The Tab Fashion team were out in full force to capture a few of the well dressed occupants of Somerset House for London Fashion Week  A/W 2012. We were absolutely spoilt for choice but here are a few of our favourites…

Cambridge Arts Theatre, 21st-25th February, 7.45pm, £15-25

Directed by Kate Sagovsky

4 out of 5 stars

Fate has a funny old way of ordering the articles you choose to publish. Just my luck that after presenting a scathingly elegant argument in praise of my craft, I’m delivered with the hardest review of my short, glittering career.

The play’s aesthetic is stunning. One expects nothing less of the annual Marlowe and their professional director, of course, but Kate Sagovsky and her technical team deserve praise for dreaming up (hur hur) a concept which is unapologetically contemporary while still creative and imaginative. Well – for the most part, but we’ll save the bloodshed for later.

Photos by Sana Ayub

Of the three neatly-separated worlds – lovers, Mechanicals, fairies – the first was the one which really earned the stars at the top of this review. Charlotte Quinney, Will Attenborough, James Parris and Ellie Nunn were an astonishingly adept ensemble as the four young lovers at the heart of the piece.

The sprawling four-way fight that happens at the very middle was beautifully slick and hilarious, with the hands-down-best fourth-wall jokes I’ve ever seen. This alone would have been enough, but it was the fact that Sagovsky managed to tease out the genuine anguish and heartbreak driving the entire scene which pushed the quartet into real greatness.

Ellie Nunn delivered the standout performance of the night, encapsulating all that was good about the production. She did exactly what is demanded of a Shakespearean actor – take lines which have been carelessly brushed over after 400 years of familiarity and press them into life again.

The Mechanicals were instantly charming and receive much kudos from me – making ancient jokes funny again is tough. It was very much hit-and-miss, but the onslaught was so enthusiastically relentless that ultimately the hits had far more impact than the misses.

Alex MacKeith shouldered the epic role of Bottom well, though the character was occasionally sacrificed in favour of trying to fit in more gags – he was at times paradoxically too good a performer to be a plausible Bottom. Indeed, the whole group of them had the knack of carrying things on a bit too long.

Things fell apart, however, whenever the fairies made an appearance. I could have liked a lot of the things Sakovsky tried – the weird physical-movementy thing she attempted in particular could have worked, but there was just too much going on, and frankly the underlying performances weren’t strong enough to support it.

The stark simplicity which made the modernisation of lovers and the Mechanicals work was lost and drowned in incomprehension. I later learned that Sagovsky is largely a movement director, which explained a lot – clearly the actors had rehearsed their arses off doing flips and tricks, but all it really amounted to was distracting amateur acrobatics. And ultimately this detracted from what really mattered and what really needed work – the textual performance.

Matteo Oxley’s Oberon made little to no impact, and his camp wriggling was more giggle-inducing than unsettling or creepy or whatever it was meant to be. Harry Carr also certainly looks like a great Puck, but seemed to be riding on good visual casting alone, which was disappointing.

I’ll venture to say that, at its best, the play contained some of the best theatre this term. I guess in a funny way it’s a tribute to the fantastic disjointedness of the piece that I managed to simultaneously be dazzled and disappointed by it. But the course of true criticism never did run smooth.

The CUSU Women’s Campaign has called for Dominique Strauss-Kahn to be disinvited to the Union Society.

Strauss-Kahn is due to address the Society on March 9th, but the Women’s Campaign has urged the Union to withdraw the invitation in an online petition.

The former IMF head quit his position after a New York hotel maid accused him of rape 2011. He has been at the centre of a media frenzy for months and is currently being held by French police investigating a prostitution ring.

The Women’s Campaign accuses the Union committee of a “callous desire to exploit gender crime allegations in the service of controversy.”

“The political decision to host DSK feeds an existent culture of silence and shame around rape, in which alleged perpetrators are given a platform mostly denied to survivors of sexual violence.”

“Free speech is about more than inviting rich, white, powerful (in this case allegedly rapist[sic]) men to define the Union’s termcard year after year.”

The petition has gathered over 240 signatures so far, including someone calling himself Dominique Strauss-Kahn.

Union Society President Katie Lam told The Tab that “The Union stands for free speech and providing a neutral platform for it.

“Inviting any speaker doesn’t imply endorsement or indeed disapproval. The only criterion that we consider is whether a speaker will be interesting for our members or not.”

Asked about the claims that rich, white and powerful men consistently make up the Union termcard, Katie said that “the proportion of female speakers has more than doubled. This year is the highest proportion we’ve ever had.”

It’s not the first time The Union has faced a backlash for a controversial invitation. Tory Minister Eric Pickles received an angry welcome when anti-cuts protesters stormed the Union last year during his speech.

Have your say in our readers’ poll:

Corpus Playroom, 21st-25th February, 7pm, £5-6

Directed by Fred Ward

2 out of 5 stars

In the opening pages of The Fall, Camus’ protagonist tries to predict what historians of the future will think of the sticky, tumescent humanity of today.

Paraphrased into fewer words, but with an equal lack of historiographical optimism, ‘they read newspapers and fucked each other’ is the essence of his conclusion.

Had Camus been witness to last night’s production of Les Justes at the Corpus Playroom, he might well have been tempted to amend this to: ‘they read my plays and fucked them up.’

The production struggled from the beginning in one fundamental way: there was no vocal distinction between lines of dialogue, and lines of overwrought justification for acts of revolutionary violence.

No matter how weak some of the performances were, or how disjointed Camus’ absurdist interpretation of terrorist action seems (at least when performed in the naturalistic manner of last night’s production), it’s the director’s role to bring out these variations in speech. Fred Ward messed this up.

As a result, the central performances given by Max Thoma (Stepan) and Charlie Merriman (Ivan) grated more than their characters’ annoying quirks were presumably intended to, which got in the way of those empathetic bonds between character and audience that theatre’s supposedly meant to make happen.

Nonetheless, Merriman showed range in his performance – moments between him and Georgia Wagstaff (Dora) had a touching sincerity at points. This was unfortunately detracted from by traces of narcissism in the long—pauses—-to——signify—-emotion that crept in whenever else he was on stage. Less of this business and he’d obviously be an excellent character actor.

In contrast to Ivan The Terrible Romantic, was shouty-shouty-red-faced-angry-revolutionary Stepan. When he wasn’t fist-pumping the air to show lots of hate for the bourgeoisie, Thoma’s gaze remained constantly and perplexingly fixed on the middle distance (look up and center to visualize Great Achievement!) – meaning he had to squint into the stage lights quite a lot.

But there are two stars at the top of this review! ‘Surely that’s got to mean SOMETHING,’ screams the TPJ of my mind.

‘IT MEANS NOTHING! NONE OF THIS MEANS ANYTHING AT ALL!’ I sob back, but still feel compelled to write the following justification: the set, costume and lighting design were consistently brilliant; dark wooden desks and chairs that gave a clean and functional structure to the stage space along with brightly lit interiors that made handsome silhouettes from the sharp grey costumes, with only a cursory hint at Slavonic peasant garb.

Like when the RSC does a Chekhov, only (thankfully) without all the fucking accordions.  According to the programme, the director’s mum drove all the props to Cambridge from Somerset – something for everyone to be grateful for.

Matt Clayton’s performance as Skouratov and Robbie Haylett’s appearance as Folka redeemed a production that had been lagging up to the interval. Haylett’s physicality as a wearied prisoner was inconsistent, but his slow and deliberate movement was one of the few aspects of the show to genuinely disturb. He looked incredibly weird. Clayton gets the honour of being the only actor in the production to not fall into a labored naturalism, and instead hum, tick and gurn out a much more interesting performance that suited the work’s original aim of absurdism.

Les Justes is a technically competent show; it uses sound clips (apart from the dreadful ‘horses’ SFX) better than anything I’ve ever seen in Cambridge and it looks pretty stylish. The acting’s clunky at points, but it’s not completely awful.

However, the general execution (hur hur) of the play in this production bored the sans-culottes off me. I care quite a lot about the big ‘issues’ of this work, I’m also a complete sucker for personal-and-political-conflict costume drama. But this show never gave me the chance to invest emotionally or politically in any of its theatrical arguments. No pardon granted, just let it hang.

ADC Theatre, 21st-25th February, 7.45pm, £6-10

Directed by Charlie Parham

4 out of 5 stars

Ah, the old nauseating poshos banged up together in a big strange house game, what?

With a mad thickee thrown in to counterpoint the whiff of success and the arrogance? Intriguing tonal shifts, pitched between laughs and deep discomfort? Booze, drugs and general naughtiness? You interest me strangely, old bird.

The Priory is a sparklingly intelligent play, with a peculiarly accurate ear for awkward dialogue and occasional uncomfortable subtext. A group of thirty-something professionals are invited to a New Year’s party out in the country.

There are histories between them, by God. And there’s a person who keeps banging on about her sickening children – ‘Archie’ and ‘Clemmy’, if you please. A gay architect, a travel writer… It’s that sort of crowd. The one that many of us will be involved in soon enough.

First of all, what a glorious set. An enormous room at the entrance of an old priory – hallway, lounge and dining room all at once. Every square inch of the ADC stage seemed to be filled, and each part seemed to be important, and in harmony with the rest. A full-on staircase, flanked by stain-glass windows, leading up to bedrooms in the very far corner of the stage. I’m no expert on the logistics of this sort of thing, but it seems to me that Jess Lane and Sarah Fox have achieved something special here.

Rozzi Nicholson-Lailey, in her central performance as the party’s host, Kate, also stood out. She is effortless in her naturalism, which is, paradoxically, an extremely difficult thing to pull off. It rarely seemed as if she was acting, which was precisely the kind of performance that her role demanded.

The performances were generally very good, but there was too much acting from some, too many actorly inflections and forced gesturing. George Johnston (Carl) and Ned Carpenter (Ben) were perhaps the main culprits here, although I still enjoyed their interactions with other characters.

Genevieve Gaunt puts in a very good comic performance as Laura, the, er, less educated character designed to counterpoint the others. But I wasn’t sure about her accent, a sort of East Enders-meets-dizzy-Australian. She got the most laughs of the evening nonetheless, and deservedly so. Mary Galloway puts in another excellent performance as Rebecca, the stomach-churningly rude, successful one – she was probably my favourite character.

So, all this excellence, and only four stars? Well, being a Tab reviewer, I took a star away for purely personal reasons. It wasn’t because no-one seemed to be remotely inebriated during the play, despite the prodigious consumption of gin-and-drugs.

It has nothing to do with some of the exchanges being paced too slow and dragging on a bit, or indeed the distracting thunder-and-rain noises that jarred with the realism of the thing. It’s simply because James Bloor had the effrontery to credit himself in the programme as having previously played ‘William Fergus Stuart’ in ‘William Fergus Stuart – The Revival’. I played William Fergus Stuart in ‘William Fergus Stuart – The Revival’, you sodding bastard. Don’t think you can get away with that shit.

ADC Theatre, 21st February, 11pm, £5-6

5 out of 5 stars

It was the liveliness filling the house and the beaming smiles on every single spectator that made this year’s annual CUMTS Gala a true contender for the much sought after Big Five. All credit to the ten stars of the night, who bopped and belted away, securing this show as one to remember.

It got underway when the band struck up with the ‘Overture’ from The Producers, a fantastic display of their capabilities. The band and chorus were solid all night, with only the odd dodgy note or loss of ensemble, terrifically conducted by Chris Nash. CUMTS President Flo Carr, complete with angel wings, then took to the stage and confidently commenced with her commentary; throughout she knitted the sections together with speed and wit.

The show achieved the ideal balance of old and new. Opening with a quad of golden-oldies, we were taken from the depths of New York with Guys and Dolls to the Wild West with a toe-tapping Calamity Jane routine by Rosie Brown. Ceci Mourkogiannis dominated the stage with her performance of the popular ‘Feeling Good’, accompanied by an all-valves-blazing brass section.

Next, three of the leading females and males showcased two rather racy numbers in a battle of the sexes. The girls, with ‘Gotta Get a Gimmick’ from Gypsy, flaunted an array of talents, with Emily Burns’ highly proficient trumpet playing and the appearance of an LED-flashing corset. The boys fought back with a rendition of Kiss me Kate’s ‘Too Darn Hot’, James Partridge, Martin Kent and Jack Mosedale all producing strong vocals as three suave gentlemen. The verdict? The unexpected turn at the end of the song had the audience in fits, giving the men the edge.

The romantic classics opened with the tear-jerking ‘All I Ask of You’ from Phantom of the Opera. Chemistry abound as we witnessed Will Karani and Catherine Harrison creating their melodies note-perfectly to the gushing violins. Jess Jupp proceeded in a similar style, belting out ‘I’d Give My Life for You’ from Miss Saigon with all the passion the number demands.

Following ‘How Do You Solve a Problem like Maria?’ from the most raunchily dressed The Sound of Music nuns I have ever witnessed, Guy Woolf faced the tricky task of pulling off an unfamiliar song, ‘I Believe’ from upcoming Book of Mormon. A challenging melody and lyrics, Woolf stole the show with his powerful voice and audience interaction. To wrap it all up, the whole-cast finale ‘One Day More’ from celebrated Les Miserables raised applause even higher, some people taking to their feet.

The talent on show and the enthusiasm each cast member carried blazed the trail tonight, I look forward to what more CUMTS have to deliver.

Aren’t you excited? It’s nearly Oscar night! But who cares about the tuxes, the frocks, or who wins? It’s all about the chance that some of the most famous people in the world might go absolutely mental. Out of pure schadenfreude, The Tab invites you to celebrate some of the most hysterical reactions known to man, this side of the cast of an ADC mainshow dealing with receiving anything less than five stars.

Gwyneth Paltrow

The legend. “I (gasp) would (gasp) like (gasp) to thank (gasp) my agent.” Her mother’s face at 3.15: like someone thinking, ‘My God, what have I created…’

www.youtube.com/watch?v=NG9p1FFwxb0

Sally Field

“You like me! You really like me!” Everyone can be a little insecure sometimes. We all doubt ourselves, and then a reassuring compliment sets us right. But if you find yourself literally convulsing with paroxysms of gratitude, maybe you’re getting a little desperate…

www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_8nAvU0T5Y

Roberto Benigni

There’s an organisation in the States called the Joint Civic Committee of Italian-Americans, which campaigns against the stereotyping of Italians in American Film and TV. Watch as their work is joyfully undone. Life is indeed beautiful.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=8cTR6fk8frs

Michael Moore

Like the lamest Union floor speech ever. He starts inventing words (‘fictition…’), and then gets banged off. And he forgot his name and college.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=40T4-mUt1Jk

James Cameron

Insufferably, unbearably pleased with himself. When his name is announced he appears to undergo a petit mort. He high fives Arnie and gropes Kate Winslet. And the clip ends with, hands down, the cringiest moment in Oscar history – and that’s saying something.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=xJp7Wd6Af2A

Corpus Playroom, 21st-25th February, 9.30pm, £5-6

Written and directed by Ben Rowse

3 out of 5 stars

A farce which attests to the potential talents of the Cambridge comedy circuit, Pilot is simultaneously a frustrating and amusing experience for the audience. An uneven play delivering hits and misses in near equal quantity, Pilot is certainly funny, but lacks a crucial sense of direction.

The opening scene presents the play’s strongest material, which is carried exclusively by the Pilot (Adam Lawrence). It is a significant accolade to suggest that this phase of the performance approached the achievements of Airplane in terms of pure, comedic consistency. The introduction to Pilot in fact exceeds the joke-a-minute standard, Lawrence alone hilariously recreating the aeronautical fantasy in which we all suspect every airplane captain must be engaged.

One can’t help feeling, however, that Lawrence should have more confidence in his material. The quality of the monologue demands that the actor perform with swagger; instead, everything seemed slightly nervous and rushed. The passage nonetheless drew genuine laughter from the audience consistently for almost ten minutes. It is necessary to emphasise how rare and enjoyable an occurrence this is in Cambridge; alone, it’s a scene worth seeing.

Unfortunately, this nigh immaculate standard could not be matched by the following acts, and the play slipped into unevenness. The Co-pilot (Ben Pope) and the ‘Work Experience Guy’ (Dominic Biddle) gave equally energetic and indeed more controlled performances, but the quality of the writing suffered. The play descended into generating isolated jokes or puns which were essentially interchangeable. Frankly, the midsection was lax and confused. With a trio of talented actors, Rowse the potential to exploit the chemistry instead of blurting out one-liners was painfully evident.

Things did pick up a little towards the end. New exciting themes (terrorism! nationalism!) made an appearance, albeit quietly and unobtrusively. Rowse again seems to have missed a ripe opportunity to grapple with current issues.  Instead, his comical references to the daily world were tentative and almost shy. There was the potential in this production for relevant, funny, contemporary commentary, which was avoided. I don’t know why.

There is some potential here for some truly great comedy. All this production needs to take off (pun intended) is confidence, which I hope it will gain a little of during its run. I hope, as well, to see something more ballsy from Rowse in future. So I implore you: be that audience to give this show the lift it needs, and have yourself a thoroughly enjoyable evening in the deal.

Esperada Band have been busy soothing audiences with their mellow harmonies and poetic lyrics this term.

Four of their new songs feature on their EP album, The Night’s Tango; priced according to the buyer’s generosity (in true Radiohead style). You can download their album from itunes at http://itunes.apple.com/gb/album/elegy/id49979102… and also on Spotify!

TabTV caught up with Ned Mortimer and Vedantha Kumar following their acoustic set at Clare Gatehouse…

www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OT7v1fBF8g

LISTEN to Esperada’s tracks here and download them from our SoundCloud page.

There is something addictive about reading strangers’ secrets. Some are hilarious, some are emotional and some are so heart-warming you can’t help but be a little sick in your mouth. But whatever they are, they’re powerful,  authentic and you just can’t stop.

Postsecret is a community art project where people anonymously send their secrets on the back of a postcard to a stranger called Frank Warren in Maryland, USA. Starting in 2004 with just 3,000 postcards, randomly handed out in public places, it has snowballed into a nationwide movement. Secrets have become mini works of art; beautiful, ironic, with both photos and drawings. I’m sure I saw one written and mailed on a banana skin one week. There are galleries, art exhibitions and books with new secrets posted online every week to a website which receives over 5 million hits a month.

So, what’s your secret? University is a time of reinvention and self discovery and perhaps even your best friends don’t know all there is to know about you. Sharing a secret can be liberating, empowering and bloody scary, but it’s often the first step to dealing with it…

Maybe you eat your bogies when no one’s looking, or go to ridiculous lengths just to poo in solitude, or maybe it’s something darker and more personal; each secret is completely unique, and I bet you’ve got one.

Over the next few days and weeks, blank postcards will be appearing all around Cambridge. Look out for them in lecture theatres, libraries, p’lodges and bike baskets. They are an invitation to share your secret anonymously, and be part of the PidgeSecret project. Send them in via post or CUMS to “Dara Annett” at Selwyn College and remember to come back next week to see a selection of the ones we got.