Monday, 23 February 2015

New Arts Centre at University of Bath

When I joined the University of Bath as an undergraduate in 2007, the demands for a new arts centre had already been bubbling away for some time. Over my four years there, reporting on the arts for the student radio station, and later attending regular student representative meetings, the fabled arts centre - supposedly 'in progress' - began to feel increasingly utopic. So it was with delight that on my most recent visit to Bath this Tuesday I visited The Edge, which houses not only a theatre and rehearsal space, but arts studios, music practice rooms and a dance studio. The most pleasant surprise for me, though, were the three galleries run by the ICIA (Institute of Contemporary Interdisciplinary Arts), ensuring that free contemporary art would be a permanent feature of the new student experience.

Passage - Miranda Whall

A perfect fit for the inaugural exhibition at the ICIA, interdisciplinary artist Miranda Whall has created a multi-screen and surround-sound installation, charting her physical passage through Europe, Mexico and Thailand and the simultaneous artistic passage through her recent projects developed in each place. A Turkish dancer twirls from screen to screen, later a solitary goldfish swims the same path. Vibrant flashes of fruit flying through the jungle and smashing against a tree juxtapose the stillness of an old woman at rest. Singing in French and Spanish, bird calls, music, and muddled underwater whispers combine with the images to create an immersive and hypnotic experience.

0º00 Navigation (Part II) - Simon Faithfull

Equally interdisciplinary artist Simon Faithfull brings together a video, a slide show, a globe, and a range of postcards reproducing line drawings and diary extracts, to represent his 'obsessive and deranged journey exactly along the Greenwich Meridian'. Part I charted his journey through England, while in this second part, we travel from the top of France to the bottom of Africa. The slide show is particularly striking: rapidly progressing from verdant French countryside to barren Burkina Faso, with the coordinates at which each photograph was taken in the bottom left corner, it forces the viewer to confront the common usage of 'West'. The written extracts, meanwhile, predominantly from the African leg of the journey, give fascinating glimpses of a part of the world rarely present in travel literature.

Find out more about the new centre and what's on at

Tuesday, 2 September 2014

Final Year Begins

With the new term upon us already, the countdown begins: just one year until submission.

Writing for King's Arts and Humanities life blog over my first two years at KCL really helped me to keep track of progress. Now that I need it more than ever, the blog is no more, so I've determined to keep up the blogging here instead.

So what's going on?

Migrating Texts
Three workshops about subtitling, translation and adaptation at the Institute of Modern Languages Research. The three of us organising have been working on this for over a year now and not a week has gone by without some emails, meetings or phonecalls related to it. It's amazing how a two-day event can take so much organising! We now have a website (, social media presence (@MigratingTexts), and most of our speakers booked (I do a happy dance in my bedroom upon confirmation). Still to do: finalising some funding, registration, hoping enough people will come to cover costs!

Sticking with the IMLR, arranging the 7 sessions for next year's graduate forum was spectacularly easy by contrast. I sent an email to various mailing lists asking for participants, got lots of interesting proposals, matched people with dates. As my favourite meerkat would say, simples. Find us on Facebook: IMLR Graduate Forum

Then there's what I should actually be working PhD. I now have a word document for every section of my dissertation, alrhough the conclusion at this point mainly reads:
(thanks to the @ThesisWhisperer)
I still haven't finished writing the section I had planned to have drafted by the beginning of June, but mainly because I keep finding new things to read (i belatedly discovered the Senate House treasure trove). I'm now flitting between rewriting/adding to my first section and drafting the second.

I'm also on a reading binge, working my way through my Sudaquia collection. I need to build up my Venezuelan literature website! As teaching begins next week, I'm alternating Venezuelan novels with Spanish travel writing, enjoying working on the peninsula again for the first time in years.

Most importantly, I've decorated my desk for inspiration. Hopefully my next blog will show that it has worked!

Monday, 7 July 2014

Posthumous Publication and Translation of José Saramgo's Skylight

The story behind José Saramago's Skylight (Claraboia) could grace the pages of one of his novels: a Nobel Prize winning author is reunited with a manuscript written in 1952 which had lain dormant in a publisher's draw after 36 years. As Saramago's wife Pilar del Rio explains in a touching prologue to this new English translation (released by Harvill Secker on 3 July 2014), the Portuguese Nobel Laureate was somewhat weary of this "lost novel" at the time, and refused for it to published until after his death. Although Saramago went on to have a glittering literary career in later life, hearing nothing back from the publisher about Claraboia deeply wounded his pride and it would take nearly two decades before he dared to write another novel. As a result, it was only following Saramago's death in June 2010 that Claraboia was published, and in that way became, as Pilar affirms, a gift from beyond the grave.

In her introduction, Pilar delights that so many germs of Saramago's later writing are already present in Skylight. As this is the first time I've read anything by him, I can't comment, but on the strength of this utterly absorbing character study, I certainly want to read a lot more.  Skylight is a portrait of the six families who occupy an apartment block in Lisbon, their loves, loneliness, fierce domestic battles and everyday struggles, all overheard and gossiped about by the neighbours. 

While the novel's setting is identifiably the 1950s, and the shadow of Salazar looms large, this ensemble cast are strikingly modern. Saramago does not shy away from the thoroughly taboo topics of his day, from lesbian love to domestic abuse. Given the glorification of the family as the cornerstone of the nation under Salazar, Saramago's unsentimental portrayal of many unhappy marriages (and one beautifully happy one) is particularly brave. His refusal to pander to the morals of his day is striking. Lucía may be a kept woman, but Saramago portrays her with great respect, as her behaviour puts that of those who call her a whore to shame. The bullying brute Caetano is put in his place by his long-suffering wife. It is this type of thinking, totally at odds with the conservative dictatorship of the time, which Pilar assumes intimidated the publishers at the time of submission and doomed this brilliant novel to the draw.

The autodidact Saramago's prose is a joy to read. He effortlessly peppers the day to day speech of the working class with erudite references to Beethoven, Shakespeare and Diderot, with a glimmer of pride at the knowledge of these great figures he acquired for himself. As many readers have already noted since the Portuguese version was published in 2011, this novel feels as alive and fresh as those he published just before his death. Thankfully, Harvill Secker have done justice to the original by entrusting the translation to the multi-award winning Margaret Jull Costa who always demonstrates that remarkable skill of making readers forget that they are reading a translation.

Readers familiar with Saramago's work will no doubt enjoy playing detective, hunting through Skylight for hints of later works. For those, like me, with no previous experience of this fantastic author, as both his first and last novel, Skylight seems the perfect initiation. 

Click here to buy the eBook from Amazon, or here for the hard copy.


Tuesday, 17 June 2014

Celebrating interdisciplinarity, collaboration and the digital

(Originally posted 1 June 2014)
In the past few weeks I’ve been lucky enough to participate in a range of events at King’s and beyond which have filled me with enthusiasm both for my own research and for the future of academia. These events have shown me the possibilities for collaborative research across disciplines, for making the most of the digital and for sharing learning beyond the classroom.
First up, on Friday 16 May, was Research with Reach, a full-day event organised by Ella Parry-Davies and Penny Newell from the Department English, which brought together postgraduate researchers from across the Arts and Humanities and a fascinating range of speakers from within and outside academia. The day was born from Ella and Penny’s desire to learn more about how to share knowledge beyond the academy while hopefully supplementing our incomes in the process! We gained useful insights into journalism, running public workshops, speaking at festivals like Hay, and making the most of blogging and social media. It was a particular pleasure to meet Prof Alan Read, the driving force behind the Inigo Rooms and the Anatomy Theatre, as I really admire how those spaces have been created to bring art and performance into the university and allow innovative ways of exhibiting research.
Then on Tuesday 20 May, the Union conference, run by my fellow Arts and Humanities Life blogger Naomi Lloyd-Jones and a very dedicated team of postgraduate researchers from across the departments. The aim of the conference was to explore and celebrate interdisciplinarity by giving new researchers – including many MA students who had never presented a conference paper before – the chance to share their research beyond the restrictive boundaries of academic departments and find connections. I really loved noting how research in philosophy, for example, linked with my research on nationalist cultural politics, while the very novel ‘paper as performance’ which ended the day not only impressed me but left me with concrete ideas for improving my own teaching practice. Explaining my thesis to non-experts proved to me that I really know my research and don’t have to hide behind long words, and the final lively workshop and debate session only reinforced my enthusiasm for sharing my research with wider audiences.
While the participants of Union enjoyed a tasty conference dinner, I headed off to Birkbeck Arts Week to celebrate the second birthday of Alluvium Journal, an open access, post-publication peer review journal of twenty-first century literary criticism. Having followed Alluvium and many of its editors/writers on Twitter for some time, I was very excited to meet them in person and to hear more about their pioneering developments in the production and dissemination of knowledge about literature. One particularly interesting case was Zara Dinnen’s use of Google docs to write papers collaboratively with friends and colleagues in other countries.
Overall, it was incredibly refreshing and inspiring – amidst all the doom and gloom that surrounds academia in the age of funding cuts and mounting bureaucracy – to meet like-minded people who are passionate about creating exciting new research and sharing it both beyond departmental borders and with the wider public.

K-Link Widening Participation Scheme

(Originally posted on 24 April 2014)
As a firm believer in the importance of widening access to Higher Education, I was very happy to be asked to take part in K-Link recently. K-Link is King’s widening participation programme, which gives children from less privileged schools throughout London a taste of university education. Through the programme, I had two – very different – opportunities to teach secondary school children.
Firstly, GCSE students from the three schools that the SPLAS department is partnered with came in to King’s for a full day: a Q&A with current students, a translation workshop, tour, and finally a taster seminar. One of the school groups – 16 boys and girls, plus two teachers – had an introduction from me to studying culture as part of a language degree. I began by explaining what a seminar is – ask lots of questions, try out new ideas, do lots of practical exercises. We then broke up into small groups and brainstormed definitions of culture, before looking at some Frida Kahlo paintings and an extract from a short story by the late great Gabriel García Márquez.
The students were clearly tired after such a demanding day, and many of the boys were too cool to show enthusiasm, so it was challenging to get them to participate, but I succeeded in the end (I’m very grateful for much needed help from their teachers in this). After the session, one teacher told me that although they were reluctant to speak, he could tell that they had gained a lot from it. He said he was really happy for the children to have had the chance to experience cultural studies when the demands of GCSEs allow no time for anything like this, which made all the effort worth it.
The following week I went into another of our partner schools. This time I was extremely lucky to be teaching four of the most gifted, enthusiastic girls I could hope for. We covered similar material but the small group size and eagerness of the pupils meant we could go much more in-depth. I was hugely impressed, as they were more engaged than some of my final year students! I felt privileged to teach them and really pleased to learn that they all plan to continue to language study at university.


(Originally posted on 10 April 2014)
As I mentioned in my last post, it seems like for as long as I’ve been at King’s, I’ve been “preparing for my upgrade”. Now, after 18 months, I have survived the process and am finally a fully-fledged PhD candidate.
I really had no idea what to expect from the upgrade meeting. I had spent the day before rereading the 20,000 word chapter that I had handed in for examination back in February, assuming that I would be quizzed on it. As it turned out, I wasn’t expected to say much at all in the meeting. Instead, it was a chance for the examiners, especially my secondary supervisor who had not previously commented on my work, to share their comments, queries and advice. While my two supervisors work on literary/cultural studies like myself, my third examiner was from political science, so she brought an interesting alternative viewpoint to the discussion.
My supervisor insisted that it went really well and that all three examiners had been impressed with my chapter, but I must admit that at the time I was just completely overwhelmed by the amount that I still have to think about. The wealth of further reading recommended by the examiners, and their suggestions on how to expand or refine sections of the chapter will surely prove invaluable in the long-run, helping me to make my thesis better. However, at the time I just wanted to run away and hide from it all. Only now, two weeks later, having finally completed the paperwork, that it has finally sunk in that I’ve passed. Now I can relax for the next 18 months (well, except for researching and writing and teaching and conferencing!) until submission, which I’m sure will come around all too quickly.

Putting It Together

(Originally posted on 23 February 2014)
Art isn’t easy
Every minor detail is a major decision.
Having just the vision’s no solution,
Everything depends on execution.
The art of making art is putting it together.
Writing a PhD might not seem like ‘making art’, but while I grapple with the sprawling mass of knowledge I’ve accumulated over the last 18 months, Sondheim’s words are stuck in my head.
It seems that almost since I started my PhD I’ve been preparing for my upgrade. It was going to be after 9 months, then 12, then 18. It really is happening now, as soon as we can find a time when all three of my examiners are free (which is proving remarkably difficult). As part of the process, I had to write ‘a substantial piece of work’, which usually translates to about 10,000 words. I set myself the challenge over the Christmas holidays to turn the knowledge I’d amassed so far into a coherent contextualising chapter. It took many hours of puzzling over spider diagrams and discussing with my supervisor before the lightbulb moment when I suddenly realised how it all fits together. It turned out I had far more to say than I thought and the chapter ended up at 20,000.
With that done, all I had left to prepare was an outline of my thesis. It was only one page yet I almost found it harder than the 60 I’d written over the holidays. I had been planning to write a chapter about each novel in my corpus but it soon became apparent that this wouldn’t work, or maybe it would, but a thematic approach would make a far better thesis. Having worked out a plan with the main themes arising from the novels, I took it to my supervisor who promptly suggested that I lose the whole first section  and concentrate entirely on the second.  While I know that she is right, it will make a much tighter, more coherent thesis, and I’m excited to be working on this one theme (metafiction and intertextuality in contemporary Venezuelan novels), I can’t deny that I felt a brief mourning period for the topics that I first came in to the PhD with (reactions to nationalism and socialism in fiction). I know I’m not alone – another girl in my department scrapped half of the material that she had planned to include in her thesis at the halfway point too. Part of the PhD process seems to be accepting limitations and evaluating how to do the best research in the time-frame allowed. I keep reminding myself too that the work I’ve done so far isn’t lost or worthless by any means. Hopefully once I finally get this upgrade out of the way, I can turn that earlier work into an article to publish. In the meantime, it feels great to finally have an outline of my thesis on paper and start to envision the finished product in the not-so-distant future.