May 5 – June 6, 2022

March 3 – May 22, 2022

April 21 – May 18, 2022

April 1 – June 18, 2022

February 11 – May 22, 2022

March 25 – May 22, 2022

The film is 'marvellously imaginative' but 'flawed'

How a 'very simple story' became a number one TV hit

The goddesses who broke the rules of sex and power – and embodied our anxieties

Revealing the women composers who have been overlooked

The art and photography that depict Her Majesty reveal some interesting truths

Why 'a spirit of equal exchange' is essential in fashion

The bizarre 16th Century 'dance plague' that gripped French city Strasbourg

Top Gun: Maverick is better than the original

Is it possible to reboot our minds by living a more feral existence?

How the death of Paris student Malik Oussekine changed France forever

14 min read

The only known Black British man to have fought against fascism in the Spanish Civil War

“I am half Black, I grew up in the National Children’s Home and Orphanage. Fascism meant hunger and war”.

Of the countless people born in Oxfordshire, few lived such an incredible life as Charlie Hutchison. Born in 1918, Charlie became the only known Black British man to have fought against fascism in the Spanish Civil War. He was also among the first to travel to Spain, one of the youngest, and also one of the longest serving volunteers. His life-long hatred of fascism would bring him to participate in many key events in history, including the Battle of Cable Street, the Dunkirk Evacuation, the liberation of France and Italy. During WWII he also took part in the liberation of Belsen concentration camp. Charlie spent 10 years fighting a bloody crusade against various fascist movements throughout Europe. Once returning to Britain he married the love of his life and started a family, living the rest of his life as an activist involved in anti-apartheid, nuclear disarmament, and trade unionism.

Despite all his achievements, his life story had gone entirely unnoticed by Oxford historians until very recently. When the Oxford Spanish Civil War Memorial was unveiled in 2017, Charlie Hutchison was not recognised among the 31 known people with links to Oxfordshire to whom the memorial had been dedicated to. Despite being overlooked by professional historians, his achievements were eventually made public knowledge in 2019 thanks to a project by London school children.

Note: This article contains never-before published photographs of Charlie Hutchison, provided by Charlie Hutchison’s daughter Susan Lilian Small and published on the Museum of Oxford website with her permission.

9 min read

The origins of the folk traditions of May Day

Ancient origins

May Day, like most folklore customs, has its roots in the Dark Ages. The ancient Celts divided the year into four major festivals – Samhain (October 31st – November 1st), Imbolic (February 1st), Beltane (May 1st) and Lughnasadh (August 1st). Beltane, a Celtic word meaning ‘the fire (or fires) of Bel’ marked the beginning of summer for the Celts. The festival celebrated the coming of longer, lighter days, the rebirth and renewal of spring, and the hope for a plentiful harvest in the year ahead. Beltane is still celebrated throughout the UK today, though it is now better known as May 1st or May Day.

‘Heathenish vanity’ and pagan superstitions

The most well-known of Oxford’s May Day traditions is of course, Magdalen College’s choir singing Hymnus Eucharisticus from the top of Magdalen Tower at 6am to waiting crowds below. This tradition, however, has only been documented from about 1674 and marking May Day in Oxford goes back much further than that. More detail on Magdalen College’s role in the celebrations can be found on the Museum of Oxford blog here.

Pre-Christian traditions and pagan superstitions particularly relating to nature, still had a strong influence in the Middle Ages. The earliest accounts of Maytime celebrations mainly refer to ‘bringing in the May’ which is when people would go out into the fields and countryside to gather flowers and greenery to decorate their homes and other buildings. Green has long been associated with life and rebirth, which is embodied by The Green Man, an ancient pagan figure representing fertility and growth. A central figure in May Day celebrations throughout Northern and Central Europe, he is the male counterpart of the May Queen, and is often portrayed with acorns and hawthorn leaves, medieval symbols of fertility associated with spring.

If you look closely, the Green Man pops up all over Oxford and Oxfordshire, in churches, on college buildings and in street architecture. The Green Man features in churches as symbol of rebirth and resurrection, key ideas in Christianity, and serves as an example of how images from the ‘old religion’ were brought into medieval churches to tie them to the Christian faith.

“This is my Versailles,” Mike Gibson says as we stand in a backyard in Bishopville, South Carolina. He pauses for a moment, regarding this perfect site of precisely trimmed trees and geometric shrubs, and displays an abundance of pride. For me, this topiary garden is a wonderland. Standing in the shadows of a row of slinky, sensuous, and hulking trees, I feel a deep sense of letting go as the trees accept my admiration.

Five months ago, Gibson acquired the unique title of topiary artist-in-residence of the Pearl Fryar Topiary Garden, and as we stand there the 35-year-old exudes a sureness that he is exactly where he should be. But building something to last forever is difficult. Everything here is always a work in progress. Nothing is lost on Gibson: There is a dying juniper, and many of the beds need clearing. The longer he looks, the longer his to-do list grows.

You wonder how one man could have built all this. Yet one man did. Pearl Fryar began this journey back in 1980 after looking for a home near his job as an engineer for a Coca-Cola bottling factory. Fryar, who is Black, felt unwelcome in a white neighborhood near the plant (“Black people don’t keep up their yards,” he was told) and settled on a mostly Black residential street farther out in Lee County. It was there that he began his relentless pursuit of the little Garden of the Month lawn sign that a local garden club awarded to meticulously groomed yards in the neighborhood. Fryar would work 12-hour shifts at the factory and then labor through the night on his garden with the help of a floodlight, a double-blade gas-powered hedge trimmer, a wobbly ladder, and a jury-rigged hydraulic lift. He did this with no training or horticultural books. He simply listened to the trees, opening them up, allowing the sun to shine in.

In 1984 a small pom-pom topiary caught his eye at a local nursery. The garden center’s owner gave Fryar a three-minute pruning lesson and a throwaway juniper to practice on. Fryar planted it, cultivated it (with no fertilizer or pesticides), pruned it, and was hooked. Soon came another plant, then another, mostly whatever he could rescue from the nursery’s compost heap, unwanted or near-death plants that were given to him or sold to him cheap. Gibson estimates that 40 percent of the trees in the garden came from the trash.

Jan Fabre, an artist and choreographer who is well known in Belgium, received an 18-month suspended prison sentence from an Antwerp court today amid an investigation into claims of sexual harassment and indecent assault.

He was found guilty in six cases, including the one concerning assault, which involved an alleged French kiss. The artist has denied that this act and any other forms of harassment took place.

The Brussels Times reported that the suspended sentence—meaning he does not have to serve his sentence in a prison if he meets certain conditions—also strips Fabre of his civil rights for the next five years, preventing him from undertaking activities like voting in the country he has long called home.

In 2018, 20 people formerly affiliated with Fabre’s Troubleyn dance company alleged that the artist had sexually harassed employees. The accusations were made public in a letter to the culture magazine Rekto Verso. Eight signed the letter with their name, while the remaining 12 were mentioned anonymously.

According to the letter, Fabre would contact women with opportunities to dance for him. Then he would “approach the performer sexually.” The letter also accused Fabre of tricking people into sitting for erotic photographs. These actions allegedly became a “hidden currency” within the company, which at once point received around $1 million from the Flemish government annually.