by Tim Federle Who said bookworms just sit in their rooms and read? They mix literary cocktails of course, which they drink whilst reading in their rooms. Although the puns are on the same level as those time-worn dad jokes, Tequila Mockingbird is the perfect book for your boyfriend to add a splash of literary intellect to pre-drinks. There is a tipple for everyone, Photograph: Running Press from ‘Drinks for Dames,’ which includes Bridget Jones’ Daiquiri, A Rum of One’s Own, A Cocktail of Two Cities, and Romeo and Julep, to ‘Gulps for Guys,’ with Decline and Fall Down, The Lime of the Ancient Mariner, The Moonshine and Sixpence, and a personal favourite, One Hundred Beers of Solitude. Give an English Literature student an excuse to drink more alcohol by telling them that reading these books is almost like studying anyway.

A book to give your...Mum A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf Does your mum really need another cookery or childcare book? She’s a twenty first century woman who should be beyond domestic instruction. Replace the mundane recipe on how to make a roast dinner (even though it may benefit you) with Woolf’s extended essay from the idea that, “a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.” This feminist Photograph: Penguin text breaks through a literary tradition dominated by patriarchy, discussing whether women are capable or even free to produce high quality work. Although your mum may not be a writer, she will certainly find inspiration and enlightenment.

A book to give your...Grandpa The Grandpas’ Book by John Gribble Although your grandpa may be handling his role in the family with exceptional ease, a little advice never hurt anyone, and this book offers just that. The book covers how to recognise a grandpa, - “when you fall down, you wonder what else you can do while you’re down Photograph: Scholastic there” - coping with teen traumas, preparing for retirement, what grandpas mean to say, and famous grandpas, including Winston Churchill, Mahatma Gandhi and Grandpa Simpson. There’s even advice to give grandchildren, such as “if your sister hits you, don’t hit her back. They always catch the second person.” Most importantly, the manual helps grandpas to understand the most confusing aspect of modern life: technology.

A book to give your... Dad The Establishment by Owen Jones Owen Jones tackles a touchy subject in his description of the ‘establishment’; from the lobbies of Westminster to newsrooms, boardrooms, and the trading rooms of Fleet Street, he launches an attack on Britain’s governing class and makes a (somewhat desperate) plea for democracy. Owen claims that behind our democracy lurks a shadowy network of men in suits who Photograph: Allen Lane wield huge amounts of power and yet are entirely unaccountable for their actions. Called “pedestrian” by The Telegraph yet hailed as some kind of exposé of British elitism in The Guardian, all that I can guarantee is that this book will probably infuriate your father as much as it informs him.

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Word of the Week

(For the post-Christmas feast) Farctate: The state of being stuffed with food

A book to give your...Sister My True Love Gave to Me by Stephanie Perkins

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me… one of the most beautiful collections of YA Christmas stories. This features twelve gorgeously romantic stories set during the festive period by some of our most talented youth-fiction writers, including David Levithan, Holly Black, and Gayle Forman. Filled Photograph: MacMillan Publishers to the brim with twinkling Christmas lights, snowflakes, and warm mugs of hot chocolate, this is the perfect book for a cosy evening by the fire. No doubt that this all sounds a little cliché and I’m hardly going to deny that, but if you can’t justify reading adorable festive stories at Christmas, then when can you?

A book to give your...Self A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Follow in the footsteps of Scrooge and be a little bit selfish this Christmas. Despite what you might think, Christmas is not all about giving, so treat yourself to this old and well-known classic that has significantly influenced our ideas about the festive season and is inevitably wheeled out every year for a retelling. The story appears in a new, Photograph: Penguin sumptuous, and delightful clothbound edition designed by Coralie Bickford-Smith for Penguin. This beautiful edition features appendices on A Christmas Carol, The Haunted Man, an essay on Dickens, and The Arabian Nights. It is the perfect book to treat yourself to this Christmas.


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Francesca Jaworska (dept.Zosia Eyres) - features@palatinate.org.uk

F EAT U R E S

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20 things you never knew about Christmas... Lucy Rahim provides all you need in Christmas trivia so swot up- this time you might win that festive pub quiz 1. US scientists have calculated that Santa would have to visit 822 homes a second to deliver all the world’s presents on Christmas Eve, travelling at 650 miles a second.

country’s unemployed. The pudding was mixed in the Royal Albert Hall and members of the public were encouraged to come and help with the stirring.

2. The figure of Father Christmas originated with the kindly and generous Saint Nicholas of Myra (modern day Turkey) who lived in the 4th century. St Nicholas’ feast day, 6th December, is still a national holiday in several European countries.

8. Eight million real Christmas trees are sold annually in the UK.

3. Mince pies have their origin in Medieval times. The original mince pie was extremely large (no bite-sized portions like today) and contained chopped beef or mutton, suet, nuts, spices and fruit. We owe our meatless mince pies to the Victorians. 4. 75% of us are genetically programmed to dislike Brussels sprouts. The infamous yuletide vegetable contains a chemical to which a certain variant of the TAS2R38 gene reacts, thus causing an unpleasant, bitter taste. Apparently it is an evolutionary trait to protect us from toxins in plants that often taste better - the perfect excuse to never have to eat them again. 5. In honour of the journey of the Magi, Christmas pudding is traditionally stirred from East to West. 6. Each year, every member of staff in the Royal Household receives a Christmas pudding as a gift from the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh. 7. In 1931, Edward Prince of Wales ordered the creation of a 10-tonne version of the Royal Household’s Christmas pudding to be given to the

9. The British Christmas Tree Growers Association holds a an annual competition for the best tree. The Champion Tree is placed outside Downing Street. 10. The needles from Christmas trees are edible and a good source of vitamins A and C. You can steep them in water to make tea or use them to flavour soups and cocktails. 11. The first Christmas tree decorations were apples. This is because in the Christian calendar, the 24th of December is the feast day of Adam and Eve. 12. Christmas trees became popular in England following the publication of an image of the Royal family posing around their tree at Windsor in 1848. 13. In 2011 it was reported that the UK throws away 226,800 miles of wrapping paper each year at Christmas– enough to be wrapped around the world 9 times.

15. Today the Christmas cracker may signify the triumph of terrible humour, but it started out as a chic, romantic gift. Invented in 1847 by Tom Smith, the cracker began as a twist of tissue paper containing sugared almonds, with a love motto or topical witty maxim enclosed. 16. In remote parts of the Czech republic, people still put bowls of garlic underneath the dinner table on Christmas day, to repel the evil spirits that conspire against the Holy Spirit of the Christian faith that is said to rise during Christmas. 17. Over half of the tracks in the Top 30 most played Christmas songs are from the 1980s. 18. The term Boxing Day originates from the 19th century, when Christmas Boxes containing gifts and alms were presented to the poor. 19. The first Christmas card was created in 1843 by John Callcott Horsley. 20. The average Briton burns over 1500 calories during the Christmas shopping period. That’s 18% of the calories we supposedly ingest during the big day itself.

14. The tree in Trafalgar Square has been an annual gift from the City of Oslo since 1947 to thank the UK for its help during WW2.

Photo courtesy of John Sullivan, via Flickr

Photo courtesy of diamond geezer via Flickr


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Francesca Jaworska (dept.Zosia Eyres) - features@palatinate.org.uk

F EAT U R E S

#winning at Christmas?

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Holly Bancroft gives her verdict on this year’s Christmas adverts It’s official. It’s Christmas time. If you’ve spent the whole of October and November telling your friends they’re not allowed to sing Christmas carols or look at the Christmas section in Tesco then it’s time to submit and accept the inevitable; the countdown has begun. If you’ve not been living under a large rock you’ll have noticed that Christmas adverts have once again exploded onto our televisions. For big retailers like John Lewis, Debenhams and Coca-Cola, Christmas is an opportunity to integrate worthy themes, like friendship or family, into their advertising (as well as try to sell us stuff) and ultimately their adverts are a beautiful reminder of why everyone should really love Christmas. The Sainsbury’s advert is a respectful nod to the First World War centenary as they collaborated with the Royal British Legion to commemorate the Christmas Truce of 1914. Set on a snowy Christmas Eve, Silent Night is heard being tentatively sung from the German trenches. The singing rises from both sides of no man’s land as the British join in, while a cinematic shot of a robin perching on barbed wire and then flying off hints at the little humanity left on the battlefield. The music swells until one young British soldier, Jenkins, rises from the trenches, his hands in the air. He is followed by Otto from the German side and peace is held for Christmas day as the soldiers from the warring sides interact. In the advert, this is shown by a game of football. The truce is broken by distant sounds of warfare and Otto and Jenkins say goodbye. When they both return to the trenches they each find the other has slipped a gift into his pocket, a chocolate bar and a biscuit. ‘Christmas is for sharing’ is the tag line. The advert is incredibly arresting and beautiful. Although some have accused it of glamourising warfare, in terms of winning over the Christmas market Sainsbury’s have brought their A-game. Not only does it tug on the heart strings, but the chocolate bar is on sale in their shops with profits going to Royal British Legion. Contending for the title of best Christmas advert to rival Sainsbury’s is of course, the big daddy of

Christmas time, John Lewis. Last year’s advert from them was the unforgettable Bear and the Hare ‘Give someone a Christmas they’ll never forget’ which

we see family members competing to get the best present, even finding a unicorn brought anyone who has a heart to the edge of tears as the Bear rose from hibernation to join his best friend for his first ever Christmas. This had over 14 million views on Youtube and gave Lily Allen a Christmas number one so it seems pretty hard to top. But John Lewis are the champions of the cute Christmas campaign, and they continue to deliver.

T h i s year’s follows a young boy and his best friend Monty, a live penguin. The penguin gets lonely in the human world and on Christmas day he meets his new female companion. The penguins turn out to be toys after all, reviving memories of teddies you were attached to as a youngster. ‘Give someone the Christmas they’ve been dreaming of’ is the tagline. Although the soundtrack doesn’t seem set to top the charts, Tom Odell’s cover of ‘Real Love’ is a perfect

fit. It has to be said that the most successful adverts have the best music, something that was proven unequivocally in Thinkbox’s advert Harvey and Rabbit with the song ‘f.r.i.e.n.d.s’. This is something missing from Mulberry’s Christmas advert as it is completely silent, but their approach is more of a comical one. We see family members competing to get a girl the best Christmas presents, even going to the efforts of finding a unicorn (impressive). Inevitably the grandmother wins by giving her a Mulberry bag, with the tag line ‘#winning’. It has to be said that the comical approach is a strong one. The first Post Office Christmas advert for five years was aired this year and features Robert Webb, Pixie Lott and Jim Carter. With a mix of over the top everything, unnecessary rhyming and a gallon of enthusiasm it works well as Robert Webb goes through the workings of a Lapland inspired Post Office, explaining Christmas offers. The tag line fits the best out of all of the Christmas adverts ‘Get Christmas all wrapped up at the Post Office’. If it sometimes seems like everyone’s taking Christmas too seriously, a light-hearted laugh at ourselves can do the trick. Finally, if you’re looking for the feelgood factor then look no further than Coca-Cola. They have gone with consistency in advertising and stuck with ‘Holidays are coming’. There is something amazingly magical about the lit up Coca-Cola convoy travelling round the country, though I still don’t understand how Coco-Cola have managed to capitalise on Christmas when they are marketing a drink best served very cold, perhaps more suited to a beach than snowy night. I suppose it only demonstrates the power of advertising. This year they added t o their campaign with ‘Make someone happy’ which has the same old-time feel as ‘Holidays are Coming’. Even if you’re determined to remain cynical about a commercialised Christmas, the notion of giving to others is a dominant one and one that should ring through in Christmas adverts. I’m sold. Merry Christmas! Illustration by Mariam Hayat


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Anastasia Symecko (dept. Will Throp) - music@palatinate.org.uk

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MUSIC

the alternative christmas top 10

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David Cotter

Bored of Band Aid? Sick of Slade? Does the thought of more ‘Wizzard or Wham!’ make you weep?! Well, this Christmas, Palatinate takes a closer look at ten of the best ‘alternative’ Christmas tracks of all time.

and Angus Young’s energetic electric-guitar riffs ‘n’ licks. “I want the woman in red / with her body on my bed”…there’s no deeper meaning to what this song is about.

10 – R2-D2 We Wish You A Merry Christmas -

on The Who’s hugely influential 1969 rock opera, Tommy. The opera is a sad tale of a deaf, dumb, and blind boy, describing how his parents feel Christmas is a waste of time for him.

Jon Bon Jovi (1980) We told you this was going to be alternative! From the 1980 album ‘Christmas in the Stars’, this is one of nine solely Star-Warsrelated songs, all comedic and all with similarly potent titles such as ‘What Can You Get a Wookiee for Christmas (When He Already Owns a Comb?)’. We’ve chosen this because it’s notable for being the first professional recording by Jon Bon Jovi.

9 – Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapo-

lis - Tom Waits (1978) Tom Waits’ song wasn’t written for Christmas. It’s been described as a ‘laconic first-person sketch’ which narrates a prostitute’s letter to a man named Charlie talking about pregnancy, lies and prison. But Waits’ motivation for writing the song (being stood in the freezing cold, watching passing police cars with officers exclaiming ‘Merry Xmas’ before he got caught in the middle of a “pimp war between two kids in Chinchilla coats”) places this song firmly on our list.

8 – Mistress for Christmas - AC/DC (1990)

Number 8 does what it says on the tin. AC/DC deliver their signature hard-rock sound, complete with lead singer Brian Johnson’s screaming vocals

7 – Christmas - The Who (1969) Christmas features

6 – Merry Christmas (I Don’t Want To Fight Tonight) - Ramones (1989) A sweet song about peaceful Christmas time sung in a lethargic punk-rock vein. A deep-rooted dichotomy if ever there was one, but strangely uplifting nevertheless.

5 – Christmas Time (Don’t Let The Bells End) -

The Darkness (2003) The Darkness mention the usual cheerful Christmas festivities, but Justin Hawkins’ trademark falsettos also bring a strong level of parody, which he’s been quoted as being rather pleased about - “we managed to get bellend into a Christmas song without it getting banned!”

4 – A Spaceman Came Travelling - Chris de Burgh (1976) Chris de Burgh’s classic was originally a flop and failed to even get on the charts. However, the success of ‘Lady In Red’ saw it reissued, and worldwide notoriety shortly ensued. As Chris said himself, “it’s much better to have a regular recurring song than a hit for three weeks.”

3 – Fairytale of New York - The Pogues (feat.

Kirsty MacColl) (1987) Despite being an Irish folk style ballad, by a Celtic punk band from London, Fairytale of New York is very often cited as the best Christmas song of all time. “You scum bag / You maggot / You cheap lousy faggot” may not seem cheery, but blimey is this song festive!

2 – Christmas Wrapping - The Waitresses (1981)

Told from the perspective of a busy single woman adamant not to participate in the exhausting Christmas period, Christmas Wrapping is probably best labelled as ‘No ho ho’! Described as “fizzing, funky dance-around-the-Christmas-tree music for Brooklyn hipsters,” the syncopated guitar riffs, swinging brass section, and humour hidden in every line makes this one of the best Christmas songs ever.

1 – Baby, It’s Cold Outside - Sharon Van Etten

and Rufus Wainwright (2012) Written in 1944. Covered by Dean Martin, Ray Charles, James Taylor, Seth MacFarlane, Idina Menzel and Michael Bublé. Made heavenly by Sharon Van Etten and Rufus Wainwright. Sharon’s elegant voice wrapped in rasp and sorrow entwined with Rufus’ resonant and ravenously operatic combine to create something lusciously longing, flirtatiously festive and ethereal in every sense of the word.

viva la festive revolution

Patrick Joseph Brennan

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oscow 1917. Berlin 1989. Christmas 2009. Sometimes revolutions are organised, swiftly executed, and completely out of the blue. The latter is of course referring to the internet-facilitated, frustration-fuelled ascent of Rage Against The Machine’s ‘Killing In The Name Of’ to the top of the Christmas singles chart five years ago. 2009 was the year that saw the bookies’ favourite Joe McElderry, winner of that years X-Factor show, pushed into second place by the anarchic nu-metal classic. Having hogged the singles chart crown for many a previous Christmas, the masses had decided to put a stop to The X-Factor, and launched a Fa-

Image: Viktor Hanacek

cebook campaign with the sole purpose of toppling Simon Cowell’s brutal regime. Enough was enough. Perhaps not quite in the spirit of Christmas, but definitely in the spirit of revolution. The public saw the inevitable unfolding, and they didn’t like it: they saw the same pattern of manufactured, money-grabbing slush-fest reaching for the big time with its repulsive claws, and responded with a ploy that only the internet generation could ever have pulled off. RATM’s flagship track was the natural choice, with lyrics as blunt as “fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!” Its content, power and attitude were written with exactly this kind of stunt in mind, and with this

little Christmas victory, the song turned from a simple, angry rally cry, to a self-fulfilling prophecy. So just remember that a Christmas number one doesn’t have to be some boy-band crooning about making love in a snowstorm, or whatever it is the kids are on about nowadays – it can represent so much more than that. In this case, a victory for our collective annoyance at the state of the music industry, a triumph of taste over blandness, and a conquest of art over profit. And, best of all, a nice satisfying little blow for Simon Cowell’s ego.

back to basics - Wham! A

s soon as those distant synths come padding through your well-heated livingroom, with George Michael’s deep yearning groan bursting through their cosy exterior, you know Christmas has arrived. We all know it’s a horrific song, don’t get me wrong, but Wham!’s masterpiece nevertheless holds an emotive power over anyone willing to give themselves away to memory or regret. The thing is, ‘Last Christmas’ has every right to be despised – it’s a 4 chord

wonderland, embracing and perhaps even flaunting the classic, repetitive verse-chorus-verse-chorus structure until you almost forget you’re still listening. Yet it somehow manages to sway the right side of average, refusing to speak of putting tinsel up around the house or snowmen boogying on the front lawn. Big George produces a heart-wrenching 4:30 ballad, utterly shameless but then again, so is the Christmas season. Wham! have simply given us a relatable ex-

Roy Manuell

cuse to think about that “someone special” as we open our curtains on Christmas morning, instead of the unrealistic prospect of Rudolph hitting fifth gear over the Viaduct. The song epitomises the 80s, an era of generally embarrassing music, yet Last Christmas somehow succeeds in convincing our generation that we were born into the wrong decade as it floods our parents with nostalgic memories of drunken slow-dances at the work Christmas party. No shame in rating this tune.


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Amy Price - stage@palatinate.org.uk

STAGE

crossdressing shakespeare

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Callum Kenny discusses how successfully Shakespeare’s male protagonists can be portrayed by women, inspired by the recent controversy of Maxine Peake’s performances as Hamlet.

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ross-gendering and cross-dressing are an integral part of Shakespeare’s dramatic vision and the history of his plays. In contemporary Jacobean theatre there would have been a young man strutting across the stage in the image of the most iconic and sexualised woman in history, Cleopatra; in her words “I shall see/ Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness/ I’th’ posture of a whore.” Equally, in ‘As You Like It’ the ambiguity of gen-

“If women do not do these classic speeches justice, then traditionally neither have men.” dered casting is brought to the forefront of the drama through the absurdity of men playing women playing men. Gender can often be described as fluid, and the movement between genders suggests that it is not a binding or definitive aspect of character, a feature which typifies many of the bard’s works. It seems that Shakespeare himself, therefore, would hardly have argued that a woman could not do his momentous male protagonists justice, a suggestion raised by the critics of Maxine Peake’s performance of Hamlet, currently running at the Royal Exchange in Manchester. Crossgendered casting provides female actresses with an opportunity to really explore those nuances and subtleties of character with which Shakespeare does not always provide his female parts. With notable exceptions, such as Porche, Cleopatra and arguably Lady Macbeth, Shakespeare’s women are often denied the stage-time, depth and emotional range of their male counterparts. The iconic parts: Othello, Henry V, Richard III and, of course, Hamlet, are reserved for men. This injustice has therefore prompted a revival of all-female companies tackling Shakespeare, such as Phyllida Lloyd’s Henry IV, or even, closer to home, Thrust Stage’s all-female Henry V here in Durham, with the phenomenally talented Georgie Franklin taking on the eponymous role. There are very few truly career-defining parts for women in theatre generally, and as such, it is understandable that cross-gender casting has gained popularity. However, many of Peake’s detractors, who criticise her performance on the grounds of her gender, appear blithely unaware of the rich tradi-

tion of gender-swapping in theatre. Hamlet has been played numerous times by women, from Frances de la Tour in 1979 to Sarah Bernhardt in 1900. It is an obvious choice for female performers in many ways, as Shakespeare never asserts a stereotypically masculine character. Hamlet is a thoughtful intellectual and he operates on a cognitive level; consequently he is much more of a gender neutral or ‘genderless’ figure. He spurns romantic and familial ties and as such, the question of sexuality, though by no means absent, can be carefully negotiated and de-eroticised if required. The most impressive and problematic soliloquies such as “to be or not to be,” or “what a rogue and peasant slave am I!” are not gender proscriptive, but require versatility and flexibility between contemplative melancholy and anguished rage, which can be achieved by man or woman. If women do not do these classic

speeches justice, then traditionally, neither have men. Unfortunately, Shakespeare’s plays are revered by the masses and have been exalted to stand on a pedestal. They have been approached from a multitude of angles and played by everyone who is anyone in the big wide world of theatre. Every reader of the

play has their own vision of their perfect Hamlet, and if Peake did not hit the mark for some people, then this is unsurprising, because it is impossible to measure up to the expectation and hype generated by this most famous of parts. Only last year, Jonathan Slinger was slated for his interpretation of the Danish Prince, accused by the Telegraph of having “a reductive view of the character that becomes decidedly wearing.” This is just one example of someone who has taken on the role and been defeated in the process, a story that is not uncommon. You need only look at the quality of female actors to know that women have just as good a chance of giving outstanding performances as Shakespeare’s male protagonists, and vice versa. We must not forget, for example, the critically acclaimed all-male production of Twelfth Night at The Globe in 2012, with Mark Rylance playing O l i v i a opposite Stephen Fry’s Malvolio. This interpretation looked back at contemporary Jacobean strategies of making cross-dressing believable as opposed to farcical or grotesque. As such, Rylance relied upon Olivia’s wit and intelligence as opposed to physicality or appearance, to general approval, and there was more emphasis placed upon Shakespeare’s wonderful script and the textual intention than is commonly the case. Perhaps this is the real joy of cross-gendered casting; it provides an opportunity to look at Shakespeare’s most famous works in a new, fresh light, giving a new significance to the written word and offering new interpretations. Ultimately, to argue whether women can play the role of Shakespeare’s iconic creations is to argue a moot point. It might be more astute to ask whether any actor, regardless of gender, can fully realise the beauty, subtlety and nuance of what is on the page. Many have tried, many have failed and some have succeeded, but perhaps it is clear that regardless of the outcome, each fresh attempt lends something new and exciting to our understanding of our national literature. Photographs:Jonathen Keenen Illustration: Lara Salam


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Jessica Ng and Megan Magee - fashion@palatinate.org.uk

FASHION

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all wrapped up Tis the season to be jolly and nothing quite says joy to us than getting dressed to the nines in festive glamour. This party season indulge in sumptuous furs, beautiful cocktail dresses and dapper, printed bow ties and pocket squares. Welcome to Christmas in Durham...

Boys accessories courtesy of Woven, Girls clothes courtesy of Miss Selfridge in BHS.


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Jessica Ng and Megan Magee - fashion@palatinate.org.uk

FASHION

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Models: ChloĂŤ Kealey, Fran Weil, Lydia Woodward, Robert Gibson and Will Phillips.

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Jessica Ng & Megan Magee - fashion@palatinate.org.uk

FASHION

Photographer: Venus Loi, Make-Up: Megha Mittal, Hair: Emily Sharman

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Jonathan Peters (Caroline France - deputy) - film@palatinate.org.uk

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F I L M & TV

21st century christmas classics Jonathan Peters reviews three great animated TV specials

Community - ‘Abed’s Uncontrollable Christmas’ ‘The meaning of Christmas is the idea that Christmas has meaning. And it can mean whatever we want’

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ommunity, conceived by the twisted mind of creator Dan Harmon, is possibly the most underrated comedy series of the 21st Century. Ostensibly following the lives of seven mature students at a community college, most episodes break radically from a traditional sitcom format – one week the show might be presented in 8-bit animation, whilst the next week will feature explosive mayhem directed by an established action movie helmer. The best instalments use those format changes to comment on issues plaguing the characters, resulting in a show that’s weird, hi-

larious, but also refreshingly dark in places. ‘Abed’s Uncontrollable Christmas’ is one of the show’s standout episodes. Abed (Danny Pudi) arrives in college one day to find everyone animated in Claymation. The rest of the study group worry about his state of mind, but decide to indulge in his fantasy to discover the root of the problem. What follows is a exquisitely fantastical journey to the North Pole. Revealed slowly over the episode is a strong, poignant reason why Abed sees the world in this way. The inventive visual comedy is supported by a strong emotional core. The show reaches a sincere conclusion, addressing the loneliness that can be-

come prevalent during a holiday season, whilst also placing a strong emphasis on being together with loved ones.

The Simpsons - ‘Holidays of Future Passed’

‘It’s a Wonderful Life is about to start! I wonder what my life would have been like if I’d never seen that movie…’

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e’re now at the point where The Simpsons has spent longer in perennial decline than it did as the absolute

greatest show on TV. However, it still manages to knock it out of the park once or twice a season (see last year’s Lego crossover ‘Brick Like Me), providing pleasant respite for its devoted fans. ‘Holidays of Future Passed’ is a recent classic; originally intended as the series finale if the show were to be cancelled, the episode takes us thirty years into the future, where Homer and Marge decide to have the kids all back under one roof for Christmas dinner. Unlike a lot of modern Simpsons episodes, the jokes come thick and fast, and most of them hit. The future references are all good fun – strangling your child is now illegal, ever since they passed ‘Homer’s Law’, whilst Google has enslaved half of the world, but it’s ‘still a damn fine search engine.’ The animators also have a lot fun designing

Futurama-fied versions of staple Springfield locations (the Kwik-E-Mark gets a District Nine-esque makeover) and characters (Ralph Wiggum: ‘I got cloneded!’). Most importantly, the episode has a lot of heart. Versions of future Bart in previous episodes featured him rather depressingly stuck in a dead-end job, but here he has kids who provide a chance at redemption. The episode gets a lot of mileage out of exploring the relationships between different generations of Simpsons, from Lisa and her offspring to Homer and the now-cryogenically frozen Grampa. Every character has a moment in the spotlight, and a reflective, emotional conversation in the treehouse between Bart and Lisa is genuinely one of the best scenes the show has ever done.

South Park - ‘Red Sleigh Down’ ‘Oh my God, the Iraqis killed Jesus.You b*stards!’

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verything great about South Park encapsulated in twenty-two minutes of glorious anti-Christmas spirit.

After Cartman discovers he has committed far too many evil deeds to earn a cool Christmas present, he decides to perform the nicest act ever, and convinces Santa to spread his holiday cheer in Iraq. The plan goes awry, and Santa is shot out of the sky, Black Hawk Down-style, by a rocket launcher. Soon the boys, with the aid of a machine-gun wielding Jesus, travel to rescue him from some

horrific, childhood destroying torture: ‘he shocked Santa’s balls!’. Meanwhile poor, disabled Jimmy embarks on an episode-long rendition of ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ as he switches on the town’s lights. Sharp social satire (America was about to declare war on Iraq) blends with the utterly absurd (Mr Hankey the Christmas Poo, anyone?) to create one of the all-time best episodes of South Park. This is the show at its most outrageously funny and offensive, yet it succeeds in finding a balance between extreme blasphemy and offering heartwarming messages about the true meaning of Christmas.

Images (top to bottom): NBC, 20th Century Fox, Comedy Central, Disney


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Oliver Collard (dept. Naoise Murphy) - travel@palatinate.org.uk

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bursting the bubble: a night at the dogs Nell Lewis spends a bracing night at Sunderland’s famous track

Photographs by Photograph Nell Lewis by by Bruce Photgraph Shalaka Darshane Thomson

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night at the races conjures up images of sophistication: Ascot style hats and gin and tonics. In Sunderland, it is another story: the gritty world of greyhound racing – cheap pies, cheap booze, cheap thrills. Our party of five squeezes into Otto, who swiftly shows his reluctance at the weight by lurching up Crossgate puffing bellows of smoke out of his exhaust. We are anxious, even if we did make it to Sunderland, will we return? Or will we have to endure Trapz, the onsite nightclub, and spend the night in the kennels? The Sunderland Greyhound stadium heaves with punters of all ages. Elderly men in peaked caps scribble on strategically concealed racecards, occasionally conferring in hushed tones over a pint of bitter. Children shriek at what looks like an orange plastic bag but is in fact ‘the hare’ set loose. Eighteen year olds grab their pints and linger round the roulette machines, barely stirring when the races begin, far more mesmerised by the black and red screens. And then there are the unmistakable Geordie clubbers, fake tanned and bulging, here for the booze and free entry into Trapz nightclub, the dancefloor of which reminds me of a village hall school disco, plus some poles. Overwhelmed, we headed to the Bunnies Bar to

collect our pie, peas, and a pint. This was the way to do the Dogs. Everyone in sight had a polystyrene tray with the beef and gravy-full pie, topped with heaps of the mushiest of mushy peas. The first race commenced at 7:25. In the misty floodlit glare down by the track are the three independent bookies. They do their sums hunched over and scrawl the new odds onto their whiteboards. Proudly old-fashioned, they refuse to match the William Hill technology inside. Bookie Tony Hutcheon points to the fractions on his board and tells us “that’s what they used when the dinosaurs were alive”. The racing greyhounds are paraded, the owners watching over protectively, and they are led to the starting line. There’s a hush, the hare is set loose, the traps are lifted, and the six skinny dogs flash by in a blur. Excited, somewhat slurred shouts spur them on. The whole thing is over in less than 30 seconds – and surprise, surprise, the hare never loses! We all placed our bets, at this point completely out of our depth. I went for my usual gambling tactic of choosing my favourite name and testing my luck, but to no avail, Cloncunny Pine lost me a pound. I decided to ask around for some tips. I approached one man, weathered face and bloodshot eyes, he looked like he knew what he was doing. He was a man of few words, “trap number 4 is all I’ll tell ya love”. With renewed confidence, I followed his advice, and failed, yet again. Would one of the bookies be my ticket to victory? Tony Hutcheon has worked as a bookie for 35 years, 25 of those years in Sunderland. Working five days a week, this sport is his life. Tony was quick to quell the rumours of the cruel industry, saying that the owners love their dogs and take them home afterwards. In

this respect, greyhound racing does seem to be predominantly reformed – 80% of the retired dogs are rehomed. He talked about the decline in greyhound racing. The numbers of tracks have vastly diminished; in the 1940s, London alone had 33 greyhound-racing stadiums, while now there are just 25 registered tracks in Britain. The Dogs used to be where the British working class went to do their betting. The decline started in the 60s with the opening of high street betting shops, and now Tony blames virtual gambling. A shame, as this atmosphere could certainly never be replicated in front of a computer screen. Sadly, he was reluctant to share tips, adamant that the Dogs is not as fixed as people say. We were obviously acquiring some knack for it, as the winnings started to trickle in. Finn was way ahead, a firm believer of £2 on number 2. Louisa won seven quid on a duo forecast. Tyrur Dasher in Race 8 pulled through for me, £14.40 back in my pocket. Rosie, the only one of us not to win once, retreated mournfully to the 20p roulette machine, which then proceeded to swallow all her 20ps. Digby celebrated after each race regardless. “You’ve got to tell us ya trick boy” some of the punters said to him later, “you’ve been winnin’ all night.”

Photographs by Nell Lewis


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Anisha Mohan (dept. Tanya Birkett) - food@palatinate.org.uk

FOOD & DRINK

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christmas without the pudding? an alternative festive feast Katie Allen explains her family’s choice to overhaul traditional holiday treats

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hocolate trifle, apple pies, cheese and crackers: they can only mean one thing, right? It’s Christmas! Christmas? Maybe not the first image those sumptuous foods conjured up in your mind, was it? Ok, let’s try again… Christmas cake, mince pies, Christmas pudding. Sounding more familiar? Now let’s just think about all those traditional Christmas treats; what do they have in common? You’ve got it! They all contain either raisins, sultanas, or potentially a mixture of them both! And for me, these sorts of dried fruit are the enemy. I blame it on genes: my father is the exact same. For our family, dried fruit is one of those marmite foods: you either love it or hate it. And for four out of the five of us the sight of those small shrivelled fruits instigates a feeling of contempt. Of all things, why did those pioneering Victorians have to settle on sultanas and raisins as the mainstay ingredient of every traditional Christmas sweet? Thanks to them, there is a whole portion of the population that cannot partake in the supposed ‘delights’ of the traditional Christmas culinary festivities. So whenever I watch an advert on TV that believes it is enticing me to shop there by showing me mouth-watering mince pies and heart-warming Christmas pudding, my mind is actually recoiling at the idea of ever having to go there, to a place that sells so many products containing the aforementioned odious ingredients! Christmas is a time where a feeling of inclusiveness and a sense of shared happiness hangs in the air. But if you cannot delight in the taste of a mince

pie, you inevitably find yourself feeling a little left out! So, the solution to the problem: if you can’t find any joy in the widely accepted traditions, you just have to make your own! For our family that means looking forward to the delights of melt in the mouth mini apple pies, instead of sweet mince ones; in place of the infamous Christmas pudding, we look forward to our annual helping of chocolate trifle; and instead of Christmas cake as a sweet after thought (just in case anyone is still hungry after the main course) we have an array of exotic cheese and crackers that is never found in our house at any other time of the year! My mother may lament the absence of those quintessentially Christmas foods each year, but we keep her happy by buying her, her very own mini Christmas cake. Because despite it being the season of general good will and generosity, there’s just no way that dried fruit will ever have free reign in our house. So if you find yourself as avid a turkey hater as we are dried fruit haters, do not fret. You too can still have a memorable and delicious Christmas meal. It may not be what everyone else thinks of when the word Christmas is mentioned, but it can become your idea of Christmas. And that uniqueness makes it all the more special. Photos: Flickr

winter warmers: handcrafted holiday drinks by Abby Warwick

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ith the arrival of winter comes the much-awaited festive favourites from many a coffee shop; namely Starbucks. The phrase “Pumpkin-spice” is thrown around in everyday conversation, and people - myself included - await the day when we can try the toffee nut latte and almond and honey hot chocolate. While I haven’t had a chance to sample anything other than the Toffee nut latte (though gingerbread is next on the list), I can give a rave review. Just the right balance of strong coffee flavour with sweetness means no sugar is needed for this drink. And from someone who likes their coffee seriously sweet, that’s saying something! Though however good this festive treat is, at £3.40 for a small cup, you’re practically breaking the bank. So for a cheaper, but just as sweet alternative, try this one at home!

Homemade Starbucks-Style Festive Drink 1. Make sure you have a good brand of coffee in. Sure this is expensive to begin, but think of it as an investment. Kenco Millicano goes down well! 2. Take a cup of milk - I go skimmed but it’s up to you. Heat it up on the hob or in the microwave. 3. As this is a standard festive drink, think caramel, cinnamon, and vanilla. If you have flavoured syrup lying around, put it in your mug before the milk goes in. If you’re using spices like nutmeg or cinnamon, or vanilla essence, stick them in the milk as it heats up. For a few classic fla-

vour combinations try: peppermint essence with a dash of hot chocolate mix, cinnamon and nutmeg, and vanilla essence and caramel syrup. If you’re feeling really fancy, toast some crushed nuts and blend them before adding them to the milk. 4. Add your coffee to the mug, and then add the heated up milk. Give it all a good stir so your flavours are all blended together. If you’re happy with a milky coffee – great. However, if you want to go real latté, get one of these handy foamers (I got mine for about £2 from IKEA!) and froth the top of your drink. Et voila! Festive drinks for a fraction of the price – in the long run! Photography: Anisha Mohan


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Frances Marsh - visual.arts@palatinate.org.uk

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north east art scene

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Get inspired to visit some local galleries this Christmas period with excerpts from Imii Mace, Ruth Townshend and Kimberley Ong’s reviews of three very different exhibitions currently showing in Newcastle and Gateshead. Find the full articles online. ‘SCREAMING STEEL’, THE HATTON GALLERY

‘THEY USED TO CALL IT THE MOON’, THE BALTIC

he flood of 888,246 red poppies which recently filled the Tower of London’s moat has been described by the Guardian art critic Jonathan Jones as “fake, trite and inward-looking – a Ukip-style memorial.” Although harsh, this response highlights the way in which the Hatton Gallery’s exhibition ‘Screaming Steel’ triumphs where Paul Cummins and Tom Piper’s commemorative installation Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red fails: in its consideration of those soldiers from both sides of the fence. The Hatton Gallery curators have produced an unbiased exhibition, hanging works by British, French, and German artists, whilst also considering a variety of ideological perspectives, art works by pacifists facing pro-war propaganda. In the second gallery, Erich Heckel’s 1917 work Man with Hands Held to Head addresses the psychological trauma suffered by thousands of soldiers during and after WW1. The pose of Heckel’s figure reminded me of Edvard Munch’s iconic painting The Scream, both works reverberating with paradoxically silent agony. The figure is alone in the picture space, clutching his brow from which furrowed lines extend into the far reaches of the landscape, trajectories which simultaneously hint at explosions, pressures, and sounds; “foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were” wrote Wilfred Owen in 1918. Unlike Munch’s painting, this figure keeps his mouth firmly shut, symbolising the soldiers’ inability to voice their sufferings. Continuing the theme of shell shock, Siegfried Sassoon’s ‘Repression of War Experience’ is printed on the final gallery wall, alongside Owen’s ‘Mental Cases’, a poem which drips with disturbing imagery. Although familiar with Owen’s poetry, I found myself reading it with fresh eyes when exhibited alongside other artistic responses to the devastation of WW1. I found this section of the exhibition difficult. It is supposed to be.

he Moon is Earth’s only natural satellite, a quarter of its size, moving around our home planet in cold and lifeless isolation, in an orbit that increases an inch and a half a year. Yet, this lifeless sphere of rock and dust has pervaded human consciousness and popular culture, adopting many protean identities throughout time. When we talk about the moon, we are in fact talking about the Earth, and the imaginations we imbue upon it. The group exhibition ‘They Used to Call It The Moon’ at BALTIC Centre for Contemporary Art presents the moon as a canvas, with various contemporary artists from Pakistan, France, Germany, Croatia, the US, and the UK inscribing reactions towards the phenomenon and discovery of the then unknown planet. It dabbles with film, photography, drawing, sculpture, and collage. The interspersing of science and fact in art is a key component in the exhibition. Large images of moon and space fill the exhibition walls, courtesy of artist Michael Light’s project ‘FULL MOON’, with photographs taken from NASA’s archive. Yet another focal point is a huge silver sphere from Trevor Paglen’s sculpture. Over seven metres high, it was designed as a prototype by aerospace engineers to be placed into low-earth orbit and reflect sunlight from space to the Earth’s surface. The exhibition blends technology and imagination, fact and fiction. Packed with lunar maps and photography, mythology, conspiracy theories, and utopian and dystopian visions, these artistic responses allow us to immerse into the wonder of mystery surrounding the moon today. Most importantly, it reflects our shared experiences and responses with the moon.

‘JONATHAN YEO PORTRAITS’, THE LAING ART GALLERY

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f you dream of being surrounded by the faces of the rich and famous then Newcastle’s Laing Gallery is evidently the place to be seen this winter. As one of the world’s greatest portrait artists, Jonathan Yeo has painted some of the most famous faces around, from Sienna Miller and Helena Bonham Carter, to his newly unveiled portraits of Lily Cole (as Helen of Troy) and The Duchess of Cornwall, as well as a full-body self-portrait. One of the more striking pieces of the exhibition is a newly released work entitled Photo Booth Selfie. Much like his study of Damien Hirst, here he presents his own self-portrait within the confines of a thinly drawn box. Reminiscent of Francis Bacon’s Study of Pope Innocent X, there is a sense of dynamism to the work as pink paint is brushed haphazardly horizontally over the painting, with Yeo choosing to paint only his hands, feet and turned away face in one of the more realistic of his varied painting styles. Interestingly for a selfportrait, there is very little ‘self’ portrayed. Instead, it appears Yeo’s focus is on the ‘selfie’ element, his studies of the stages of facial plastic surgery showing his interest in the material nature of modern life. The work is also, perhaps, a reference to the dying nature of his ‘trade’ as a portrait artist, with the emergence of new self-portrait technology. Despite this, I fear Yeo may be wrong. While it is true that the ‘selfie’ has taken over popular culture, there will always be a place for the painted face. Yeo’s work is both stunning and gentle to the eye, his subjects sitting with such trust for their capturer. In a world of leaked photos and paparazzi, it is this relationship between artist and subject that, if anything, is longed for even more. ‘Jonathan Yeo Portraits’ runs at Laing Art Gallery until 1st February

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‘Screaming Steel’ ton Gallery until

Illustrations: Bilgi Demirsoz and Mariam Hayat

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‘They Used To Call It The Moon’ runs at the BALTIC Centre For Contemporary Art until the 11th January 2015.


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Celeste Yeo - creative.writing@palatinate.org.uk

C R EAT IV E W R IT I N G

Ottoline Spearman shares her short story set in Venice in winter

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Venetian Fury

Based on the true curse of the Palazzo Dario. Dusk is falling on the Grand Canal as they wind their way north. The water is silky to the touch, undisturbed by the customary plethora of bustling adventure-goers and unrequited lovers. They watch the muscled hand of the gondolier steer their craft, and the ripples exude from the paddle and throw patterns on the surface. The air still carries the remains of a sultry day, tainted by desolate vendors and fading Venetian masks. They pass a solitary vaporetto, but do not wave at the driver. He does not need to be disturbed by their follies. The Palazzo Dario. They cannot help but stare at the exquisite gothic features. Oppressive, some like to say. Malice ridden, others. He remarks that it stands rather forlornly, sinking on its foundations. A microcosm of Venice itself, a city lost to the sea. She’s watching him as he fixes his gaze upon the façade, tracing the curve of the arches. He’s trying to peel away the outer walls and delve beneath the surface. Striving to decipher the hidden, dark secrets, he might say, in his endearing, hackneyed-type way. This is a metaphor for their relationship, she muses. There’s Hugo, earnest and sincere, totally devoted but lacking intellectual drive. Always trying to weasel his way into her thoughts, to undress her, metaphorically, not literally of course. Then there’s Florence, who prides herself on her vocabulary, her English Grammar School sentences and her academic panache. And now they have been thrown together to find themselves in this unusual predicament. ‘Venice in winter’, an aloof cousin-once-removed had declared, ‘are you barking mad?’ A distant uncle had bought the palace in September and needed various documents to be signed, and Hugo had been selected. He had naturally dragged Florence along with him; she was willing, enthusiastic even, and happily left her mundane routine back home. But he held the antithesis of her view, falling prey to the rumour circulating the palace. Superstition had never been one of her weaknesses, but predictably, he was the opposite. She had diagnosed this as a feeble characteristic in him, forcing herself not to despise it.

Photographs by: Ottoline Spearman

She chose to ignore the petty habit he had of glancing over his shoulder while walking her home: he was meant to be protecting her, after all. He had made sure to research the palace before even setting foot in Italy. ‘The Curse of Palazzo Cà Dario’ was the first article he came across. A promising start. A brief skim over the article had intensified his fear. Three suicides, three lost fortunes, and two deaths due to mysterious circumstances. He had recounted the article later to Florence who, settling a pillow by her head, had remarked casually ‘Dear, don’t be foolish. These are stories invented to scare children’. They had left the discussion at that. The palace disconcerts him more now as he hovers a mere ten feet away. The Pisa-esque tilt lends the place a disturbing, disproportionate appearance. The marble encrusted oculi should serve to enhance its beauty, but not for him. Maybe - he hopes at least - it is just the age-old trypophobia kicking in. Unpacking is a quiet affair. They busy themselves with quotidian tasks and do not talk throughout. Dinner is served and they seat themselves facing each other, avoiding eye contact and chewing slowly and deliberately. The flan is not finished, and he notes that she is eating less than ever. Soon, the plates have been cleared away and he ventures out into the crisp winter air for a cigar. The tendrils of smoke curl and twist, dissipating into the atmosphere, and he watches them gently fade away, softly caressing the railings of the bridge. As he is focusing intently on their mean-

movement in the corner of his eye. Was that a hand he saw trailing against the balustrades of the farther bridge? Did he just imagine the retreat of a swinging skirt vanishing into the alleyway? He should not wander into the world of his imaginary horrors, and chides himself. Now he is making his way back, sauntering through the unfrequented vialettos when he hears a soft footfall behind him. He wheels around in alarm. Nothing once more - a mere figment of his imagination. This is becoming annoying now. When he returns, Florence is noticeably irritated. He has been out far too long, absorbed in his thoughts. Another point against him:they’re stacking up quickly. They sleep without exchanging any sort of affectionate gestures, and lie on either side of the magnificent four-poster bed. He has barely closed his eyes when the eerie siren of a police boat cuts through the air. He starts, but Florence shows no sign of disturbance. He remains inert until the foreseeable heavy breathing ensues, before he wearily lifts his body from the comfort of the bed, and stumbles out of the room. Down the corridor the air is heavy with damp, and cracks have formed on the walls. He turns into the bathroom and narrowly avoids slipping on a pool of tepid water. Cursing, he brushes his teeth and hurriedly makes his way back to the room, his slight frame quivering from the cold. He has yet to pull the heavy, oak door closed when the muffled ‘drip, drip’ of a tap reaches his ears. Slightly irritated at his carelessness, he hastily retraces his steps. But just as he is nearing the bathroom, a flash of white crosses his vision and he feels momentarily thrown backwards. Dizziness overcomes him, but he blinks, and it has vanished. He cautiously enters the bathroom, only to see the tap firmly turned off. Blaming the incident on fatigue, he returns to bed, and sleep willingly embraces him. (To Be Continued...) * To read the rest of the story, visit the Palatinate website.


comic by Mariam Hayat Comic by Mariam Hayat


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