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Month: May 2021

Solo Dates: Episode 1

Welcome to this new series where I take you along with me on my solo dates in Manchester as I retrace my steps and reflect on my mutterings!

On Monday 17th, the day where all hospitality opened up indoors, I decided to make an occasion out of the day. While it was a Monday and, although my dissertation was submitted, I still had two more assignments, I decided to indulge in this “Back to the Bar” movement and do my work in a cafe instead of my lounge.

I ended up in Foundation, a workspace cafe in the Northern Quarter, full of young creatives and freelancers. I ordered my go-to oat milk flat white and it was a nice change to have my coffee served in an actual mug and saucer rather than a paper takeaway cup.

I got out my laptop and spent almost four consecutive hours doing some uni work while somehow nursing that singular cup of coffee for the entire period of time I was there. Talk about multitasking.

After getting the fifteen-minute warning that they were closing up, I packed up what felt like a suitcase and trotted along the New-York-in-the-1970s-vibe streets of the Northern Quarter.

Photo: David Dixon @ Wikimedia Commons

I took myself sightseeing: the murals, the big pedestrianised square which looks more like Europe than the North of England, and Clampdown Records – the shop the gang from It’s A Sin lived on top of in the Pink Palace.

I wound up in Night and Day to finish off uni work. It probably wasn’t the best idea as I looked a little incongruous sat there with my laptop while everyone sat there downing pints and mixers. I ordered a glass of house rosé to fit in a bit more.

Zoning out with my headphones on, sitting down in the comfort of sofas and heating and plug sockets felt good compared to the pissed-down upon gazebos and rickety patio furniture we’ve called home for the past year and a bit.

Photo: plentyofants @ Wikimedia Commons

After I’d nursed the rosé as best as I could and decided I couldn’t take up an entire table with my laptop and splayed out contents of my tote bag, I packed up my things and headed out – happy with my day’s work. I guess the whole “write drunk, edit sober” philosophy which I held so dear to my heart during first year actually worked out in this instance.

Following some more aimless walking around and people-watching the Monday crowds, I decided to treat myself to dinner. Walking down Tibb Street, I found myself at one of my favourite restaurants in the Northern Quarter – Cocktail Beer Ramen Bun.

In I went, greeted by lovely smiley faces. I was popped onto the bar where I had lots of room for my headphones, notebooks, and Paulo Freire book.

There is something so empowering about going out alone and getting to know yourself the way you would with another person if you were on a date.

I enjoyed the buzz of surrounding phone notifications, broth-slurping, and jargon-heavy chat between the waitresses and bartenders.

I didn’t want to wear my headphones for this, the end of my first official solo date, listening to some obscure Spotify playlist. I wanted to really be on a date with myself. And, I can confirm, I would 100 % go on a second date.

After leaving my little haven of female camaraderie and safety, my feelings of empowerment and pride at being a woman who dared to take up space on her own began to fade. And I hate the fact that it did.

Upon leaving the Northern Quarter and venturing out into Piccadilly Gardens towards the station, I became instantly aware of being a woman and being alone.

Loud and rowdy crowds of men were shouting and screaming, some pushing each other into shop fronts and bus routes, others coming right into my face. I became aware of the fact that these men probably never second-guessed or questioned their existence as a man, let alone a man taking up space.

I had gone from proudly displaying my alone-ness and happily taking up my due space to now trying to make myself as small as possible. Trying to accommodate for the lack of space these men were giving me and the amount of space they so thoughtlessly took up.

Headphones which were previously blasted to volume-level 100 in my ears were now around my neck because I became aware that I needed to have all my senses engaged in case something were to happen.

The keys which were previously in the bottom of my tote were already gripped by my hands, even though I was over half an hour from my front door.

I realised that these little methods of protection and precaution were so innate and second nature to me. So much so that I hadn’t critically analysed their presence in my life until this night. I became frustrated at how quickly I obeyed these codes of conduct.

After over a year of life in lockdown I realised I’d grown naive. I forgot what it was like to be a woman alone in public and this night forced me to remember it all.

It didn’t mar or ruin my night. It didn’t do anything more but result in a few complaints, panicked breathing, and repressed annoyance at sexism. I made the conscious decision to not let this ruin my solo date.

I had spent the day really getting to know myself. Not just myself as a person, but myself as a woman in particular, and the space that I operated and occupied.

While this was my first spontaneous solo outing in a date-form and I definitely wasn’t totally prepared for it, I want to use this new series of Solo Dates to reclaim the space as a woman and as a woman alone.

How radical.

How to read when you have no time

It’s exams and deadline season, so even if you did feel like picking up a book you might not have the time to do so. However, reading makes the perfect study break. Books can be a good way to take your mind off the real world and reading can serve as a much needed screen break during an online exam period.

We have made a list of suggestions to help you keep reading without taking up too much of your time:

1. Try short stories

Short stories offer the same immersive experiences as novels, but with much less of a time commitment. They tend to be able to be read in one sitting, meaning you can’t be itching to get back to it! We recently read and enjoyed Muscle and Mouth by Louise Finnigan.

2. Re-read an old favourite

Try picking up a book you know you love, even if it’s one you loved as a teen. This can be super comforting, and can help you to relax and de-stress. Plus, since you probably already know what is going to happen, you won’t get as gripped!

3. Check out some Instagram poetry 

Switch up your usual insta scroll by consuming some poetry. I would recommend following accounts of established poets, or emerging writers. @nikita_gill regularly posts her poetry on instagram. I personally love the poetry @bibliograbea posts on her account. Bea formerly studied English and American studies at the University of Manchester, and she publishes her poems and book reviews on Instagram. Here’s a sample of her creative writing which was commissioned for The Mancunion titled ‘the last time we went to the library’.

4. Schedule a time to read

If you schedule your reading time as breaks in your revision, or try to do it at the same time everyday, such as just before going to bed, it will be much easier to fit it in. Reading before bed can also help you sleep better.

5. Listen to Audio Books and Podcasts 

Audio books and podcasts are a great solution for tired eyes. After a long day of work the last thing you might fancy doing is reading another book or essay. I would recommend The Lit Review Podcast.

We hope our tips help you to stay relaxed during a busy and stressful period, but don’t beat yourself up if you slip behind with reading goals during exams. It can also be fun to write a summer reading list now, to help you get excited for when you will have the time to get back to reading!

Review: Imran Peretta’s ‘the destructors’

Here’s a sentence that’s been a long time coming: I’m writing this the day after visiting a new exhibition.

On 19 May, the Whitworth Gallery finally made good on its mocking ‘Welcome Back’ banners and opened its doors once more to the great unwashed. Its comeback exhibition is ‘the destructors,’ a film exploring young British Muslim men’s experience of alienation. It’s split between two screens, cutting back and forth between a series of poetic monologues and shots of what looks like the inside of a school or sixth form college (but could, equally, be any generic local authority building).

Trust and mistrust

A running theme throughout the film (which feels shorter than its 25 minutes) is these men’s feeling of being distrusted by British society, as compared with the powerful bonds of trust that exist within their families and friendship circles. The latter is reflected in a series of trust exercises between the four men, filmed from a ‘drone’s-eye perspective’, as they guide one another, blindfolded, across a figurative ‘minefield’ (a sports hall floor covered in halved sports balls) and fall backwards off a bench into what they hope will be supportive arms.

By contrast, the mean speak of how their faith and the colour of their skin mark them out as implicated in terrorist acts. One speaks of a white British man, a stranger, telling him, “I forgive you” – as if there were anything to forgive. They are always on the alert, always waiting to be asked to account for their behaviour: “the balls of my feet ache whenever I hear sirens.” Or, as another says, “We know what we are accused of but not what we have done.”

It sounded disturbingly familiar. I taught for two years in a Muslim-majority school in Tower Hamlets, the east London borough where Peretta workshopped his script. Many of my A level students were so worried about the Islamophobia they expected to face outside of their community that they settled for inferior universities closer to home rather than venture outside of London. I saw firsthand the self-perpetuating nature of ‘social death’ (a sociological term used by Peretta to describe the dehumanising effect of negative stereotypes).

Beyond realism

The film’s script still bears the hallmarks of its origins as a longform poem – to my ear, it occasionally felt stilted and constrained by adherence to form. Some viewers may find this distancing. I have to admit that, for the first few minutes, I was longing for something more naturalistic. I wanted to hear these men speaking in their own words, not their own words having first been processed into a poem by someone else (however good that poem might be).

However, once you adjust to the choice, the poetic language delivers some powerfully moving moments. The last speaker describes caring for his dying mother and struggling to receive assistance from an austerity-wracked welfare state. Musing on what this says about the relative worth of ‘brown bodies’ in the UK, he tells her, “I know why, when you hugged me, you held me so tightly and so long; to remind me that my body belonged to someone, even if it felt like it didn’t belong to me.”

Photo: Sam Burt @Mancunion

At the same time, the decision to split up the screen and have each panel randomly flickering between different shots, fragments the viewer’s attention, making it harder to follow and interpret the poetry. Functionally, this doesn’t make sense but as a representation of how these men’s voices are silenced and overlooked in our society, it works brilliantly.

The film also uses magic realist elements: sinister black smoke infiltrates the building through air vents, while the building slowly floods with water from an unknown source. Peretta has said that his aim was to show black deaths in a non-literal way, to avoid further desensitising white audiences to dead black bodies. He wished “to show violence without showing violence.”

The smoke imagery evokes an external danger seeping into what should be a safe space. I remembered the sense I had in Tower Hamlets, that no matter what we did to make the school safe for the students, we could never entirely protect them from what lay just beyond the school gates. They could watch Islamophobic speeches on their phones whenever and wherever they wanted to – and did.

Imran Peretta’s ‘the destructors’ is available to watch until Autumn 2021. Free tickets must be booked in advance on the website.

The Warehouse Project is finally reopening…

The Warehouse Project has just released the first six upcoming events which will kick start this September. The full calendar line-up will be released in the next coming weeks starting from September 17th until New Year’s Eve.

A WHP press release prepares ravers for the long-awaited return to the dancefloor, getting us all ready for “defining moments and shared experiences with everyone under one roof again for a full spectrum of music and cultural immersion.”

Here’s the run down of all the WHP nights you do not want to get FOMO over:

Friday 17th September

With all events cancelled in 2020 following COVID, the iconic Manchester venue is gearing up to make a powerful comeback Nile Rogers & Chic kicking off the first event. With support from Horse Meat Disco, Norman Jay, DJ Paulette and more – this first event is definitely one to attend.

Saturday 18th September

Photo: @repercussion__ on Instagram

The long-awaited day of Repercussion Festival. With a sick lineup of the best DJs including Tom Misch, Floating Points, Jayda G, Laurent Garnier, DJ Koze, Ben UFO, Call Super, Anz, Moodymann, DJ Seinfeld, Josey Rebelle and Jamz Supernova along with live performances of George Fitzgerald, Mosey Boyd, Kamaal Williams, Jordan Rakei and Soul II Soul – this festival may just salvage your lack of social life for the past year and a bit!

Friday 24th September

All hail Drum and Bass! Metropolis will be hosting legends like Andy C, Sub Focus, Wilkinson, High Contrast, Hype & Randall this night. To satisfy all your raving cravings, this is the event for you! From 8 till late (and I mean late, not just 11 p.m. curfew late) blow off steam with your Drum and Base dreams!

Saturday 25th September

Peggy Gou and Honey Dijon. Need I say more?

Friday 1st October

With Eric Prydz headlining and coming back to the Depot for the first time in 9 years – you definitely want to get yourself down there to zone out to his iconic Call on Me single which made him famous way back in the noughties!

Saturday 2nd October

The following day hosts Jamie Jones, Joseph Capriati, Ben Sterling, and many more great talent with a wide range of deep-house, electronic, and dance music to keep you going all night long!

Tickets for The Warehouse Project go on sale at 10 a.m. Thursday May 27th.

Find more information on the events here.

Mancunian Visions: Nicola Ellis

Nicola Ellis‘ workspace is not your typical artist’s studio.

For the last two years, she’s been ensconced in a factory that makes electrical enclosures, as artist-in-resident at Ritherdon & Co Ltd. Her forthcoming solo exhibition at Castlefield Gallery will seek to ‘bring the rhythms, sounds and material of manufacturing into the gallery space in unexpected ways.’

How did she end up spending her days making sculptures and paintings inside a working factory? Why is industrial ‘ecology’ an enduring fascination for her? And how does she hope to share that fascination with the rest of us? I recently caught up with her to find out.

“Not totally unfamiliar territory”

From an early age, Ellis was surrounded by makers. Her father worked in steel profiling, and most of her family in an industrial setting of some kind.

It seems only natural that when she caught the art bug in school, her practice had a materialist bent. Ellis mentions one inspirational art teacher who got them funding to blow up an old musical instrument and film it. It seemed, as she said, that “artists could do whatever they wanted. As if they had endless freedom.”

Nicola Ellis’ ‘Dead Powder’ series. Photo: Jules Lister c/o the artist

After studying Fine Art, Ellis found her father’s trade came in handy. When scrounging in scrapyards for junk metal, she could use it for her sculptures. Many of the materials she used were only loaned to her; she was expected to return them once the exhibition was over. This gave her sculptures a literal impermanence.

Did she ever feel sentimental about letting them go? “Not a bit!” To this day, she sees the artworks she makes from waste materials as just one stage of many in the material’s life cycle. Her ‘Dead Powder’ series, for instance, consists of metal sheets plastered with runoff powder paints leftover by the factory.

“Horrible, sweaty, hardcore”

Her introduction to Ritherdon – a family-run factory in Darwen, Lancashire – came with a 10-week residency back in 2018.

In situ, Ellis draws on a tradition of artists temporarily inhabiting industrial and government spaces. This began in the 1960s with the Artist Placement Group. The APG wanted to start conversations about the ‘value’ of the arts in society. Also, what an artistic perspective might reveal about these ‘functional’ places. She described her approach to being what some have termed an ‘incidental person’ as “constantly responding to a shifting environment, in the most planned way possible.”

At the risk of being blunt, I asked Ellis what interests her, as an artist. Specifically about the inner workings of a factory. Is it not a little bit…mundane?

Photo: GS Visuals c/o the artist

She was quick to stress that her interest lies not in factories per se, but in Ritherdon – “a super-stimulating environment” – and the workers she interacts with. Her art is site-specific. What fascinates her seems to be the things that get taken for granted in a workplace. Mainly because they are so familiar. And the thing that is perhaps most taken for granted – in a factory as well as, one could argue, in society at large – is the skill of making things well, exercised daily.

Ellis’ “huge respect” for a hands-on job done well, over and over, relates to her working-class roots. She admitted that her passion has driven her into practices that might, to anyone else, seem “totally perverse”, such as her decision “to use weld as a material in itself.” This, she joked, was her manual version of 3D printing “before everyone else started doing it” – a painstakingly laboured process of building up an artefact from iterated lines of weld. It was a “horrible, sweaty and oppressive” job…but somebody had to do it!

Mission impossible?

On a personal level, her enthusiasm is infectious but her challenge is to translate her fascination with Ritherdon – which comes from being steeped in its atmosphere over several years – into a gallery where it can be appreciated and experienced by people who’ve never stepped foot inside the factory. She admits this “might be impossible”, but how does she intend to try?

She described an example from the Castlefield exhibition: a pair of strip-lights suspended from the ceiling, which will flash on and off in real-time synchronicity with workers using welding booths back at the factory. This is just one of the ways she tries “to humanise and celebrate” the masses of data the factory routinely collects to optimise its processes.

Photo: Mark Blease c/o the artist

As our conversation drew to a close, I asked if she had some advice for new arts graduates. “This is the only one of your questions I made proper notes for!” she replied eagerly, while I tried not to feel too offended.

First, keep at it, every day (even if just for 30 minutes). Second, don’t be too satisfied with external opportunities, commissions, etc., but use these as platforms to make your own opportunities and set your own direction. Finally, “be self-critical all the time, in a super-logical way”, drawing on your non-artistic skills and experience to support your practise.

And what does the future hold for Ellis? For now, she is happy to stay put, and feels lucky to be a part of Ritherdon for the foreseeable future. But throughout her stay so far, what has caught her eye and imagination has continually changed, so one thing seems certain: it will not be business as usual.

‘Nicola Ellis and Ritherdon & Co Ltd: No gaps in the line’ will run at the Castlefield Gallery from 13 June until 1 August. Visitors can pre-book at the gallery website.

In conversation with Rachel Chinouriri, an exciting new voice in British alt-pop

The UK has a long history of producing excellent and emotive female vocalists. Everyone from Dusty Springfield to Adele has graced world stages, and in recent years, several key British pop music vocalists have begun to venture away from traditional pop formats and towards more alternative influences. Born and raised in Croydon and taking inspiration from Coldplay to Ladysmith Black Mambazo, Rachel Chinouriri is an exciting presence among these new voices in British pop.

Though she garnered attention after a string of acoustic singles from 2018 onwards, it’s Chinouriri’s latest offerings that are starting to create serious buzz and rack up hundreds of thousands of Spotify streams. ‘Darker Place’, her first single of 2021, combines steadfast pop sensibilities with an alternative, slightly eerie groove, and was accompanied by an excellent Joe Goddard remix. Her latest offering ‘Through The Eye’ develops this sound further, and manages to evoke both Lorde and more electronic acts like Bicep. The Mancunion chatted to Chinouriri about her approach to songwriting, the alt-pop scene in London, and her plans for the next year. 

You were the first in your family to be born in the UK, and grew up in a Zimbabwean household in Croydon. How has that influenced the music you write?

I would say it’s had some sort of influence because growing up, I was sheltered from a lot of things musically. So a lot of ‘classic music’ that people grew up listening to – I’d never heard it. Because my parents were Christian immigrants who were like “Nope – you’re not listening to music of the world.” “Christian music or African music, that’s all.”

Definitely when I was younger, I was stopped from listening to a lot of stuff. So discovering things like Coldplay and Daughter, that was like my secret thing I would do in my house. But I still had the influence of African music with the harmonies and stuff. I would say harmonies in general are one of my biggest influences. I feel like the little influences I had kind of made me come up with my own sort of sound, and way of singing.

Your music has started taking off just as everything around us has been shutting down. How has that affected the way you approach the songs you’re writing?

I always try to worry about how songs will sound live. When you perform live, there are so many people who are open to discovering something new, so I need to make sure that when they hear it they’re not going to walk to the next place and be like “alright, that was boring.” I need to make sure when they hear it they’re gonna be like “Oh! Ok – that was interesting.” Especially when we’re finishing up a song, I’m in the studio trying to dance it out and figure it out. 

You’ve worked with producers from Joe Goddard to p-rallel; is the alternative electronic scene in the UK one that you’re moving towards?

I would say [alternative electronic is] definitely the sound I’m gravitating to in ways… There’s elements of what they do that I want to interpret into my own music. I do want to try and mix the indie sound with a bit of alternative; a bit of electronic; a bit of pop, and try to make that my own sound.

Your earlier releases were a lot more acoustic, but the newer stuff has much fuller production, with new sounds incorporated. When you first began writing songs, who were the key inspirations?

Daughter, definitely… Coldplay is a band which I loved when I was really young, and then there’s Ladysmith Black Mambazo. Those three were, like, my inspirations growing up. I like how with Coldplay, there’s always a story being told. With Daughter, I love the ambience, and that sort of electronic vibe. I love that sort of sound. And then Ladysmith Black Mambazo; it’s the harmonies, and the way that they use the voice as an instrument. That’s the combination of inspirations I’ve had growing up. 

In recent years, attention on London artists from minority backgrounds has moved away from a strictly grime or drill focus, and there’s a host of indie and alternative artists coming to the fore.

Do you feel as though there’s a scene there? Would you consider yourself part of that?

I definitely see it as a scene that I want to be more a part of. I feel like as a black person, there are genres that are predominantly made by black people – like grime, drill, RnB, etc. I’d say starting out in music, it was very hard to break out of the RnB stereotype. Like, a lot of people who didn’t know what I looked like would listen to my songs and go “oh this is kind of indie, this is kind of pop”. As soon as people would see me, they’d go “Oh! You kind of sound like Lauryn Hill actually!”. And I’m like “no, no I don’t”.

“Oh you know what, you could be really like soul and r&b!” – that’s not what I am at all. Starting to see more people such as Master Peace and Arlo Parks – you know, minority people who are branching into more genres – I feel like there’s really a space for us.

You mentioned being placed in genre boxes. What’s your method for trying to find your own sound?

I feel like I’ve had a lot of time to be open and experiment. But now, from the years I’ve had writing, I’ve definitely found how to navigate myself when working with new producers. I would say, before 2020, my managers put me with so many different people, and they were like “just experiment, see how to conduct yourself in a session”. But now in 2021, I know which things work for me.

I know when I make a song that sounds like my song, and not just a song that I know will never come out. So I’ve managed to find a way where it’s like,”these are my influences”; alternative stuff – I love Sampha and stuff like that, showing my influences, and being able to tell the producer that these are the elements I like from these people. “Let’s make a song with it,” but also stay true to myself.

Talk to me about Darker Place. What were you drawing from for that song?

With ‘Darker Place’, the producer I was working with, Jamie Lloyd Taylor [and I] were discussing crime documentaries, conspiracy theories and all sorts of crazy stuff. We started playing in a bass line, and from then, for that song, we definitely focused a lot more on the singing, and the lyrics, and how to make it sound kind of creepy.

That’s why I’m whispering – the attitude and delivery was the priority in that. And then making the production feel like it’s sparse, but still quite saturated. That was the approach we had for ‘Darker Place’: something that could still work live or when it’s played on radio, but to always remember that there’s this dark undertone to it. 

A year from now, what are you hoping to have released? Where do you see yourself as an artist in a year’s time?

RC: I feel like in a year’s time, I want to be able to have built a body of work – let’s say like an album. I want to have built something that I’m so proud of, where I’m like “this is the best thing I’ve written” at that moment in time.

I want to be able to make a project that you can’t skip, like every single song has a meaning within it. That’s what my priority has started to become. Based on the experiences I’ve had this year and last year, I feel like next year I’ll be able to have a definite thing, like: this is Rachel Chinouriri, this is what I am, this is what I do. Before I was definitely experimenting, but now I feel like I definitely know my sound, and I know what I want to be seen as. 

How would you describe that sound?

It would be full of sorrow, both electronic and acoustic, and it would be heartbreakingly beautiful. You’d play it on vinyl and it’d, like, absorb your whole brain. Something along that group of words. 

To wrap up, how would you introduce Rachel Chinouriri to people who have never heard of you before?

I would want people to know that I wear my heart on my sleeve. I would want them… Gosh! It’s like I don’t know but I do know. I just want people to know that I’m being as vulnerable as I am as a person. I want them to openly listen to what I have to say, with an open mind and open heart, and try and understand the story. The story is always my priority. If I was to pitch it, I’d say listen to me with an open heart, and try to understand where my heart is when I write anything.”

This interview has been edited for clarity.

Does non-fiction mean dry? A look into Best Documentary 2021 nominees

Looking down the list of Oscar winners I was disappointed but not surprised to see My Octopus Teacher take home the award for Best Documentary Feature. Made in South Africa and shot over a period of ten years, it follows filmmaker Craig Foster who, following unspecified emotional turmoil, develops a remarkable relationship with an octopus that changes his outlook on the world. Through narration, Foster reflects on his experiences diving in a kelp forest with simplistic, romanticised platitudes about the balance of nature.

It is as if Timothy Treadwell, the tragic star of Werner Herzog’s similar but philosophically opposed documentary Grizzly Man, had made a film. The anthropomorphism that Foster and Treadwell project onto their chosen wilds is ultimately self-serving. Despite Foster’s efforts to understand the kelp forest on its own terms I don’t think he succeeds, in the end relying too much on received wisdoms about the mystic harmony of “nature”.

Personally, I didn’t come away from the film knowing or feeling any different than before. However, the footage he captures and the relationship between him and the octopus is extraordinary, so maybe watch it on mute.

Although remarkable, My Octopus Teacher is a dry documentary, very unlike the other nominees that give emotionally driven, tender, and often humorous insights into unseen worlds.

Foster’s role as an outsider becoming a part of another world is repeated to much greater effect in The Mole Agent. As the titular “mole”, 83-year-old Sergio Chamy is embedded in a nursing home to uncover alleged abuses by the staff. What transpires is far more emotionally engaging than one could expect.

The reality that he discovers is that the residents suffer mostly from loneliness and a lack of emotional intimacy. Despite this, it is a gentle but frank watch as Sergio (the Gentleman, as other residents affectionately label him) becomes an integral part of the community.

Sergio is as much a subject of the documentary as a participant, with some of the footage we see clandestinely recorded by him. Blurring this formal line can be deeply intimate and is becoming increasingly common in documentaries, not least as the tools to film become ubiquitous.

Time makes use of 20 years of family home video, almost compulsively recorded by activist and mother of six, Sybil Richardson, to tell the story of a family whose lives have been warped by the incarceration of her husband.

Robert, an African-American man, was given an effective life sentence for armed robbery, leading to Sybil’s relentless campaign for his release. What we see is how the heart of family life, the raison d’etre of all its members, is shaped by the reality of incarceration and the fight for freedom.

Three things stand out in this film. Firstly, the tremendous inner strength and resilience of Richardson’s struggles with set-backs to force authorities, through sheer willpower alone, to take her seriously. Secondly, the pressure the campaign exerts on the whole family is captured beautifully, permeating every facet of family life and forcing all the children into the mould of “model” American citizens. Finally, the intimacy and easy charm of the home video helps reinforce the aberration of their situation while the black-and-white photography visually emphasises the bleak realities of the justice system. Time is an obviously contemporary documentary that grounds headlines in a family’s story.

Sybil Richardson’s grit is also reflected in the subject of another nominee: Judith Heumann and the American disabled rights movement. Crip Camp makes the case that Heumann belongs alongside the hallowed names of Martin Luther King, Harvey Milk and Gloria Steinem. A remarkable and charismatic organiser, she successfully campaigned for legislative change and provides a great case study in classic, grass roots activism done right.

At the roots of the movement is Camp Jened, a place where disabled kids can escape to in the summer to (mis)behave like any other teenager. Seeing the respect, liberation, independence, teenage romance and, above all, fun that Camp Jened enabled is glorious and clearly central in the main characters becoming successful activists.

Although often tragic, Crip Camp is fundamentally about joy, and trades noble stoicism for a bashful grin as interviewees recount funny and awkward anecdotes. In doing so, it takes the story out of a dry civics lesson and fills it with real affection that does much to deflate the stigma of appearance and capability that stalks many disabled people.

While Crip Camp is an optimistic shot of how change is possible, the Romanian doc Collective is the bitter chaser. It follows a team of journalists at a tabloid paper as they uncover systemic corruption in Romania’s health system in the aftermath of a terrible fire at a nightclub. It reminded me of the investigation into the construction of Grenfell Tower, which has revealed rot at the heart of the construction industry.

Collective, with its impassive, Spotlight-esque cinematography, demonstrates the particular difficulty of political struggle in the age of neo-liberalism and exposes how corruption works in the 21st century. Because of, rather than despite, the film’s un-cinematic presentation, the audience is pulled into the reality of the story. The casual callousness of those in authority and their enablers, juxtaposed with the stories of survivors and families of the dead creates a striking and engaging film. It might not be the most memorable of the nominees, but is effective in the moment.

Foster’s project to understand the world from an alien perspective is a seam that runs through the 2021 Oscar nominees. In subjects ranging from the disabled, incarcerated, the elderly, and even everyday people, these films seek to draw our emotional attention to perspectives that are often ground out of public imagination. In tender, insightful, often humorous ways, these films offer a more well-rounded view of the world today.

It feels as if we’re in an age where the Academy does seem to be more willing to recognise interesting or adventurous fiction films. It is hard to imagine an inoffensive slog like The King’s Speech, The Blind Side or Crash gaining much traction outside acting categories as South Korean thrillers and fish-people romances take the Best Picture award.

That adventurous spirit is less present in the documentary category unfortunately, as the trite (My Octopus Teacher) or the mediocre (American Factory in 2019) trump the likes of Crip Camp and For Sama while the acclaimed Boys State and Dick Johnson is Dead fail to even be nominated. This is an exciting era for the documentary format. Don’t take the Academy’s word for it.

Crip Camp and My Octopus Teacher are available to stream on Netfilx.

The Mole Agent and Collective are available on BBC iPlayer as part of the Storyville series.

Time is available on Amazon Prime.

Album review: Chemtrails Over The Country Club by Lana Del Rey

Following a masterpiece isn’t easy. Lana Del Rey’s 2019 album Norman Fucking Rockwell was one of the most universally acclaimed albums of that year, if not the entire decade, and certainly the most acclaimed of the artist’s career. When it was announced that her next album, also produced by Jack Antonoff, would be released the following year expectations were understandably high.

Of course, a lot can happen in a year. For starters, the COVID pandemic delayed the release of the album to 2021. In the meantime, Lana managed to repeatedly find herself in hot water for her frequently out of touch statements and behaviour, including the highly questionable “question for the culture” moment, and a saga involving a mask that may or may not be COVID-friendly. All of this arguably put even more pressure on the singer to effectively ‘prove herself’ on her newest album.

Well, that album is here and, if Chemtrails Over The Country Club shows anything it is that Lana Del Rey doesn’t feel the need to prove herself at all anymore. This album, released with very little fanfare, finds Lana at her most subdued, quiet and personal. Considering some of her recent statements, it is also blissfully non-political.

It’s a rather short album at 45 minutes, in stark contrast to the 60-minute-plus runtimes of her two previous albums. Thematically, the album covers similar ground to her previous work, feeling like another chapter of a seemingly endless late summer road-trip through California and rural America. It finds Lana increasingly disillusioned by the West Coast lifestyle, singing about her desire to leave LA on the rather low-key lead single ‘Let Me Love You Like A Woman’, and inviting a lover to come with her to Arkansas (inexplicably pronounced incorrectly) on ‘Tulsa Jesus Freak’.

Chemtrails finds Lana leaning deeper into folk and country influences first explored on 2017’s Lust For Life. Sonic and lyrical references to Joni Mitchell culminate in a cover of Mitchell’s ‘For Free’, with guest appearances from Zella Day and Weyes Blood, the latter of whom is quite literally given the last word on this album.

Especially country tinged is the song ‘Breaking Up Slowly’, featuring uncredited vocals from Nikki Lane. It would be an exaggeration to label this an entirely folk/country album, however, as a few songs hearken back to her more pop-driven roots. Of particular note is album standout ‘Dark But Just A Game’, a playful, rock-tinged meditation on fame that seems to draw some influence sonically from Radiohead, as well as some of Lana’s earlier music.

A frequent accusation levelled against Lana’s music is that much of it sounds more or less the same. On Chemtrails, this criticism may be somewhat true for the song ‘Wild at Heart’, which sounds just a bit too much like a few songs off Norman Fucking Rockwell, particularly ‘How to Disappear’ and ‘Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have’.

Nonetheless, Chemtrails does feature some surprising moments of experimentalism. Lana’s vocals on the chorus of ‘White Dress’ are even more delicate and breathy than usual, to the point of almost being grating. Yet ‘Dance Till We Die’ features an uncharacteristic rock and blues influenced bridge right at its end. Especially unexpected is the use of autotune on ‘Tulsa Jesus Freak’, a hip-hop inspired flourish that meshes surprisingly well in such an otherwise stripped back album.

It would be unfair to say that Chemtrails Over The Country Club represents a sophomore slump for Lana Del Rey and Jack Antonoff as a duo. Following an album as indisputably magnificent as Norman Fucking Rockwell was never going to be an easy task, and it isn’t surprising that this new album feels rather slight in comparison. Still, it is cohesive, very listenable and beautifully produced. It represents another respectable entry in an illustrious and prolific decade-long career for an artist who was widely written off as a fad in 2012.

7/10

International Cinema: Africa and the Middle East

Africa and the Middle East are regions offering an unbelievably wide range of stories. From universal masterpieces awarded at major film festivals, through painful reminders of endless wars, to stories deconstructing the colonialist myths, our writers compiled a list of their favourite films from Africa and the Middle East.


Black Girl (1960) – Freddie Johnson

The first feature film to come from sub-Saharan Africa, Black Girl is a major landmark of cinema. It is a study of post-colonial alienation, following the dreams-to-ashes story of Diouanna, the titular Black Girl. In the eyes of her employers, a French family repatriated after Senegal’s independence, that is all she is. 

There is a seething calmness and pride to the way Diouanna carries herself, mirrored in the film’s presentation and its restrained but passionate craft.

Now known as “the father of African cinema”, Sembene taught himself to read while working as a docker in post-War France. Inspired by Marxism, he became a revolutionary and wrote his way to the top of the African cultural scene. Black Girl stands as a testament to the lie of post-colonialism and a defiantly African view of the stylish ‘60s.


Cairo Station (1958) – W.G. Jones

Legendary Egyptian director Youssef Chahine’s masterpiece explores social issues in 1950s Egypt through the lens of Qinawi, an extremely poor and crippled newspaper salesman in the Cairo train station. For good reason, Cairo Station remains the sole representative of Egyptian cinema on the famous 1001 Movies to See Before You Die list.

The film is beautifully shot, yet grounded in its era of rapid social change underpinned by brutal violence. Despite the film being firmly well adjusted to its time, the issues explored are more relevant than ever. Workers rights are paramount to the film, with central characters exploring how protest can pressure change in a new society.

Cairo Station takes an earnest approach in exploring what would today be called inceldom, while maintaining that the role of the society is to hold all its members to certain standards. Never before has the concept of extreme social isolation been more relevant than in the era of COVID, and, if for no reason other than this, Cairo Station is worth a stream.

A must watch for any foreign film enthusiast, Cairo Station is currently streaming on Netflix UK.


Mosul (2019) – Joe McFadden

In many ways Mosul is a typical war movie that is strengthened by the unfortunate case – it is about a forgotten war that is still raging in some capacity to this day. It follows a group of Iraqi tactical policemen as they fight ISIS in the war-torn city of Mosul.

Mosul is a refreshing take on the war genre that is bolstered by a genuine message and an appreciation for the Middle East and its culture that is often lost in mainstream American movies. Being told the story from the perspective of Iraqi natives is refreshing and the lack of Western forces or ideals present in the film is welcome. 

Although it is still a fairly typical war movie that features numerous cliches we’ve come to expect, it offers strong action sequences, well-written characters and some levels of depth and nuance. Mosul is a strong effort that shows war movies about the Middle East can be made without the usual Americanised, white saviour narrative tropes that hold the war genre back.


Rafiki (2018) – Emilie Mbock

First noticed and awarded at the 2018 Cannes Festival, Rafiki is a Kenyan social drama half in English, half in Swahili. It recounts the romance between Kena and Ziki, two young Kenyan women, evolving in a both misogynistic and homophobic environment. Both being daughters of local political opponents, the movie follows the African Romeo and Juliet’s lead of the forbidden love narrative while modernising it. 

Its aptness in tackling LGBTQ+ and women’s rights in modern Kenya is only as good as its simple but polished cinematography. Samantha Mugatsia and Sheila Munyiva’s acting is brilliant under Wanuri Kahiu’s direction.


Taste of Cherry (1997) – Michal Wasilewski

Abbas Kiarostami’s Cannes-winning Taste of Cherry is easily one of my ultimate feel-good films. Centring around a middle-aged man, Mr. Badii, the film doesn’t reveal its cards immediately. We observe Badii driving around the suburbs of Tehran, asking random men if they could help him with ‘something’ in exchange for money. Is he looking for sex or for an accomplice for some kind of criminal activity? It turns out to be neither of those – he intends to commit suicide and needs someone to bury him afterwards. 

Through subtle conversations and meditative long shots, Taste of Cherry searches for the beauty of this world. Even if all the hope seems to be lost, and the grand scheme of things doesn’t play out the way we want to, there is always something to keep us alive. And it might be something as simple as sunlight shining through the cherry trees.


Timbuktu (2014) – Freddie Johnson 

For a long time, I didn’t believe Timbuktu existed. I thought it was a mythical city that draws Europeans to search for it like flies to a bug-zapper.

But Timbuktu does exist. Real people live there and in 2012 it was occupied by Islamists during the Malian Civil War. This film captures the lives of the people of the region as they attempt to negotiate the humiliation of day-to-day life under the Islamists.

It is a beautiful film, particularly the scenes set amongst a rural Tuareg family. It is sometimes tense, but above all moving as this strange and seemingly distant conflict arrives to disrupt the lives of the central characters.

Perhaps the most brilliant scenes are those spent with the Islamists themselves. Lost men from across Africa and the Middle East, trying to assert themselves in a world they feel left them behind. It isn’t a defence – their crimes are equally documented – but it does help us understand. Timbuktu is an example of cinema at its height.

In conversation with Catalog Bookshop

Catalog Bookshop is a Manchester based bookseller on wheels. Peter launched his business, which specialises in periodicals, via a community crowdfunding drive. The company has a sustainable business model, promoting environmentally-friendly activities which aim to unite the local community.

The bookshop is based outside Manchester Metropolitan University on Oxford Road, and it is only a short walking distance from Hatch. Next time you’re near university and fancy a study break, check out the selection of periodicals Catalog Bookshop have on offer.

To find out more about Catalog Bookshop and its creation we went into conversation with Peter, the business owner.

Q&A with Catalog Bookshop

Catalog provides a bookshop service based on wheels. What inspired the idea for the stall?

So, in order to answer your question I’ll have to take you back a few years to explain how a Greek ended up living in the UK. I moved to the UK back in 2011 in order to continue my studies in economics. Fast forward 10 years, with a career in retail, hospitality, and finance, there came a day when I realized that I wasn’t getting any joy from my work. Hence why I decided to try a new career pathway.

Living in Manchester for over 5 years I became a Magma fanatic. I fell in love with the independent titles, the books, and the vibe every time I stepped inside this bookshop. When contemplating what my next career move should be I thought that it might be worth trying to turn my passion into work. I have been quite the bookworm since childhood. Also, I’ve always had the desire to create a space where people from all walks of life can come together to communicate their ideas, needs, interests, and their quirks. I saw an opportunity for a space that serves both the needs and wants of the local community.

The idea of going mobile wasn’t present at that time. My focus was at Hatch. I was about to move my business there before the pandemic struck! As you can imagine all my business plans had to be put on hold. I was quite lucky that just before the pandemic I was able to go on a short trip to Copenhagen. This trip planted the idea for a bookshop on wheels. Seeing how the Danes have incorporated bicycles into their way of living and doing things was phenomenal!

So the financial uncertainty going into a pandemic as a new business having a shop along with my love for the printed world; inspiration taken from the independent shops that I have come across on my travels; as well as by the Scandinavian indie scene and way of living transformed my original idea into a mobile bookshop.

Also, I wanted to offer a more sustainable way of doing business. The idea was to focus on the development of the Greater Manchester Bee Network. The council developed the network so it can try and connect every neighbourhood and community in Greater Manchester. The mission is to make it easier for people to get around on foot or on bike.

So you decided to base Catalog Bookshop on wheels, what next?

After I made the decision to go mobile it was time for me to find the best cargo bike which could accommodate my needs. Christiania bikes seemed to be a no brainer. I chose the Christiania No Box +30 model specifically because I wanted a highly customisable cargo bike.

Next thing, I had to find a designer who understood my vision. I was lucky to find Nick from Studio Critical. Nick developed a mobile bookstore that allows for indie periodicals to be brought to the streets of Manchester. He has blended the practicality of industrial design with the sustainability of the Nordic minimalism. The most amazing thing is that every little component folds and fits like a jigsaw! It’s truly amazing!

What role has crowd-funding and the indie book buying community played in relation to the launch of Catalog Bookshop?

The idea for the crowdfunding was more of a way to spread the word about Catalog and what we are trying to offer to the local community rather than a way to fully fund the project. We were overwhelmed by people’s donations and simple messages of support. The funds that we managed to gather were used as a deposit for the bike.

How the pandemic affected your business?

COVID didn’t have a real impact on Catalog simply because during the pandemic we were building our little bike bookshop. What the pandemic gave us is precious time to work methodically towards the completion of our project and an insight to what the market might look like coming out of lockdown.

What are your business hours?

We are open Tuesday to Saturday from 10am till 6pm and Sunday from 11am till 4pm.

Periodicals are proving popular despite the rise of digital media. What’s your favourite publication you currently have available?

We understand that we live in a growing digital world. But here at Catalog we support the resurgence of small businesses built on face-to-face customer interactions. At a time when social bonds are fraying, I am hoping that Catalog will have the power to create a sense of community and that it will become a hive of activity for those who are passionate about independent print, arts, culture, and design. An Aladdin’s Cave of independent magazines, journals, books, and stationery. We want to create an oasis for the lovers of the printed page.

At Catalog, we are trying hard to carefully curate our stock and everything is very much tailored towards the demands of our customers. One of my favourite titles at the moment is Sixteen Journal. The issues are dedicated to Japanese photography.

I really like the outdoor setup of the stall, but how do you manage with the rainy Manchester conditions?

When we first started trading we had the weather on our side with lovely sunshine that lasted for a few weeks. Unfortunately this didn’t last long. The weather reminded us we live in Manchester! The last couple weeks our trading hours have been affected by the bad weather and rain but we have a solution coming this week! We are hoping to stay dry and protected under a pop up gazebo.

Catalog Bookshop states its environmental and social commitments. How do you maintain those values?

Catalog aims to carry out its activities in a way that minimizes environmental impact on a whole lifecycle analysis basis. Additionally, our approach extends to the use of materials within the business, packaging, transport, etc.

Our business model is designed to do good. It’s circular and sustainable and we believe in making a positive impact in the world and in building a better business that helps us to do more good. Hence why within our first year in operation we will apply to become a certified B Corp.

Certified B Corporations (B Corps™) are for-profit companies that use the power of business to build a more inclusive and sustainable economy. They are businesses that meet the highest standards of verified social and environmental performance, public transparency, and legal accountability to balance profit and purpose. In short, we care about people and the planet.

What are your future plans for Catalog Bookshop?

It’s still early days but I am already making plans for next year… Maybe a shipping container turned into a walk-in cave for the lovers of the printed world!

Check out Catalog Bookshop on Oxford Road and the range of periodicals they have on sale. You can also show some support for @catalog_manchester by following their social media.

‘Being trans and doing trans’ in Detransition, Baby

Content warning: abuse, miscarriage

Torrey Peters’ Detransition, Baby focuses on ‘being trans and doing trans’. The novel considers the questions of ‘being’ and ‘doing’ trans by exploring motherhood within the trans community.

The novelist has spoken about the use of trans as both an adjective and a verb in interviews. The author shared with Dazed magazine that: ‘For me, there’s always been a question of being trans and doing trans’. Peters states that ‘Whether or not you’re living as a trans woman’ that question still applies.

Detransition, Baby

Detransition, Baby focuses on the lives of Reese, Ames and Katrina. Reese is a transgender woman in her thirties who lives in New York and longs for a child. Ames is Reese’s ex, and they formerly went under the name of ‘Amy’ before they detransitioned. Both characters are white. Prior to the detransition Ames was mothered by Reese. The novel reflects upon trans motherhood and the kinship structures that are used to bond older and younger members of the community.

Reese and Ames lost contact with each other following Ames’ detransition. The novel sets this past relationship alongside Ames’ entanglement with Katrina. However, Katrina is both Ames’ boss and baby mother. Katrina is mixed race and discusses how she’s been able to ‘pass’ in white culture.

Katrina and Ames work together on projects at a corporate marketing firm. The relationship between the two moves beyond the strictly professional as it takes on a romantic dimension. Katrina becomes pregnant in the course of the novel. The decision to keep the child and start a family is agonised over. Katrina’s anxiety over the baby stems from her career and whether Ames is willing to start a family. However, Ames’ concern stems from the pressure he feels to conform to a ‘father’ figure role.

Ames would prefer to parent a child rather than father one. So, he suggests they form a trans family support network. The family structure Ames proposes involves both Katrina and Reese as the mothers of the child. Ames has detransitioned, but he strongly desires to adopt a trans family formation which moves beyond the heteronormative nuclear family model.

‘Divorce is a transition story’

Heterosexuality as an institution is interrogated throughout the novel. Katrina is a divorced woman who is experiencing what is medically termed as a ‘geriactric pregnancy’. The anxiety about the pregnancy stems from a multitude of factors for Katrina, including her own age.

Reese and Katrina are both aware of the fact this might be their one chance to be mothers. During their first meeting Reese professes her love for divorced women. Reese says that ‘Divorce is a transition story’.

Katrina cites the reason for her divorce as ‘the Ennui of Heterosexuality’. But, she shares that people find it easier to accept her miscarriage as the cause of the split.

Peters has openly spoken about her love for divorced cis women. This love is reflected in the dedication of Detransition, Baby which speaks ‘To divorced cis women, who, like me, had to face starting their life over without either reinvesting in the illusions from the past, or growing bitter about the future.’

Throughout the novel the past, present and future of the characters is discussed in depth. Detransition, Baby plays with time and temporality by centering on the conception of the baby. The chapters which focus on the present deliberations over the baby are framed by the conception date. For example, ‘Six weeks after conception’. Whereas the chapters which focus on the past and Ames’ and Reeses’ past relationship are recorded as ‘Eight years before conception’.

The chapter titles highlights the significance of the pregnancy to all three characters. In particular, Reese and Katrina are brought together as a result of the pregnancy.

The Women’s Prize for Fiction and online attacks

Detransition, Baby advocates for a form of trans-feminism which unifies female cis divorcees and trans women. The feminism the novel promotes sits at odds with the conservative attack of the novel by the Wild Women Writing Club.

The critique of the novel by the Wild Women Writing Club has been depressingly ‘bitter’. However, Torrey Peters’ novel Detransition, Baby has received an outpouring of support following the online attack. The digital open letter was explicitly transphobic and directed at the inclusion of Torrey Peters’ novel on the Women’s Prize for Fiction 2021 long list.

The narrow-minded attack which focuses on Peters’ identity as a transgender woman puts forward essentialist arguments about gender. The letter was condemned by the Women’s Prize who defended their decision to include Detransition, Baby in the list. However, the novel did not make it to the shortlist which Aileen Loftus covered for the Mancunion last week.

‘The whole reason transsexuals transition is because gender matters so incredibly much’

The open letter shows how conservatives in the twenty-first century remain obsessed with binary ideas about gender and sex. Detransition, Baby examines this obsession from a detransitioned perspective. Ames chats about his past with Katrina following the announcement of the pregnancy. During the conversation Katrina says that ‘it seems like trans people are starting to be everywhere, that maybe gender doesn’t matter that much’. But, Ames replies that ‘The whole reason transsexuals transition is because gender matters so incredibly much’.

The attack from the Wild Women Writing Club reinforces the hyper-fixation on gender. I feel ‘bitter’ that such gender binaries are being viciously reproduced. However, I am also uplifted by the support Detransition, Baby has received in the aftermath of the letter.

Torrey Peters’ novel reflects on motherhood, race and transphobia. It is worth taking your time to sit with the novel and digest it because it contains powerful dialogue.

‘Daddy’s Home’: St Vincent’s soulful 70s masterpiece

Annie Clark, aka St Vincent’s highly anticipated sixth studio album Daddy’s Home has finally arrived, and it certainly surpasses expectations. Clark continues to experiment and reinvent herself on this album, as with 2014’s Grammy-winning St Vincent and 2017’s Masseduction. Unlike its predecessors, this record delves masterfully into the sounds of soul and funk. It begs the question: is there anything St Vincent cannot do?

It is fair to say that Daddy’s Home is a massive departure from the grinding guitars and electronica of Masseduction. Clark told The Guardian that she wanted “to play and be truly free and in the flow. […] For things to have the logic of water instead of skyscrapers.” This may explain why her signature spikey guitar riffs have been replaced by serene sitar solos.

Video: St Vincent ‘Down’ Official Music Video via YouTube

‘Daddy’s Home’ encapsulates ‘the real romance of New York’

Swaggering album opener and lead single ‘Pay Your Way in Pain’ sets the scene for what is to come. It begins with a jaunty piano tune before exploding into its catchy call-and-response chorus. The track showcases Clark’s vocal talent against the backdrop of funky basslines and sizzling synths. Here, St Vincent inhabits a bold character that mothers disapprove of (‘the mothers saw my heels and they said I wasn’t welcome’). In the accompanying music video, Annie, dressed in a green suit with wide lapels oozes confidence, as she declares ‘you know what I want’.

The same high-heeled headstrong woman is riding the morning train in the groovy ‘Down and Out Downtown’. The track fades in with the rattle of a lap steel. It has a real cinematic quality, with its namedropping of the Empire State building. Clark has named the song her personal favourite on the album and called it her attempt to ‘encapsulate the real love, the real romance of New York’ on Twitter. It could almost be the sister track to 2017’s piano lament ‘New York’. The harmonising of backing vocalists Lynne Fiddmont and Kenya Hathaway add to the appeal of this track.

Photo: St Vincent performing in January 2018 by David Lee from Redmond, WA, USA, CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

The story behind ‘Daddy’s Home’

Title track ‘Daddy’s Home’ celebrates the release of Clark’s father from prison for his involvement in a stock manipulation scheme. It’s a bluesy number that would not be out of place performed in a 60s lounge. Despite its heavy subject matter, Clark keeps the track light-hearted, singing ‘I signed autographs in the visitation room’. Its an absurd image and feeds into the themes of celebrity culture present throughout the album. Charismatic Clark howls like James Brown, over saxophones and a prominent Wurlitzer, as the track crescendos. It will be interesting to see how this tune plays out when she can perform it live.

The ethereal epic ‘Live in The Dream’ is unlike any other St Vincent track. Some may consider it to be a slow burner or self-indulgent at six and a half minutes. However, as it progresses and the instrumentation builds, you realise it is truly spectacular. Once again, Clark’s soothing vocals with the added voices of Fiddmont and Hathaway create a dream-like soundscape. Having told Apple Music that this track is “completely psychedelic”, you can almost imagine Clark assembling it through yellow-tinted sunglasses.

Lyrically, it seems to grapple with the difficulties of fame as she sings ‘there’s a lot of people here who want to do you harm’. But there is a clear sense of defiance as she declares ‘The dream lives in me’. Clark also shows off her guitar-playing prowess in a soaring sitar solo around the midpoint of the song. The outro, with its steady stomp of a drumbeat transitions beautifully into ‘The Melting of the Sun’.

Video: St Vincent performing ‘The Melting of the Sun’ on Saturday Night Live via YouTube

St Vincent gets nostalgic

St Vincent debuted this track on Saturday Night Live in April. It is a more stripped back affair, with Clark’s sultry vocals against a groovy psychedelic beat reminiscent of Pink Floyd. She even name drops the group’s seminal 1973 album Dark Side of the Moon. The song is a tribute to outspoken female artists. She told Rolling Stone: “People were trying to quiet [women in the entertainment industry] when they were saying something that was righteous or true or hard to hear […] Each of them survived in an environment that was in a lot of ways hostile to them.”

1950s icon Marilyn Monroe, and renowned songstresses Joni Mitchell, Tori Amos and Nina Simone get a mention. It is an anthem of solidarity with women who’ve changed the face of popular music. In its final third as the vocals lift an octave, and Clark sings ‘Girl, you can’t give in now’, there’s a real sense of defiance and togetherness.

The second side of the album opens with the woozy whirling of ‘The Laughing Man’. St Vincent tweeted that the song is ‘an homage to a childhood friend who passed’. It is one of the gentler tracks on Daddy’s Home, with its twinkling melody and beautiful backing vocals. Clark is nostalgic, not just for the 1970s, but for the innocence of youth, of growing up and living and learning. The references to ‘grass stains and chicken dinners, Menthol mouths and secret stitches’ seem both playful and deeply personal. It’s the one-line chorus that really stands out, though: ‘If life’s a joke, then I’m dying laughing…’. It is plastered across much of the merchandise released alongside the album, suggesting the easy-going nature of the record.

Photo: St Vincent ‘Daddy’s Home’ Picture Disc LP available via https://ukstore.ilovestvincent.com/products/daddys-home-picture-disc

Fizzing funk and familial themes

Latest single ‘Down’ released mere days before the album’s release probably bears the most similarities with Masseduction. It’s a fizzing funk-inspired track with a powerful hook, infectious bassline, and prominent synths. The lyrics keep things familial, with Clark recalling her mother’s words of advice: ‘you’ve got to turn the other cheek’. In fact, the ‘Humming’ interludes, one of which precedes ‘Down’, were inspired by Clark’s ‘mom’.

The light and breezy ‘Somebody Like Me’ follows, picking up the pace with a quickly strummed guitar. Put simply, it’s a love song full of beautiful imagery of angelic figures in white. There’s an element of self-doubt in the lyrics, though, as Clark asks ‘Does it make you a genius or the fool of the week, to believe enough in somebody like me?’. It was the first song she wrote for the record and is perfectly placed with its dreamy outro melting into the next track.

Borrowing its melody from Sheena Easton’s ‘Morning Train (Nine to Five)’, ‘My Baby Wants a Baby’ is another standout. Driven by its rolling drumbeat, this slinky number involves more familial themes, with Clark pondering motherhood. She voices anxieties about becoming a parent, when she would simply prefer to ‘play guitar all day’. Building up in its final third and making use of layered backing vocals, this track would make an ideal next single for St Vincent.

Video: St Vincent ‘Pay Your Way in Pain’ Official Music Video via YouTube

A testament to St Vincent’s evolving artistry

‘…At the Holiday Party’ lilts gracefully along and is somewhat similar to the softer moments of Masseduction like ‘Happy Birthday Johnny’. Clark sings in a slightly higher register, showcasing her vocal range. She sympathises with a partygoer who is pretending to have a good time, singing ‘you can’t hide from me’ against a velvety horn section.

Closing track ‘Candy Darling’ is named after the American actor and trans woman who worked closely with Andy Warhol and Lou Reed. St Vincent described it as a ballad to say ‘thank you for being you’. At just short of two minutes, it wraps up the album beautifully, recalling the ‘bodega roses’ from earlier. Clark imagines waving goodbye to Candy at a subway station, but its like she’s saying farewell to a bygone era too.

Daddy’s Home, with its ambiguous title and stylistic overhaul, is a bold move from St Vincent. But the risk has paid off, as the album is consistent in its concept and quality. In all its glamour and grit, Daddy’s Home is a testament to St Vincent’s evolving artistry, as a singer who continues to defy genre-categorisation.

Daddy’s Home is available now to purchase in its physical format and to stream. St Vincent will perform on Later…with Jools Holland on Friday 21st May at 10pm on BBC2.

10/10

Revealed: The students trapped in debt after using ‘buy now, pay later’ service Klarna

Shopped online recently? You might have seen a ‘buy now, pay later’ option, letting you delay payments for up to 30 days or split them into three installments.

Many ASOS-loving students will be aware of one company in particular offering this service: Klarna.

The Swedish start-up lets consumers “buy what you love” with no interest, no fees and, supposedly, no impact on your credit score.

Now more than ever due to the Covid-19 pandemic, many students are facing financial uncertainty. And for some, Klarna has been a slippery slope into debt.

The Mancunion has spoken with several students who have used the service, which allows users to shop from the comfort of their bed without even having money in their account.

The undergraduates said they felt “trapped” by the service and claimed they had quickly spiralled into debt after falsely believing it to be a “quick fix” for their shopping desires.

In response, a spokesperson for said: “At Klarna, we take our responsibilities very seriously.

“At checkout there is a clear and simple process that provides customers considering Klarna with the information they need to make the best choice for them.

“Furthermore, our commitment to our consumers is to ensure we are very careful about who we make our services available to, and in the few cases where people do struggle to pay, that we help them make their payments in a way which fits their needs.

“We conduct strict eligibility checks on each and every transaction and restrict access to our service for consumers who miss payments because we do not want customers to ever be in the position where they are worried about making Klarna payments.”

“It’s a trap

For cash-strapped students waiting for their loans to drop, Klarna might seem like a quick and trustworthy fix.

And they’re not alone: more than 5 million people have used a buy now pay later service since the start of the pandemic.

Mo-Lily, a third year old student at the University of Manchester, was contacted by a third-party debt collection agency after missing payments. She described her experiences using Klarna as “scary”.

“I was broke but I was applying for jobs, so using Klarna seemed fine,” she said. “It wasn’t until I got a letter from a debt collection company that I remembered that I even had the debt.”

Though Klarna reminds users when payments are due, Mo-Lily claims that she only got one reminder email.

“It’s a trap. They make you think it’s easy and that nothing bad can happen but it’s not, especially if you have no experience with credit. Now, I think of it as if you have to use Klarna, don’t buy it.”

Chris Waugh, a former debt advisor for debt charity StepChange, described how ‘buy now, pay later’ models like Klarna seem to target young, and often vulnerable, shoppers.

“[Klarna] markets itself as a service where there’s not going to be any adverse effect on your finances or credit rating… [but] debts can start to build up very very quickly,” he said.

For students who didn’t have particularly stable income streams even before the pandemic, this can be particularly damaging, argues Waugh. At best, Klarna gives people the ability to buy without the reality of it, and at worst, it can be a gateway to long-term financial difficulties.

‘Klarna preys on young people’

On tiktok, #Klarna has more than 23.1 million views. The page is filled with young users hashtagging relatable Klarna stories. TikTok may not be a scientific barometer for assessing Gen-Z habits, but it points to how popular the payment service has become among young people.

Maya describes getting herself into a financial “black hole” after using Klarna, describing how she felt detached from making online purchases.

“I started using Klarna to buy clothes before I got paid, but I didn’t stop when I lost my job because of Covid,” she explained. “It just didn’t feel real and I got detached from the money.”

Maya added: “The debt started to build and I couldn’t pay it back, so I took out credit cards to help pay it. I was really naive about the reality of credit and how dangerous it can actually be.

“It really affected my mental health and I think companies like Klarna need to take more responsibility.”

Klarna was a stepping stone to more debt and mental health problems, Maya said, adding that young people need to be aware of that.

The charity Money and Mental Health revealed in a 2016 survey of nearly 5,500 people that those with mental health problems were more likely to take out ‘buy now, pay later’ credit and struggle to manage money and control spending.

Sophia claimed that she was able to bypass Klarna’s soft credit checks, despite debt that she had amassed from credit card loans.

When Klarna started popping up as a payment option on the popular shopping sites she visited, she again thought “why not? It’ll be fine”.

“I think it preys on young people who don’t have 100% awareness and knowledge of debt, credit and how damaging it can be,” Sophia explained.

All customers have the option to ‘snooze’ Klarna payments for 10 days, but for many people, a short delay is not a solution. Klarna also encourages buyers to make purchases, “manage [their] money”, and get support through their app.

On Klarna’s website, they urge buyers to “think thrice: Do I love it? Will I use it? Is it worth it?”

But for some, it isn’t so simple. Debt advice services, activists and buyers themselves have called for better regulation to protect those most vulnerable.

‘I would wear clothes a couple of times, then throw them away’

Jasmine stopped using Klarna because she believes it promotes unsustainable shopping habits. Loads of the brands that use Klarna are fast fashion.

“I’ll probably wear the clothes a couple of times, then throw them away,” she said.

Some of the Klarna’s ‘top brands’ include Missguided, Pretty Little Thing and ASOS. These fast fashion brands have been accused of promoting a ‘wear it once’ culture, where clothes are discarded after being worn – and usually documented on Instagram – once.

Earlier in the year, students at The University of Manchester created more sustainable businesses, partly in response to fast fashion, selling pre-loved and upcycled clothes and jewellery.

Perhaps ‘buy now, pay later’ services will continue to present a convenient option as long as consumers feel pressure to constantly buy, though they are far from risk free.

The Klarna Spokesperson added: “All customers can choose to ‘snooze’ a payment for 10 days and we encourage customers who are worried about repayments to get in touch and our customer support teams are on hand 24/7 to help.

“Whatever the situation, Klarna is focussed on giving consumers useful tools – including within our Klarna app, plenty of information, and the necessary support to manage their spending.”

If you’re worried about your finances, you can find resources at Manchester Student Support.

You can also find debt support at StepChange, The Money Advice Service, Money and Mental Health and National Debtline.

*All student consumer names have been anonymised to protect their identity

Turner Prize praises collectives using art for social change

In a surprise move, the 2021 Turner Prize judges have shortlisted five art collectives for this year’s award.

The shortlist, which was revealed on May 6th, does not feature any individual artists. Instead, it recognises groups that have worked “closely and continuously with communities across the breadth of the UK to inspire social change through art.”

The movement has been widely welcomed, and rightly so. As the jury have said, the UK’s most high-profile contemporary art Prize should reflect the contemporary moment. When conventional art spaces shut their doors during the pandemic, it was grassroots collectives that brought artistic experiences to otherwise isolated communities.

Each of the five groups has a distinct social and/or political agenda but, in the words of the jury chair, they all “reflect the solidarity and community demonstrated in response to the pandemic.”

Who are the nominees?

Array Collective are artists and activists who campaign for social change in Northern Ireland. They specialise in producing banners (including the iconic ‘Stop Ruining Everything’) and performance art, in service of protests for issues including the legalisation of abortion and ending legal discrimination against homosexuals. As part of their work, they reclaim and repurpose traditional folkloric symbols for progressive ends.

Black Obsidian Sound System (B.O.S.S.) was formed by and for QTIBPOC (Queer, Trans and Intersex Black People of Colour) to challenge dominant norms of sound-system culture across the African diaspora. They do so through films, club nights, and technical workshops.

Cooking Sections use multimedia works and pop-up sustainable restaurants to raise awareness of the ecological impact of our food systems. As part of their CLIMAVORE project, the group has promoted divestment away from farmed salmon, exploring how dyes used to make the fish pinker have leaked into surrounding ecosystems.

Gentle/Radical is a ‘hyper-local’ group deeply committed to their community of South Riverside. Their mission is to bring art to where people are, and especially to people who might be intimidated by traditional art spaces. For their ‘Doorstep Revolution’, they intend to knock on every door in their 13,000-strong community over the next three years, enabling everyone to contribute their lockdown stories to a neighbourhood podcast.

Lastly, Project Art Works provide spaces and opportunities for neurodivergent communities to express themselves artistically. Recent projects have included ‘Into the Wilderness’, a film about people who are highly sensitive to sensory stimuli exploring a Scottish glen.

Where next?

This isn’t the first time collectivism has reared its head in the Turner Prize.

In 2019, the shortlisted artists banded together and persuaded the judges to name them joint winners. They claimed it would be a “symbolic gesture of cohesion” at a time when politics was becoming increasingly polarised. Since their works dealt with different political themes, it would be untimely to pit them against one another. And last year’s Prize was cancelled, with the reward going into emergency funds to multiple artists.

After a dismal year for the arts, the 2021 shortlist is an exciting sign of how values within contemporary art are evolving in response to social change. With any luck, it might inspire the next generation of collectives to rise and make their voices heard.

Nominees’ work will be exhibited at the Herbert Art Gallery and Museum in Coventry from 29th September until 12th January 2022. The winner will be announced on 1st December.

Student businesses to follow #2: Fashion

Student businesses to follow is a three-part mini-series at the Mancunion Fashion & Beauty section which intends to highlight students that balance their uni work while also managing their own business. This second installment is about two women who each run their fashion brand alongside their university degree.

HART CLOTHING 

PHOTO: HART & CO. CLOTHING

3rd-year music student Ella-Marie started her small business Hart & Co. Clothing in her second year of uni when the pandemic had just hit. Like most of us, she filled her days by browsing the internet and found herself frustrated as she couldn’t quite find items that she liked enough to click ‘buy’. 

Hart & Co. Crop top
PHOTO: HART & CO. CLOTHING

She started making crop tops from old materials that she had up-cycled, like bedsheets or old curtain fabric. It rapidly grew to the point where she started selling her products on Instagram, turning a hobby into her own business.

“I started asking my friends for their measurements and sending out crop tops to them to model/experiment on, and then I created an Instagram account once I felt confident enough to share it outside of my family and friends!”

Hart & Co. Clothing sweater (pink and black)
PHOTO: HART & CO. CLOTHING

Ella-Marie found joy in pouring energy into something new, whilst her degree was on hold. “I started with something I loved doing, that let me be creative and I loved it so much that other people expressed interest in buying my items”. The rest is history. 

Although it’s sometimes a struggle to find the right balance between uni work and her business, Ella-Marie loves running her own brand:“I adore having a small business, being your own boss, making all the decisions from social media, to finance, to designing the items themselves!” 

Hart & Co. Clothing green sweater
PHOTO: HART & CO. CLOTHING

She is hoping to start a masters in marketing and will continue Hart & Co. Clothing whilst she continues her studies, and is planning on having lots of more releases and exciting announcements in the near future. Look out for the brand’s first year anniversary on the 28th of May for some exciting news!

Hart & Co. Clothing is a brand with a sustainable mindset. They now sell mostly unisex street and loungewear. To get your hands on one of their gorgeous pieces, DM them on Instagram

DIDARASTUDIO 

Didarastudio crochet top and chocker
PHOTO: DIDARASTUDIO

Teju is a first-year aerospace engineering student from London. She runs a unisex crochet and knitwear clothing business, entirely by herself, alongside her studies. 

She knitted her first item when the pandemic-induced boredom peaked last May. After that, she quickly started crocheting at the beat of youtube tutorials. Eventually, she turned her passion into a business in August 2020. 

Didarastudio red knitted dress
PHOTO: DIDARASTUDIO

Starting a business during a pandemic had its hardship, particularly with the restrictions causing shipping delays for materials and for her own products being shipped. She also felt like people were buying fewer clothes as they had nowhere to go. However, since people had nothing better to do than scroll on social media, corona might have been a blessing in terms of social media reach. 

Didarastudio knit vest
PHOTO: DIDARASTUDIO

The brand allows her to be more in touch with her creative side and is a good contrast with her degree. Although she loves having her own brand and particularly enjoys the creative process of designing new items, she sometimes feels like she isn’t quick enough to create new designs and enough content compared to other brands and accounts on social media.

“At the end of the day, you have to learn to stop comparing yourself and your brand to others and be proud of what you achieve at whichever stage you’re in,” she says. 

Whilst she loves both mediums, she particularly enjoys the intricate art of Crochet: “Crochet can’t be replicated by any machine which brings an extra satisfaction knowing that I can create such intricate items with my own two hands”.

Didarastudio crochet butterfly top
PHOTO: DIDARASTUDIO

She’s also eager to try new techniques such as resin and rugs. “I’m currently planning to expand my business with other art forms by the end of this year. I usually can’t stick to one thing for too long without losing interest which I can use to my advantage.” She’s planning on reaching a bigger and wider audience with the expansion of her product range. 

You can place an order by sending a dm to the brand’s Instagram or by sending Teju a mail. 

Take a look at the first installment of this series centered around accessories brands.  

It’s shorts season: Muscle and Mouth

The approach of exams and dissertation deadlines also brings the warmer weather. This means it’s time for shorts, and the perfect time for short stories. As they require less time commitment than novels, they make the perfect study break to transport you somewhere else.

Fly on the Wall Press is an independent publisher based in Manchester, and they release a series of short stories each year for ‘shorts season’. You can subscribe to the 2021 Shorts Season and receive a short story every 2 months. 

I read ‘Muscle and Mouth’, a story by Louise Finnigan. Finnigan is a Manchester based writer, and the short story is itself also firmly grounded in Manchester. 

‘Muscle and Mouth’ follows Mancunian college student Jade. Jade is completing an A-Level English Language assignment on speech patterns, and records some of her friends’ conversation in order to do so. She wants to go to Durham University, if she gets the 3 As she needs, a feat she describes as ‘a string pulled taut, with no give’.

The story is interspersed with extracts from Jade’s essay, and partly written as a transcript. This is effective, as the formal tone of the essay fiercely contrasts the scene she is transcribing. A difference perhaps as stark as that between Durham University and a Manchester estate. 

‘Mrs Muldowney will get her essay and I will get into Durham. But I will lose this place and it’s sounds too. They will become alien to me. The muscle and mouth of them’

The story is bookended by the teacher reading Jade’s essay. Jade seems aware of the judgement of her friends in her analysis of their language, and is angry at her teacher’s response. Yet, she stays quiet in the classroom, staring at the sugar paper of the display while her teacher reads her essay. 

Mrs Muldowney warns her to be ‘more careful’ about who she spends time with. This implies that Jade’s social life has a direct impact on her grades or her ability to get into Durham. 

The power the teacher holds over Jade in this moment, as Mrs Muldowney marks the work and Jade holds her tongue, is strangely prescient of how teachers are currently a deciding force in pupils’ grades and therefore their futures. 

A reader cannot help but question how much Jade will enjoy Durham – a place her mum identifies as being full of ‘toffs from down south’. 93% of teenagers in England attend state schools, yet at Durham the percentage of students from state school is at a mere 60.5%.

Despite its short length, the story quickly creates a sense of Jade’s conflicting fear and excitement about going to university and leaving behind the world she knows. It reminded me of my own feelings before coming to university. 

‘Muscle and Mouth’ is available to preorder, to be shipped on the 11th June – in time for the end of exams and the start of summer shorts-wearing!

Yuck, That’s Disgusting! Here’s why.

Ew. Gross. Yuck. Bleurgh.

These are just a small sample of the everyday expressions we use to convey our disgust. Such expressions are usually paired with a physical response, like pulling a face, holding our noses and covering our mouths.

This vast array of ways we express disgust demonstrates how important it is as a human reaction. But have you ever stopped to think about how and why you feel disgust?

The Ultimate Defence Against Disease?

It is widely accepted by disgustologists – yes, that is the official name of researchers specialising in disgust – that disgust arose as a mechanism to protect humans from disease. Many millennia ago our animal ancestors developed disgust as a physical reaction in order to avoid objects, animals or situations that were a threat to them.

Nowadays, we still avoid things such as vomit and snot in the hopes of avoiding potential exposure. This makes sense as one of the biggest threats to human life is infectious disease, as demonstrated through the COVID-19 pandemic. Our disgust towards people who cough without covering their mouths or who rarely wash their hands has saved lives.

It’s All Relative

Whilst there are several things, such as excrement or the consumption of human flesh, that are widely regarded as disgusting, disgust looks different in every culture. What is culturally accepted by one group of people may cause great revulsion to another.

For example, if you wander through a food market in South East Asia, it would not be uncommon to see trays of fried insects served as delicacies. They are, after all, a great source of protein. However, in the UK, eating insects is usually saved for painful dares – dares you complete with a grimace of disgust on your face.

But it’s not just culture that impacts what is considered disgusting. The objects, food and actions we are revolted by vary from generation to generation. A few decades ago it would have been unheard of to consume your placenta after birth. However, due to celebrity trailblazers such as Kim Kardashian, it is gaining in popularity in the UK and US. Who knows what might shed its disgusting image in the next decade.

Using Disgust as a Force of Good

If you’ve ever smoked a cigarette, or been around someone who has, you’ll have noticed that they come in packets adorned with horrifying, often disgusting images. These images are used as a way of deterring people from smoking by eliciting feelings of disgust.

If you’re revolted by an image of a black decaying lung, then you’re less likely to partake in an activity that may result in black lungs. According to a 2017 study, smokers were 6% more likely to attempt to quit smoking when using packets with disturbing warning images, rather than warning text. So, as we begin to understand disgust more and more, we can further our employment of it for wellbeing.

Overcoming Disgust

Most people are able to avoid disgusting scenarios in their day to day life, in order to protect themselves. However, there are others for whom disgust is an obstacle, either because it debilitates them or because it prevents them from doing their job. It is these people who need to find ways to overcome their disgust.

Take, for instance, a medical student thrown into a dissection class or surgery observation. Young, naive, and having never seen a corpse, they are expected to overcome the disgust society has ingrained in them. But how?

A 2009 UK-based study of 630 medical students found that 12% of students had at least one fainting incident whilst observing a surgery. But of those 12%, 57% chose to pursue a surgical career. So, as they get used to seeing more disgusting bodies, they become desensitised. If they didn’t get sick the first time, or the second time, or the third, what is there to be disgusted by? Basically, they just get over it.

However, for the rest of us, our disgust, more often than not, is here to protect us. So, for your safety, it’s probably best to stay disgusted by the 3-week-old chicken your housemate’s left in the fridge. .

** This article was inspired and largely informed by the Freakonomics podcast episode The Downside of Disgust’, which I would highly recommend if you want to learn more about disgust (or anything else, really). **

Earth Day 2021: World leaders on climate change

Earth day took place on the 22nd April. Occurring annually since 1970, its aim is to inspire everyone to take greater care of our planet, from individuals to governments.

To mark the day, president of the USA, Joe Biden hosted a summit combining many of the world’s leaders. At the event, many countries announced ambitious plans to reduce their contribution to the climate crisis.

Climate crisis: a history

It comes at an interesting time in the history of the climate crisis. On the 12th of December 2015 197 countries of the world agreed to ‘The Paris Agreement’. In this summit, the issue of the climate crisis was addressed officially.

It was meant to bring countries together to to reduce the greenhouse gas emissions in an attempt to cap temperature rise at 1.50C. Although a seemingly small temperature, this difference could change habitable landscapes and baron wastelands.

Since this agreement, many countries have been taking measures to reduce CO2 and methane emissions. In addition, a greater effort is being made to reduce the industrial processes that release toxic pollutants into the environment.

The Paris Agreement is the main reason that this summit was quite so significant, occurring in the first one hundred days of Biden’s presidency. Trump pulled out of the agreement as soon as he could, with the US only able to formally withdraw the day after the 2020 presidential election.

Biden’s hosting of an environmental summit can be seen as an attempt to restore faith in the US, both in its role in the climate crisis and in the political arena more generally. He has now announced that the US will attempt to halve their greenhouse emissions by the end of the decade… a bold task indeed.

A lot of these decisions and plans will be reviewed later this year, at the Glasgow COP-26 summit. The Paris Agreement included promises from many countries to reach ‘Net Zero’ emissions by 2050.

The UK currently hopes to reduce emissions by 78% by 2030, putting a lot of pressure on both pre-existing and developing industries. This provides plenty of opportunities for graduates and academics to make strides in optimisation. Many of the current student cohort could dedicate their lives to environment-improving science.

What can we do?

As students, there are many things we can do to reduce our own carbon footprint and improve the environment. For example:

  1. Reduce your meat and dairy intake – oat milk latte anyone?
  2. Think about what you buy- from biodegradable pencil cases to reusable coffee cups, we can all take steps to reduce the amount of long-lasting waste we send to landfill.
  3. Consider the impact of your household appliances. Do you still need the heating on? In May?
  4. Try going paperless-or choosing more sustainable stationary. For example, new pens have been produced that are made of plastic from biomass instead of crude petrochemical solutions.
  5. Stop leaving devices plugged in. This causes a strain on rechargeable devices, leading them to die faster and require more electricity to charge.

As we reduce our own environmental impact and hold governments and corporations to account, Earth Day provides a helpful focal point for the climate crisis.

However, if we are to truly tackle climate change, discussion cannot be limited to one day a year. What could you do today?

PPE: Pandemic pollution everywhere

You can see them hanging from car rearview mirrors, tucked into purses, or dangling from ears. You run back inside to grab one before you go to Sainsbury’s or the pub.

Masks, a type of PPE (personal protective equipment) have become ubiquitous in the everyday life of a pandemic world. While it is a life-saving device, PPE such as masks has become a pollution problem, prompting research into environmental consequences and mask disposal behaviours.

The manufacture of plastic PPE soared during the pandemic out of necessity, the World Health Organisation ordering a 40% increase of disposable protection production in 2020 to meet the tidal wave demand the pandemic ignited. Now, discarded face masks are washing up on the shores of about 30% of the UK’s beaches and are dotting the shorelines of Lima, Peru.

Disposable PPE created six times more plastic waste in China and it is predicted that at this rate, countries like the United States can generate an entire year’s worth of PPE waste in a mere two months. Because of this, there might be an increase in plastics littering the ocean waves.

Same pollution, different products

Plastic pollution is not a new story. Whether it is plastic bags being mistaken as prey for seals or plastic straws being ingested by turtles and birds, the problem of plastic pollution is found everywhere. Bags, straws, and the omnipresent disposable masks are made of plastic polymers like polypropylene which takes decades to decompose.

In addition to refusing to degrade, disposable masks have chemical additives that can be toxic to the environment surrounding locations of PPE disposal such as landfills. These toxins, in turn, can harm animal and plant wildlife as well as seep into human water and food sources.

A study found that about 3.4 billion disposable face masks and shields are thrown out every day. However, while they may be out of sight and in the bin, this PPE does not disappear. Almost 80% of plastic waste ends up in landfills or nature with as little as 9% being recycled, a testament to plastic’s permanence as a non-degradable product.

A lot of plastic products are carelessly thrown away into waterways and end up in the ocean. The ocean is one of the most heavily impacted ecosystems by plastic pollution, and the increased use of PPE plastics exacerbates the problem.

By SMR on Pixahive.co,

Plastics break down into smaller pieces called microplastics over time, which only serve to enhance environmental harm.

Disposable surgical masks in particular release microplastics in the form of fibers as they degrade and age in nature.

A scientific study placed disposable masks under oceanic weathering conditions by soaking them in seawater. The researchers observed that masks can release over 170,000 microfibers a day in a marine environment. These microfibers often contain contaminants that are ingested by marine wildlife and bioaccumulated up the food chain, increasing toxicity to potentially lethal levels.

Thus, the increased and improper disposal of single-use masks provides the space for both a biochemical threat and potential physical threat as sea animals entangle themselves in masks’ elastic ear loops or ingest the materials they are unable to digest.

Solutions to the Mask Debacle

Alongside calls for improved COVID-19 waste management and policy around the world, people are taking PPE pollution into their own hands quite literally. Organized volunteers from the Ocean Conservancy removed over 107,000 pieces of PPE from waterways and beaches worldwide in the last half of 2020. A cleanup organizer from the UK Channel Islands noted that masks, in particular, are washing up on the British shores.

Additionally, this global challenge has prompted research and innovation. Researchers at McMaster University in Canada are developing a way to recycle masks by melting the plastic and forming it into reusable pellets. Other endeavors include the invention of a biodegradable face mask using wood and paper-based materials which can decay more quickly and without the dangerous consequences of plastic pollution.

These initiatives hold potential for applications to wider circumstances of plastic pollution in the future, such as the aforementioned environmental damage by plastic bags and straws.

As summer approaches and vaccinations roll out, you may see fewer masks hanging from rearview mirrors or ears. However, the need for masks still exists and the knowledge of how disposable PPEs impact the environment is valuable in mask-wearing practice. Luckily, there are emerging ways to be both life-saving and environment-saving as you continue into a post-pandemic world.

Not so sci-fi: Can dinosaur life find a way?

Since the release of Jurassic Park in 1993, humanity has been fascinated by the possibility of resurrecting dinosaurs. Despite being a work of fiction, the film created significant buzz in the scientific community about genetics. In many cases, it resurrected the then-taboo industry.

The film, now nearly 30 years old, still amazes viewers with the science Dr Hammond uses to bring back these long-lost creatures. Though seemingly effective in the fictional world, could we replicate Hammond’s work in real life?

Flaws in the science of Jurassic Park

In the film, Hammond explains his success was a result of finding dinosaur DNA in mosquitos that had been persevered in amber (hardened, fossilised tree sap).

After extracting and sequencing the DNA, any gaps (missing bits of code) were then replaced with frog DNA so that a baby dinosaur could be made. The more science-minded readers will already see the flaws in this. Theoretically it makes sense, but there’s a lot to be picked apart.

Preservation problems

Fossilisation involves the preservation of hard structures such as bone, as opposed to soft ones, like blood. This is because they get degraded much more easily, and therefore quickly. Considering this, it seems improbable that the blood within the mosquitos would have survived over millions of years.

In the film, we see 6 species of dinosaurs. This means that Hammond managed to find at least 6 mosquitos, all containing the blood of different dinosaurs. But of course, this couldn’t be known until the DNA was extracted. This is more of an issue with plausibility, as opposed to direct science, but worth acknowledging.

Growing a dinosaur

It would be impossible to create a dinosaur without a complete genome. The technology for filling in the gaps of DNA does exist, but not with frog genes. Birds are in fact the closest living relatives to dinosaurs, and would have much more similarities in their DNA.

If Hammond did manage to create faultless dinosaur DNA for all 6 species, the next step would be to replicate the conditions of a dinosaur egg for the embryo to develop properly. A bird egg might be similar enough, but a lot of research would be needed to get it just right.

Credit where credit is due

Ultimately, the lack of a complete genome is the biggest hindrance to bringing back the dinosaurs. Jurassic Park cleverly side-stepped this by introducing the perfectly preserved mosquitos. Aside from this, genetically engineering DNA and creating clones is not foreign technology at all. Jurassic Park does a great job of highlighting hypothetical solutions for the obstacles currently in the way of recreating dinosaurs.

Perhaps the most significant impact this cult-classic film had was revitalising the world of genetics. In the late 1980s, genetic engineering was dominating the scientific industry. But the 1990s faced many setbacks, such as the death of Jesse Gelsinger. This gave the area of study a bit of a bad reputation. Things began to slow down for genetics, but thanks to Jurassic Park, there was a resurgence in interest. It allowed scientists to consider other routes for genetic engineering aside from humans, which led to fewer ethical issues.

Today, genetic engineering is a well understood and heavily funded area. Scientists are still toying with the idea of bringing back extinct creatures. Mammoths are seemingly the next big step, given that they are very similar to elephants and existed more recently, so we have been able to find DNA.

In the film, Dr Ian Malcolm famously says “life finds a way”. Sadly, bringing back the scaly beasts in Jurassic Park might remain a fantasy unless somewhere, somehow, intact dinosaur DNA is hiding.

This really could be the final piece of the puzzle and, despite its fictional nature, Jurassic Park does a fantastic job of exploring the possibilities of bringing dinosaurs back with real science.