Time is a funny thing: looking to the future as a finalist
Indigo Editor Miriam Mitchell considers what’s in store for the year ahead
It’s
the second week of the academic year: Freshers’ Week has come and gone and freshers’ flu with it, we’ve all had our introductory lectures and we’re hopefully starting to find our new rhythms. Being a finalist myself you might think I’d be used to this process by now but in all honesty, I sometimes feel like I’m still a ‘silly fresh’ as I join yet another new society. Indeed, I do often forget I’m 20 and not 18 any more. This autumn, especially as I watch the leaves turn from green to brown once again, the adage ‘time is a funny thing’ comes to mind. With the whole academic year ahead of us perhaps the thing to do is to not only reflect but look to the future.
In a 600-word editorial, I’m not in the position to impart much profound wisdom, even if I had any. The world around us is ever-changing, nothing is ever static, and there are many questions about what’s next. We have little control over events on the world stage and while the beginning of the new academic year brings with it its own uncertainties, we do at least have a bit more control over our own individual university experiences.
Masters. Yet, for those of us who can’t put off the inevitable any longer, let’s adopt the fresher mindset and tick off as much of our respective Durham bucket lists while we still can. Make a fool of yourself if you must, I mean, I’ve joined my college choir.
In this vein, this edition of Indigo is devoted to all things Durham and is designed not only for new students but returners looking to make the most of all that the University has to offer. On page 6, Style looks ahead to discuss what is next for Durham fashion, while on pages 10 and 11, Features reviews the fresher experience and offers advice on stepping outside of one’s comfort zone. For any of you interested in getting involved with Palatinate, turn to page 8, for an interview with the Editors-in-Chief and Indigo Editors.
I would like to extend my sincere thanks all our Indigo editorial team for their continued hard work. We hope that you enjoy this print edition and that it proves useful in some way. Perhaps, after reading, you’ll even be tempted to write an article for us yourself!
Artwork of the week by Adeline Zhao
The Covid-19 restrictions I knew as a ‘pandemic fresher’ now feel like a fever dream and entering a lecture hall I realise I’m seeing many faces without masks for the first time, despite being in my third year. I’m grateful to be able to forge a sense of community with fellow English students at long last.
Talking to my finalist friends, I realise the irony of the university experience, as the home sickness we once felt is usurped by the desire to not have to say goodbye to what has now become our home away from home. While my second year went by in a haze of trying to find my feet in an in-person environment after a first year spent mostly online, my friends have recently compiled a bucket list to make sure nothing goes unexplored before we graduate. The only real remedy to this problem might just be the Panic
CONTENT
Visual Arts (Page 3), Books (Page 4), Creative Writing (Page 5), Style (Pages 6 & 7), Interview (Page 8), Food & Drink (Page 9), Features (Pages 10 & 11), Travel (Page 12), Music (Page 13), Film & TV (Page 14), Stage (Page 15)
Indigo logo: Adeline Zhao
Cover image: Victoria Cheng
Closing image: Victoria Cheng
TEAM
Samuel Lopes, Miriam Mitchell, Melissa Rumbold, Amy Whittaker, Cameron Beech, James Macfarlane, Ruhee Parelkar, Annie Pickup, Ella AlKhalil Coyle, Lizzie Buckley, Theo Mudhir, Caitlin Ball, Agnes Shu, Lara Moamar, Emilia Williams, Eve Kirman, Millie Adams, Izzy Tighe, Roshni Suresh Babu, Lily Lake, Lydia Doye, Annabelle Bulag, Tom Benns, Alexa Thanni,Charlotte Grimwade and Alice Purves
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Perhaps the thing to do is not only reflect but look to the future
The homesickness we once felt is usurped by the desire to not have to say goodbye to what has become our home away from home
Visual soundscapes: from Durham to Lisbon
Sarah Kuszynski reflects on ‘Lisbon Under Stars’ in anticipation of ‘Life’
From25th August to 1st October 2022, the gothic ruins of Lisbon’s historic Convento do Carmo were home to the annual spectacle that is ‘Lisbon Under Stars’. I was fortunate enough to visit this immersive experience just last month. This fantastically executed multidisciplinary display combined vivid projections of dancers and other exquisite visual effects, all set to the soundtrack of traditional, classic and modern Portuguese music. In total, the display lasted just under 60 minutes – it was an hour that passed by all too quickly!
Multimedia art at its finest
The feature of ‘Lisbon Under Stars’ that most intensified the spectacle was the ruined state of the surroundings. Although some of the arches were rebuilt in the 19th century, it still remains roofless. This unsurprisingly exposes visitors to the weather, thereby adding an element of chance to every performance. On the night I visited, the sky was speckled with lazily floating clouds with a warm sea breeze. It was the recipe for a hauntingly beautiful experience.
In addition, the whole work was nar rated, making ‘Lisbon Under Stars’ both an artistic and educational phenomenon. Impor tantly, the voice-over did not passively recount historical events in a documentary style, but rather the narrator took on the persona of Carmo itself, the nun after which the convent
gets its name. This unusual narrative perspective encouraged me and other visitors to contem plate how, if the convent was personified, it would feel about the momentous events that oc curred within and outside of its now crumbling walls.
The 60 minute display was divided into twelve micro-stories, demarcated by the hours of the clock. Each ‘hour’ took on aspects of significant historical happenings in Portuguese history and in the lifecycle of Carmo. The twelve ‘hours’ were organised chronologically starting at the found ing and construction of Carmo, progressing masterfully through more than 600 years of history; it included the Battle of Aljubarrota, Portuguese expeditions in the Age of Discovery, the earth quake of 1755, and ended with the founding of the archaeological museum at Carmo. There were also several urban art works by contemporary Portuguese artists who all seek to characterise life in Lisbon, and explore what it means to be Portuguese today.
The transformative potential of public art installations
Covento do Carmo was founded in 1389 by military general Nuno Álvares Pereira, and this aspect of the monastery’s history was portrayed through the projection of ancient Portugese manuscripts accompanied by rhythmic chanting. These projections portrayed the work of the Carmelite friars who inhabited the monastery from 1423 until 1755. These tranquil scenes of scholarship and brotherhood were suddenly juxtaposed, with a tick of ‘the historical clock’, onto its destruction.
The earthquake of 1755 ruined the monastery’s architectural integrity and destroyed their extensive library of manuscripts, thus forcing the abandonment of the site. The interaction of light and sound placed attendees at the very centre of the convent as it shook, began to crum ble, and eventually collapsed. In short, anyone who attended this experience left feeling more in touch with Lisbon’s past and also with a new sense of reverence for the Portuguese language, culture and extensive history. ‘Lisbon Under Stars’ was multimedia art at its finest.
Having been won over by this multisensory spectacle and its ability to generate an awe inspiring environment for absorbing history, I have become more convinced of the hugely transformative potential of public art installations. I have consequently already booked my ticket to see ‘Life’ by Luxmuralis in Durham Cathedral later this month. I am intrigued to compare and contrast ‘Lisbon Under Stars’ with the upcoming immersive display. How will Durham Cathe dral’s purpose as an active religious space - rather than a ruin - shift the atmosphere of the event and influence the choice of light and sound chosen?
Luxmuralis’ ‘Life’ seeks to bring the natural world to the interior of Durham Cathedral by travelling up to the sun, through the clouds and down into the depths of the oceans. Although the al-fresco setting of ‘Lisbon Under Stars’ was able to incorporate nature’s presence, this is not to say the ab sence of nature will detract from the immersive expere ince of Durham Cathedral. Essentially, just the character and form of the sensory immersion will differ. Provided ‘Life’ by Luxmuralis is able to facilitate self-reflection, in spire wonder towards our planet, and renew our collective appreciation for the magnificence of Durham Cathedral, it will fulfil the transformative function of public art installa tions, like that of ‘Lisbon Under Stars’.
James Macfarlane - Visual Arts Editor
This month, from the 12th to 16th October 2022, Dur ham Cathedral will be hosting an immersive sound and light performance entitled ‘Life’ by Luxmuralis. Within this installation, the cathedral’s Romanesque sandstone interior will be the canvas on which sublime projections take the viewer from sunrise to sunset, exploring the beauty of planet earth. Tickets are available online from the cathedral website and booking in advance is strongly reccomended (£8).
An introduction to horror
Marni Ward provides a beginner’s guide to the horror genre
always remember the re vulsion on my teacher’s face when I opened The Shining by Stephen King to read at the ripe old age of eleven. Her face said: ‘surely there’s some thing more light-hearted for an
I’ll
lides
with murder mystery, thriller, gothic, etc., and although it’s clear that the label isn’t con tained, that’s what makes it excit ing!
It can be easy to skip over the horror genre in literature. Placing yourself in the eyes of a character that must confront a supernatu ral, malevolent force is hardly pleasant. In fact, you may find such forces cliché or ridiculous, with the horror element vanish ing entirely. I believe this is why many successful horror novels draw on more realistic charac ters as their iconic villains. One of my favourite examples of this is Stephen King’s Annie Wilkes from Misery. Her horrifying nature doesn’t stem from being supernatural; she’s an obsessive and deranged woman, hiding be hind a motherly, attentive façade from the novel’s protagonist, and her idol, Paul Sheldon. The fear
that Wilkes evokes comes from multiple things. For one, her acts of violence and compulsion are harrowing, both in the book and the film adaptation. Secondly, Wilkes embodies the nightmare of being trapped by some
that Wilkes is the
car crash, as a devout nurse and motherly
that Wilkes is no
of our faces at each page. This psychotic duality is revealed to Sheldon, and readers, through an unsettlingly irresistible gradu ality. Furthermore, Sheldon’s inability to escape underscores a vulnerability that could hap pen to any one of us. King truly does master the idea of monsters in human form through Wilkes, revealing that readers often feel the most (rewardingly) unsettled after a horror novel where the villain inflicts insufferable yet human pain, and embodies our worst vulnerabilities rather than delivers the traditional super natural spookiness.
That being said, there’s noth ing wrong with a good ol’ ghoul or haunted house, and there’s a reason why so much classic horror includes the supernatural. The physical repulsion of the supernatural is instantly vital in creating disgust and tension, where readers expect a vil
lain’s insides to be as disturbing as their outsides; think of the looming, cold Count Dracula, and if you would be happy to be trapped in a castle with him on first impression. Furthermore, the supernatural’s perversion in the natural world makes not only characters question what they know about their homes, but also readers, inviting them on a suspenseful journey through the pages of horror to investigate their understanding of humanity. Again, the existence of the bloodsucking, transfiguring and silent Count Dracula is unnatural, but a reader could gain a lot from picturing him as a potentially real figure. Perhaps a sheer thrill, or an investigation into what else is blood-sucking in the tangible universe. As terrifying as it is, I found Dracula a highly reward ing book for its ability to build suspense, which emphasises the power of a good horror. Stick with it, and your eagerness to beat the suspense will outweigh the fear of what happens next, and you should come out the other side both relieved and sad that it is over.
Horror shocks, chal lenges, unnerves, but most importantly re wards all readers
No horror novel would be com plete without a plot twist. Since horror is all about meddling with your sense of security, what bet ter way could horror do that than by taking everything you know and crushing it? The good guy was the villain all along? They were dead the whole time? All of these twists have the potential to finish a book with a shock factor that leaves readers unnerved and challenged, but what is litera ture if it doesn’t challenge your expectations? The Silent Compan
ions by Lauren Purcell is one of my favourite modern horrors to include a plot twist because the build-up is so understated. Twists like that in Purcell’s novel are what make horror so worthwhile. Although a shocking twist un nerves your security, it’s exciting and often leaves readers remi niscent of that moment all their expectations were subverted years later.
Horror is not just for October; I fully believe that it should be enjoyed all year round! But if you were thinking of dabbling in some pernicious pages of a book, now would be an excellent time. Horror shocks, challenges, unnerves, but most importantly rewards all readers, and it’s clear that there is plenty of versatil ity in the genre for one to find their fix. Just remember to sleep with the lights on after you’re finished…
The First Last
About Friends
Hello,How
are you? From a little wooden bench that faces the cathedral, on the banks of the River Wear, I write to you, hoping that you are very well.
This is a letter I know you will never read, you who must currently be throwing yourself into a new country miles away, unknowing as I quietly gather what is left of us onto this page. You never even knew that I write. But language is a reservoir for time, after people drift on and memory runs dry. So as pointless as it is, allow me to still write a lake, where to peer into the water is to see a fading face and relive a bygone year.
Language is a reservoir for time
Autumn is seeping into the city now. From my spot on the bench, I observe as a few golden leaves float downwards to settle on the river surface, like tiny yellow boats. I wonder if you remember another time when the leaves, instead, were green, and rowing boats cut through the glassy water.
It was a summer day, and we’d gone rowing. “If we try hard enough, we can first row past the racecourse, and then turn around and row towards the cathedral,” you said, determinedly picking up the oars.
So, for an hour that day, with music booming from a speaker and fingers sticky with chocolate, the journey along the river was ours to control, the wish to go against or with the current at our command.
I used to think that the current was something I could control, that time was mine to row against, or even stop at will. That night at the silent disco, you tried to teach me the foxtrot and the waltz. Red faced and breathless as the music blared; you laughed when I stepped on your foot for the hundredth time. “No, it’s two steps to your left!”. Those times when you played the piano, your fingers fluttering like butterflies, working magic along the white and black keys. The way you’d look sideways towards your audience as you played, a charismatic, confident grin plastered wide on your face. The way I’d think in playful irritation, “what a show-off!”. In those moments, I thought I could row my boat against the flow of time, and days like these would come again, and again, and again.
But I never knew that one can only row against the river for so long, that the current of time always bears everyone forward. “You may be going on a year abroad, but come back in the summer and I’ll row,” I said when our hour on the boat had ended. “I’ll need a lifejacket then,” you nodded with a chuckle. Yet, as June trickled into August, and August trickled into October, I watched as replies went from taking hours to days and conversations morphed into inquisitions, me forever the inquisitor, attempting to keep the Perhaps I grew tired, or I knew it
was futile. Perhaps I finally understood, then, what the river meant by flowing. So, I let time dribble out through the cracks of my fingers. I let you disappear with the flow of time.
But I hope you know that wherever the river takes you, if you wish, you can always visit in the summer with a lifejacket, where this time, I will try to row us up past the racecourse and down to the cathe dral. I hope you know that no matter how far you have journeyed on, you are always welcome back.
So, as you always say, “see you in a bit”.
Pearl Cheng Are We?
Istopped
wearing that ring you gave me.
That’s not to say I don’t re member why you got it to me, or what you’ve done for me since. It’s not to say that I don’t owe you a lot, I owe you plenty. I owe you my life, I’ve been told that that is plenty. You helped me learn that it was plenty.
I could be plain in front of you, ugly and crude if I wanted, and even when I didn’t, I could tell you the things I couldn’t tell people, take apart my darkest thoughts in front of you and you would nod your head and say, “me too.”
Maybe that isn’t what we needed. Maybe we did each other wrong. Maybe all we shared was pain and that wasn’t enough all of a sudden. Maybe because our pain enabled pain and our pain had had enough. After all, we had had plenty.
Maybe we did each other wrong
We kept each other alive in that time, I know that we did, because even though we wanted to, we never would because we never could, not to one another.
I always thought you were the only one that would ever know every thing that I was. When you listened and you tried, and you cried.
Did you ever cry? I can’t remember now.
I thought it would last forever; you were scared that it wouldn’t. I wanted to try forever; you gave up halfway through.
What are we now?
Close friends, old friends, see you next week friends, hug on arrival friends, text me when you get home friends, do you want to do this with me friends, I love you friends, I loved you friends.
I stopped wearing the ring you gave me, but you wouldn’t know – you never see my hands anymore.
We’re “are you around”, “I’ll let you know,” friends Rae Shemwell-Rostron
STYLE
style@palatinate.org.uk
An entirely subjective guide to Durham fashion trends
Durham
is a microcosm of unique and shifting fashion trends. I’m not here to regurgitate the Urban Outfitters parachute pants, cargos and bright satin corset tops – a simple scroll through TikTok would do that. Beyond skinny scarves and flares, which trends are becoming quintessentially ‘Durham’?
Let’s start with the basics: black and navy blue, while timeless, are no longer the only ‘neutral’ colours on the block. The brown of the iconic Carla hoodie, and the khaki green of classic cargo pants have leached into our understanding of basics. These new neutrals are the glue that will stick our outfits together, and considering their wide availability in flares, jumpers, and baby tees, are here to stay. Our understanding of texture is also shifting, with avant-garde leaps into embracing furs, velvets and satins alongside staple denims, wools and jerseys.
plain black denim is fading into the background. Choices in material are also expanding (shout out to the girl wearing a pair of amazing silver satin cargo trousers at the Billy B the other day). It seems that patterned trousers are becoming the party piece of outfits, paired with plainer long-sleeves and black leather jackets.
This year graphic and embel lished jeans will win out against plain denim
Although funky trousers are definitely having their moment, we can’t ignore our upper halves: our necklines are dipping into V-necks (thanks in no small part to Urban Outfitters’ wildly popular Josie tops) and becoming more struc tured to reflect corset and waistcoat trends. Our sleeves are becoming more adventurous, with bell- and balloon-sleeved Depop mainstays popping up all over campus. Pair these with paisley mesh and a denim maxi skirt and you will be well on your way to Y2K realness.
structured vintage blazers and jackets in leather, corduroy and suede are another affordable go-to.
Now, we cannot forget about accessories, and there are several different trends to jump on: shoulder bags are at their peak, and easy to come by with a simple Vinted search. You can’t really go wrong with jewellery, but currently trends are leaning towards chunky beads and chains in layered necklaces, and mixed metals seem to be thriving at the moment. Once again in true Y2K style, the paperboy hat is back, and combined with a crocheted skinny scarf in the perfect autumn pair. If you’re looking for some thing slightly under the radar (and bear with me on this one) a statement belt buckle can elevate a more simple outfit into the Durham fashion heights.
The make-or-break for any Durham outfit has historically been the outerwear
Now, onto the clothes themselves: We have reached a renaissance in how trousers are styled. Corduroy and denim have long been Durham favourites as versatile basics that suc ceed in keeping the cold out. This year how ever, graphic and embellished jeans will win out against plain denim. Flares will always have their place, but following the summer cargos trend, our silhouettes are shifting back to the oversized. Light-wash and pattern-dyed denim is seeing a growing majority, and unfortunately
The make-or-break for any Durham outfit has historically been the outerwear. How can one stay effortlessly fashionable and fend off the approaching cold weather? Beyond the classic college puffer, there are a variety of options (although none are entirely effective against rain). The gilet is seeing a stunning Y2K revival, both puffer and the classic fur-suede combo, providing an excellent opportunity to show off your newly acquired vintage jumper from one of the periodic Headlock Vintage sales. Thanks to the likes of Superdry, New Look and previously Urban Outfitters, the Afghan coat is now widely available without spending hours trawling through overpriced Depop listings.
Following the mainstream blazer trend,
The joy of all these trends is that most are widely accessible through the second-hand market –although Urban Outfitters seemed to have the monopoly on summer trends, throw back fashion lends its strengths to sites like
all about self-expression, so take
Fashion is all about selfexpression, so take what resonates and have fun with it
Katerina Panayiotou delves into this term’s up-and-coming fashion fads
Our guide to Fashion Month’s most iconic moments
Style Editors Caitlin Ball and Agnes Shu dip into the good and outrageous from Fashion Month
Fashion month has finally run its course, and after more than two years away designers certainly had more than a few tricks up their sleeves. From Gucci’s Twinsburg to the return of Diesel, audiences were left aghast at what New York, London, Milan and Paris had laid bare for the future of fashion.
A running theme across all four fashion weeks was clearly inclusive innovation peppered with the odd nostalgic moment. While Fendi’s Resort 2023 show in New York heralded the return of the supermodel era, with Linda Evangelista making her first runway appearance in fifteen years after time spent overcoming a failed cosmetic procedure, London followed by delving much deeper into the annals of public memory so as to commemorate the life of Queen Elizabeth and her vast influence on the British fashion industry. It was striking to see LFW shrouded over with the same black curtain that first appeared over the nation a little over a month ago, when we remember how alien this dark hue was to a monarch for whom colour often spoke louder than words.
Echoes of the contrast between individuality and community simultaneously felt that the passing of the Queen brought to London were also felt in Milan. Inspired by his mother being a twin herself, Alessandro Michele, Creative Director at Gucci, launched his own version of Twinsburg so as to highlight the need for the recognition of individuality despite shared similarities. Two shows occurred simultaneously with identical looks and separate crowds, only for a barrier to then be lifted in-between to reveal the plot. That is, sixty-eight pairs of twins walking the runway, until then unbeknownst to each half of the audience, side by side.
That the relationship between technology and fashion has passed the point of closenessas evidenced by the sheer number of viral moments this year- and moved towards one of inseparability was certainly emphasised.
Beate Karlsson certainly knew how to fashion a viral moment, as models purposely fell to their knees on the runway. With videos reaching upwards of 170K likes on TikTok, AVAVAV’s Milan show became one of the month’s most iconic. This is despite Karlsson telling Vogue that she doesn’t “necessarily want to design things with the intention of being memeable”. Despite the show seemingly being curated for the delight of a virtual audience just as much as
a physical one, she also admits to questioning whether she is “doing this because [she] think[s] it will go viral or because it’s something [she] stand[s] behind as a design”. Perhaps the relationship between tech and fashion is much more coincidental than it first appears, beyond the will of designers who cannot always control online reactions.
Fashion tech put the world of social media in a state of awe when Coperni’s technology, inspired by Alexander McQueen, saw a dress spray painted onto model Bella Hadid live on the runway in Paris. While audiences were assured that this was done for its viral potential as well as how easy it was to “stand behind as a design”, over in Milan, Balenciaga shared Karlsson’s scepticism of the ‘viral moment’ and its relationship to fashion.
Whether it was for better or for worse, it was no doubt iconic as Balenciaga had their models walk through mud. Viral as it was, however, it was proof beyond doubt that virtual audiences are their own autonomous being. Ironically, the detriment that social media is doing to style was behind the earthy, sloppy mess used to emphasise the need for returning to our own fashion roots- our individuality yet again- from Balenciaga creative director Demna.
Fashion tech put the world of social media in a state of awe
Producing moment after moment, this fashion month has evoked an uneven attitude towards what the future of fashion should hold, but has upheld the message that fashion can, and should be, inclusive of individuality as well as community.
Here are our top moments from this year’s set of fall presentations:
The return of the supermodel era: With the likes of Bella Hadid’s appearance on just about every other runway or the re-integration of personalities in models’ walks (see: Lil Nas X or Issey Miyake’s presentation), supermodels are certainly making a comeback. There was no better way to celebrate than the appearance of Linda Evangelista at Fendi’s Resort 2023 show in New York.
Back in business:
Diesel returns under the helm of Glenn Martins, and they are no doubt already in trend as their public show attracted more than 5,000 in-person viewers — with over 2,000 of them being industry VIPs.
Not property damage:
Whether it was for better or for worse, it was no doubt iconic as Balenciaga had their models walk through mud, only to sell the (literally) limited edition shoes post-show.
Seeing double:
Inspired by his mother being a twin herself, Alessandro Michele launched Twinsburg — having two shows occur simultaneously with identical looks and separate crowds, only to lift a barrier in-between to reveal the plot.
The spray-painted moment:
It’s the perfect meld of technology and fashion. Reminisicent of Alexander McQueen circa 1999, Coperni’s technology saw a dress spray painted live on Bella Hadid live on the runway.
Don’t trip, just fall:
This isn’t Beate Karlsson’s first time causing controversy, after her monstrous boots caused social media chaos or her silicon bums for Kim Kardashian. This time, she had her models purposely fall on stage — making for a viral TikTok moment.
Chatting with the people behind the paper Meet the team
up we chatted with Editor in Chief of Palatinate, Nicole Wu.
First
Q. How did you get involved with Palatinate?
I started on the Editorial Board in Epiphany term during my first year, I was Social Media Officer. I had never written for the paper before, barely knew what I was getting into and simply applied bored during Covid restrictions.
Since then I’ve worked my way up and almost two year later have found myself running the whole thing.
Q. What do you love most about your position?
The opportunity to provide opportunities. We’ve hired almost an entirely brand new team this summer and got to meet some incredible writers and creatives in the process. It brings me great delight being able to help facilitate students wanting to be published in the paper and support that process of writing and editing.
Q. Why should more people get involved with Palatinate this year? And what is the best way to do this?
We are completely free to get involved with and accept all articles regardless of experience or age. We are one of the most accessible student newspapers in the country and a place like Durham needs more stories from all sorts of perspectives.
The best way to get involved is to just send an email to the
sections you’re interested it. Or join any contributor group on Facebook, more info is online or in last edition’s print. We talked further with second Editor in Chief, Joe Rossiter.
Q. What do you love most about your position?
It’s so varied, between design ing pages, seeing the content from every section and meeting so many amazing people through our team.
Q. What is your favourite piece you’ve written for Palatinate?
I wrote a Comment piece last year - ‘it’s time for Britain to start caring about Northern Ireland’ - which was great to write and I think did a good job of ex pressing some of the frustration around the political gaps be tween the two.
Q. What do you hope to ac complish this year as edi tor?
Hopefully, we can continue the incredibly high level of quality output, showcasing student writ ing as well as informing those at the University, but also build strong Palatinate and Indigo teams as a student society.
Q. Which journalist do you look up to most?
I think Steve Richards is fantastic, he’s a political journal ist and columnist who does his own podcast. He’s so fluent and eloquent in the way he expresses opinions, and does a great job of
going deeper into a lot of impor tant issues.
Next up, we talked all things In digo with Indigo editor Samuel Lopes.
Q. What do you hope to ac complish this year as editor?
Over the summer, we’ve hired a fantastic cohort of new editors, so providing the support that they need is always a priority. I also hope to continue our work in being an inclusive and rewarding publication for people to write and read, as well as providing a space for curious students to take their first forays into journalism.
Q. What is your favourite section to write for?
I always have a soft spot for Books, my old section! Film and TV also always manage to feature some really interesting takes, and as a film nerd, I’m always interested in writing for them. Although, the best thing about Indigo is that because our scope is so varied, every section has some fantastic ideas that caters to every type of writer.
Q. Which journalist do you look up to most?
My favourite journalists are those that show you the world from a different angle, or provide insight into something you had no idea existed. I find that the journalism I read the most tends to be travel - I really love Craig Mod’s writing on his journey walking the Kumano Kodo pil grimage route in Japan and Hen ry Wismayer’s travels through the North-East of England.
Q. What is your favour ite piece you’ve written for Pa latinate?
After at tending a bril liant Durham even ing course during my first year: An Introduction to Playwriting, I pitched a review directly to Stage.
This review was the first article I wrote for the paper but without the Stage Editor’s encourage ment and the option to pitch articles directly to any section, who knows what I’d be doing now! So, for being the piece that started it all, it’s my favourite.
Q. Which journalist do you look up to most?
I admire Sophia Smith Galer. She’s a Durham alumna and a previous Music Editor for Indigo who’s especially known for her pioneering use of TikTok as a newsgathering and publishing tool. She’s a real trailblazer.
Q. Why should more people get involved with Palatinate this year? And what is the best way to do this?
Whether as a contributor or an Editor, getting involved with Palatinate is an experience that I whole-heartedly recommend. It gives you the opportunity to not only express yourself, learn new skills and gain journalistic experience, but also make some wonderful new friends.
If you’re interested in joining or writing for Palatinate, visit the ‘Get Involved’ and ‘Vacancies’ sections of the Palatinate website.
Durham’s Newest Restaurant: Coarse
Food and Drink Editor, Millie Adams, visits ‘Coarse’
just behind Durham’s bustling North road, the elegant minimalism of Coarse feels a little like Narnia. From the window display of bulbs to the rose gold cutlery, the atten tion to detail is all part of this fine dining experience where, for £40, guests can enjoy a six course tasting
Tucked
There is the opportunity to supplement your meal with a wine pairing for an additional £30 per person. The constrains of a student budget meant we decided to give this a miss but it seemed to be popular amongst other guests and would be worth it for a special occa sion (or when student finance comes in). Instead, we started our meal off with a margarita- the brilliant bal ance of sweet agave and a spicy salt rim making it a worthy course in and of itself!
The stand out dish, however, was the scallops and pork
The menu we were given to follow resembled the restaurant’s design in its minimalism. Each dish is summarised in a couple of words, cutting out the su perfluous ‘parfait’ and ‘jus’ jargon usually associated with elegant dining. This added an element of surprise to the introduction of each course.
First up, the elusive ‘snacks’ appeared in the form of a sort of DIY bruschetta and a deliciously creamy croquette.
Next, the menu promised ‘leek and potato’ and the peppery foamy dish which appeared redeemed these two uninspiring ingredients which you might other wise associate with a sad Sunday’s soup. Chopped nuts
added dimension to this fluffy dish- the texture as in teresting as the flavours.
The trout and venison which followed were equally enjoyable and had similarly imaginative pairings; the venison was coupled with beetroot and blackberries, and the trout with radish and cucumber shavings.
been a better finale. With a cold, sorbet-like texture, it might have acted as a nice ‘palate cleanser’, though the white chocolate and miso of the cookie, and the fresh raspberry of the milkshake, were not at all dis appointing flavours to go out on.
I can imagine it getting very busy around graduation time, and look forward to seeing this new small business thrive.
Although it was hard to follow such wonderful main courses, the dessert plates were nevertheless impressive. It was unusual ending the meal with a cookie and milkshake and I found myself thinking the ‘orchard fruits’ dish that preceded it might have
As much a part of the experience as the food itself, the service at Coarse was also particularly impres sive. Waiters were friendly and accommodating and seemed to genuinely enjoy talking about the dishes they were serving. All in all, this experience is well worth the money for a special occasion. I can imagine it getting especially busy around graduation time and look forward to seeing this new small business thrive.
As much a part of the experience as the food itself, the service at Coarse was also particularly impressivefeatures@palatinate.org.uk
Feeling (not so) fresh
Iam
officially a university student of seven days. While the novelty of living alone is yet to wear off, I would not describe the experience as ‘fresh’. There are several antonyms of ‘fresher’ that spring to mind when remembering my start to student life.
Adjective: (of food) recently made or obtained; not tinned or frozen.
Last Friday, my parents drove me seven hours up the country, where I now must struggle without them. The boot of the car, the funny pockets on the back of the seats: every inch of space was so stuffed that it was a wonder our poor Toyota could wheeze a mile at all. I had packed all the warm clothing I could find, from jumpers to fur-lined boots, my brother’s ski coat, hats, scarves and four different pairs of gloves carefully tailored to every instance where a glove could be required, but also plausibly all worn at the same time. As a Dorset beach girl, September in the north was a shock, and so I can confidently say that Freshers’ Week was not fresh at all, but rather frozen.
My diet, too, has taken a lurching change. The thought of cooking my own food began as a novelty, but quickly lapsed into a chore, only to be followed by a pile of washing up as big as my impending reading list. While I started with Bolognese made from scratch and roasted vegetable lasagne, the herbs and spices in my cupboard are rapidly taking up more space than they are worth, for food this week has rarely been Fresher than tinned.
Adjective: not previously used; new or different.
While my room was cleaner and more generous than I anticipated, student life feels recycled. Soon, I had met second year students who had lived in my flat, my room, last year. I knew their names before I’d even met them, for they were still written in Sharpie on the bin. I quickly discovered that I need not have bothered to seek friends in other flats, for every flat in my building is a carbon copy of the one next to it. I am starting to learn that the term, flat, refers not to the landscaping of the property (which quite resembles a stubby corridor), but instead to the personality of the living quarters. The
conditions of this week so far have not been fresh, but instead previously used, neither unique nor different.
Slang: good, attractive or stylish.
I may have worked out how to use the shower, but the ambition to wear every garment I brought just to prove my father’s insistence that I had packed too much wrong has very swiftly faded. Jeans and a jumper every day is the way to go. But at least it is the jumper that mum said I would never wear, so not all rebellion is lost. I’m not looking fresh at all, quite the opposite of stylish.
Adverb: newly; recently.
Anticipating the financial burden of student life, I opted for a more sustainable method of acquiring living equipment. I called upon my grandparents and their friends for all their spare crockery lurking at the back of the cupboard, in the hopes that it would, if not win me cool points, stand out from the IKEA shop of my fellow flat-mates. Hence, I rocked up proudly brandishing my old utensils, such as a plate a shade of orange that vaguely matched the fading peach design around the outside of my pasta bowl, and a cereal bowl just a slightly darker shade of red than the floral design on my mugs. At least they stack neatly, although they cause bleeding to the eyes. They are not fresh, though, nor newly bought.
Sleep-deprived, socially drained, mildly panicked, it feels like I’ve been here forever. Despite still getting lost on the way to Tesco, not knowing how to turn the oven on properly to actually cook my chicken, still finding climbing into bed the homeliest part of the day, I would say I am getting used to being here. It feels like a fever dream, that I’m not really a student, but it doesn’t feel fresh. I don’t feel recently moved in: last week feels like last year.
That said, I am yet to experience actual student life, which will likely include a lot more working, more care and concentration, and hopefully more sleep. Maybe I can meal plan without reliance on baked beans and canned soup, find stylish outfits that keep me warm and my hands accessible, and pin up photos and posters so my room feels unique. Or maybe that’s too ambitious, and I will always feel like it’s been too soon since I moved in to start worrying about sensible life choices. Either way, I will continue to be a Fresher after Freshers’ Week ends, and I will likely never feel fresh until I get home and my parents do my laundry.
Anna KuptsovaI will likely never feel fresh until I get home and my parents do my laundry
Pushing past your comfort zone
Hetty Mentzel discusses how to challenge your boundaries sustainably
Whydo we have comfort zones, and why try to push them? How do you push past them without major panic?
A comfort zone can be defined as a situa tion or emotional state that feels secure and controlled, in which your abilities and deter mination are not being tested. For many that are starting university for the first time, or even returning for another year, the upkeep of aca demic work, society activities, and social out ings can feel relentless.
University presents an environment that can seem totally unstable, eliciting a survival mode of attempting to get by without seeking out extra threats to our ability and determina tion. It demands balancing the tightrope line of throwing yourself into new experiences sus tainably, without burning out in a single overenthusiastic spark of adventurous attitude.
Comfort zones are extremely personal and subjective
So, why bother trying to push out of that cosy boundary of safety and control? Last year, when I started university full of energy after a rather quiet Covid-19 gap year, friends gave me good advice: “You only have a few years at uni,
make them count by saying yes to things that are joyful and unexpected.” A radio broadcast, skydiving, protests and writing for the paper are a few instances for me last year where it was worthwhile just giving it a go. As a result, I not only have a set of amazing memories, but also a newfound desire to keep pushing my bounda ries and testing my ability.
Pushing your comfort zone is not saying yes to everything going on. Comfort zones are ex tremely personal and subjective, and you do not need to feel obliged to push yours in the same manner as others. It’s not a linear journey out from a comfort zone to some perpetual danger zone. It’s about learning and growth. Choosing to take on calculated risks that require some determination will prepare resilience for diffi cult times that push you into more challeng ing uncertainty. Much of it is a psychological rewriting of your personal narrative to dispel untruths about your ability, and prove your doubts wrong.
Just ask yourself, why not? Sometimes push ing out of your comfort zone happens best without too much deliberation. I signed up for a skydive while getting a bus for a Newcastle night-out, and then thought about it over the following months of lead up. If you prefer tak ing a more rationalised approach, make a proscons list and hypotheticals of what’s the worst
that could happen and how likely that is. Risks taken with moderation and consideration pro vide a secure place for growth.
While all this is great in theory, persistent challenges in a hectic university environment can lead to striving for perfection and overdo ing yourself. There’s an important role for rest and recuperation to stay healthy enough to sustain widening your comfort zone.
University term time is pretty relentless but there’s ways to go about keeping yourself in the right space for pressing on past comfort zones without totally burning out. As a Christian, the idea of taking a Sabbath day of intentional rest is pretty well backed up by the belief that even God, having just created the universe, need ed a day of rest. Pushing yourself out of your comfort zone, whether that manifests itself as trying new societies, socialising with people even when you’re tired, or just trying to keep up a good work ethic is a brilliant challenge to personal growth.
Don’t be too hard on yourself. Set clear time to rest that become an excuse for stop ping yourself from pushing your comfort zone, but also doesn’t become a time where you feel guilty about not doing enough. Comfort zones give us security, but small steps of challenges gives us sustained self-confidence.
Roshni Suresh BabuEverything becomes easier when you have your friends to do it with! Spend ing endless amounts of time in each oth ers’ rooms, cooking together, and study sessions at the Billy B might sound mundane, but these have become my favourite memories of Durham.
A Serene Break in Northern Scotland
Sophie Little shares her highs and lows of the North Coast 500
Thenorthern coast of Scotland: a place which feels surreal to drive aroundweaving in between sheep and high land cows on roads which seem too small, bendy, and close to cliffs to be safe.
The ten days which I spent driving around the NC500, with my childhood best friend in her pick-up truck contain some of the most peaceful moments I can remember. After a stressful exam season, it was time to get out of Durham and I decided to spend my 21st birthday seeing a falconry display at an old cas tle, getting lost in the middle of nowhere and watching highland cow calves play in a stream. Oh, and did I mention that deep-fried crème eggs were up for grabs! What more could you want?
The ten days which I spent driv ing around the NC500, with my childhood best friend in her pick-up truck contain some of the most peaceful moments I can remember
Of course, there were ups and downs along the way, with the downs normally consisting of problems caused by bad weather. With the first half of the trip consisting of clear blue skies and me try ing not to get sunburnt, gale force winds and torrential rain were a surprise when they came. The first night of bad weather, we were camping as close to the sea as possible without actually being underwater, and I spent the night worrying our tent was going to get blown away with us in it. The next morn ing, after only half an hour of driving, we realised two things. we were lost, which is almost impres sive when there is pretty much only one road. Two, there isn’t much
to do in the middle of nowhere when it is rain ing so hard you can barely see what’s in front of you.
We stopped the car somewhere with signal so we could try to sort ourselves out, and almost immediately the car’s battery went flat. We weren’t quite stranded as we did have a spare, however it was in the back of the truck under literally everything and we knew we were going to get soaked trying to sort it all out. Luckily what must have been the most prepared man on the planet drove past and stopped to help us which somehow resulted in him dropping a box of muffins in a puddle – turns out karma doesn’t always come through! Then there was a situation which included two caravans going in opposite directions, fog so thick we couldn’t see our own bonnet, and one of the most dan
with long stretches of white sand and clear tur quoise water, the only way to tell them apart is the sheep which can be found leaving hoof prints in the sand! And one of my personal highlights, the invention of an incredible game: sheep or rock? After driving through highlands for hours, your eyes start to blur, and a nonmoving white lump could really be either.
The Scottish beaches look like they belong in the Caribbean
gerous roads in the country which is better described as a track with hairpin bends and ridiculous gradients. Need I explain further?
I do feel like these slight mishaps only added to the charm of what was an incredible journey. We were lucky enough to spend two hours on a boat with a pod of orcas swimming around us, and witnessed incredible views throughout the whole journey, even if sometimes they were ac companied by ridiculously thick mist. Majestic deer were a common feature, and the Scottish beaches look like they belong in the Caribbean
After ten days I was sad to be coming home, but the adventure was not over yet. On the way home, we stopped off at a place on the Scottish border where my friend helps with lambing in the spring. Quicker than my brain could compute, we were out of the car and helping shepherd a big flock of sheep down a road. The whole situation provided a perfect, if slightly surreal end ing, to what was an amazing ten days. All in all, a trip through the Scottish High lands is definitely something I would recom mend to anyone, especially those wanting to find some inner peace whilst looking at views which could bea screensaver, and getting slightly scared by massive high land cows who insist on coming a bit too close for comfort.
Running up that hill
Indigo Editor Samuel Lopes shares his recommendations for a killer running playlist
You’ve
fired up Strava. You open Spotify, your fingers hovering over the shuffle button of your favourite playlist – whatever it picks will set the tone for the next half hour of your life. Running triumph awaits. So, here’s a kilometre-by-kilometre breakdown of the songs that are guaranteed to deliver the best 5km ever, Durham hills permitting (turns out, they do call it Cardiac Hill for a reason!).
Kilometre 1
Out of the door, time to get the heart rate up. ‘Immigrant Song’ by Led Zeppelin will tug at the necessary heartstrings. Or ‘Go’ by The Chemical Brothers, which will really make you, well, go (incidentally, ‘Galvanize’ works just as well). Focus on something in the background – I use the Cathedral, about a kilometre away from my front door – and start to feel the rhythm as you begin your run. If you find yourself headbanging a little, the vibes are spot on.
Whatever Spotify picks will set the tone for the next half hour of your life
Kilometre 2
One down, four to go. After the initial warmup, I tend to go for something a little less punchy so I can settle into a
comfortable rhythm. For something lo-fi but with a steady beat, you can’t do better than some classic Orbital for some vintage electronic, give Kraftwerk a go (watching them live, they give you some 3D glasses to go along with the visuals, which makes for a cool souvenir).
Kilometre 3
Halfway through, the endorphins are starting to kick in. One foot hitting the ground, then the other. Then again, and again. The playlist at this point needs to maintain the good feelings built up over the previous 2km. My go-to here is dance music; much like a rave, it’s important to keep the good vibes going. ‘Watercolor’ by Pendulum to, or ‘Greyhound’ by Swedish House Mafia is great for maintaining a steady rhythm. If you’re lucky, a running high is starting to percolate through the synapses.
Halfway through, the endorphins are starting to kick in. One foot hitting the ground, then the other
are won and lost on the battleground of the penultimate kilometre. Time to eschew the dance and electronic for some stirring power ballads; and, what could be more apropos than some classic Loggins ‘Danger Zone’. Pretend you’re Tom Cruise, running for your life (although, if you’re running with a friend, now might be the time to lose them, as Cruise allegedly only runs solo on screen). ‘Separate Ways’ by Journey has some punchy synths to pull you through – although the original, un-Stranger Thingsed version is my personal favourite.
Time to eschew the dance and electronic for some stirring power ballads
Kilometre 5
At this point, my legs start to put up a fight. To conquer the one last push to the finish, I tend to want to finish
spite, and so return to the classics. Rage Against the Machine. Beastie Boys. AC/DC. As it plays, draw out the last bit of energy from the tank and pick up the pace for the end. Imagine the relief when it’s done. And, then, finally - relax.
In my experience, my decent 5km times are won and lost on the battleground of the penultimate kilometre Cooldown
You’ve done it, and potentially set a new PB in the process if you’ve been following along! Well done. Time for stretching (lactic acid buildup can hurt like hell) and calm. This calls for classical. For soothing piano, I like Federico Albanese or, if soaring strings is more your vibe, Vanbur. As you stretch out, feel your heartbeart slowly return to normal, and keep drinking water. Check Strava, and then go have a well-deserved meal. You’ve earned it.
To find a playlist with all the tracks and artists mentioned, search for this article on the Palatinate website.
Letterboxd: the future of film criticism?
Elif Karakaya considers the app, its popularity and fuction as a social media
Merging
the traditional and digital worlds, Matthew Buchanan and Karl Von Randow co-founded the app Letterboxd in 2011, an app that facilitates the discussion and review of cin ema through social media formatting. Initially set up because of a modest passion in film, the founders declined funding for the app in order to keep it as close to their vision as possible as it grew at a moderate and comfortable pace.
Noticing the lack of similar ideas within the digital world, Buchanan and Randow jumped at this opportunity for mod ern cinema discussion with in an app, the closest thing at the time being IMDb, a da tabase more-so than a social media. Letterboxd ensures its adherence to both the in formation standard of a data base such as IMDb as well as social media elements, which are apparent through the us ers’ ratings and reviews. Not limiting the reviews through rules, the app encourages a more open discussion that isn’t limited to those who have a nuanced and confi dent knowledge of film, thus appealing to a wide demo graphic. Casual cinema-lov ers can now have their say, resonating with others like them, alongside the more eloquent and perhaps more passionate critics. Users can have their pick between both modes of review.
Aside from the review writing, the app al lows users to create watchlists for films, a tool that is most useful in a world in which is char acterised by a breadth of choice, as well as a hand-picked catalogue of films already seen. Additionally, users are able to log films in their diary, tracking them by the date, allowing them to trace the lexicon of films they have viewed within a certain year.
Users can create lists, that have a broader reach than the playlists you encounter on Spo tify, truly made to reach other users, ranging from ‘top 250 horror films’, to ‘hot girl mov ies’ that will always consist of The Virgin Sui cides, Jennifer’s Body, Girl, Interrupted, and Black Swan. The range and scope of these lists is a real testament to the app’s user-tailored foun
dations: it is far easier to find recommenda tions here than it has been on Google. Assem bled by one lover of cinema for another, these lists ensure the popularity of Letterboxd has remained intact.
It has never been easier to share recommendations with friends, listening to their opinions
And yet the social function of film seems to be the app’s only incongruence. As a social me dia, Letterboxd appears to be doomed to the fate of consumption for consumption’s sake. There becomes an almost competitive air, a tinge of intellectual discourse between users that arises due to the feature of tracking movies seen annually by users; witnessing other users consume more movies in a single year than you have in the last five. There is no denying that it inspires you, motivates you to watch more mov ies – which truly isn’t my complaint; in fact, the app has done the very same for myself. It does however create the same issue we have in rela tion to reading books following Goodreads and BookTok. The loss of slow reading, and I sup pose, slow viewing. Consuming films to have seen the classics, to increase the quantity of mov ies you have seen, rather than to simply enjoy the movie as a form of art, to appreciate it. Purely to satiate one’s ego and quell an admittedly childish insecurity, one could ruin their experience of cinema, the foun dation of the application itself.
The social media aspects establish them selves in the app through the follower function – it has never been easier to share recommen dations with friends, listening to their opinions on their favourite recent movies, or even ones that they have despised. This provides a more nuanced character than generic social medias, and in turn sparks conversation regarding film, encouraging users to branch out and increase their passion.
Similarly, other users’ opin ions can alter yours, as the re views are more intimate within Letterboxd compared to other, older services. The app removes the necessary chasm of opinion between critical response from Rotten Tomatoes, the general public’s voice or factors such as box office sales. Now seeing a rating be fore even going into a movie, perhaps by your friends, or someone you follow, could make you more biased in your own perception of the movie. Even to the point where you may lower or increase a ranking based on the feedback of others. The social aspect, once again maintain ing precedence over the user’s film experience, robbing them of a basic right of anyone view ing this artform: their unaltered and subjective opinion.
However, the app itself is not the primary is sue, more so the online culture of a superficial sense of consumption that comes with the so cial media experience. Perhaps it’s necessary to remind oneself of the fact that it is a form of social media, of its grip on our opinions, and to take a more active role when partaking in it.
Letterboxd appears to be doomed to the fate of consump tion for consumption’s sake
Review: A Doll’s House
Hetty Mentzel reviews the production by the award-winning Elysioum Theatre Company
Thisclassic piece of theatre, written by the Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen, has been brought to Durham’s stage by Elysium Theatre Company and Queens Hall Arts Centre. The plot of A Doll’s House follows the rela tionship between bourgeoise hus band and wife, Torvald and Nora, in late 19th Century Norway over the few days surrounding Christ mas. Confined within a potently patriarchal domestic setting, the relational interplay of power dy namics between patronising Tor vald, played by Danny Solomon, and manipulative Nora, played by Hannah Ellis Ryan, is both pain ful and captivating to watch as a modern audience. However, through the wheedling feminine stereotypes and obnox iously domineering male role,
transformation is most evident in Hannah Ellis Ryan’s direct clarity of independent voice. Simple movements throughout the house are also well directed to show Nora’s development from playfully diminutive ‘little squir rel’ crouching at Torvald’s knees and nibbling out money from him to sitting at the table as an equal to Torvald, addressing him seriously without performance or pretence.
premonition of the direction of the ending.
The soundscape, crafted by Chris Neville-Smith and Paul G Clark, is both subtle and effective, an ideal mix for this naturalistic setting.
The fierce tarantella dance, choreographed by Jennifer Essex, must also be praised for its role in unleashing some of the play’s re strained energy, catalysing a shift from naivety to agency.
While Nora’s character devel opment is somewhat of a jump from ignorance to empowered and eloquent self-awareness, El lis Ryan handles it well with a re
To counterbalance the bour geoise, self-centric manias of Nora and Torvald, Christine, act ed by Heather Carrol, shows hu manising pragmatism and quietly fierce integrity that unobtrusively changes the course of action.
Jake Murray’s direction of this production of A Doll’s House, as sisted by Maddie Hurley, Jennif er Lafferty, Georgia Malkin, and Marc Twinn, works well to bring depth and dimension to each character, nuancing the lines be tween villains and heroes. In a play dealing with the effects of action that has already happened, tense momentum to the action comes from careful use of voice and body language within the small sitting room walls. Danny Solomon’s vocally explosive out bursts, as Torvald, threaten the illusion of domestic tranquillity and enhance the caged atmos phere of the house, while Nora’s
The set, designed by Louis Price and managed by Kamilla Jonson, takes a traditional, natu ralistic fashion of representing a 19th Century middle class living room, decked out with simple fes tive paper chains and warmly lit by Mark Turner’s lighting design.
The set design functions well in this tightly constructed doll’s house world with evident barri ers to the male world of serious business marked by a door to Torvald’s study, and the door to the outside world acting as an ever-looming threat to social reputation and stability.
The fatalistic pace of the play is not hindered by scene changes as a low blue light and hubbub of chil dren’s voices pleading to their mother underscored with classical music provides an atmospheric and ominous
The truthful and unflustered voices of those afflicted and over looked in society, such as the maid Anne-Marie, acted by Wynne Potts, further highlight the im portance of A Doll’s House in the current climate of money hyperawareness and continued gender imbalances within homes. Robin Kingsland balances the portrayal of Dr Rank warmly, as he renders a character of dark humour and mortal acceptance, who is paying the price for other’s choices with a peaceful acceptance and clar ity of purpose. Where so much of the characters’ motivations are money focused, Kingsland’s Rank breathes a fresh perspective out side of one’s own troubles while Michael Blair’s Krogstad is pre sented with a dignified despera tion in his attempts to rectify his social standing against all oppo sition. Watching this traditional performance of A Doll’s House may well elicit under-the-breath gasps and hisses at some lines, and a physical reaction of gritted teeth and recoil into your seat but rest assured that the ending is worth the wait.
Ibsen’s play works to uncover the human need for honest com munication and equal freedom to shape one’s own mind
Nora’s transformation is most evident in Hannah Ellis Ryan’s direct clarity of independent voice
Carrol’s earnest expression portrays a voice of reasonable life experience and bold agency as Christine acts to restore the troubled and desperate Krogstad