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Pussy Riot
Tom Stevenson editor Tal Davies london Anna Matheson and Omer Hamid features Amelia Jefferies and Lauryn Murdoch arts Bethia Stone and Keeren Flora photography Angel Lambo and Ryan Ramgobin music Amy Bowles and Lucinda Turner fashion Mark Birrell and Kamilla Baiden film Bryony Orr qupid Lauren Mason, Maria Sowter and Robert Pritchard sub editors Maria D’Amico cartoon Cover image courtesy of Pussy Riot
@cubmagazine.co.uk 3 London
There’s an awful lot of weirdos in this neighbourhood. “These visual spectaculars have so much more to them than a story told through movement.” Page 7
4-5 Pussy Riot
The feminist protest group who rose out of Russia’s anti-Putin movement to form a guerilla girl band.
6 Matthew Bourne’s
Nutcracker
Our Arts section review the contemporary response to the original, classic ballet.
7 The Bourne Supremacy
The life and works of internationally renowned Choreographer Matthew Bourne.
8-9 CUB’s EYE Image courtest of Sadler’s Wells
What to do this fortnight The Drums Breakfast Club (March 1st)
10 Rise and Fall
In our tribute to Whitney Houston, we track the highs and lows of her illustrious career.
11 A Farewell to Whitney
Houston
The Drums are doing a free gig in Soho, and what’s more it’s at Breakfast! Apply early and get to 100 Wardour Street on the 1st.
One last goodbye for the great woman.
Hackney Homemade Food Market (Saturdays 11-4pm)
12-3 A Journey Through
Hackney Homemade are branching out into food and drinks markets, starting on Saturday at St. John’s. With offerings promised from all over the world, it looks set to be delectable.
All New People (-March 14th) Zach Braff is making his UK stage debut at the Duke of York’s in a comedy that was very well reviewed in the States. What could be better?
The Ruins of Detroit (-April 5th) Tristan Hoare and Julien Dobbs-Higginson present a photographic exhibition of striking images taken in The Motor Cit at the Wilmotte Gallery, Lichfield Studios.
Yayoi Kusama (-June 5th) The veteran Japanese painter has an exhibition at the Tate Modern, full of dark and wonderful things.
You should be working for us! To get involved with writing, photography, interviews or cartoons email editor@cubmagazine.co.uk
Time
We take a look back at the history of fashion in London, from war-time practicality, to 50s glamour, and 80s powersuits.
14 Sexism at the Oscars
Why do so few women excel at the oscars?
15 Our Favourite Oscar Mo-
ments
We take you through some of the best oscars moments.
16 Qupid
The latest lovebirds to be struck by Qupid’s arrow...
Holly Freeman There’s an Awful Lot of Weirdos in this Neighbourhood I’m a friendly country bumpkin, every London based oddball can smell it a mile off. Ever since I strolled into Mile End, surprised to see tailbacks rather than ponies and traps, and sirens rather than smiles, I’ve had no end of unusual experiences. It’s been hard to decide who to put in this antithesis of an elitist group, but here are my top five London weirdos. At number five is my ex-landlord. I suppose I sought him out, as he owned the property I was unfortunate enough to rent. However, I didn’t ask for the large number of used nappies that he had stored in my bed, the urine soaked pieces of wood in the cupboard, or the hundreds of tubes of dried up super glue stuffed in the dresser drawers. Aside from these gifts, he regularly came round and let himself in so that he could impart his wisdom to us (and pirate DVDs). I learnt when I should get married, have children, and how I should maintain my personal discipline - and where’s best to get the latest films. I look on these landlordly pearls of wisdom as the positives of his untimely visits. However, there were a significant number of negative aspects to his omnipresence, such as the time when my hamster (who wasn’t a paying tenant and therefore should not have been living there) bit me, just as the landlord sauntered into our hall clutching a DVD he thought we would appreciate.. I ran out of my room screaming ‘the hamster bit me’ straight into my landlord. He now thinks that hamster is a slang word for boyfriend (and I’m one of his top five rural weirdos). In at number four, a man I met outside a pet shop near Mile End. I was approaching the shop to buy something for the aforementioned hamster to gnaw on, to save any further embarrassment with my landlord, when an statuesque figure emerged from the doorway and glared at me, blocking my way. I looked up tremu-
I went to pass him, he “ As grabbed my arm and spun
me round. Regretting my decision, and vowing to develop a tougher, London persona, I looked up at his face to see he was grinning at me and had a mouth full of hedge.
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lously at this 6ft5 tall, 6ft5 wide man-mountain with a shaved head, and despite fear clouding my vision, noticed he was wearing a chain so thick it could be used to moor a cruise liner. “Alright, what do you want?”, he growled at me, folding his arms and flexing his muscles so that his intimidating tattoos rippled. “I’m here to buy things for my hamster”, I stammered. “Oh you have a hamster - how lovely!” he squealed. We had an engrossing conversation on the merits of various rodents as pets (he favoured Chinchillas) while I tried not to focus on the skulls and threatening messages that peppered his arms. At number three, one of my favourite oddballs; a man I met last summer. Well, my friend and I encountered his clothes first which were distributed randomly down the pavement near Stepney Green station. I followed the trail of clothes and discovered a semi-naked man covered in heat rash and clutching a bottle of White Lightening, slumped against a wall. Being a good citizen I collected the man’s clothes and took them over to him, asking him as I presented the smelly bundle, if he was alright. He didn’t respond. Concerned, I went and purchased a few bottles of water and put them on him to cool him down. He still showed no sign of recovery, so I phoned an ambulance. Just as I did, he started to move. I helped him to have a drink of water (although he still seemed to favour the White Lightening), and he looked at me, a tall baby-faced white girl, and the tanned Sri Lankan friend that was with me, and said to me sweetly: “Thanks to you and your daughter for looking after me; are these my clothes?” The London weirdo at number two was slightly more hostile in her behaviour. I got onto the Central Line at Oxford Circus with hands full of shopping, to the extent that I couldn’t hold onto any of the bars. When the tube started moving, so did I, and I brushed against a woman who was sitting down. “Stop it, just f*ck off touching me”, she said, to which I responded with an apol-
ogy. I continued to wobble about and attempted to position myself towards more benign looking passengers. The train lurched again and despite my best efforts I stumbled into the irate woman again. She stood and screamed: “Look you c*nt, if you want to get my c*nt out the country then call Scotland Yard, just STOP TOUCHING ME,” and ran off the train at the next stop. So I sat in her seat and called Scotland Yard. My ultimate London oddball experience occurred in Stepney Green, which is undeniably a hotbed of eccentrics. I was walking down one of the quieter roads near the tube station when I saw a man staggering towards me. My overwhelming desire not to offend (ingrained in me among the haystacks and clayshoots of Suffolk) ensured that I didn’t cross the road as he approached like the more streetwise but less charitable locals did. No, I stood my ground. I did not want him to know I thought he looked odd. As I went to pass him, he grabbed my arm and spun me round. Regretting my decision, and vowing to develop a tougher, London persona, I looked up at his face to see he was grinning at me and had a mouth full of hedge. He spoke and sprayed me with a delightful blend of privet and spittle. I told him I could not understand him and asked him to let me go. He grabbed another handful of leaves from the hedge and stuffed them into his mouth chomping on them gleefully before saying (with rather a lot of verdant spluttering): “You’ve got really bad skin; you ought to go to the pharmacy”. Astounded, I affirmed that I would if he let me go, and he did, though perhaps only so he was able to use two hands to gather his next mouthful. I walked off as fast as I could and, looking nervously over my shoulder, saw he had decided to lie along the hedge next to the road, waving to me. I must admit I didn’t go to the pharmacy, but I did discover the miraculous power that a good mixed British hedge can have on your skin. After three years of such experiences, I have lost some of my rural ways. I no longer say “Orite buh” to everyone I pass (it gave me a sore throat after shopping in Oxford Street), nor do I reveal my webbed feet. However, I have tried to retain some of the better features of my country girl upbringing as I am still the person who checks if the drunk by the side of the road is all right and gives lost looking tourists directions (sometimes even when they don’t ask me), which, I guess, makes me a bit of a London weirdo too. Holly Freeman is a final year English and History student. If you want to be the next LQMDONer then email the editor Tal Davies at london@cubmagazine. co.uk 3
Image courtesy of Pussy Riot
Pussy Riot
Jade French introduces the feminist guerilla girl band taking to the streets of Russia’s biggest cities to protest against the Putin election campaign. In January the Kremlin came under siege for a whole minute. Icy winds whipped the air as multi-coloured balaclava-clad figures emerged, guitars in hand and fists punching the sky. This wasn’t just any protest, this was a Pussy Riot. Noise buzzed as they began to dance and sing their now infamous song “Putin Got Scared”. Later, they were arrested and subsequently released. 2011 seemed to be the year of revolution across the world, and even the fig leaf of democracy under Vladimir Putin has felt a slight tremble in the wake of public demonstrations. The key to protest has long been recognised as youth - the energy of the people, the catalyst for change. Pussy Riot rose out of that mentality, clad in
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neon and wielding guitars, to take charge of the movement as a symbol. A spirit of rebellion and feminism, a rallying cry against what they call a ‘broken’ system. Pussy Riot revel in this sort of guerrilla activity and operate in an anonymous collective. They began protesting Russian government action to place restrictions on legal abortions last year, amongst other limitations they felt had been placed on women. They have evolved from a politically engaged group of friends to an all-out punk band, and through music have found a way to combine a visceral and emotive outlet for their grievances. Not only did they clamber over barbed wire to sing outside the Kremlin, but December saw them atop a prison roof
performing “Death to Prison, Freedom to Protest.” They’ve appropriated shop windows, public transport and released numerous viral videos, Pussy Riot aren’t going anywhere. We know very little about who they are or where they came from. That’s how they want to keep it. Their appropriation of public space is an interesting dimension to the group’s activity. Occupying the wall of the Kremlin, even if only for a few minutes, changed the air of the place from sanctioned political demonstration to a punk concert. As their arms sliced the air they cut through years of stagnation and repression, which has dominated Russian culture for some time. Their movement in public space is never legal; in
fact that’s the whole point. In December, they took a tour of the most prosperous part of Moscow; the “places the rich Putinistov” inhabit. They jumped on top of a glass-caged Jaguar, threw shapes in boutiques, and set fire to a fashion show. They robed themselves in fox fur, shouted feminist slogans, masked their faces in front of a Coco Mademoiselle advert. These actions moved like a wave, crashing into the buildings and advertising spaces of the rich. Taking over these spaces sees them inhabit sites of collective memory and add yet another layer to an already rich historical theme, the confluence of generations. Now added to the Tsars and government of the USSR is a new skein of feminist protest.
FEATURES Although we can’t know (for now) if this meaning creates a different relationship movement will stay at grassroots or if it with the word ‘riot’; pussy rioting is both will chip away at the current government innuendo and endearing, feminist and but it is interesting to see it take place on feminine. Their interests in feminist pothe walls of such an iconic public space. lemic are rooted in the work of intellectuCollective memory is powerful, we als like Kristeva, Beauvoir, Igor Kon, and in London are no strangers to it. Pro- Spivak. They have a very specific view of tests in Trafalgar Square or celebrations the male/female dichotomy. As they exaround the Victoria Monument; these panded on for the Russian ‘Public Post’: are the powerful images in the minds of nations. Pussy Riot are masters of sentiment through music, letting us feel their political anger, and their desire to break through the walls of social expectation. They pull on their bright balaclava’s and kick through windows to make the point that everyone in the public sphere is affected by decisions made in the marketplace, the government space and media. It’s unsurprising that the medium for this vocalisation are punk and riot grrrl. Not only do the group take a cue from Bikini Kill and the buzzing riffs of Sleat- “We would like to deconstruct the very poer-Kinney but they also echo a tradition larity of “man-woman”, the very division of Russian revolutionary political tactics of mankind on the ground floor into two which revolve around avant-garde art opposing camps, each of which - have and punk music. This is a feminist group their own interests and characteristics… and they are also playing with the words We want to make the intersection of the and meanings. Although ‘pussy’ in Eng- “male” and “female” in one person belish is a provocative word, it is also a term come the cultural norm. This will lead to a of endearment in Russian. This double weakening of prejudice based on gender
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and to a healthy psyche of most people.” Just as the Kremlin Concert song ricocheted off the walls, the concept of ‘spectacle as art’ has much to do with the protest. Spectacle gets you noticed, carries public interest and hands the protesters a metaphorical megaphone. Their words are biting and angry, their aesthetic idiosyncratic. By masking their faces and us-
As they stand against the grey backdrop and blast through the murky, snowy air in their colourful clothes, there is an alignment of creativity and activism.
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ing nicknames they allow a certain mystique to inhabit their personas, and allow themselves to become more symbol than person. Speculation in the press has elevated them to near legendary status, yet virtually nothing is known about the people behind the masks. Despite striking personal anonymity, however, their blog they documents every detail of their
movements and actions. Their Kremlin takeover showed everything from setting off smoke bombs to catching a member of the public filming them on his phone, to seeing the police unlock the iron gates and get ready to arrest them. This is what Pussy Riot mean when they call for the “culture of protest”; embedded in their actions are cultural trends of documentary, art, music and image. As they stand against the grey backdrop and blast through the murky, snowy air in their colourful clothes, there is an alignment of creativity and activism. Their politics and feminist dialectic are clear and informed, their aesthetic is defined and their protests are closely documented to make sure their voices are heard. As the March 4th elections near in Russia, it will be interesting to see whether Pussy Riot’s designs and persistence to keep protesting will bring more punk activism and viral videos, and whether they are successful in gathering more support for creative, cultural protest. The Russian movement is not ready for the history books just yet. Rather, it belongs to the headlines. It also deserve heroes like Pussy Riot - neonclad and blaring songs from the walls of Red Square. That’s how it begins.
Image courtesy of Pussy Riot
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Arts
Gallery • Dance • Comedy • Campus • Print Events • Art • Poetry • Photography • Theatre
CUB Arts takes a look at the life and works of internationally renowned choreographer Matthew Bourne
Matthew Bourne’s Nutcracker!
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n contrast to the tradition- centric characters, she was rathal party opening of the Nut- er overshadowed. After the dark cracker, the audience of Mat- and depressing orphanage in Act thew Bourne’s production of the 1, Act 2 was an altogether more Christmas classic are catapulted colourful, vibrant and imaginainto a dark, bare orphanage. The tive affair. The traditional ‘Land b l e a k , of Sweets’ scene was turned on its Hari Mountford D i c k - head; the Liquorice Allsorts Spanensian ish flamenco dancers, the utterly scene could easily be mistaken pink, high heeled Marshmallow for the set of Annie. The grey-uni- Girls and the crash helmet and form clad orphans stroll onto the biker-jacket dressed Gobstoppers stage, one by one, each revealing all served to put a modern twist to traits of their character, from the Tchaikovsky’s score. shy to the comic, and, my personA visual highlight was the huge, al favourite, the two ‘geeks’: a boy three-tiered cake; each layer ocand girl both wearing glasses who cupied by a different, dancing only seem to be able to walk with ‘sweet’. This was marginally overpigeon steps in straight lines. taken by the ‘Cupids’: a male and The children’s attempts at dec- a female dressed in striped pyjaorating the dull and dreary set mas, round glasses and golden are cruelly sabotaged but, despite wings who try to fulfil Clara’s dethis, the scenes in the orphanage sires and quest for love. are full of humour. It is imposThis contemporary response sible to explain the comic quali- to the original ballet absolutely ties of a dance to someone who worked. As with many other asbelieves that comedy is restrict- pects of this mind-blowing pered to Michael Mcintyre or ‘Mock formance, this daring response the Week’, but trust me when I say would have inevitably failed if unthat Matthew Bourne’s Nutcrack- dertaken in by any other compaer! is funny. ny and by any director and choDancer Katy Lowenhoff as Clara reographer other than Matthew portrayed the somewhat unconfi- Bourne. dent and shy character success- Keep an eye out for another Matthew fully, although in comparison to Bourne production at Sadler’s Wells in the ‘loudness’ of other, more ec- Christmas 2012
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Images courtesy of MAP poetry
cartoon by Maria D’Amico
The Bourne Supremacy
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ive-time Olivier Award winner productions, instead wanting his audiMatthew Bourne is well-known ence to interpret them in their own way, these days as being “probably people seem to have a need to know: the world’s best choreographer” popular pieces such as Swan Lake, Nut(The New Yorker). Since 1987, he and his cracker! and The Car Man are studied companies have presented contemporary and scrutinised in secondary schools up remakes of ballet classics such as Swan and down the UK. Matthew Bourne’s Lake and The Nutcracker, which have work serves as an academic foundation now be- for our Dance GCSE and GCE A Level o m e qualifications. Lauryn Murdoch cclassics And it is easy to see why: These visual in their spectaculars have so much more to them own right. than a story told through movement. The The extraordinarily successful chore- Car Man – which won the Evening Standographer and director was born in Hack- ard’s award for Musical Event of the Year ney in 1960 and, as a teenager, was an - is a contemporary response to the muavid fan of many West End productions sic of the ballet version of Georges Bizet’s and musical films. Incredibly, Bourne world-renowned opera Carmen. Twelve did not take a dance class until the age years after its debut, this dance/thrillof twenty-two, two years after he had er is still popular, internationally, and enrolled at The Laban Centre for Move- wowing audiences with its tough themes ment and Dance (now known as La- of sex, violence and homoeroticism. ban) to study a B.A. in Dance Theatre. It Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake has also was at this time that he realised his tal- received mixed responses from critics ent and passion and, after graduating in since its first run at Sadler’s Wells The1985, toured with Laban’s dance compa- atre (London) in 1995. This ballet-influny Transitions for two years. Over time, enced, contemporary dance shuns the Bourne began to diminish the number of classic image of dainty, females dancing appearances he made on stage in favour the cygnets and swans, replacing them of taking more of a behind-the-scenes all with men. As well as being hailed “a approach to dance: choreography. miracle” by Time Out New York, MatAfter touring with Transitions, Bourne thew Bourne’s Swan Lake has been critjoined forces with other directors and icised for its changing themes by those friends from Laban to co-found his first who cannot quite get to grips with the company Adventures in Motion Pictures. idea of dance moving into the 21st cenHe became the sole artistic director of tury. In the words of somebody sensible AMP in 1991, and then New Adventures, from The Telegraph, “Matthew Bourne his current company, in 2002. Both com- has utterly changed the landscape of panies quickly rose to impressive popu- dance forever”. larity in the UK and internationally unSo, what makes Matthew Bourne a man der Bourne’s direction. widely celebrated as the UK’s most loved Aside from his companies, Bourne has choreographer and dance director? In also choreographed for a number of no- my mind, it is that he has, more successtable musicals including Cameron Mack- fully than anybody else, made contempointosh’s revivals of Oliver! and My Fair rary dance accessible to the masses. It is Lady, landing himself awards for Best an incredibly rare thing that a group of Direction of a Musical and Best Chore- people with mixed interests could watch ography. a live or a recorded version of a dance It was with Adventures in Motion Pic- work in the same way that they would tures that Bourne produced his first watch a film; but it is exactly this that is ground-breaking works. Although he ap- Matthew Bourne’s greatest achievement parently does not like to talk about his as an artist.
Clockwise from Left: Matthew Bourne’s Nutcracker! - Photo by Simon Annand Richard Winsor as The Swan in Swan Lake. Photo by Bill Cooper Matthew Bourne’s Nutcracker! - Photo by Simon Annand Matthew Bourne’s Nutcracker! - Photo by Simon Annand Cartoon by Maria D’Amico
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“SNOW WIZARD� IMAGE AND WORDS BY BETHIA STONE SNOW WIZARD OF UNKNOWN HERITAGE
As the much-anticipated February Reading Week grew ever closer, snow arrived and brought with it the inevitable flurry of hysterical snow-related Facebook statuses. Yes, they are perhaps a little irritating, but I am looking on the bright side and seeing it as a sign of a flourishing technological age that I might know the exact weather without ever needing to look out of the window. Depth, consistency, frequency: my Facebook friends provided an in-depth amateur weather report for three days. Move aside, Michael Fish. These things might be tedious to you and me but they please the Snow Wizard greatly. He watches over your frosty fun from Mile End Bridge, delirious from endless inhalation of fried-chicken fumes and suffering from siren-induced tinnitus .His jaunty orange hat is decorated like a traffic cone for purposes of camouflage, his unkempt moustache is as green as springgrass. A mythical creature only visible on days with two or more inches of the white stuff, he is pictured here sinking back into the cool winter earth, still smiling with voyeuristic glee after hours of watching over your snowy shenanigans. This is perhaps the last time we shall see the Snow Wizard for many months. Let us mourn his disappearance and await his next visit to our snowy city.
CUB’S EYE
image by Beacon Radio (via Flickr)
RiseandFall 1986/7: Houston wins seven American Music Awards, MTV Music Video Award and a Grammy for Best Pop Vocal Performance. Her popularity paves the way for other black female artists such as Janet Jackson and Anita Baker to achieve mainstream success.
1989-91: Houston forms a nonprofit organisation that raises funds for the needs of children around the world and sings the National Anthem at Superbowl XXV and receives critical acclaim for her performance.
1987: Houston’s second album, Whitney, generated four number-one singles and sold 20 million copies worldwide. 1985: Debut album tops the Billboard 200 albums chart for 14 nonconsecutive weeks and sold 25 million copies worldwide.
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1995-2000: Houston continues to make films alongside her music career. Balancing both, her next two albums still sold seven and eleven million copies worldwide. She also receives several awards during this period, including ‘Artist of the Decade’ at the 14th Soul Train Music Awards.
2009-12: Houston makes a successful comeback in 2009 with her album, I Look To You, entering the Billboard 200 at No. 1. Although live performances did not match those from the ‘80s and ‘90s, Houston was considered music royalty and one of the most influential female singers of the 20th century.
1992-94: Houston stars in the film, The Bodyguard, which grossed $400m worldwide. The film’s soundtrack was a huge success with the single ‘I Will Always Love You’ hitting number-one in almost all countries. The album received three Grammys and eight American Music Awards, thus cementing Houston’s place in music history. 2000-2009: Personal issues blight the soul singer with several admissions of drug abuse. Houston misses some live performances as a result of drugs. In 2002, she became involved in a legal dispute and lost a potential $100m case. Later in 2004, she stars in her husband’s reality television show, Being Bobby Brown, which has been described by the Hollywood Reporter as ‘undoubtedly the most disgusting and execrable series ever to ooze its way onto television’. In 2007, she divorces Bobby Brown and two years later in an interview with Oprah Winfrey admitted to taking drugs regularly since the mid ‘90s.
Music
A farewell to Whitney Houston Whitney has been dead for more than a fortnight now, but as with most celebrity bereavements, we will all be talking about it for some time to come. Like anyone else not in a coma or under a rock on February 11th 2012, I was as shocked as the rest of the world over her death. but before then we haven’t really given her much thought? Back in the day she was insanely popular, then she was not. Back in the day she could sing, then she could not. Back in the day she was super sexy, now she is er, dead. That was as far as our knowledge and interest went. But little did we know that she was planning a 2012 comeback, it’s a shame the media is doing it without her. Whitney’s publicist claimed that she would have been ‘ready to go’ by August to relaunch her career as her battle with drugs was virtually over. Moreover, Simon Cowell confirmed that a seat as one of the judges on X Factor had her spotlight lit name all over it. Amidst heavy
rumours of her sobriety and big future goals, this deceasement could not have been any more Hollywood - after a preGrammys preparation night, in a hotel filled with the most famous artists in the world, in a bathtub. What is it with celebrities dying in bathrooms anyway? Elvis Presley, Judy Garland, Jim Morrison the list goes on. I can only assume that the cold white tiles, hard confinement, clinical yellow lights and the generally quite annoying hum of an extractor fan drove their subconscious to insanity and forced their bodies to shut down in an attempt to escape from it. Nevertheless, the circumstances of a star’s death is never on the forefront of the public’s mind because we know that with all prolific drug users “once you take crack, don’t expect to come back” (except if your name is Kate Moss). Even before the coroner’s report, there was universal anger, or at the very least, acute disappointment amongst her loy-
al fans. Whitney has been through too much and gone too far in this world for her death to be merely accidental because if Whitney is going to have a downfall, it will be caused by herself. Now what happens? Well hold your breath for the platinum-edition-extrarecordings-unheard-of-mixes-smellslike-witney-3D-deluxe-greatest-hits album which they have probably been compiling way before her death. Oh, and don’t forget the BBC 2 documentary (she’s black, she’s not going make it to BBC 1). The ITV spoof-mentary where some cyst-sucking idiot like Keith Lemon dresses up as her and makes a shambles of her life. The Channel 4 insight program featuring interviews with her “best friends” and homemade videos provided from close relatives all put to non-music. Then finally Five will unyieldingly play The Bodyguard back-to-back until we are forced to throw our Freeview boxes out of our
19 8 8 Whitney through the years...
windows and stick pencils in our eyes. As I mentioned before, I was as shocked as the next person about her death. Why can’t celebrities die like they did back in the old days? In the height of their glory, at the peak of their career – not sullen, worn out, dirty and unwanted. Famous people need to start taking notes from the greats like Freddy Mercury and Jimi Hendrix - they know how to go out in style. The simple funeral and New Jersey burial ground does not do justice to the immense life that she led on this planet – the very public and surprisingly genuine sobs from the A-listers that attended made up in magnitude the ceremony that lacked in decorative commemoration. Whitney has left an enormous diva-shaped hole in Magic Radio’s playlist but alas, don’t you worry, we all know the truth. Whitney’s sipping Margaritas on an island with Micheal Jackson, Elvis and Tupac. Words by Angel Lambo
1996
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2003
1998
2005 Images by Beacon Radio (via Flickr)
2009
A Journey Through Time... For this issue of Cub, we decided to take a look back at the history of fashion in London. The practicalities of war time dressing, the glamour of the late 50s, and the power suits of the 80s. Regardless of whether we loved or loathed a particular decade, there is no denying that they all influence the way in which we dress today (apart from parachute pants, those were just ridiculous). So we decided to put together nine outfits to take you on a journey through the last hundred years in British fashion. We imagined these nine images as snapshots from each era, not something pulled from the pages of Vogue, but an old photo of a family member hidden away in a box for decades.
1903
1942
1920
1954 12
FASHION 1999
Images by Flora Bartlett. Styling by Lucinda Turner. Models: Bethia Stone, Millie Jefferies, Madelyn Polzin. Clothing courtesy of the vintage shops of east London and the depths of our own wardrobes.
1964
1971
1983
1977
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Sexism at the Oscars
words by Ben Rider
I
know, the headline is incident. It was only once the academy something of an extrav- had heard of her personal struggles to aganza statement; some- get the script anywhere (including bething you might find be- ing a two-job stripper, and then a bitween the pages of The ographer of her own experiences) that Sun - never mind how they awarded her the aforementioned ironic that might be. gold vir. A few years later Cody, now Gushing apologies living in LA comfortably, has become aside, there is definite- just another one of those female writly some truth to it. Well, ers that no one admires due to the fact not just some, quite a bit. that they are a bit Indie or ‘quirky’, as To start with, the statue design. The headlines would have it. muscular, golden sword holding figThis is a shame. Although ‘Young ure is essentially an archetype of male Adult’ did slip under the radar of the dominance. The whole awards evening general viewer, I still think it’s this and ceremony was conceived by Lou- years biggest dark horse. It has an unis B. Mayer, the back-in-the-day studio lovable lead gone psycho over her exhead of the now nearly debunked MGM boyfriend’s newborn, a nasty sex scene, (which relies on ‘Skyfall’ and ‘The Hob- and a sharp ‘I’m going to vandalise my bit’ to recover some silent production own book in a store so you can’t return years). So, the statue couldn’t have it to the publisher for a refund’ scene, been based on him, because he was as which must be not only Cody’s personfar away from that statue as it’s possi- al slant on Hollywood, but most defible to be. nitely her ‘Candy Girl’. It is rather comical to think that when And that’s the point I’m heading toHollywood sat down and conceived wards. Has Hollywood changed that their awards, whilst maintaining that much over the past few years, or is it homosexuality was a no-no, they still an intransigent monster? Films which all wanted a naked golden man to car- challenge, and even change, perspecry around and say ‘look what I’ve been tives (like Juno) may get an Oscar, but awarded!’ quickly become labelled ‘that year’s it Conspicuously, there has never been film’, rather than a classic. a female warrior of the academy awards. Furthermore, films tend to be judged But, I hear you say, this is but a mere not just as a films, on their own autonosymbol. Indeed it is, and what it sym- mous merits, but also by who has made bolises is rather more important. Ig- them. Do we all need to prostitute ournoring the award itself for a moment, selves at some point to get the award? one also cannot help but notice the low And is this especially true for women? numbers of female nominees, let alone One example that comes to mind is the even lower number of winners, at ‘The Reader’. Was Kate Winslet’s perthe Oscars. No doubt the coming 84th formance really Oscar worthy? That ceremony will uphold the trend. very same year Winslet also worked Of the producers nominated for best on a project for which she received an film there is only one woman, a certain equal judgement at the Golden Globes. Kathleen Kennedy, and given the fact That was ‘Revolutionary Road’. The difthat she shares the nomination with ference between the two? A strong nuSteven Spielberg for ‘War Horse’, I’d dity clause which received the award. say that her winning it was rather un- Apparently going Nazi and sexy is betlikely. This has been the pattern of the ter quality acting, rather than mainOscars since its (as they say) inception. taining her cleft upper class accent in Nominees and, more to the point, win- the decaying American dream that is ners are mostly men. ‘Revolutionary Road’. Animation is an area where this is What will really change in Hollyparticularly acute. There are striking- wood? Has Hollywood changed? Can ly few female directors in the industry Hollywood ever change? The answer overall, but the number of those who is far from clear. But in the meantime become involved in animation is even women lose out. Will Barbra Streilower. sand’s swearing that she will never Even given this trend, what is sur- win an Oscar because she is female be prising this year is the lack of a nom- nothing more than an echo of an era so ination for Hollywood’s bad girl Diab- long gone that it is nothing more than lo Cody. Now, I know, Cody did win it a joke? I hope so, but I’m not holding back in the day for ‘Juno’, and I don’t my breath too tightly. question the worthiness of that award at all! But that award was not without
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cartoon by Tom Sz
FILM Benigni Goes Bananas Now when people win an Oscar they’re understandably happy, but when Roberto Benigni won his Academy Award for Best Foreign Language film back in 1999 he took ‘happiness’ to whole new levels. Before Sophia Loren even reads his name you can hear distinctly fellow Italian cries of “Roberto!” emanating from the audience, but when she does – all hell breaks loose. Benigni leaps, and I mean LEAPS, from his chair right on top of the back of the chair in front of him. He then begins to walk, yes WALK, across the backs of the chairs towards the stage in a fit of glee the likes of which is rarely seen on live television. After almost falling face first into Steven Spielberg and attracting the attention of a very unamused looking security guard hiding in the audience, Benigni decides to get down and then hop to the stage like a bunny rabbit on cocaine. On the stage itself things only get weirder with Benigni ecstatically declaring that he would like to have sex with every member of the audience as well as some gibberish about kissing and sunrises and eternity, which judging by the look on Sophia Loren’s face wasn’t something that was just lost in translation. Awkward, weird and completely lovable.
The Kiss seen around the world When dark-horse Adrian Brody took home a tremendously unexpected win for Best Actor in 2001 he demonstrated his shock, gratitude and marvellous charm by taking the statue from presenter Halle Berry before pulling her in and snogging the hell out of her. Lad.
Cuba Gooding Jr will not be silenced Perhaps the worst thing about all Oscar acceptance speeches is the music that comes on to cut people off mid-sentence and tells them to get off the stage. Sometimes it helps out people who are waffling and have no idea what to say, sometimes it cuts off incredibly long and self-gratifying speeches. In the case of Cuba Gooding Jr, winning Best Supporting Actor in 1996, it cut short a heartfelt and very enjoyable speech that was given abnormally little time. Cuba had a remedy for this however, he just kept going. Shouting over the music he continues to thank everyone and everything in a firestorm of love which wins over the crowd in a moment of sheer awesomeness that raises everyone to their feet. Probably the best acceptance speech ever made.
Samuel L. Jackson isn’t a good loser The moment when Sam Jackson lost out to Martin Landau for Best Supporting Actor in 1995 is a good argument for getting rid of that stupid multiple box thing where all the actors faces can be seen as the winner is announced. Instead of the usual forced smile, as Landau’s name is read out you can clearly see Jackson’s face mouthing a very audible “aww shit!”. Classic badass Jackson.
Our Favourite Oscar Moments Golden Woody Woody Allen has been nominated for Best Screenplay more times than any other writer in history, yet he has consistently shunned the Academy Awards and never shown up to receive, or acknowledge nomination for, an award. However in 2002 the Academy made a plea that touched a special place in Woody’s heart – a plea about New York. Many Americans look to the Oscars much in the same way that they look to the Superbowl, for some kind of patriotic reassurance that everything is okay and that dreams really can come true. After the horrifying events of September 11th 2001, the Academy, largely associated with Los Angeles, wanted to show solidarity with New York and its filmmaking heritage through a short film. And who better to present that film than the original New Yorker himself – Woody Allen. When it was announced that Woody Allen was coming on stage the applause was pretty lacklustre – after 30 years people were pretty sure this was going to be some sort of lame gag where Ben Stiller would come out and do an impression. But no, there he was, and as it dawned on people that Woody Allen had actually broken this sacred oath to never attend the Oscars they quickly rose to their feet in disbelief. The speech itself is nothing short of Woody Allen gold, including a great movie pitch about a foot-fetishist who falls in love with a university professor’s sexy footnotes.
Eastwood and Morricone together again When industry legend Ennio Morricone, perhaps the greatest screen composer who has ever lived, received an honorary Oscar in 2007 old friend Clint Eastwood, made famous himself through Morricone’s music particularly in films like The Good The Bad and The Ugly, was on hand to hand him the award. But that’s not the cool thing. The cool thing is when Morricone, unable to speak fluent English uses a smiling Eastwood as his translator (there is literally nothing that Clint Eastwood cannot do) to convey his thanks.
Our least favourite Oscar moments
Poor hosts - Most of the time the hosts sort of fall through the cracks, Jon Stewart and Ellen Degeneres weren’t astoundingly memorable but they weren’t horrific either. The worst kind of host is the one you dread coming back on stage, American legends such as Whoopi Goldberg and David Letterman crashed and burned in infamy with jokes that just never landed EVER and let’s not even mention last year when James Franco fizzled out into a lifeless wreck due to *ahem* jetlag, leaving poor Anne Hathaway to sweep up the pieces. The best hosts are invariably comedic actors: Steve Martin, Alec Baldwin and Billy Crystal to name but a few. The people we’d like to see tackle the job? Ricky Gervais, Tom Cruise, Seth MacFarlane, Al Gore and The Muppets. Thanking God in the acceptance speech - God didn’t get you an Oscar, your agent and millions of dollars in networking got you an Oscar. Soap-box Moments - Now a lot of the time the Academy’s decisions sync up with liberal public opinion, and by a lot of the time I of course mean ALL of the time, and this can work pretty well – see Sean Penn winning Best Actor for Milk in order to show solidarity with the gay community after the repeal of Gay Marriage rights in California and Penn’s and screenwriter Dustin Lance Black’s impassioned speeches about equal rights. When it goes wrong however is when you start taking political sides, Michael Moore garnered a mixed reaction for using his Oscar moment to cram as much George Bush abuse in to 30 seconds as was humanly possible but Vanessa Redgrave provoked a hail of boos when going pro-Palestine in her acceptance speech. Redgrave may have had a small point as she was picketed by Zionist groups early that week, however equating all Israelis to ‘Zionist thugs’ wasn’t the most tactful thing to say given her audience.
15
Qupid
Mike Pickering
Drama, 2nd Year “Friendly, Funny, Extrovert.”
After hearing that Fat Cat was the setting for the date I was immediately up for the date, so to be honest I’d say I followed my stomach more than anything on this one. The fact I’d have to sit and chat for two hours to a stranger hadn’t occurred to me. However, it was overall a really enjoyable evening. With the effects of Superbowl Sunday still on my shoulders, and the reassurance that a bottle of wine would help conversation, I didn’t feel too worried upon arriving, although standing silently next to a girl who I thought was ‘blatantly her’
for about 10 minutes did make me feel like a bit of a dick. After finally walking over and introducing myself it was a relief to get chatting and find out what I was in for. I admit I reeled a little when I found out in the first 5 minutes that Gemma is a boxer, but was then pleasantly surprised to find we shared a love for Drapers and vodka (though I’m not sure what that says about us). I knew from then that we’d get on. The arrival of our food made conversation a lot smoother, with any awkward gaps filled with eating and drinking, whilst topics turned to festivals and being broke. As we found various similarities and had a good laugh about the effect of the wine I decided that Gemma is definitely a great person. The date went well, despite the awkwardly cooing waitress asking the painful question ‘do you think you’ll see each other again?’ as we left. My answer to that is: ‘probably’, although I think it’s more likely to be in Drapers or New Globe than on an expensive night at the Ritz. I had a great evening though, so thanks very much Gemma and I recommend this to all you other lonelies!
ww
t-shirt...) I was a little bit worried before we met Environmental Geography, 2nd Year up, as first dates can have the tenden“Honest, Fun, Ambitious.” cy to be a little bit awkward, even when you know a bit about the person beforehand! So when I met Mike I was relieved to find that he was really nice and we actually had quite a lot to talk about. I was interested to hear about his course and what he is doing as it is so different from my experience at university. We turned out to have a pretty similar taste in music as well, and we like a lot of the same bands and festivals. Then, onto the question that separates I decided to sign up for the date for a all QM students into two rival groups: bit of a laugh and obviously there I sup- “What do you think of Drapers?” Luckily, pose there is always the possibility that we’re both the kind of people that love I could meet someone I really get along Drapers, perhaps a little bit too much, with in the process. I’ve tried internet and we went on discuss our shared pasdating before but after getting a few mes- sion for vodka. All in all I had a really sages along the lines of “Hey babe...I’m nice time with Mike, although I think bored, I’m from Hastings and can trav- for both of us it turned out to be more el... straight to the point, do u fancy a friendly than romantic. fuck tonight? x” I decided that I would We didn’t swap phone numbers or probably be less likely to end up going make any plans to meet up again, alout with a pervert if they were someone though I have no doubt it won’t be long from Queen Mary (well, unless I got set until we bump into each other in Drapup with someone who wears a Red Beer ers!
Gemma Thompson
Lonely Hearts
Qupid’s Verdict ‘Here it goes,’ I thought to myself, with fingers crossed as I introduced Mike and Gemma to one another. They were however one step ahead and had already had a chat outside the restaurant. I was hoping that these two would successfully create some kind of love story for the ages. I can vouch that Mike is a lovely guy and Gemma seemed polite and nice from the correspondence we had. I had a quiet word with the barman before hand and asked him to keep an eye our for any sparks of love. He sent me a message at the end of the date letting me know he thinks it went well. Word may have gotten round as the waitress appears to have asked that ‘painful question.’ Oo-er. I hope that they do bump into each other again, under less formal circumstances.
Looking for love this week: Woman, 20s, drama student. WLTM a male with GSOH, creativity and a slightly crazy disposition. Can cook (toast) and tell funny jokes. Male, 20s, post-graduate and in absolute fear of spending another Valentine’s day alone. Amusing and entertaining, WLTM a woman with a smoking hot personality. Male, English student. Tall, blonde. blue eyes. Shallow women need not apply. Likes cooking, reading and finding secret cafes in London.
Do you want to be the next student struck by Qupid’s wandering arrow? You won’t only meet your potential soulmate, but you’ll get a free meal and bottle of wine at the rather lovely Fat Cat Cafe. If you’re interested email Bryony Orr at qupid@cubmagazine.co.uk
Gorgeous ginger on the prowl! Woman in 20s seeks a tall man with an accent- Irish or Scottish preferable! I can sing, dance or let you do all the work! To get in touch with our lonely hearts send an email letting us know who you’re interested in! 16