Oxford's Botanic Garden – Nature's Art

The University of Oxford ‘s Botanic Garden is an exhibition of art of the natural world. My first thought when entering the grounds of the garden was that it did not look especially outstanding or interesting. Upon closer examination at the individual plants, species, and architecture of the garden, my appreciation for the garden was greatly increased.

Each different plant was accompanied by a small sign that gave its scientific name and the area of the world in which it is naturally found. The garden boasts an impressive range of species and areas of the world, including Asia, the Middle East, the Mediterranean, Europe, North and South America, and Africa. Some of the plants from around the same areas were grouped together. The floral arrangements of the plants were beautiful. It is obvious that the architects of the garden carefully planned the layout of the garden, including which plants to place next to each other and where in the garden these plants would be situated. The general layout of the garden was small, short rows of plants, which went down the area of the garden. Next to these rows were large “Narcissus” trees. The variety of plants, floral and simply green, tall and short, also created a pleasant balance and visually interesting landscape. Some of these plants needed wooden structures to grow around, and some were bended to form different shapes. Further in the garden, there were some species of plants whose natural habitats were in mountainous terrains, and these plants were able to grow on large rocks in the garden. While these flowers were less traditionally beautiful, and the flowers were smaller, I liked some of these plants more than the more traditional plants. The mix of rocks and plants created very alluring scenery.

One of the most striking things I noticed while in the garden were the bees, constantly flying from flower to flower, carrying pollen, busily moving about. It was quite amazing to see the process of pollination and plant reproduction so closely and clearly. The bees themselves were striking, their yellow and black bodies often creating interesting clashes of colors with the red, purple, and white hues of the flowers they were busy pollinating. This experience reminded me of the importance of various relationships and interactions between animals and plants in nature.

My favorite thing about the garden was the fruit and vegetable plants and trees. These represented the functionality and utility of plants, and reminded me that not only is nature beautiful, but it is also very practical. Young, growing apple and orange trees had moved past the flowering stages and had begun bearing fruit. I could see the small apples growing, some green, and some red. The oranges were of a greenish-orange color, as they were far from ripe. One patch of ground was dedicated to the growing of strawberries. The strawberry plants looked like weeds to me, until I saw one miniscule, green strawberry peek out from under a leaf. Across from the fruit trees were several rows of vegetables, including cabbage, peas, broad beans, and many other vegetables. All of the fruit and vegetable plants clearly demonstrated do not just grow on the ground and look pretty, but that they play a crucial role in the functioning of planet Earth.
The botanic garden is an exhibition of nature’s own art. It is also a reminder that beautiful things can also be functional and practical, as the plants in this garden are. Overall, this garden achieved its goals in illustrating nature’s art and beauty, as well as demonstrating the usefulness of plants.

A Triple Act: Stand-up at the Oxford Glee Club

The Oxford Glee Club is electro-draped in red. Stepping onto its portico is like finding yourself on red Mars with margaritas. Chase, Alexis, and I sat in the back, watching a staggering and clumsy crowd for that early hour enter into the club. There were the dating couples, the married folks, three drunken hen parties, a wild stag party, and the thirty- or forty- somethings wearing shorts even at night because its their day off work.

We had all gathered this evening into this funky club with its yellow, plastic furniture and its very enthusiastic lights set for entertainment. It was hard for me to believe that any show, especially one with the slightly tacky/hip exterior, could unite this miasma of people. My main concern for this comedy event, was, could it live up its exuberant outside with serious and charming humor? Or would it just be plastic and unfeeling?

The lights above us went out, a drumroll, sparkling light bedazzled all around us, and the screen fell away to reveal the massive letters of ‘GLEE.’ I was biting my nails at this epileptic beginning.

The host was an Australian named Matt Hardy. He had a routine about how the British think Australians are novelty people. I found him adorable, with his young Homer Simpson mop of hair and slightly biting humor. Still, I was hoping for more than cheap jokes. Serious humor would soon show itself.

William Hastings, the first act, was a loveable and sarcastic twenty-five-years-old Canadian dude. In a blitzkrieg combination of bathroom humor, family, Canadian-in-England, young guy-ness lack of ambition, and telemarketing he asserted himself as an endearing guy who has experienced some of the crazy, strangeness of ordinary life. He reminded me of myself, in that he is obstinately purposeful about things that other people would think odd. He ended with saying he does stand-up to find the guy who insulted his mom while he was soliciting over the phone in his job as a telemarketer. Then, he left the stage, saying the person was in the Oxford Glee Club tonight. An insane maneuver to create humor and make every person in the audience a little bit scared of and respectful of him.

Next was the heavily British-accented Steve Shanyaski. He came right out with a female’s voice, his wife’s. His act is of the goof-ball variety. He erotically rubs the giant ‘E’ of ‘GLEE,’ slurs his words, and mutters curses in imitation of his wife drunk. The crowd really liked him, but mostly because of his female voice impression and stunts rather than the content of his jokes.

Lastly is Carey Marx, a powerful comedian, but short on emotion. His jokes were mainly about science: natural selection, global warming, and researchers who measure the length of polar bear penises. All of his lines wonderfully and incredibly smart, each one playing on the other. He went as far as he could go with the audience; two of the hen parties stopped laughing when he tapped on Creationism, bestiality, and homophobia. What he said did not bother me, and I am glad he pushed the boundary. Yet, I wished for some of the cutes and cuddles of the last comedians to dilute his successive punch lines. The Oxford Glee Club is not just a gaudy place of amusement; its stand-up shows mean business.

"X-Men: First Class": A Film Critique

SPOILER ALERT: Do not read the review if you intend on watching this movie.

A standard staple to the summer season--the gratuitous action film--presents itself in the form of a comic book prequel, appealing to hard core fans of the franchise, their mothers, and even the girls who will never date them. This prequel required very little knowledge of the X-Men comic universe, which proves to be ideal for movie goers seeking a noncommittal form of entertainment. However the backstory of Professor Xavier, Magneto, and Mystique and the cameo by Wolverine provided fans young and old a more refined sense of intimacy with the characters, akin to having an old friend share a childhood secret.

Available at any theatre near you, "X-Men: First Class" offers viewers a visually-stunning retelling of the historical Bay of Pigs and the Cold War: a reinterpretation that involves mutants using the heads of state as pawns for a nuclear terrorist attack. In terms of its temporal and geographic significance, this prequel spans from Poland during World War II to Oxford, Washington, D.C., and Cuba during the Cold War era. This interweaving of historical event with fictional mutant characters anchors an elusive plotline to a few powerful scenes. However, in the context of our current educational system, “X-Men: First Class” could have single-handedly created an entire generation of Americans who believe that the Cold War was the result of mutant terrorist activity.

The thematic elements of “X-Men: First Class” are similar to those in the previous films: mutant visibility in society, the ambiguity of good and evil, and the complex nature of Magneto. Unlike its darker predecessors, “X-Men: First Class” thoroughly explores the questions of fitting in within society as the young mutants in the film struggle to define themselves in relation to the standards of human culture. The most potent example of this conflict is when the character Beast—played by British actor Nicholas Hoult—injects himself with a serum designed to hide the deformities of his mutation, which only served to enhance his mutated appearance. As a coming-of-age film, this prequel might appeal to the concerns of its target audience: 12-16 year-olds who find themselves at a crossroads between childhood and adulthood. With every coming-of-age film, a cast composed of the young and potentially talented is required. With every summer film, a cast with famous and infamous actors is necessary. This prequel succeeds in both criteria, as James McAvoy (Professor Xavier) and Kevin Bacon (Sebastian Shaw) acts alongside the precocious Nicholas Hoult and Jennifer Lawrence as Mystique.

While its cinematic themes are the film’s first-class strengths, the dialogue is passably second-class. The dialogue of “X-Men: First Class” appear to be so simplistic and generic in form that its screenplay resembles an amateur caricature of a Transformers script. However, the generic dialogue is only a minor deterrence from the overall entertainment value of the film. A viewing of “X-Men: First Class” will provide a ticket-buyer all the elements of an entertaining summer film: an unrealistic plot, genetically-blessed actors and actresses in various states of undress, explosions, and a cliffhanger for the off chance that the movie is profitable enough for a sequel.

Live at the Glee Club!

The Glee Club: Oxford is a cozy upstairs bar above a restaurant nightclub that hosts stand-up comedians every Saturday night. It sat around sixty audience members in booths and tables arranged in a semi-circle around the small stage. The host for the evening, Matt Hardy, came on and riled up the crowd, mainly by heckling the three groups of loud, drunken women out on Hen Night (a cultural celebration similar to a bachelorette party). As an Australian, he made many humorous remarks and observations about British culture. As a foreigner, I appreciated this.

He then introduced the opening act, John Hastings, a Canadian comedian. Hastings’ style was pretty casual and genuine. He told demeaning stories about the pressures of growing up with successful parents and funny anecdotes about crazy ex-girlfriends. His set was about twenty minutes, and it was very well-received. It was pretty standard compared to most stand-up performances. He brought back punchlines throughout the set and I appreciated his authentic tone. He also interacted a bit with the audience, and the improvisation was witty and refreshing mixed in with his set jokes.

There was a break after the first set for people to buy drinks and use the restroom. Host Matt Hardy returned to the stage to a more rambunctious and obnoxious crowd. In this setting, I began to truly understand the role of a host at a comedy show. Hardy did a great job creating the most inviting atmosphere possible for the next performer—even at the expense and his reputation. He took some cheap shots at audience members so they would be respectful for the next comedian, and though it detracted from the reception of his jokes, it resulted in a respectable audience for the next act. I didn’t catch the name of the comedian that then took the stage. He was not listed, and judging by his short time slot, I believe he was a last minute addition. His bit as a comedian was to be just socially awkward enough to be funny, but not enough that the audience would feel bad for him. He often mumbled and trailed off a bit while he delivered dry and directionless jokes. The corky awkwardness was very divisive for the audience. I really enjoyed it, but I feel it could have gotten a bit stale if it continued for more than his ten minute set.

The next comedian introduced was named Steve Shanyaski. His act was very cheesy and hokey. The first five minutes were of him impersonating what a girl sounds like. Pockets of the crowd would burst into laughter any time he opened his mouth, and it was clear that the drinks of the evening were beginning to take their toll. His comedy was not very smart, and relied much more on an energetic, and in my opinion slightly obnoxious, presentation. He brought a guitar in toward the end of the set, but it became clear he only knew how to play a G chord.

After another break, the headliner, Carey Marx, was introduced. He by far had the most laid-back attitude, holding a pint of beer and slowly and patiently delivering jokes. If he weren’t on the stage with lights focused on him, most would believe he was just the funny friend at the bar. He also crossed every line of appropriateness possible—social, political, religious, everything. He had an absurdly incredible flow of logic for most of his jokes, somehow justifying (quite convincingly) that the best thing a person could do to save the planet was punching a clown and fisting a cow. He was also quite vocal that he was about to say something inappropriate and that he knew audience members were not going to like it, but he continued on unconcerned. Judging by his delivery, he was clearly a veteran. He presented his jokes, rather than selling them, as if he knew the joke was funny regardless of whether the audience laughed.

Overall, the night was a great success. The venue was small and intimate, and the room really took on the personality of the audience, and Carey Marx was one of the funniest comedians I have ever seen. Other than a minor misstep in the second half of the second act, it was a very funny evening.

X-Men: First Class at the Odeon Cinema

With campy dialogue, thin motivation and mostly unimpressive acting, X-Men: First Class will not win any Oscars at this year’s awards. But, then again, that surely was not Matthew Vaughn’s aspiration when he signed up to direct this latest X-Men film. Surely his intent was to bring X-Men fans a fast, fun, action-packed movie filled with incredible superpowers and a backstory that would lend depth to the characters we encountered in the first X-Men film. And, in that regard, the film delivers.

Though Matthew Vaughn has only directed three other films, all of his directorial outings have been met with critical success. His fantastic Layer Cake did not do well in the box office, but was universally praised by reviewers, and his second film, Stardust, was both a critical and commercial success. Matthew Vaughn comes off his last film, Kick-Ass, red hot, and continues his success with X-Men: First Class. The film does what it promises; it gives us big effects, high-octane action, and the explanation of the relationship between Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) and Erik Lehnsherr (better known as Magneto, played by Michael Fassbender), as well as the origins of Raven (Mystique, played by Jennifer Lawrence) and Hank McCoy (Beast, played by Berkshire native Nicholas Hoult). The relationship between Magneto and Professor Xavier is particularly captivating (and is the main crux of the film), and will do much to explain the events of the original X-Men film to those who have not read the X-Men comics.

Though it is clear that First Class is not intended to be anything more than a summer thrill, the film, and Vaughn’s direction in particular, is in need of sharpening. Though there are some nice moments between characters (the scene where Professor X helps Magneto turn the radio dish, as well as the chilling scene between the young Magneto and the evil Sebastian Shaw come to mind), the connections are at best fleeting, and at worst laughable. When Mystique and Beast reveal their mutual desire to be normal the air is so heavily saccharine that it is hard to stifle laughter (and many in the theater did not). When Magneto finds Mystique lying in his bed naked, the viewer is left scratching his head. When did they develop this sexual tension? When, indeed, had they even talked in the movie?

What is frustrating is that mistakes like these could have easily been avoided with a talented director and writer like Vaughn. McAvoy and Fassbender do a decent job in their respective roles, but it is hard to imagine Vaughn—who had such clever and fast-paced dialogue in Layer Cake, and who elevated Stardust from a potential candy-coated mess to a genuinely touching film—missing so many opportunities to create a connection between his characters, and failing to make their motivations intelligible. Though one would not expect a summer blockbuster like X-Men: First Class to reach new emotional heights, it leaves a sour taste in the mouth that Vaughn’s usual skill is mostly wasted here.

It is hard to fault the film too much, though; we are introduced to a slew of new and exciting mutants, including Havok, who can shoot huge pulses of energy that cut and incinerate targets into pieces; Darwin, who can grow gills and shield himself with armadillo-like armor; and the main villain, Shaw, who can absorb any energy (including nuclear energy) and unleash it with deadly force. The film never slows its pace during its two-hour runtime, and the Oxford crowd will get a special treat, as the film spends a good deal of time on campus. It is a bit worrisome for Vaughn and his cast, though, that after the film most of the audience was talking about Hugh Jackman’s cameo as Wolverine rather than the film itself.

Laughter is the Best Medicine

Chase, Becca, and I saw a Saturday night Stand Up Comedy show at the Glee Club in Oxford. Although I would not associate the word “glee” with the experience, the show was funny and well worth my time. The show tonight consisted of one MC/comedian and four stand up comedians. Each comedian brought something different to the table and, while some were funnier than others, their styles of comedy balanced each other well and helped to compose an altogether enjoyable show. Common themes throughout the show were cultural differences, sex, relationships, and most of all, self-deprecating humor. In the following artist statement, I will briefly categorize each comedian’s performance style and then discuss how the performances of each contributed to common themes and the genre of comedy as a whole.

Each comedian had a different comedy-delivery-style. The Australian MC primarily used self-deprecating, cultural humor to connect with the audience. Although he started off in friendly control of the audience, as the show went on the crowd got more rowdy, he attempted to play an authority figure so much that he was less likeable by the end. John Hastings, the second comedian, delivered his jokes as though he was sharing a story with a group of friends and helped us to be “in on the joke.” His performance was the most appealing to me because it made me feel like I was a positive part of his comedic process. Jerry Howe, the third comedian, was the joke of his own act. He hilariously played off his own awkward persona to get laughs, but probably would not have been funny for much longer than his allotted ten minutes. Steve Shanyaski, the third comedian, was my least favorite of the group, despite that the crowd seemed to love him. Unlike the other comedians in the show, his comedy was “hammy,” in the sense that he was saying, “Look, I’m telling a funny joke,” rather than using subtle, more thoughtful humor like the others did. Finally, the last performer, Carey Marx stole the show with his direct, crass, and boundary crossing humor that openly pushed us as audience members to the edge our comfort zones. His act was like one big crescendo, with few laughs at the start, but howling laughter by the end.

Each comedian’s act contained some extent of cultural differences, sex, relationships, and most of all, self-deprecating humor. While “cultural differences” primarily refers to nationality (Australian - MC, Canadian - John Hastings), it also more generally refers to people of different backgrounds and belief, including where someone lives in the UK, gender, and religion. Therefore, this idea of “cultural differences” is broadly sweeping, but underscores the idea that comedy is largely based upon how people differ and disagree. It seems that we use humor to help us make sense of, or at the least make light of, these differences, which we may not always understand. Sex and relationships generally fit into the same category, but they differ in that “relationships” can also be platonic. The audience seemed to find more laughter in the platonic relationships to which we can all relate than the relatively obscure sex jokes. This reaction may have to do with the specific Oxford audience, but likely also stems from the fact that we enjoy that comedy helps us to laugh at the seemingly mundane aspects of our own lives. The popular use of self-deprecating humor also seems to stem form the idea that we audience members like the excuse to laugh at ourselves. We as people have a programmed aversion to embarrassment, so I propose that the comedians realize that once they make fools of themselves, we audience members feel like we have permission to laugh at our own foolishness. As a result, making fun of ourselves is a large part of the whole comedic experience.

In analyzing the themes of the comedy show, in particular the idea that we enjoy laughing at ourselves, I find myself analyzing my perception of comedy as a whole art form. Comedy seems to be society’s way of saying, “it’s okay” to every scenario. “It’s okay,” as long as you can laugh about it. “It” could be anything from the fleeting moments (tripping on your own shoelace, sitting in wet paint, failing an exam) to the life changing moments (politics, marriage, death, war, etc.). For example, I will never forget the first episode of Saturday Night Live after September 11th during which Mayor Giuliani stood on stage with members of the New York Fire Department and essentially said to New York City and the rest of the country, “It’s okay. You can laugh again.” Comedy helps people to find perspective and simply move on to the next joke in both the mundane and the extraordinary. Laughter really is the best medicine.

Form Follows Function at the Oxford Botanic Gardens

It is impossible to visit the University of Oxford Botanic Gardens without first passing by the rose garden in front of the Daubeny House, a building of Magdalen College that shares the property. The rose garden, while small, embodies the characteristics of a traditional western garden: symmetrical, elegant, and immaculate. Without paying any entry fee passers-by can walk through this small garden and imagine it as a shadow of the landscape one might see beyond the stone walls of the Oxford Botanic Gardens. Such expectations would be theoretically flattering, though unfounded.

The Oxford Botanic Gardens finds its origin not in pleasure or aesthetics, but in purpose. In the early 17^th century Sir Henry Danvers provided the first endowment for a scientific garden. The site has served as a resource for natural medicine and scientific research ever since. The centuries of history behind the garden are embodied in the landscape layout of the premises. The large and central Walled Garden constitutes the oldest part of the design. Other areas of the Oxford Botanic Gardens—the Rock Garden, the Water Garden, and the greenhouses—exist outside the original walls as more recent additions.

Besides telling the chronology of the gardens, the landscape plan also tells the story of an aesthetic evolution from symmetry to asymmetry. The Walled Garden is organized upon a central axis that runs from Danby Arch, near the entry to the gardens, to the passage out to the Rock Garden at the opposite end. Two conic topiaries, the only two plants in the garden pruned into a purposefully aesthetic shape, frame the central walkway punctuated by a circular fountain at its centre. Other paths cross the Walled Garden in perpendicular grids, establishing rectangular greens where geometry continues to prevail in regularly sized rectangular plots. Each plant is labelled with a scientific exactitude that complements the symmetry of the garden. However, despite this framework of symmetry the Oxford Botanic Gardens is no typical English rose garden. Besides the obvious lack of roses, the landscape occasionally breaks the rule of symmetry. Trees sparsely flank the regular walkways at irregular distances; evergreen trees stand in proximity to deciduous trees with obvious incongruity.

The asymmetry increases as visitors pass through the wall at the far end of the Walled Garden and gain an initial glimpse of the Rock Garden and plots beyond it. An oval pool welcomes visitors to this new vista and establishes a deliberate deviation from the superficial regularity of the Walled Garden and its circular pool. Roughly hewn stones covered in flora surround the oval pool in a steeped fashion, though the formation rises higher on the left side than the right. The right side seems to overcompensate where the stone encroaches further out onto the central axis pathway than on the other side. Beyond the rock garden, paths extend in diagonal and curved fashions, contrasting with the vestiges of symmetry evoked by the rectangular plots of the fruit, vegetable, and herb collection on the east side of the yard. On several of the larger plots of land nothing grows at all, the soil lying fallow for future gardening.

The shift towards asymmetry beyond the Walled Garden is unmistakable, though one might attribute it to the irregular boundaries of the outer garden. However, no such excuse exists for the final and most modern area of the Oxford Botanic Gardens, the greenhouses. Each greenhouse has regular rectangular perimeters—a blank canvas for the landscape architect. Yet, rather than conforming to the conventions of symmetry, the landscape of each demonstrates a unique, concerted effort to explore the possibilities of asymmetry. The largest of them, the Palm House, appears conventional upon first entry. A straight path down the middle of the greenhouse mirrors the effect of the Walled Garden, leading to a central point. However, this central point is not a circle but an oval, oriented askew from the axis that the entry pathway suggests.

This oval, hearkening back to the oval pool in the rock garden, heralds an experimental asymmetry that pervades the rest of the green houses. The remaining area of the Palm House is divided by organic undulating pathways that radiate from the central oval. The plant border of the insectivorous room juts out unexpectedly, piercing the rounded rectangular floor space. The Fern room embraces asymmetry with a more thematic awareness; its spiral floor echoes the unfurling of a fern frond.

The asymmetry of the greenhouses is both unexpected and refreshing. However, these deviations from the norm would not be as noticeable or poignant without the contrast of the more traditional Walled Garden. The Walled Garden does not represent a weak point of creativity in the layout of the Oxford Botanic Gardens, but rather the source of aesthetic power and cohesion. It is the standard by which the experimental landscape architecture comes to life. By no means homogenous, the Oxford Botanic Gardens conveys a sense of aesthetic wholeness that is sure to affect both the casual visitor and the serious explorer. Though it is no English rose garden, the Oxford Botanic Garden’s offerings are far more complex, interesting, and (at the very least) useful.