Over the past year interviews with Tate curators, leading playwrights, international artists, authors and contemporary dancers have graced the arts pages of Nouse. Aided by contributing writers, the formidable L.O’B, the beautiful Beki, and the patience and support of a certain someone, I believe I have accomplished the agenda I set out for the art section.

However, others have been less than impressed with my coup. Many students appear to believe that these two pages should only be concerned with the artistic activities at the University of York and surrounding area. And I must say, I am not unsympathetic to their grievances. After all, local rags focus their attention on local happenings – logically then a student newspaper should be completely concentrated on its demographic and their activities. Should I have maintained the old format of interviewing directors of Drama Barn productions and PantSoc? Perhaps I should have, it would advertise their productions, massage their egos, and it certainly would have lightened my workload over the past year.

The decision to shift the focus of the arts pages was not made to snub campus arts. I believe that as a university, we produce a prolific number of diverse plays and exhibitions: from Fusion’s extravaganza to the award winning theatre company Belt-Up and the Society of Art and Architectural Scholarship in York’s (SAASY) lecture series. Indeed, I have made every effort to ensure reviews of campus productions are posted on our website.

But surely, there are only so many production previews and interviews with campus directors that one paper can take? It is all too easy to become entrenched in the bubble of our university. Our three years in York should be about broadening our minds – not restricting them to student activities. I would hope that realigning the focus of the arts section has introduced students to different contemporary artists, playwrights and dancers.

Now it is time for me to hand the editorial reigns to someone else. I must confess I am intrigued to see how the future of the arts pages unfolds under new hands. Will they revert to their previous format and refocus on campus arts or will they embrace an international coverage? I for one hope they take the latter approach. After all, aren’t easy journalism and out-of-date reviews Vision’s prerogative?

Whitewashed shop windows, dilapidated signage and decaying frontages are a testament to and constant reminder of the economic turmoil we are currently living in. Yet these depressing empty buildings are undergoing something of a renaissance, for impromptu art exhibitions are springing up inside them across the country. Dubbed the ‘pop-up’ shows, contemporary artists have been encouraged by local councils to take over the boarded up shops and curate dynamic exhibitions. Even Selfridges is partaking in this new craze. The fashionable department store plans to showcase 10 up-and-coming artists from murmurART.

York has adapted this trend with their new initiative Windows of Opportunity, which was launched in August as a joint project between York Museums Trust, Visit York and the City of York Council. Artists were called to submit designs for empty shop windows, transforming them into digital works of art. Five shop windows are being used for this to date, including one on Coney Street, Goodramgate, Kings Square and Low Petergate. Artists were encouraged to create a design that would enhance the city, although there were no stipulations on subject matter. Three works are already being displayed by artists Matt Mellor, Vorm Graphic Design and Seamless Media, and the winners of the remaining two window displays will be announced next week. Gillian Cruddas, Chief Executive of Visit York said, ‘We’re delighted to support this initiative which is once again bringing art onto the streets of York.’

Despite the fall in artistic commercial viability, enterprises like Windows of Opportunity and other ‘pop-up’ exhibitions ensure that Britain will remain a hotspot of creativity, when traditional gallery spaces are dwindling. Keep scanning shop windows to stumble across York’s aesthetic response to the visual impact of this troubling economic climate. We may be in an economic downturn – but we are fighting back with culture.

The closing date for Windows of Opportunity applications was the 11th October. Winners will be announced the week commencing 19th October. For more information see the Windows of Opportunity Website: www.woo2009.org.uk.

Semple’s work is directly influenced by popular culture or “the image world” as he describes it. It his obsession with mass culture and reproduction that posits his work alongside original Pop Art works. Revisiting these issues seems particularly pertinent in today’s hyperactive image market, fuelled by the internet. However, unlike Warhol’s sterile and deadpan works, angst permeates much of Semple’s art. “I am being more critical and less ‘Ready-Made’ about it. I want to turn it back into something quite personal and expressive. I tend to start with an emotional feeling, and then I start to look at products of popular culture through that sensation. My anxieties lead me to make work. I need to have something to push against, a problem to solve,” asserts Semple, inadvertently subscribing to the tortured artist trope.

The range of works exhibited at his latest show in New York, Everlasting Nothing Less, and his earlier ‘performative-installation’ work Happy Cloud (2000) appear strikingly divergent in tone. Everlasting primarily shows large-scale paintings, comprising beautifully composed, layered images and symbols, which are portrayed in a distinctly graphic and illustrative style. They combine the precision of line with painterly effect, and have a patently entropic, dystopian and fragile character. Conversely, Happy Cloud, which Semple describes as “the perfection of Pop”, consists of smiling faces (made from soap, helium and vegetable dye) being released into the air seems incredibly whimsical. Yet Semple insists that “both stem from a deep dissatisfaction and anxiety. Happy Cloud is trying to resolve it. This was the most straightforward way I could think of to literally contribute something happy to the atmosphere. The New York work reflects that feeling more directly. It is more analytical, looking at the world under the microscope.”

Semple’s oeuvre stretches the multiplicity of medium, venturing into fashion photography and design and music videos. He is insistent that these other projects are artworks, “I don’t change who I am for what I’m doing. If I’m designing clothes – I’m an artist designing clothes. So all of these things are still part of my art, even if they are not in a gallery.” They are also crucial to his paintings, “My work is about mass culture. I want to know what those things are like. I don’t want to sit in some ivory tower and look down on things.”

At just 28 Semple has received both critical acclaim and commercial viability. Publicity stunts, such as the anarchistic tactic of smuggling his work British Painting Still Rocks into the Saatchi Gallery, have gained him notoriety. Semple admits that such strategies and networking matters, “I don’t have a rich family or people giving me money, I have to sell my work to live. However, you can’t just make a load of noise. You can make people look once, but if there is nothing there they won’t come back. You are doing these things for the work and to allow you to make the work, always put the work first. But I don’t create art so some rich guy can buy it and impress his girl friend in his penthouse. Quite often I won’t sell work to people that I think are going to sell it again for profit – I try and hold out, but when times are hard you have to do what you have to do.”

As with many artists, the commercial aspect of creation and the art market troubles Semple. He explains that “Commercial value is 99% myth and hype – there is no getting around that. No one admits it, but that is what it is. But in a lot of the cases it’s less about trying to make a lot of money and more about trying to keep things moving. It’s easy for outsiders to look at the market and thinks it’s corrupt. The danger of course is when something sells for a ridiculous sum at auction the art market itself is so extravagant that it prices itself out of culture, it becomes more rarefied and locked down in private collections.” Semple’s opinion of Saatchi and his tactical promotion of the YBAs is equally ambivalent, “In one way he did a fantastic thing, he was very forward thinking and he bought some fantastic work. Now I’m not so sure of his relevance or the power he wields as a collector. I find him strange. Everything he does is to promote himself. He is not doing anyone any favours.”

More of Semple’s work can be found at www.stuartsemple.com.

The following Friday, in the early hours of the morning, disaster struck. Hunter was brutally attacked by a gang of students and it fell to the ground, its legs buckled and crumpled. I chose to embrace the destruction of Hunter, view it as a new work and so gave it the new title Fallen Hunter. Yet this was not to last. Just three days later Fallen Hunter was thrown into the lake by a drunken rabble. It was fished out – but beyond repair. So I decided to create the memorial R.I.P Hunter. A plaque was made, detailing the progression, transformation and demise of the work, and it was affixed to one of Hunter’s salvaged legs. I didn’t want Hunter to be forgotten, or the dialogues about it to cease, and I wished to jest at both myself and Hunter’s attackers.

My experience with Hunter has raised questions in my mind regarding art and vandalism. Art has been vandalised for centuries, stemming back to Roman pillaging of Greek sculpture. In the last century, however, artists began to toy with the idea of vandalism themselves. Perhaps the most contemporary and renowned overlapping of vandalism and art is the work of the graffiti artist Banksy. His gorilla graffiti is classed by some as an act of vandalism, whilst others believe that the councils which paint over his work are equally guilty of the same charge.

In 2006 performance artist Pierre Pinoncelli was charged with defacing Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain after chipping it with a hammer. Pinoncelli argued that if a urinal could be considered art, then so too could a broken one. Pinoncelli believed that by modifying Duchamp’s work he had given Fountain a new life in a post-Dada spirit. In 1999 Yuan Cai and Jian Jux Xi had a pillow fight in Tracey Emin’s My Bed, and in 2003 the Chapman brothers defaced Goya’s original etchings with hand painted clownish heads. The list could go on and on.

The question is where you draw the line between art, vandalism and artistic response. Are these ‘vandals’ teaching the art world an important lesson? Are they making us think afresh about a work and highlighting our bizarre overprotective nature of creative produce? I would like to believe that the attacks on Hunter were the result of such ponderings. In reality it is far more likely that people took objection to the fact that a non-figurative, alien, object had invaded their landscape. Quite often people are afraid of the unfamiliar and what they don’t understand. Perhaps some of the students of York University were not ready for such a contemporary piece of artwork, so they got rid.

The Christian Union has brought the latest student art exhibition to campus. The show comprises 20 eclectic works which are united by the idea that God created the world and mankind. The exhibitors have drawn inspiration from their Christian faith and in particular their belief that man was created in the image of God. Curator, Sarah-Jane Silvester, quotes a passage from Genesis: “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” She believes that this topic evokes ideas of “sanctity, identity, purpose, response, equality and uniqueness. So it’s not surprising that our interpretations of title have been so different”.

Silvester feels the exhibition “questions and doubts and awes and believes, and invites you to do the same”. As a non-Christian, I was slightly tentative and unsure how this show would relate to me. However my doubts were soon dispersed. It gave me a refreshing reminder that much of our Western Art History is grounded in Christian faith. And the works, far from preaching a Christian message, are a charming selection of paintings, drawings, collages and sculptures, which question our society.

Typical of a student exhibition, not every piece is a testament to talent – however there are some spectacular pieces displayed. Most notably, Andrew P. J. Cope’s painting titled Lydia. Cope’s skilled use of colour, in an almost Fauvist manner, and schematic approach make a fresh and vivid piece. It depicts his niece, who has been diagnosed with Aicardi Syndrome – which is a severely life limiting and disabling disease. The vibrancy of the painting appears to rejoice in Lydia’s life, whilst the fluid graphic lines detailing her facial features add an air of intimacy.

David Nevard’s Untitled and Forgotten is a powerful, large monochrome chalk drawing, illustrating an old Chinese man who suffers from leprosy. An outsider in his community, his broad smile and harsh life intensify his wrinkled face. Nevard’s use of a cardboard support, cleverly exaggerate the texture of the old man’s skin. Matt Lucas’ painting, Total Surrender, makes fantastic use of colour and intense brushwork with an impressionistic quality. Inside Out by Noah Noutch is dynamic graphic artwork. Almost psychedelic, Noutch takes inspiration from the illustrator Chris Riddle. Sarah-Jane Silvester’s piece Dolls is perhaps the most modern of all the works. Dealing with the concept that we are products of our society, Silvester’s uncanny dismembered dolls give an interesting critique of the world we live in.

In God’s Image has some real gems, and is well worth a visit. As I am a non-Christian I cannot predict how these works speak to a Christian audience. However, I can safely say that this exhibition offers plenty of visual and conceptual interest to anybody – regardless of their beliefs.

‘In God’s Image’ is showing on Wednesday 10th June in Vanbrugh JCR and Thursday 11th June in Wentworth Foyer from 12:30 – 2:30 pm. The show will also be exhibited from 6th July until 12th July at St. Michael-le-Belfrey Church, next to York Minster.

Davey and Powell-Williams are both recent graduates from the world famous and immensely respected Slade School of Fine Art. Powell-Williams has recently been granted a place at the notoriously competitive Royal College of Art to continue her artistic development. Davey was one of four winners of the prestigious ‘4 New Sensations’ award in 2008. ‘4 New Sensations’, a competition launched by the Saatchi Gallery and Channel 4 in 2007, finds and showcases the most imaginative and gifted art school graduates in the UK. Saatchi’s nod bodes well for Davey – for as history can attest, Saatchi rarely backs a losing horse.

The art of the twentieth-century broke all boundaries and transformed the art object into something unrecognisable by traditional standards. The formalistic, conceptual and material innovations that took place completely changed the nature of art. To be successful in today’s world, an artist must discover and develop original ideas. This is no mean feat. Twenty-first century creatives face the challenge of bringing something new to the already sated table.

I would have imagined that Davey and Powell-Williams would purposively seek to carve a unique niche in which to position their artistic practice. However, both artists refute this. Powell-Williams believes that “The idea of being novel is a futile argument. Novelty is more to do with the audience’s response. Contemporary audiences expect to be shocked and wowed and therefore it makes it difficult to achieve”. Davey agrees: “I am not intentionally trying to create something novel or original. If your goal is to do that, then you are shooting yourself in the foot as I feel that’s almost impossible today, just as it seems difficult to shock anymore.” Instead both artists claim that their work is inherently unique, favouring the status of the autonomous artist. Davey insists that he simply “creates what is important to me”. And Powell-Williams explains that her work is “all about me being the maker, my fingerprints and my choice of colour, that’s what makes it original.”

Powell-Williams states that the stimulus of her “work comes fundamentally from a desire to make but is led by our daily exchanges with the material world, the way we use objects and structures and our expectations of objects.” She finds the humour of Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton and the work of artists such as Franz West, Rebecca Horn, Paul McCarthy and Kippenberger influential. Conversely, Davey alleges that he takes less inspiration from other artists, although his work involving fluorescent strip lighting appears indebted to the minimalist sculptor Dan Flavin, and his use of text is akin to that of Bruce Nauman and Tracey Emin. However, like Powell-Williams, he too finds the “experiences in everyday life” most motivational, such as “certain types of chair in a restaurant, to a shop window display, to the way things or people accidently touch/interact in the ‘real’ world.”

Both Davey and Powell-Williams discuss their work, perhaps inadvertently, with a Minimalist rhetoric, echoing the concerns and interests of Judd, Morris – leading artists of that 1960s movement. Indeed Powell-Williams asserts that she is “more interested in an experience of objects in a phenomenological sense. I enjoy the power of the aesthetic in a sort of theatrical sense,” and in doing so brazens Minimalist buzzwords. Whilst Davey chastises the limitations of painting in a very Juddian language, believing that a “painting hides away on a wall, being restrained to its edges. By default, it is limited by the finite size of the stretcher. It’s limited in the things that it can do and in the dimensions it can inhabit.”

When the Minimalist movement first came into fruition in the 60s, charges of over-conceptualisation and a lack of aesthetic were levied it at by major critics of the time. Yet neither Davey nor Powell-Williams (despite using a Minimalist vocabulary) believe that they are concept-led, with Davey claiming that it is “very definitely secondary to its aesthetic. The spectacle of when the materials touch, the construction and how the piece actually functions and presents itself to the viewer are prime concerns of mine.”

Due to the fewer creative limitations involved in creating sculpture as opposed to painting, it is often bandied about that three-dimensional works have more relevance to contemporary practice than two-dimensional ones. Davey certainly sides with this line of argument deeming that “sculpture is not just more relevant to contemporary art, but to the world we live in and our society itself as well. It inhabits physical space; it puts itself on a level playing field with the viewer, and has the inherent power to challenge and to be noticed. It is everywhere and all around us. From the way a street lamp flickers to the way someone has decided to stack their deckchairs in their front garden.” Powell-Williams concurs, believing that “sculpture’s relationship to space and our bodies makes it impossible to ignore and will always remain relevant.”

Physical interaction, or its absence (“unfulfilled bodily interaction” in Powell-Williams’ case), is a principal concern for both artists. Davey explains that the object-subject relationship is so imperative to his work because “first and foremost, they are physical things in a room; they are sculptures. But also because of the language I use; that of flashing lights, moving parts and sound. These devices force themselves upon you. I hope they are what will draw you to the work and keep you engaged.” The phenomenological interaction between the viewer and a modern sculpture is intrinsic to the process of engaging with the work. And as this relationship with the object is instinctual or pre-lingual it could be argued that contemporary sculpture is the most accessible of the modern arts.

Movement in a sculpture has a significant impact on the spectators viewing experience and both artists are interested in kinetic sculpture – although Davey has explored it more to date. A moving work contradicts our assumptions of the static nature of sculpture, anthropomorphises it and can have a mesmerising and hypnotic effect on the viewer. Additionally the visual interest of the work is heighted and rendered somewhat instable and tense, as a different form is presented as the sculpture undergoes its flux. Powell-Williams is “interested in movement in relation to the functionality of objects and the potential for movement or function.” Whereas, Davey is “fascinated with the repetition that the movement provides; just as you think a light is going to smash or a piece of the work is going to topple, it stops just short of that crucial point.” He adds that movement “has very erotic connotations and undertones,” yet he refutes the fact that his “gender is particularly played out through the work I make. I suppose a lot of it is very phallic, but I can think of plenty of female artists who use similar themes in their practice.” Female artist, Powell-Williams, forcefully insists that she is “sick of hearing that, as a female sculptor who makes some larger scale works, my art is commenting on my gender. I refuse to consider it as a major role in my work. I’m not trying to say anything about my gender. I suspect that for men it’s less of an issue.”

Both Davey and Powell-Williams face many challenges ahead. Whilst we have a utopian idealisation that art is separate from our capitalist world it is in fact very much a commodity – indeed many artists, such as Warhol, have explored such issues. These young artists recognise the financial strains that lie ahead of them, as Davey points out “The cost of materials and studio space is crippling”. However, they both remain staunch in their artistic process, and refuse to demean their work by simply churning out commercial saleable art. Powell-Williams heroically states, “I’d rather work in a boring job during the week so I can make what I want than try to sell work that I don’t believe in.” Whilst Davey taunts, “if I wanted to make lots of money from my work, then I would have been a painter!”

Aside from financial instability, essential questions about the nature of contemporoary are currently being posed – and it is Davey and Powell-Williams who must formulate a retort. In particular, Powell-Williams feels that the role of the gallery in exhibiting artwork will be reconsidered, and she considers how art will evolve. She ponders “what to do with the surplus of images and objects, and if artists should be more concerned about being green.” She also frets, “That what I am told is the future of contemporary art (I’m thinking of the Altermodern exhibition at the Tate) cannot possibly include me, and more to the point, that I won’t want to be part of it.” Being a contemporary artist is fraught with difficulties and dilemmas, and indeed being an artist can be perceived as a ‘calling’. As Davey neatly put it, “I think being an artist is one of the hardest jobs you can do. But I wouldn’t swap it for anything.”

More of Davey’s and Powell-William’s work can be viewed at: www.mark-davey.com and www.candidapowell-williams.com. You can also see video footage of their moving sculptures. Both will be collaborating on a sculpture to be exhibited opposite The Courtyard from 16th June – 3rd July

Artists have also toyed with dystopian issues and tropes. Georges Bataille’s sadistic strand of surrealism manifested shortly after the turn of the century where he and his followers embraced the underbelly of human existence. Voids which penetrate the surface of Lee Bontecou’s 1960s reliefs are often read as ‘warnings’, foretelling the dread that will ensue from our abuse of mankind and our earth. Contemporary sculptor Anya Gallaccio frequently works with perishables, conceptualising death, societal decay and waste products, she leaves her work to physically rot in a gallery space.

Our bizarre idea that creative works are the product of neuroses, personal difficulties and political ideologies is in keeping with our penchant for the dystopian. Indeed our society likes to believe in the therapeutic quality of art, that an artwork is both an emotional release for an artist and a window into their angst ridden mind. Yet we can question whether works such as Bill Viola’s film The Passing, depicting his mother on her death bed, tap more into our state of morbid curiosity than act as therapy for the artist.

Society’s interest in the macabre and the dystopian could be accredited to the Freudian Death Drive. Yet why we seem to be so fascinated in depressing subjects and concepts is not really of interest to me – and it would be futile and foolhardy for me try to address such issues here. But what is troubling is the effect that this fascination has on the reception of works which do not fit the dystopian model.

The prominent art critic, Waldemar Januszczak, unintentionally highlighted this dilemma recently. In his review of the latest Whitechapel installation he made very telling statements about the work of Isa Genzken. The critic deemed only half of the show a success. Raving about Genzken’s early works which he described as “doomy” and “austere”, he criticised the remainder of the show claiming that it portrayed a “party-loving Genzken popping all the corks upstairs” and that it was “a bit Blue Peter”. I fear Januszczak has fallen into the trap that we have inadvertently concocted. Namely, that if an artwork is the polar opposite to the “doomy” dystopian, we pass it aside as fluff and assume that there is little depth to the work aside from formalist properties.

The macabre has infiltrated our art – and there is nothing inherently wrong with this. However, we must ensure that we do not overlook contemporary works that reject the dystopian outlook for a more positive approach.

Donald Freed’s play portrays Adolf Eichmann’s interrogation upon apprehension in Argentina. Eichmann, (commonly acknowledged as the “architect of the Holocaust”) is loudly rendered by Robert Pickavance in a play which polemcially seeks to re-evaluate his contribution to the genocide and re-establish his sense of humanity.

The performance is sustained by just two actors for the vast majority of the play’s two-hour exploration of the psychology of a war criminal. Whilst Sonia Petrovna convinces as Dr Baum, the unconvential interrogator, at times the tension and essential connection between the two characters is made too explicit and thus less effective; something exacerbated by the harrowing subject matter.

Impressive, however, was the use of stage space, and the shift of set between the first and second acts. The interrogation cell housed the first half, with the audience readily aware of our act as a voyeur: peeping through shutters. The glass windows enabled the viewer to create a conceptual distance between Eichmann’s complicity in atrocity and the old man shuffling before us in loose pants and large spectacles.

The crux of the second act though, in which Eichmann is whipped, prostrate on the floor, was a rather blunt touch.

The White Crow is showing at the York Theatre Royal until Saturday 23rd May

The production boasts a superb creative team at its helm. It has been adapted by Tanya Ronder, who promises to revoke the saccharine injected by the Disney animation, and who was nominated for a Laurence Olivier Award last year. Ben Harrison’s direction promises to produce a powerful play. He is accustomed to the challenge of working in experimental site-specific locations through his experience with the Scottish theatre company, Grid Iron. However, the largest feather in this production’s cap is the theatre designer William Dudley. Dudley has collected seven Olivier awards, more than any other theatre professional bar Dame Judi Dench. Dudley’s design that will ensure a spectacle.

Dudley’s vision of Neverland will be projected 360 degrees around the entire pavilion, the ceiling dissolved by high-resolution video and CGI technology, immersing the cast and audience in a fantastical world. He has previously employed this innovative and technological feat in Tom Stoppard’s The Coast of Utopia at the National Theatre in 2002, Hitchcock Blonde at the Royal Court in London in 2003, and Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Woman in White at the Palace Theatre in 2004. Dudley claims that Peter Pan will exceed his past works due to technological development. The teaser claims “our audiences will fly with Peter to Neverland, stand on the deck of Hook’s ship and soar high over Kensington Gardens”.

Whilst Dudley’s concept is progressive, it highlights the sorry state that the ‘spectacular’ has left upon the arts. Peter Pan has captured the imagination of children and adults alike for over a century. Is the strength of the plot and aptitude of the actors no longer enough? Has an inflection in a voice and an actor’s expression been considered so insubstantial in evoking a scene that we have felt the need to replace our imagination with computer-generated images and brash staging? Perhaps media bombardment has desensitised us to the subtleties of the arts and made our imagination dumb; apparently a legendary tale such as Peter Pan now needs supplementing, creating a production of experiential spectacular accessibility.

To its merit, this production ensures audience participation and intimacy, counterbalancing the awe-imposing spectacular. Surrounded by the projected set, this state-of-the-art auditorium offers unimpeded views of the stage, seating over 1000 people in the round, in close proximity to the action. Dudley has ensured that the theatregoers are not mere spectators, but become embroiled in the land of pirates and fairies. Barrie wished to create a magical land to whisk people away from reality and into a world of dream. Dudley’s vision will certainly achieve this through his spectacular staging.

The purpose of these contemporary commissions was to re-engage the public with the obsolete plinth and ensure its viability for the futur,; to break boundaries that surround typical public sculpture, and to raise the profile and accessibility of modern and public artwork. Previous works include, Mark Quinn’s controversial Alison Lapper Pregnant, Monument by Rachel Whiteread.

The fight for the most recent commission was fierce – Gormley stood against 5 other prestigious nominees, such as Tracey Emin and Anish Kapoor. Gormley’s securing of it would seem to highlight how suitable his work is for public display. He has had numerous public sculpture commissions in places such as Birmingham and Kassel, and the materials he primarily uses, such as lead, concrete, iron and steel, are apt for such work. His sculptures have the ability to blend with their setting, as was witnessed at his first retrospective at the Hayward Gallery in 2007, where Gormley littered the surrounding skyline with casts of his own body, standing prominently upon the rooftops of London’s Southbank.

Yet, Gormley does not plan to employ any of his typical sculptural motifs in his Forth Plinth work, entitled One and Other. Still interested in the same conceptual problems, of the body and space as a place of memory, transformation and exploration, he tackles these issues with methods that he began exploring and exhibited at his Hayward with works such as Blind Light, where audience participation is key.

One and Other is to be a living monument, constantly subject to the flux of viewer involvement. The artist is calling people of the UK to occupy the space of the Forth Plinth. The pedestal will be manned 24 hours a day for 100 days, with each participant standing atop it, alone, for one hour. There are no restrictions as to what can be done whilst you are on the plinth, providing that it is legal. Indeed one can perform, demonstrate or simply contemplate. Through an online application system, individuals will be selected at random to represent the UK population.

This concept toys with interesting ideas of public engagement and representation. The plinths in Trafalgar Square are culturally and socially ingrained with the masculine military heroes; the chosen few will take space normally reserved for leaders of our state and symbolically represent British identity. It undermines the preconceptions of public sculptures and allows us to reflect upon our society.

If you wish to take part in One and Other, are over 16 and residing in the UK, register online at www.oneandother.co.uk.

This talent contest is open to all practitioners over the age of 18 and to all mediums. In traditional reality format, the six selected artists will attend an art school ‘boot camp’, where top contemporary artists will tutor them. Saatchi will supervise their work, provide critique – although we will not see footage of him speaking – and eventually crown the winner.

Saatchi, perceived as a patron of the gifted modern artist, is “looking forward to the prospect of finding undiscovered British talent” and encourages “anyone with a fresh creative approach to enter, because nobody knows where the next art star will emerge from.” Surely the experienced art connoisseur is conscious of the fact that finding an ‘art star’ in this manner will be more celebrity than great master.

Having co-founded the legendary ‘Saatchi & Saatchi’ advertising agency, he is more renowned for his contribution to the British Art market. He opened his self-named gallery in 1985 and thirteen years later bankrolled and promoted the ‘Young British Artists’ movement, featuring Hirst and Emin, in his exhibition ‘Sensation’. Acting as a modern Medici, he raised the profile of these artists extraordinarily, and in doing so, his own fame rose. If Saatchi so much glanced at artwork its value would soar. Like children following the pied piper, the art world scuttled after this marketing mind and his unparalleled support of emerging modern artists.

Recently the light of Saatchi’s fame seems to have dwindled slightly. The lengthy two year move of his gallery from Southbank to Chelsea has left him somewhat out of the limelight. And none of his exhibitions post 1997 have rivalled the stir of ‘Sensation’. Perhaps this explains the publicity stunt Saatchi is about to embark on.

Maybe I’m too cynical. Peter Dale, the executive producer of the show believes, “for viewers who are passionate about this art form, the programme offers a fascinating insight behind the scenes and into the minds that create the work. For others, it will be a journey of discovery as the series demystifies the subject and makes the art more accessible.” Additionally, it could be seen to highlight the ‘Warhol-esque’ concept of commercialism in art. What typifies our consumer culture more than reality TV?
I can’t help but feel that this is nothing but shameless self-promotion from Saatchi. Insightful as ever, he has tapped into our current cultural climate: the bourgeoisie angst of promoting inclusiveness within the arts. If you wish to participate in this charade apply at www.submityourart.com from February 2 until March 29.

Modern theatre is teeming with stylistic, controversial dramas. Often short and succinct with a small cast, these plays aim to break theatrical conventions and can receive divisive criticism.

The Grand Opera House, York, is taking a gamble with their latest play, Richard Bean’s Harvest. Ironically, the contentious nature of Harvest lies in the fact that it isn’t stylistically modern, but breaks contemporary conventions. Bean explains “it’s quite naturalistic and naturalism is sniffed at by the theatre aristocracy. Its form is very simple, single location, one scene per act.”

Harvest shuns the typical ninety minute drama in favour of staging a three hour epic, sweeping through four generations of a Yorkshire farming family, boasting a twelve-strong cast. This format is characteristic of Bean’s ‘Monsertist’ work.

Monsertism, founded by Bean, promotes new playwriting in Britain, aiming to create large-scale plays for large stages. They advocate the primacy of action and seek to expose the human condition with inspirational rather than sensationalist overtones.

Bean’s epic charts the rise and fall of the English rural smallholding through four generations fighting to protect their livelihood. Unsturdy relationships and tragic events are set against the constancy of farming and the changing 20th century world.

“Harvest was inspired by my life as a child in Hull and East Yorkshire,” explains Bean. “My father kept two sows in Hull and raised weaners for market. I stayed at my grandfather’s farm in the holidays.”
Perhaps due to autobiographical influence, Bean’s plots and characters are infused with raw naturalism. He insists “I would never write a sentimental rural play. So the pig farm is a factory farm, with totally modern methods.” His prevailing interest in all of his plays is “the way that work defines personality, how you are what you do.”

Harvest highlights the raw labour, ongoing development of, and current debates within agriculture. It deals with prominent issues such as fox hunting, criticism of the EU, intensive food production and organic food. “I write about what keeps me awake at nights. I listen to myself, and see if I can identify the emotion. It’s a process of endless self consciousness.”

Harvest tackles tragedy– fatal shooting, terminal illness, World Wars, attempted rape and armed robbery – yet it is far from oppressive in its message. “All my plays, including Harvest, are tragedies,” Bean declares, “but I try to tell the tragedy with a joke. Under the Whaleback, a play of mine in which 20 men die on a trawler is obviously not a comedy, but if you listen to the audience they normally laugh quite a lot.”

Bean was a stand-up comedian prior to being a playwright. He uses humor to “keep the attention of the audience; I’m not a poet, and I’m not a sensationalist. It’s about keeping the attention on the plot and what you have to say. It’s all I can do.”

Harvest has received rave reviews from the vast majority of national press outlets, some proclaiming it his best work. When asked about his opinions on critics Bean candidly states, “Billington and Spencer and some of the more senior broad sheet critics are worth reading because at their best they operate as theatre academics.” But he doesn’t read “the rambling jealous spleen of the mentally ill”.

Harvest shows at The Grand Opera House, York, from 10th – 14th February. A student ticket, for any performance, is £5, available from the Box Office on 0844 847 2322 or online at www.grandoperahouseyork.org.uk

Widely acknowledged as one of the greatest colourists of all time, Titian pioneered the use of oil paints and inspired generations of artists. The pieces in question, Diana and Actaeon and Diana and Calliso, originally created as part of a cycle of works for King Philip II of Spain from 1556 to 1559, have been displayed in the UK for over two hundred years and have enriched our cultural heritage.   

Since 1945, The Duke of Sutherland has loaned these celebrated paintings to the NGS, as part of the historic Bridgewater Collection. It is one of the most important anthologies of Old Master paintings on loan to an institution in the UK, and forms the core of the NGS’ world-famous displays of European art.

The Duke has offered the works to the NGS and the National Gallery in London for £50m each. If the galleries raise the funds to buy Diana and Actaeon, then the second painting, Diana and Calliso will be offered for sale in four years. His offer comes with the added incentive that, should the two galleries manage to raise the necessary funds; the entire collection will remain on long-term loan to the NGS.

Whilst the cost of the paintings appears daunting, this figure actually only represents one third of their estimated open-market value. These galleries are seizing a £100 million bargain. As a result, they began frantically campaigning for funds in August 2008. 

This immense expenditure has produced divergent reactions. Should we spend such significant sums of public and private money on great works of art? Particularly in the global age we live in, must the works remain in Great Britain? 

Glasgow MP, Ian Davidson, speaking on BBC Radio Scotland’s Good Morning Scotland, claimed “It is difficult to argue that this is part of Britain’s cultural heritage when it’s a picture by a long dead Venetian. I don’t believe it is worthwhile spending this obscene amount of money, particularly when the National Gallery already has around 20 Titians.” 

However, the loss of these works has been likened to removing the Mona Lisa from the Louvre. Is culture not of equal importance to the defence, health and education that we invest in so heavily? Without art, what do we have?  

Furthermore, this early intervention would be paid off by the inspiration and education of future generations. Countless artists have gleaned inspiration from these works and many are active in the campaign including Tracey Emin, Lucian Freud and David Hockney 

The price seems heavy, but this investment is essential.

If you wish to support the campaign, donate online at:

www.nationalgalleries.org

The role of the war artist of the divisive Iraq conflict is no small challenge. Steve McQueen, winner of the 1999 Turner Prize, took on this battle, describing it as “the hardest thing he has ever done”. He has departed from his typical medium of film and has opted instead for an installation. Queen and Country is the fruit of his labour. Commissioned by the Imperial War Museum, his work is touring the country, withthe Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art currently playing host.  

McQueen’s work commemorates 136 British servicemen and women who have been killed in Iraq. The piece consists of a large oak cabinet with 120 vertical draws, which the audience must pull out. Each draw contains a large facsimile sheet of stamps, each showing a portrait image of a fallen member of the armed forces. Each drawer can hold two sheets of stamps, thus the cabinet can hold a maximum of 240 individuals. If the number exceeds this, another cabinet will be made.  

David Barrie, Director of The Art Fund, believes Queen and Country is a “beautiful and deceptively simple work of art that poignantly reminds us of the enormous sacrifices made by British men and women serving in the armed forces in Iraq.” Indeed, McQueen has treated their images with nobility and respect, concealing them within the sleek cabinet rather than brashly plastering them across gallery walls. Whilst the latter would have an instantaneous impact of the human cost of war, McQueen has cleverly enforced this message in other ways; the time it takes to unveil each set of images, and the seemingly endless repetition of this action makes the viewer keenly aware of the death toll of British soldiers. 

The images, chosen by the relatives of the deceased, portray these young individuals, many wearing their uniform with pride, while others smile broadly. Along the edge of the facsimile stamp sheet is typed the name, age or death, and platoon of each person.    

However, the work is not complete until the Royal Mail issues these stamps. He explains, “The idea of the artwork was always to have the stamps in circulation throughout the UK, so that people could go to the post office and be involved, to pick up an envelope with the stamp on it, to meditate and reflect on the sacrifice – not just to have something gathering dust in a museum. I think putting the stamps into circulation is the most fitting way to honour the troops who died.”

Mrs Carol Paterson, mother of Private Scott ‘Casper’ Kennedy, who died in Iraq aged 20, stated, “The images of Scott and these brave men and women on stamps would be a great way to honour the sacrifice they have made for Queen and country. They should never be forgotten.”

The Art Fund, the UK’s leading independent art charity, is encouraging Royal Mail to officially issue the stamps. Over 15,000 people have already signed the Art Fund’s appeal. Royal Mail, however, has not yet conceded to McQueen’s request. Although memorial stamps have long been issued, Royal Mail has been very conservative in its choice of images. Perhaps this British institution would rather stay away from the controversial matter of the Iraq war.

Yet, McQueen declares that Queen and Country is neither pro war nor anti-war, rather it merely commemorates soldiers who lost their lives. “It seems for those who are against the war my project is regarded as a good thing. For people who support the war, it is regarded as a good thing too… This work is like a sphere; roll it this way, roll it that way. In the end it is an art work.”

What’s more, the work is said to be dedicated to all victims of the war in Iraq. Here I take umbrage. The work may, from a British military perspective, take no stance on the war, yet completely absent is any reference to Iraqi civilians who have died, or indeed troops from other nations. Although there is no agency that keeps track of accurate numbers of Iraqis killed, deaths from violence have been estimated at a figure between 90,329 and 98,605.  

If you believe that Steve McQueen’s commemorative work should be completed and stamps produced, sign the petition at:   www.artfund.org/queenandcountry

Queen and Country is showing at the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art, Edinburgh, until 15th February 2009. Entrance is free. For details of the tour and extra information please see the website listed above.

Belt Up’s latest production, Instinct, was based upon a short story written by Director Jamie Wilkes. It was immediately apparent that this play was to be an unusual and exhilarating experience by a company renowned for their provocative staging and acting techniques.

From the off audience participation was key. Having entered through the side door of the drama barn, we were welcome to ‘The Instinct Project’, a semi-holographic representation of the future. This change of entrance proved to be highly successful, rejecting the stale format of typical productions. Immediately, the audience members were stripped of any individuality, being forced to clad themselves in a uniform of blue boiler suits. Unfortunately, the fumbling that ensued quelled the tension.

The Drama Barn, set in the chaos of a post-apocalyptic world, was transformed into a rubbish-filled, desolate wasteland. This debris gave birth to embryonic beings, spawned from the scraps of our civilisation. These alien bodies evolved throughout the play, exposing basic human conditions and the development of community. We observe them discovering to walk, become sexually active and establish their own “form of language” in nonsensical dialogue. As the play progressed, individual personalities subtly emerge from the cohesive group. Relationships and hierarchies form and we the witness roles of power, false idols, revolution and their consequences.

This evolution of characters was cleverly mirrored in the costumes of the troupe; initially all clothed in simple red boiler suits, individuals acquired additional distinguishing items as their psyches mature. With the audience also clad in boiler suits, all that stood between this civilisation and ours was their clown-painted faces.

In typical Belt Up style, the audience has little choice but to become totally immersed in the physical action of the performance. Cast members interact, moving the viewers around the space and engaging with them. Dynamic fight scenes are intricately choreographed and dancing is used successfully to produce ritualistic and comedic effects. However, it is arguable that some of these were overly long.

The lack of a recognisable language certainly created a challenge for the cast, forcing them to rely solely on their personifications and movements to convey the plot. This challenge was taken up masterfully, very seldom was the action lost in translation. Despite the number of actors on stage, fourteen in total, they worked energetically as an intrinsic unit and never allowed their characterisations to drop. Tom Powis, playing Bonski and Delum, performed by Dominic Allen, were particularly engaging. Marcus Emerton’s portrayal of Jerum, the scholar, succeeded in subtly highlighting his inwardness and eccentric genius. Danie Linsell’s depiction of the backward Zwagee, was also of note, ingeniously maturing throughout the play whilst maintaining childlike qualities.

Whilst this play highlights our instinctive needs and humanity’s inclination to destruction, comedy was constantly at the fore. It often took the form of absurd references to popular culture, slapstick elements, moments of misunderstanding between characters and the farcical sequential order of evolution. However, the most successful elements of the play were the strength of the cast and the conception as a whole, rather than the comedy.

Sections of the script and directing were not consistently impressive. The prelude to the play was unpolished, and whilst it pushes the boundaries of interactive theatre, it came across as a little superfluous. Additionally, despite fantastic characterisations from all cast members, the lack of understandable conversation made it harder to connect to the individuals and so some of the more emotional scenes were rather lost. Exacerbating this issue was the very nature of the interactive, immersive theatre as some of the action was difficult to view. Lastly, the play entered into the realms of the farcical towards the finale, with unnecessary and lengthy repetition. Yet, to remove or rectify many of these inferior points in the play would affect the original ideology behind this challenging script.

As one would expect with Belt Up play, Instinct was a remarkable experience and pushed the boundaries of campus theatre. The lack of dialogue, impressive emotive scenes and comedic value was reminiscent of the Slava Polunin’s famous creation, Asisyai the clown. This is particularly true of the opening scenes, yet it generally lacked Polunin’s subtlety. Instinct was not without fault and it was not the company’s best production, but overall it was a fine piece of experimental drama.

The Turner Prize is a controversial annual award, bestowed by The Tate. Four of the most innovative and experimental British artists under the age of 50 are shortlisted. A Panel of four judges picks the winner.

Stephen Deuchar, Director of the Tate Britain and Chairman of the Turner Prize believes “the prize has been important for the appreciation, understanding and engagement of contemporary art for the British Public. In the 80’s people didn’t really understand what contemporary art was about, it was alien and threatening, an incomprehensible force. It has played an important role in making people feel more comfortable with contemporary art.”

Should art be packaged and pushed towards a mass population? Insisting the importance of art is arguably somewhat dicatorial. And has modern art become more accessible as a result? Certainly the Turner Prize exhibition attracts growing hordes of visitors every year. The proportion of these people that actually understand the artwork is anybody’s guess however. With media fuelled frenzy, many simply turn up to gawp, or out of society-induced cultural aspirations.

The sensationalism surrounding the Turner Prize is a self-perpetuating cycle. Each year the papers are ready to pounce on the next shocking story; transvestites, defacing Goyas, cow dung, an unmade bed, a female winner or a painter in the shortlist. Journalists habitually deride the prize and the artists. In 2001 Tom Parry wrote of Martin Creed’s work, ‘The Lights Going On and Off’, “Take a bare white room with a light switching on and off and what have you got? A Turner Prize winner”. Even Kim Howells, Arts Minister in 2002, snubbed the nominated artworks, describing them as “cold, mechanical, conceptual bullshit”.

With such controversy it is hardly surprising that opposing prizes have been established, such as the Anti-Turner Prize, the Stuckists and the Turnip Prize, to name but a few.

Perhaps the Turner Prize has achieved its goal, and the British public do feel more “comfortable” with contemporary art. However, comfort does not always equal knowledge, appreciation or respect. Maybe this familiarity has simply given Britain the strength to ridicule an alien modern entity.

This year The Turner Prize has no corporate sponsor, since the likes of Channel 4 and Gordon’s Gin removed their funding. The winner will be awarded £25,000 and the nominees £5,000 each. The Tate is funding this though their membership scheme. With public funding paying for the prize, perhaps Britain should choose their winner this year? Moreover, possibly the decline in interest for corporate sponsorship highlights the ambivalence felt towards this stale prize. Deuchar believes otherwise, blaming the contentious reputation of the award.

Violent responses to the Turner Prize’s selection of art are not out of the question. It appears we are still learning from the legacy of our art history how to fully appreciate artists producing work in our present environment. Art is subjective and inherently polemic; disparaging the Turner Prize proves that there is no demise, only great debate.

I spoke to Debbie*, whose mother was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2003 and who died three years later. She impresses on me that, “these figures are not simply soulless numbers, but real women. Picture nine of your female friends and relatives – one of these women will have to fight breast cancer. Facts, figures and statistics are all very well, but the human element is completely lost. They aren’t simply the 33,387th case that year. Their illness affects their lives and the lives of those around them entirely.”

Cancer Research UK is the largest single funder of breast cancer research, spending over £45 million on groundbreaking work to understand the causes, learn how to prevent it, and improve diagnostics and treatments. They also strive to find methods of improving the quality of life for those living with the disease. Dr Lesley Walker, Cancer Information Director of the charity, said: “Cancer Research UK’s groundbreaking scientists and doctors have made a huge amount of progress in improving the diagnosis and treatment of breast cancer, with more women surviving than ever before.” Treatments for breast cancer usually start with surgery. Either a lumpectomy is performed, where the cancerous tumour is removed, or in more extreme cases, a full mastectomy, which involves the entire breast being cut away. This is usually followed by courses of chemotherapy, hormone therapy and radiotherapy.

“It’s strange,” remarks Debbie, “In my experience, women who have undiagnosed breast cancer don’t appear ill, despite living with a disease that is slowly killing them. It’s only once the treatments starts, the operations and the chemotherapy, that it really becomes apparent how sick these people really are. Even though my mum probably had breast cancer for five years before it was recognised, she seemed fine and healthy. Once she started taking her prescriptions, her hair fell out, she was constantly vomiting, skin shed from her hands until they were raw and her mouth was covered in ulcers and sores.” It is the norm for cancer patients to have horrific side effects to their treatments, which is why it is imperative for research to continue. Fundraising aids progress in the improvement and creation of new drugs and helps to achieve a better understanding of the most effective combinations of medicine.

It is also important to remember that whilst the patients are suffering, those around them may also be struggling. Debbie recalls, “I have memories of my mum that I wish I did not have. I remember trying not to physically recoil when dressing the stitching from her mastectomy; resenting her as her personality and mood changed as the cancer took over; and forever scarring me, the image of my little sister dripping water into her mouth with a sponge when she was too weak to drink.” If you are struggling under the pressure of a loved one having cancer, then talk to someone. The university offers an excellent counselling service and charities such as Macmillan Cancer Support, providing practical and emotional help to both patients and their families.

How can you reduce your chances of contracting breast cancer? By far the most effective way to beat breast cancer is by examining your breasts and catching it early. Dr Sarah Cant, Policy Manager at Breakthrough Breast Cancer, states: “The earlier breast cancer is diagnosed, the more likely it is that treatment will be successful. Showing your breasts some TLC by regularly touching, looking for changes and checking anything unusual out with your doctor are the best ways to ensure this.” Worryingly, a recent survey carried out by Breakthrough Breast Cancer indicated that nearly a quarter of women never check their breasts at all, due to the fact that they were uncertain of how to check and what to look out for.

Charlie Leyland, YUSU academic and welfare officer, has plans to address this issue: “In July I’m hoping to do a big cancer awareness day, incorporating breast cancer and testicular cancer, along the lines of the national wear pink day. It would be really nice if we could have some nurses running workshops on breast self-examination. Before then I’m hoping to put some information on the YUSU website about breast awareness.”

The box below details how to check yourself and what to look out for. Both women and men are at risk of breast cancer. The chances of someone under the age of 25 contracting breast cancer are 1 in 15,000, but the risk is quite definitely there.

Debbie ends our conversation on the same note of warning: “I can’t help but think that if my mum’s cancer had been detected earlier, she would still be here today. It’s upsetting to think my mum will never see me graduate, help me pick out my wedding dress or be around to offer me advice and love. I would urge anyone and everyone to check their breasts and pass on the same message to their friends and family. What happened to me and my mum does not have to happen to you.”

Checking you breasts

It is vital that, once over the age of 20, you check your breasts at least every six months. Nine out of ten breast lumps are benign, which means they are not cancerous, but the risk isn’t one worth taking.
It is easiest to check your breasts in the shower or bath. Run a hand over each breast and up under your arm. The NHS breast awareness five-point code says:
* Know what is normal for you
* Look and feel
* Know what changes to look for
* Report any changes without delay
* Attend a breast screening if aged over 50
You are checking for changes to the size, shape or feel of your breast. Changes include:
* A lump or thickening
* A change in the size or shape
* Dimpling of the skin
* A change in the shape of the nipple; if it turns in or becomes irregular in shape
* A blood-stained discharge from the nipple
* A rash on the nipple or surrounding area
* A swelling or lump in the armpit
These signs can all be due to other medical conditions, but you give yourself the best chance of successful treatment by going to the doctor early.

Anthony Burgess’ A Clockwork Orange will soon hit York Theatre Royal. Another provocative play courtesy of campus’s very own award-winning theatre company, Belt Up (Nothing to See/Hear), Clockwork promises to push their theatrical techniques to the limit. The award winning novel later adapted to play by Burgess himself, is a dark and sadistic study on free will and psychological behaviourism.

Burgess’s nightmare vision of youth culture offers a gripping insight into the life of a disturbed young man, depicting acts of rape, ‘ultra-violence’, torture, murder and revenge. Belt Up is renowned for being shocking and “aggressively participatory” (The Times), so Clockwork seems a masterful choice by Alex Wright, director and producer. Wright stresses, “It is shocking, but it has a lot more to it. Clockwork is an iconic text, which I personally greatly admire.”

The risqué nature of the text assumes a level of discomfort for the actors. However, Alex Forsyth who plays the protagonist Alex, states, stylised rape scenes aside, “I don’t feel uncomfortable, I’m playing a role. I’m not actually raping someone. I’ve been more uncomfortable in the past, like when I’ve been in bad plays.”

Under Wright’s direction, the cast of Clockwork are presenting their most stylistically complex performances yet. Influenced by Berkovian techniques, the cast perform on a minimal stage, creating props and sets bodily. Wright explains, “In this production there is no frame of reference. Clockwork is not really to be connected with”. He demands extreme physicality from his troupe. Forsyth jokes, “The first thing Alex [Wright] does, is he goes out and sources acrobats. He finds the ones most capable for physical theatre. Then he says, fuck that”. Wright, though, argues that “people can generally do a lot more than they think. In real life there is no point when you would think, ‘I’m going to run and jump 10 feet and throw myself back and forward roll off’, as no one does that, but everyone is perfectly capable of doing it.”
Rehearsing such scenes not only results in bumps, bruises and aching muscles. One cast member, Anna Rohde, has already pulled out because of injury. Rehearsals are problematic in one sense because of the lack of an audience – a challenging obstacle when a performance revolves and reacts around it.

“People know that this is A Clockwork Orange and know that it’s participatory [and they] will be worried. No one is going to get raped. No one is going to get murdered,” Forsyth reassures me. Wright adds, “Obviously you are in a theatre, you are in a safe space. You can feel as scared and unsafe as you like but everything is controlled. The audience is really the only variable, and people can say no. But Clockwork isn’t a piece of theatre you should feel comfortable watching.”

Belt Up’s productions never fail to trigger powerful reactions, positive or negative. A Clockwork Orange is showing at York Theatre Royal 19th-21st June. The company forebodingly advises the audience to leave big bags at home, to wear comfortable shoes and clothing.

As the one-year anniversary of England’s celebrated Smoke Free policy approaches, Antonia Shaw pens a love-letter to the one filthy addiction she just can’t give up.

I often engage in romantic nostalgia – memories of being propped up at a bar, sipping a drink, my fingers curled around a cigarette. It seems an age since smokers were permitted to enjoy themselves comfortably indoors. Yet, unbelievably, England’s Smoke Free policy will only be celebrating its one-year anniversary on July 1.

I can clearly remember the eve of the smoking ban. As a seasoned smoker, I had pledged to spend that night on the town consuming as many cigarettes as I physically could, cursing the forthcoming ban between long drags. I worked my way through a 20 pack and came home reeking of smoke. I awoke the next morning with a sore throat and chesty cough, nonetheless resenting the ban that would irrevocably force me to alter my smoking habits. Never again would I be able to smoke in a public space.

I am more than aware that my unenthusiastic views of the smoking ban place me in a minority. Considering less than a fifth of adults smoke, I’m even marginalised amongst my fellow addicts as, according to government statistics, 77% of people agreed with England adopting a smoke-free policy. Conversing with many of our campus population, it is easy to feel entirely on my own. Madeleine Adams, a second year English student, doesn’t “disagree with the smoking ban but [I disagree] with the fact that smoking is not illegal… either go the whole hog and ban it, or don’t.”

In York, smokers and non-smokers alike have strongly supported the ban. Steve Adamthwaite, Principle Environmental Health Officer for York City Council (incidentally a graduate from the University), proudly stated, “The smoking ban has run very smoothly. It has proved to be largely self-regulatory, the public have really taken it on board and there have been very few contraventions of the law. There were initially problems with signage in businesses and issues with smoking shelters not complying with regulations. There have been some problems with taxi drivers and van drivers and action was enforced. But overall it has proved to be very successful… the public are so keen on the idea. It has created a litter problem in some areas and outside certain business but the council has tried to put outdoor ashtrays in these locations.”

It’s hardly surprising that Smoke Free England has attracted such public backing. It is impossible to be unaware that smoking is bad for your health. We are constantly bombarded with adverts attempting to persuade smokers to quit and articles citing the dangers of smoking accompanied by “shocking” statistics. One of the key arguments for the ban, the dangers of passive smoking, don’t go unmentioned either. Apparently, my lovely cigarette smoke emits 4000 chemicals into the atmosphere, including the highly poisonous carbon monoxide. My dirty habit infects the clean lungs of the righteous, increasing the passive smokers’ risk of contracting lung cancer and heart disease by approximately 25%. Just 30 minutes of secondary smoke can cause reduced coronary blood flow.

Despite my hatred of the smoking ban, I can’t help but feel guilty that my choice of lifestyle had affected passive smokers to such a horrendous extent. Sam Thomlison, a non-smoking philosophy student, said, “I enjoy going to pubs a lot more, and it’s a more pleasant experience. I hated breathing in all the smoke when I was there.”

Non-smokers are not the only ones who reap the benefits from the ban. Although I find the imposition incredibly irritating, I am the first to admit that it’s lovely to leave a pub without smelling like an ashtray. Fellow smoker Sam Mammolott told me, “the first few weeks of not being able to smoke in the clubs was somewhat annoying – but at the same time obviously I appreciated why the ban came in. And it’s quite nice not to be in an environment where it’s all smokey.” The ban has also helped smokers ditch their habit. 78% of smokers have attempted to give up since the ban, 72% would rather they didn’t smoke and the overall number of smokers has dropped by 5% in the last 10 years. Former smoker, Ben Ridgeway “found it much much easier to give up [since the smoking ban came in].” I have dabbled in quitting myself, both prior to the ban and after. The last time I tried to kick the cravings was last Christmas. I managed to go without nicotine for three months. It definitely helped that temptation was removed/lessened when socialising. Ultimately, however, the draw of the drag was too much for me.

As a first year I have only experienced a smoke-free York. I have heard fairytales of smoking in halls and Vanbrugh Bar. Edward Fisher, a second year student, told me “Smoking in Vanbrugh Bar was beautiful… your nice fair-trade coffee and your not so fair-trade cigarette – they didn’t make a film called Coffee and Cigarettes for nothing.” However, Ridgeway does not have such idyllic memories. “Vanbrugh Bar was terrible. People used to go there just to smoke. It was really, really smoky and at lunchtimes, when people were eating, it was a problem.”

Buzz Palmer, head of campus events security service Doorsafe, tells me: “We tend to have a particular area for people to smoke and you’d be surprised at the small number of people going out. It makes me wonder if more people have quit due to the smoking ban… It has actually helped us because [the smokers] have gone outside, they’ve talked and they’ve sobered up a bit which is always a good thing as they’re less likely to cause any trouble. And it’s a nicer environment to work in without the smoke.” Ridgeway has worked in The Old Starre Inn since before the ban came into action, and tells me that it now has a more pleasant atmosphere. “For someone working there it’s a lot easier. I used to come home after a Saturday night really smelly, and even back when I was a smoker, when other people are smoking around you for six or seven hours it really gets in your face. People were never allowed to smoke at the bar but it never really made that much difference.”

Ridgeway feels that there are teething problems with the ban. “Currently, in the beer gardens, for some silly reason, we don’t seem to put ashtrays out. It’s all part of that discouragement tactic I think, but there are fag butts and cigarette packets all over the place. It has definitely gotten worse since the smoking ban. We also have a non-smoking beer garden, which people are very surprised at. Some people find it absolutely ludicrous. It’s crazy.”

Smoking on a night out is definitely problematic. Scrambling through the hordes in Ziggy’s, losing your friends inside, and catching pneumonia whilst curbing your cravings in the rain. Madeleline Adams, a second year, says, “it’s alright on campus because there are lots of places outside to sit. Its more annoying if you’re out in town.” Palmer acknowledges that, “In town, big clubs have struggled a little way to come to terms with the smoking ban. On the main road outside Gallery, you have twenty or thirty people having a cigarette with a busy road in front of them and it wasn’t ideal, though of course that has been rectified now [with a small smoking area to the back of the club].” That said, the relegated smokers often bond during their enforced torment. It’s the perfect place to chat, flirt (or ‘smirt’, as this new phenomenon has been named) and meet new people, given that you not only share a common bond but can actually hear each other’s drunken attempts at seduction.

Whilst England may have gone Smoke Free, my fellow addicts and I still can’t quite bring ourselves to do it. I shall just have to accept that on a night out, my perfectly coiffed hair will be ruined, my mascara will run and I will die of pneumonia; all for my unconditional love of my little nicotine stick.

Sarah Goddard’s short play ambitiously seeks to convey an author’s descent into madness. Daniel (Robert Kodama) is inspired by the case of a guilty murderess, Alice (Jessica Hill) and becomes obsessed with documenting her apparent innocence. As the play progresses his words confuse truth and fiction.

Robert Kodama admirably took on the challenging role of Daniel at late notice. Playing an infatuated author, he so often recited from his notepad that he could have been reading lines from his script. His muse, however, gave what was undoubtedly the finest performance of the night, whether silent or passionately engaging with her monologues.

The dialogue was intelligent and perceptive, although the characterisations could have been developed further. Perhaps because of trying to convey a 50 minute metamorphosis into insanity, the script lacked cohesion and, as claimed, “[stretched] into the realm of the absurd”. The intentional repetition of similar scenes, each an embellishment of the former, sought to illustrate the progression of Daniel’s literary lunacy. The choice of implementing a narrator, although played brilliantly by James Quelch, was arguably superfluous.

The staccato of the several long, avoidable set changes, dampened the tension created by the actors and well executed lighting. This aside, Sarah Goddard’s direction and use of theatrical devices were interesting. She experimented with dialogue flowing from mid-conversation to stream of consciousness. Possibly the most successful convention was the use of masked figures, creating innovative layers and parallels to the scenes.

Excessive use of smoke machines, stocked portrayal of women and several unnecessary roles, certainly added to the absurdity of the production. Not to mention a bizarre attempt at humour and the difficult but poor performance of the protagonist, whose monologues were often unintelligible. Overall, an enjoyable play, although perhaps not for the reasons intended.