Split Mag Issue One

Sociology zine
ISSUE ONE

Editors
Yasmin Gunaratnam
Tennessee Woodiel
Ashley Carter
Oluwatoyin Sonubi
Design
Ashley Carter
Sonia Turcotte
Email
splitmaginfo@gmail.com
Instagram
@split_mag
Twitter
@magsplit
Cover
Celeste Williams
‘Reflective Cultural Dissociation’

CONTENTS
1-4
Selfridges’ Skate Park
5-6
zero-hours contract
7-8
Frida Kahlo
9-10
The Last Leg
11-12
Flags & Space
13-14
The Space Between Us
15-16
Passages
17-18
Cities on Screen
19-20
Sounds of the street
21-22
Save Tidemill !
23-24
Writing to Fight
25-28
Time to wake up
29
Yellow
30
Interview with dr.coleman

Selfridges’ Skate Park – No Thanks
Leon-Piers Scott
I have been a skateboarder for 18
years, or about two-thirds of my
life. I have always been interested in
skateboarding as a subculture and also
as a business. It was with this interest
in the crossover between subculture
and business that I decided recently
to visit the ‘Skate Bowl’ in the Selfridges
store on Oxford Street.
I approached the store at around
6pm, marvelling at the juxtaposition
between the people who are
shopping - and quite clearly enjoying
themselves - and those who cannot
wait to get home after a long day at
the office. The first window display
I encountered was an immediate reminder
that youth subculture will
never be safe from the grip of high
fashion, with a Gucci denim jacket and
a Balmain leather jacket interspersed
amongst what looked like a punk rock
nativity scene.
Inside the store I was greeted by a
gaudy Gucci concession to my right
and a walkway filled with eager consumers.
I was immediately aware that
I looked very underdressed compared
to the rest of the customers, most
of whom were wearing smart winter
coats and what looked to be brand
new, expensive, carefully considered
ensembles. But I found some comfort
in knowing that I would be among
1
other skateboarders soon enough.
As I got off the escalator at the first
floor, I was confronted with a large
sign ‘MENSWEAR’. In the corner of
the shop floor was a large structure
made from perspex and wood and I
could faintly hear the oh-so familiar
sound of skateboards grinding and
slapping against wooden ramps and
metal coping. The sound was largely
overpowered by a grime track called
BMT by an artist called Fredo (Field
Recording can be listened to here -
https://soundcloud.com/leonpscott/
grime-track-selfridges). I crossed the
shop floor cautiously so as to not
damage or snag any of the Stone Island
coats or the Balenciaga tee shirts
with the pen that was sticking out of
the bottom corner of my tote bag.
And I arrived at the skatepark.
Outside the ramp complex was a man
carrying a clipboard and wearing a
name badge, his name was Nathan. I
asked him if I could go inside and take
some photos for a project I am working
on. He advised me that I could
take photos from outside but I would
have to contact Selfridges press team
or book online for one of the largely
booked up sessions to actually skate
the bowl, if I wanted to take photos
from inside. I asked him about the
booking process and he explained that

sessions are largely booked up for the
coming weeks but spaces free up all
the time and that you are supposed
to book in based on your ability level.
I thanked him and took photographs
from the outside. I realised that I
had felt a bit excluded, having been
a skateboarder for 18 years, this was
the first time I had ever been refused
entry to a skatepark that other people
were using.
I went to Selfridges not simply to
complain about it - and the masses of
other brands - using skateboarding as
a marketing tool. Even though I still
adorn my skateboard with ‘DON’T
DO IT’ stickers, in opposition to Nike’s
skateboarding footwear range and
wear the Cardiff Skateboard Clubs,
‘FUCK CHAIN STORE SKATE SHOPS’
tee shirt. The main reason I visited
the Selfridges skate park was to try
to further explore the tension that
whilst skateboarding is used as a marketing
ploy by commerical buisnesses,
now more than ever, is it also marketed
as an inclusive culture.
The location of the Skate Bowl in the
menswear section is significant. There
was literature availble on the side of
the bowl stating that a professional
woman skateboarder named Sam
Bruce played a part in the otherwise
all-male team that helped bring the
bowl to Selfridges. But there was no
real indication that girls and young
women were welcome to come and
skate. Some may say that it is a given
that girls are welcome and I would
agree with that—if the bowl was on a
floor that was more ambiguous in its
gendering.
This locating of the bowl in menswear
supports my feeling that there is little
to no interest in the female— or
trans—skateboarders with regards to
high fashion and the mass media, even
though there are plenty of girls and
women that skate or who are interested
in skateboarding. Burberry and
Louis Vuitton are not calling the biggest
women’s names in skateboarding
and asking them to model for
them, as they are with professional
male skateboarders Ben Nordberg and
Alex Olsen. Selfridges is not calling
Sam Bruce and asking her to open a
skatepark in the womenswear sec-
2

tion. This says to me that the companies
that are using skateboarding as
a marketing device, use it to convey a
watered down, rather normative idea
of masculine rebellion. Because let’s
face it, when considering ‘urban’ subcultures,
skateboarding is effectively
the least rebellious, when compared
to graffiti, grime, punk, street motocross
and the like.
As I came back down the escalator
to leave the store I was confronted
again with the bright pink Gucci concession
that sits directly beneath the
skatepark. I felt a certain humorous
absurdity that our subculture had
somehow ended up on top of Gucci
in Selfridges on Oxford Street. I was
also left thinking about the young
skateboarders whose parents may
take them to Selfridges over the
Christmas break or the coming weekends.
I thought about the possibility
of a young girl that would have to
battle through a labyrinth of men’s
coats that are worth two thousand
pounds, to a soundtrack of testosterone
fuelled music on her way to the
bowl. I wondered if that would be her
understanding of what skateboarding
is until she decides that it’s not for
her. If that young skateboarder is a
boy, will he get involved because of
the machine of mainstream fashion
- as opposed to what I feel are the
‘honest’ reasons me and my friends
got into it as kids? And will he eventually
give up when it falls back out
of fashion? If that young skateboarder
doesn’t conform to heteronormative
or gender stereotypes will the
promotion of skateboarding in such a
masculine environment alienate him,
her or them?
3

For me, and for the scene I grew up in,
skateboarding was about community
and friendship. It was about inclusivity
and looking out for one, respecting
differences of gender, sexuality and
race. I am aware this is not always
the case for the wider skateboarding
scene as there are serious problems
with gay and trans skateboarders
feeling as though they are not able
to come out. Skateboard companies
still peddle boards with graphics and
slogans that are offensive to many
people, and girls that are learning to
skate still get heckled at skateparks.
But, we are also seeing more social
progress than ever before. Women
are getting more coverage in the
skateboarding media. The skateboarding
world cup—which is one of the
biggest stages in skateboarding—has
equal prize funds for men and women
and other competitions are following
suit. There have been more women
inductees into the skateboarding hall
of fame in the last three years and
Brian Anderson who is one of the biggest
names in skateboarding came out
as gay in 2016. He has since started
a LGBTQ+ activism zine ‘Cave Homo’,
which has received a largely positive
response from within the skateboarding
community. And finally, the number
of young girls that are taking to
skateboarding is higher than ever.
The recent ‘mainstreaming’ of skateboarding
is not an inherently bad thing.
If more people are getting into skateboarding,
the skateboarding world
will welcome them and it will keep
skate stores open across the world.
However, if more people are getting
into skateboarding through representations
of it in the mass media
and in fashion, these industries have
a responsibility to market it in such a
way that is inclusive to all genders,
all sexualitys and all races. At present,
it seems that when skateboarding
is used for marketing purposes by
those who aren’t skateboarders, it is
only represented in a way that gives
a very one dimensional—white masculine—image
of the scene I love.
Leon-Piers Scott is a 28 year old first
year BA Sociology student from Bristol
with a background in skateboarding,
electronic music and digital marketing.
4

5
The injustice of the zero-hours contract
Picture this. You’re young, fresh out
of school, wondering what kind of
job you should take. You want to
earn your keep, you need an income.
What’s the easiest way? What about
a job that’s flexible, one where you
get to work whenever you want?
That seems fair, doesn’t it?
If that last sentence left a pit in
your stomach, that might be because
you’ve worked this sort of job, or you
know someone who has. We’re talking
about the zero-hours contract, where
your work is unstable and precarious.
It’s not an entirely new approach, having
been a staple practice in the retail
and health sectors for many years
– and the criticisms from that time,
such as unsteady pay and hours and a
lack of rights, are still relevant today.
But in recent years a spotlight has
been shone on the zero-hours contract
yet again, helped by the smartphone
era we live in. The zero-hours
contract powers services like Uber
and Deliveroo and is interwoven
into so many of our lives. You want
take-out? You order it on your phone
and someone whisks it to your address,
one of a crew of many, darting
around cities all over Britain. The new
argument for such contracts takes a
slightly different spin: this time round,
it’s that these jobs and the ability to
Luka Sotelo
choose the hours you need is actually
valuable. But valuable to whom?
Contemporary zero-hours contracts
force workers to declare themselves
as self-employed, acknowledging
their “employers” as something more
like an agent, putting you in contact
with clientele. This type of relationship
strips you of certain rights that
steady employment provides – your
right to sick pay, your right to regular
shifts. It also saves your “agent”
the cost of providing you access to
these basic rights. Whilst such companies
post profits off the back of these
contracts, their workers can fall into
debt, become ill because of the long
working hours, are required to provide
the means for their trade, and are
sometimes driven to the brink. Think
back to Jerome Rogers, the young man
from Croydon who took his own life
after spiralling into debt that he owed
to CitySprint and Camden Council, all
accrued whilst working his zero-hours
job.
If you don’t remember that case,
that’s understandable. I didn’t either.
We forget such things, perhaps because
we unconsciously subscribe to
a sense of inevitability with injustices
such as these. It’s a dog-eat-dog
world we’re told. And you either
survive being taken advantage of and

ise through the ranks, or you crash
under the waves. In his book ‘Injustice:
why social inequality persists,’ Danny
Dorling discusses this paradoxical acceptance
of injustice (along with other
forms of modern injustice) in more
detail.
We find ourselves trapped in sort of
zero-hour jobs because there’s such
a dearth of stable jobs. We become
indentured, Dorling argues, in a modern-day
form of slavery, one that
the working and under-class of Britain
finds themselves subjected to. In
layperson’s terms: even though we
know how bad these jobs are, many
still find themselves forced to take
them because it might be all we have.
The companies know it and so do
their workers. Dorling comments: “it
simply isn’t ‘economic,’ […] for people
not to be forced to undertake work
they would otherwise not choose to
do,” he continues, “the question of
economic expense [of paying a living
wage] is raised to make such a prospect
appear impossible, just as the
idea of paying slaves was once an
anathema.” “You’re your own boss!”
translates into you supplying your
own tools, taking unsteady work, all
whilst paying a cut of your wage back
to these companies for being your
agent. But critique it as we may, the
unfortunate truth remains: it’s sometimes
the only job some people have
left to take. Should we be grateful?
Luka Sotelo is a first-year BA Sociology
student at Goldsmiths, University of
London, having previously undertaken
studies at Birkbeck, University of London.
He is greatly interested in class
and queer theory in part due to being
a raging homosexual.
If this topic interests you should consider
reading:
Dorling, D. (2015) Injustice, revised ed.
Bristol: Policy Press.
Fleming, P. (2017) The Human Capital
Hoax: Work, Debt and Insecurity in
the Era of Uberization. Organization
Studies, 38(5), pp. 691-709.
Jones, R. (2018) ‘Debt collectors
held to account after traffic fines
claim a life’, The Guardian, 26th
May 2018. Available at:
Taylor, M., Neville, S., Inman, P. &
Waldram, H. (2013) ‘Zero hours Britain:
‘I didn’t know week to week what
I was going to get’’, The Guardian,
30th July 2013. Available at:
6

Frida Kahlo: Making Her Self Up review –
why do we want to look at her sleeping medication?
Abigail Joseph
Walking into the exhibition, I am
slightly overwhelmed by the sheer
number of people packed into one
space. There are groups of people
crowded around each artwork and, at
4’11”, I am feeling very short. We are
all here to see Kahlo’s artwork and
some of her personal possessions,
many of which are in the UK for the
first time ever.
I am stunned by the brightness of
the colours in her paintings. The reds,
blues, yellows, and browns. They are
so vivid. Seeing the paintings in person
is to see them almost come alive. I
walk through the exhibition, reading
about the life of the person who created
such beautiful works. In doing so,
it is clear that Kahlo experienced a lot
of pain in her life. Surviving polio as a
child and a bus accident at 18 which
left her with a permanent disability
and near-guaranteed infertility, the
wealth of Kahlo’s pain is highlighted in
the exhibition.
for her art, her politics, and the fearless
way in which she lived her life.
The way in which her image has been
commodified has transformed her to
an almost godlike status. Seeing her
make-up, her perfume, and her beautiful
handmade clothes goes some way
to reversing this. I see some brands I
recognise, such as Pond’s Cold Cream
and Chanel perfume, and I think about
Kahlo as a person with her own skincare
regimen like the rest of us.
Her corsets and prosthetic legs (she
often wore long and loose-fitting
skirts and dresses to cover both) sit
in transparent plastic boxes and you
are invited to peer closely at them.
Immediately, I am struck by the communist
symbol emblazoned on the
former and the vivid red of the boot
attached to the latter. I love Kahlo
7
However, at one point, I did feel rather
uncomfortable. I was peering inside
a box which contained Kahlo’s sleeping
medication and reading some attached
information about how she would beg

her doctors for extra pills so she
could get to sleep despite being in
pain. I wondered to myself whether
Kahlo would want something as personal
as the drugs she took each night
to be on display, with people paying
to gawp at them. This was also connected
to the way in which the V&A
seemed to skirt around Kahlo’s communism
with their information guides
in the exhibition. You could see for
yourself in her artwork and her corset,
among other possessions, that
she was a proud communist, but no
part of the exhibition mentioned this
in detail.
‘I felt that
seeing some of
kahlo’s more
personal items
was going too far’
Granted, it was amazing to view some
of her possessions, such as her beautiful
clothes, and gain valuable context
about the links to indigenous Mexican
traditions and the local seamstresses
who made her clothes for her, for example.
But I felt that seeing some of
Kahlo’s more personal items was going
too far. Kahlo is arguably one of the
most famous artists of our time, but
does this negate her right to privacy?
I felt like a voyeur and I wondered if
seeing all of Kahlo’s possessions truly
helped people to better understand
and more closely relate to Kahlo.
Nearing the end of my exhibition, I
overheard a group of women gathered
around a painting and talking about
how much they loved Kahlo because
of how ‘cool’ and ‘strong’ her eyebrows
were.
The exhibition frames Kahlo as a talented
body in pain, but does not appear
to consider the way in which it
constructs Kahlo as a body to be voyeuristically
dissected and consumed
by a public composed of people who
are either aware of that fact and try
to avoid doing so or those who avidly
participate, reducing Kahlo to the hairs
on her face.
Abigail Joseph is a third-year BA Sociology
student. Can be found watching
documentaries, reading from the
ever-increasing pile of books in her
room, or raving about the amazing vegan
prawn balls she had (far to many
times) in Denmark.
8

The Last Leg is a late night chat show
that has just begun its fifteenth series
on Channel Four. The show’s host
Adam Hills has described it as “three
guys with four legs talking about
the week”. It was first commissioned
to run alongside the London 2012
Paralympics but has now become a
topical comedy show.
On television, the images and storylines
we see of disabled people
are often those derived from a medical
model of disability. That is, the
idea that something is ‘wrong’ with
a person that must be cured or rehabilitated.
Disabled bodies can be a
site for pity, focusing only on disability.
Another popular trope is that of
the ‘supercrip’, a disabled person who
has triumphed over tragedy, to excel
in a particular area (often sport).
There can be an underlying narrative
to this trope, especially when a disabled
person does something inspirational—every
other disabled person is
expected to be able to do the same.
In 2005, Ofcom released a research
report on the representation of people
with disabilities on analogue terrestrial
television. It analysed around
800 programmes a year between
1993 and 2004 on the top four UK
terrestrial channels, and then five
from 1997. The report found that
9
The Last Leg
Jenny Stanlake
although at the time the estimated
percentage of the population with a
disability was between 14-19%, only
12% of programmes sampled in 2004
included disability representations,
with less than 1/100 characters in
the programmes being disabled. The
report concluded that the most common
disabilities were those most easily
recognised, including mobility; sensory
impairment; and disfigurement/
physical impairment, because as well
as being the most easily recognised,
they are also the most visible.
With these findings in mind, I’ve wondered
whether The Last Leg plays
plays into media stereotypes and
whether it has been able to positively
change representations of disabled
people.
In the first post-Paralympic show Hills
explained how he, and the two other
presenters Alex Brooker and Josh
Widdicombe first collaborated to talk
about disability sport, but that people
were wondering what the show was
going to be after the Paralympics. Hills
read out a viewer’s tweet ‘I couldn’t
work out if it was crip related or just
a new comedy show’. Hills responded
that it was a ‘new comedy show, but
it [would] cover crip related material’
(2013). This change of purpose and
the shift in focus from disability, also

demonstrated that the presenters’
are more than their disabilities. This
seems like a positive development.
In an interview on the BBC Radio 4
programme No Triumph No Tragedy in
2017, Adam Hills explained how for
his first thirteen years as a comedian
he did not disclose his disability because
he did not want to be known
only as the ‘disabled comedian’. His
work on the Last Leg has meant that
he doesn’t have to shy away from his
disability, it is part of his identity, but
he also doesn’t have to discuss it all
the time because it isn’t his only identity.
‘visible
disabilities
are not
the only
disabilities’
But are there other ways in which the
Last Leg is a radical change, not only
in its attitudes towards disability, but
in the forms of disability it portrays?
The Ofcom research report that I
mentioned is over 10 years old, yet
little on television seems to have
changed. Having been an avid viewer
of the Last Leg, I’ve been surprised
at the lack of representation of ‘invisible’
disabilities. This could be because
most Paralympic athletes have
a visible/physical disability, the only
classification to cater for invisible disabilities
is ‘intellectual impairments’.
However, we know that visible disabilities
are not the only disabilities, and
to only portray these on a television
show like the Last Leg, risks reducing
disability to the physical and visible.
For me, the representation of disability
is a constant battle, most recently
in terms of the super-crip trope. I
think more complex representations
are possible, where for example disability
doesn’t come to define a disabled
person and where there is a
greater diversity of representations of
disabilities.
Jenny Stanlake is a third year Sociology
student. Her interests lie in disability
studies, human rights and antisemitism.
After her Undergraduate
degree she hopes to do a Disability
Studies MA. Jenny is also this year’s
Accessibility and Inclusion (Disability)
student rep.
10

Flags & Space
Ashley Carter
@ac_creative
“A national flag has no real significance for peaceful uses.”
HG Wells
When you see a flag in a
public space, how do you
react? Does it depend on
the space? The flag itself?
In my photography and
sociological work, I’m
interested in how flags,
particularly the Union
Jack, are seen and
interpreted in different
spaces.
From train stations,
underground gigs, to
counter-protests, flags
communicate an idea or
concept which is drawn
from your own experience
and interpretations of what
it means.
11

Consider what are the social
functions of the use of the Union Jack
in Oxford Street or its use in Britain’s
First counter-protest?
What in both instances is the exact
same flag conveying to you?
When you next see a flag
in a public space,
consider what message is
it trying to convey?
Patriotism?
Nationalism?
Is it attempting
to convey values
or subvert them?
12

13
The Space Between Us
Bhima is a servant to Sera Dubash,
working to keep her plush Bombay
home clean, tidy and running like
clockwork. She wakes up every morning
in her sweltering slum dwellings,
unfolds her overworked creaking
body, and prepares to do the same
thing she did yesterday.
And the same thing she will do tomorrow.
Bhima takes herself down to
the dirty stream that acts as lavatory,
drinking water and bath for the
residents of the slum, and attempts
to alleviate the smell of her body.
A man sits watching a few metres
down stream and Bhima flushes from
the humiliation of this daily ritual.
Although done a thousand times, it
never fails to shame her. The walk
to Sera’s home is long and hot, every
inch of the journey imprinted on the
memory of her body.
Over 20 years, as Bhima has worked
tirelessly for Sera, the two have
forged a friendship. They know every
intimate detail of each other’s lives.
They have shared each other’s joys
and consoled each other. Their bond
built little by little, in Sera’s home
where, at meal times, Bhima must sit
on the floor to eat.
Thrity Umrigar’s beautiful novel, ‘The
Space Between Us’ brings to light the
Katie Spittle
small everyday injustices inflicted
on Bhima and the cumulative trauma
this causes her. By juxtaposing her
with Sera, her middle-class friend
and employer, the contrast in their
social positions serves to emphasise
the powerlessness of living in poverty
and the realities of different kinds of
illiteracy. Umrigar reminds us throughout
the novel of Bhima’s prematurely
aging body, her callous feet and the
air of damp in her skin, drawing our
attention to how poverty, inequality
and oppression leave their marks on
the physical body.
At the same time Bhima’s acceptance
of her own degradation, the symbolic
violence she is complicit with
throughout the book, illuminates the
dark and insidious effects of oppression
in one’s own life. It is a powerful
insight into the subjective and bodily
experience of inequality, so much so
that the space between individuals
can remain painfully unbridged even
in the longest and most intimate of
friendships.
The French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu
argues that ‘using material poverty as
the sole measure of all suffering keeps
us from seeing and understanding a
whole side of suffering characteristic
of the social order’. And here the
power of Bourdieu’s research on ‘so-

cial suffering’ is how he unmasks the
many, often taken for granted ways,
in which social inequalities devastate.
Because we often accept these they
become normalised. The experience is
difficult to think and talk about and
to research and measure. It cannot be
fully articulated because our systems
of language and representation are inadequate.
‘Sociology has
always
endeavoured
to call
attention to the
invisible and
unrepresented’
While sociology has contributed to
telling us about what social suffering
is, there is still a struggle to research
and represent it. Our only tool - it
would seem - is to bear witness to its
many and changing forms. But even
this has its limitations. The problem
the social sciences has with investigating,
recording and describing unconscious,
emotional and embodied
experiences is not new.
Sociology has always endeavoured
to call attention to the invisible and
unrepresented and those who are ignored
or marginalised in the process,
or as Sociologist Avery Gordon describes
it ‘making the previously unknown
known, telling new stories,
correcting the official records’.
There is of course much more to the
lived experience of inequality. But it is
perhaps in these latent and normalised
aspects that we stand to learn
the most from because they can disturb
and challenge our understanding
of banal everyday forms of power
and oppression. And yet, it is hard to
analyse an experience that is a spectre:
To feel something is not quite
right but not to be able to say what
it is. It is perhaps what dark matter is
to the physicist, there but frustratingly
illusive.
Katie Spittle finished her undergraduate
degree in Sociology in 2018 and is
now studying for her MSc in social research
methods here at Goldsmiths.
14

Passages
Dr Nirmal Puwar
Jean Mohr, an eminent photographer,
well known for his collaborations
with John Berger, passed away on 3rd
November 2018, after a long period of
illness, at the age of 93. Jean and his
wife Simone visited us at Goldsmiths,
alongside Miriam Said, to launch the
exhibition ‘Space and Gaze’ (September
2013 – July 2014) on 27th March
2014, curated by staff and students
from across the Sociology Department,
Methods Lab. The materials on
the wall, that brought us together,
consisted of text by Edward Said and
photographs from Jean Mohr, from
their classic book After the Last Sky:
Palestinian Lives (1986). They had chosen
to compile the book after Jean
Mohr was commissioned by the UN to
take photos of some of the key sites
in which Palestinians had lived. Because
the UN allowed only minimal text to
accompany the photographs, Said and
Mohr decided to work together on an
‘interplay’ in the book, as Said put it,
of Said’s personal account of Palestinian
suffering and exile and Mohr’s
photographs – ‘an unconventional,
hybrid, and fragmentary [form] of expression’
- which they called After the
Last Sky.
We installed the exhibition in the
Kingsway Corridor, a long passageway,
framed by a continuous line of
arches. Jean’s death reminds us of the
15
time he spent with us, his sharp eye,
warmth and modesty. The passageway
thronged with students, staff
from the university and beyond, who
had come to see, hear and be near
Jean. He quickly became the observer
as he snapped on his camera, turning
the lens on those around him, discussing
and looking at his photographs.
One of his photographs was of a
small girl taking a photo of Jean as he
was taking an image of her. To us, the
small group who worked on selecting
photos and text from After the
Last Sky (Annie Pfingst, Aisha Phoenix
, Sameh Sahel), this particular image
had special resonances, capturing Jean
in the act of looking.
Working against the grain of shortterm
exhibitions, the Methods Lab
chose to live and converse with the
images and texts for the longer duration
of an academic year, claiming
the space for an alternative writing on
the walls of the university. We had
put the exhibition together on a shoestring
budget. Aside from this public
launch event, our programme of associated
talks, screenings and lectures,
was open-ended. Events snowballed
as the exhibition took hold of the
passageway.
There were many interactions with
the exhibition. We started our events

off-site, at the Mosaic Rooms, a partnership
I and Mariam Motamedi Fraser
(as Co-Directors of the Methods Lab)
had built, with Mariam opening the
event for two doctoral students,
Dominika Blachnicka-Ciacek and Samah
Saleh, whose fieldwork was in
Palestine. A Sociology undergraduate
student, Palak Roa, involved in the
Student Palestinian Society, organised
another event with a news photographer
from Palestine. During the
course of the installation, Visiting Research
Fellow, Annie Pfingst screened
films from Shashat, www.shashat.org,
a women and cinema NGO in Palestine.
Sameh Saleh, whose research is
on women resisters in Palestine, gave
Angela Davis a guided tour of the exhibition
when she visited Goldsmiths
for her honorary degree. Davis chose
to prioritise her time on campus with
students.
It is interesting how visitors choose
to inhabit campus life. Mohr chose to
have a conversation rather than give
a public annual lecture for the Methods
Lab. Speaking of his position as a
photographer he has said: ‘If I see a
child drowning I can’t take a picture
of the scene. I can lend a hand or grab
a stick to remove the child.’
Biographical note: Jean Mohr is wellknown
for his many collaborations
with John Berger, including A Fortunate
Man (1967), Art & Revolution
(1969), A Seventh Man (1975), Another
Way of Telling (1995) and John by
Jean: fifty years of friendship (2014).
He has worked for numerous international
organisations (UNHCR, ILO,
JDC) and was ICRC delegate for the
Middle East 1949-1950.
Dr Nirmal Puwar is a Reader in the Sociology
Department.
16

Cities on Screen: The Garden
Sophie Porter
At the beginning of the academic
year, Emily Ballard and I set up ‘Cities
on Screen’, a film and discussion series
designed to showcase documentaries
that highlight issues pertinent to contemporary
urbanism. It is intended to
provoke discussion and awareness of
various strands of the urban social experience
and the different ways marginalised
people respond to structural
inequality.
On 25th October, we held our second
screening: Scott Hamilton Kennedy’s
The Garden. It tells the story of the
South Central Farmers, a community
of land-workers taking a stand against
the reclamation and redevelopment
of the largest community garden in
the US. Starting from the day the eviction
notice was posted on the gates
of the LA farm, the film follows the
duration of the community’s campaign
against the state to let them keep
the land. As it unfolds, a complexity
of corruption is unearthed, both
in the senate and amongst opposing
community groups, and rising tensions
amongst the farmers encroach on the
sanctity of the garden itself. The film
addresses some key elements of urban
inequality, particularly the precarious
relationship between public and
private space, and the ongoing effect
of embedded social hierarchies.
17
To the farmers, South Central represented
a large part of their identity.
Predominantly tilled by first and second
generation Latin American immigrants,
the farm provided a space of
continuity for the workers who used
skills they had honed before they emigrated
or that had been passed down
to them by family members. It also
supplied the community with a source
of fresh food, which otherwise would
have been inaccessible to them living
on low incomes in an impoverished
area of LA, as most of them were. A
particularly memorable moment was
when, trying to convey the relative
significance of the garden, one of the
famers, choking back tears, described
it as just as sacred to the community
as a temple or church.
‘Standing for
one’s right to
the city is
proving to be
a powerful
political move’

And, yet, the struggle continued. The
message of the eviction was summarised
well by one of the farmers in
the early days of their action: ‘the
land you are working is worth more
than you as a collective’. The land,
which had been designated for use
as a community garden in response
to the cultural oppressions embodied
by the 1992 LA riots, was now considered
to be too valuable to be wasted
on a project with no wider financial
gains; its community value accounted
for nothing. An opposing activist
group, Concerned Citizens of South
Central Los Angeles, who were directly
invested in the redevelopment
project, went as far as to reject the
collective’s claim to the community.
This action is indicative of the
entrenched prejudice experienced by
the Latinx farmers, not only at a political
level but also on the ground.
Even though the land was being used
wholly and fruitfully, the collective’s
claim to it – and by extension, to the
city – was deemed invalid. This is best
exemplified by the statement given
by the developer at the end of the
farmers’ campaign: ‘they should say
“this is a gracious country, thank you
very much for letting us have these
gardens”’.
In spite of the politics, marginalisation
and intimidation, the South Central
Farmers continued to fight, to mobilise
and stake a claim to the city.
Although their action was ultimately
unsuccessful, it is particularly significant
at a time when the community
intervention to save Old Tidemill Garden
in Deptford intensifies by the day.
In both instances, standing for one’s
right to the city is proving to be a
powerful political move.
Look out for more information on future
instalments of ‘Cities on Screen’
and follow us on Twitter at #CitiesOnScreen
Follow the progress of the Old Tidemill
Garden intervention on Twitter
@oldtidemillgrdn
Sophie Porter is the Department Rep
for Postgraduate Sociology and a parttime
MA Cities and Society student.
Her particular area of study is the
relationship between a commodified
housing market, homelessness and human
rights. She is the co-founder of
the ‘Cities on Screen’ series alongside
Emily Ballard.
18

“Peckham Rye Lane is alive with noise.
Nigerian music blares onto the street
from commercial spaces shared by
hairdressers, groceries and film and
music stores. Reggae keeps coffee
seller’s spirits warm in the biting cold
under the arches. Cars and lorries
rumbling by. Schoolgirls link arms and
sing as they walk. Outside Primark a
busker plays a Miles Davis riff bursting
into melody when coins are dropped.
Piercing sirens scream cars out of the
way. A South East Asian voice singing,
entices passers-by, ‘Come inside! Very
good price & quote! ’ Trains clattering
overhead drown out the soft American
music from a vintage shop/café…. Under
Peckham arch, a group of around
100 people wrapped in winter jackets
gather in front of Peckham’s, not yet
lit, Christmas tree. Family members,
friends, localresidents and passers-by
surround children from local primary
schools. A microphone crackles into
action and the amplifier now dominates
the soundscape.”
Does Durkheim’s (1915) view of rituals
as activities that encourage cohesion
in society through the worship
of particular values apply in 2016 at
a Christmas tree lighting ceremony
in a public space in Peckham? Here,
I present field notes from research I
did during the Practicing Urban
Ethnography course. Described as the
19
Sounds of the street
Mike Danby
‘frontline to gentrification’ by geographer
Suzanne Hall, Peckham has experienced
rapid urban transformation
and social polarisation. Population
density, diversity, transience, deprivation,
infant mortality childhood obesity
and health inequalities are all much
higher than the English or London average.
The area has received intense
media and academic attention and we
met many other university students
‘researching the area’. Through various
interactions I felt suspicion of our
group, walking the streets talking ‘sociologically’.
From these reflections
I developed an interest in music and
sound. I noted how the variety of encounters
with music in Peckham contributes
to how this diverse space is
experienced and negotiated.
‘the variety of encounters
with music in Peckham
contributes to how this
diverse space is
experienced and negotiated’
Fieldnote examples:
A teacher quietens chattering school
children, and the crowd quietens as
they start to sing… Silent Night… A
break in traffic brings a sudden con-

trast from the buzz of noise just
moments ago to the sudden unified
sound of the singing; both literally
and metaphorically a moment of harmony.
The Peckham Theatre is a charity organisation
engaging disadvantaged
young people in music and theatre.
A young black girl of about 11 starts
the first verse of the theatre’s anthem,
Labi Siffre’s ‘Something inside
so strong’. A song inspired by the anti-apartheid
struggle and a passionate
evocation of the search for inner
strength. The rest of the choir and
many of the crowd join in singing
‘The higher you build your barriers,
the taller I become, the further you
take my rights away, the
faster I will run’.
The last group who have remained
separate from the crowd for the
other performances, is the all-white,
group of young adults. An older member
introduces the group ‘We are the
first year choir from the Mountview
Academy of Theatre and Arts, we are
very much looking forward to joining
Peckham’s fantastic community with a
new school right here.’ The conductor
moves his arms, and the singing starts.
All eyes fixed on the conductor, his
upper body rocks and hands dance,
flicking through the movements of
the song. Faces contort as they accurately
hit notes; someone steps onto
tiptoes whilst pushing her body to
project her voice. The singers seem to
have become finely tuned instruments
controlled by the conductor.
Observing the different carol groups
round the tree was a powerful illustration
of the power of music to encourage
cohesion within a group but
also to differentiate the group from
others.
Peckham Theatre’s departure from
‘traditional’ Christmas songs brought
the community’s solidarity and struggles
to the forefront of the ceremony.
I enjoyed thinking with ears and beyond
words. Music has power and
force in so many aspects of everyday
life. It deserves more sociological attention.
Mike Danby graduated from Goldsmiths
with a BA in Sociology in 2017.
He now lives in Spain and
works as an English teacher and researcher.
He has been conducting primary
research about what
Brexit means to UK citizens living in
and around Granada—with a particular
focus on people under
the age of 35—and blogging about his
experience of moving to Spain, see
brexitbritsabroad.com/talking-brexitwith-18-35-year-old-uk-citizens-livingin-southern-spain/
20

Save Reginald ! Save Tidemill !
Anita Strasser
For the past year, I have been involved
in the Save Reginald! Save Tidemill!
campaign. The campaign is trying
to stop the destruction of Tidemill
Wildlife Garden and 16 flats in council-owned
Reginald House in Deptford.
Lewisham Council’s developers
Peabody have planning permission to
build 209 flats on this site, around
half of which will be at ‘London Affordable
Rent’ for new social tenants.
Campaigners are keen to have more
social housing, but at truly affordable
rents and without the destruction
of current community assets. Campaigners
are also concerned about air
pollution. Deptford has shown pollution
levels six times over the World
Health Organisation’s particle limits.
A Goldsmiths study has demonstrated
that Tidemill Garden mitigates air
pollution by half.
vacate the site by 24 October 2018.
Despite launching an appeal, the occupiers
were forcefully evicted by
over 100 bailiffs and security guards
on 29 October. Campaigners are not
giving up though; for them this green
community space and council homes
are too important to lose.
Campaigners asked for a community
collaborative design process after an
architect member of the group drew
up alternative plans that would spare
the garden and the council block. This
was dismissed out of hand. When instructed
to leave the garden by 29
August 2018, campaigners decided
to occupy it and launch a judicial review
which questions the legality of
the development. The application for
judicial review was rejected by the
court, and occupiers were told to
21
What I have found so inspiring about
this campaign, apart from the sheer
dedication and determination to fight
for more sustainable and fairer development,
is how campaigners and activists
have used their artistic skills.

They have created promotional material,
organised events and decorated
and equipped the garden, which has
helped to sustain hope and motivation
despite the enormity of their struggle.
They are creative and resourceful
activists who have built tree houses,
sheds, a functioning kitchen area and
store room during the occupation,
along with creating artworks, placards
and banners to raise awareness. They
have also used photography, video,
music, performance art, and other
media to support the campaign. The
garden has been a major source of
creativity and expression, as well as
a place of friendship, care and community.
As one campaigner remarked:
“Tidemill Garden is part of the cohesiveness
of Deptford”. It is also one of
the last remaining green spaces in the
area, providing locals with access to a
bit of wildlife, nature and calm in the
midst of a regeneration frenzy. Losing
it would have devastating effects on
the Deptford community.
‘Tidemill Garden
mitigates air
pollution by half’
As a local photographer and researcher,
whose PhD researches the
impact of gentrification on the local
working-class population, I have been
documenting the campaign, contributing
my images and texts to help promote
the campaign’s activities. I have
also launched the blog Deptford Is
Changing (www.deptfordischanging.
wordpress.com) to raise awareness
of campaigns, to highlight the impact
of gentrification on local people, and
to counter the stigmatising narratives
of protesters, campaigners and working-class
communities. The positive,
creative and energetic attitude of
people in Tidemill garden that believe
in a fairer society and more sustainable
future has really inspired me and
the garden has become an invaluable
green space for me too.
You can read more about the campaign
on Facebook: Save Reginald/
Save Tidemill.
Anita Strasser is an urban photographer/visual
sociologist based in Deptford.
She is currently in the 2nd year
of her AHRC-funded PhD in Visual
Sociology at Goldsmiths, studying
the gentrification of Deptford and
the impact this has on local residents.
She works in Academic Support at University
of the Arts London, supporting
students on the MA Photojournalism
and Documentary Photography.
22

Writing to Fight: An Exploration into Creative Practice,
Stigma and Mental Health
Vanessa Bray
Storytelling is a fundamental aspect
of the social world. Our representations
of lived experiences bridge the
gap between the personal and the
political, playing an important part in
amplifying voices often unheard. My
dissertation study was an account of
creative writing by mental health service
users, told through the prism of
my own experiences as a researcher,
actor and ‘survivor’ of the mental
health system. I focussed on the issue
of stigma, both internal and external,
which permeates every area
of an individual’s life and can be more
damaging than a mental health condition
itself. I wanted to investigate
the relationship between creativity,
particularly writing, and the attempts
individuals make to manage and
challenge stigma.
I began with a literature review of my
areas of interest, which at the beginning
were broad. I knew I was interested
in the processes and effects of
stigma, the changing social construction
of mental illness and the overlaps
between the arts and therapeutic
activity. The anecdotal evidence
that artists were more susceptible to
mental ill-health, or conversely that
those with poor mental health gravitated
towards the arts was something
that I hoped would be addressed.
23
Overall, I found that contemporary
studies on the links between well-being
and the arts tended to be from
a clinical or professional viewpoint.
I wanted to draw out marginalised
voices and stories as much as possible,
told in an individual’s own words. I
also wanted an outcome that reached
out beyond an academic text.
I devised a case study of the Dragon
Café, a community organisation
whose function is to empower those
with mental health issues through
arts-based activities. I am a member
of their creative writing group ‘Writing-Works’.
My research used mixed
qualitative methods: samples of writing,
semi-structured interviews, photographs
and artefacts such as leaflets,
table cloths, pens and coloured paper.
Concentrating on one group and one
material environment allowed me to
gather rich and detailed data. I attended
the groups weekly, taking notes on
discussions and writing pieces alongside
the participants. They had the
option to write about anything they
liked, stimulated by a weekly reading
of literature, or they could respond
to my suggestion to ‘write about writing’.
I asked more in-depth questions
about stigma during the interviews. I
had 13 participants - 10 pieces of writing
and 3 interviews. The photographs

and artefacts I collected with a view
to turning the whole data set into a
performance piece that I would present
as the practical element of my
dissertation.
‘I wanted to
investigate
the attempts
individuals
make to
manage and
challenge stigma’
After 3 months of fieldwork, I did a
narrative analysis of the transcribed
pieces of writing and interview texts.
How writing had helped people ‘face
up to the difficulties in life’ came
through in several ways, as did various
ways of coping with stigma, from
hiding a condition to claiming the
“label of artist” as opposed to that
of “service user” (quotes from participants).
I collated extracts that
illuminated these themes and wove
them into a theatrical script which I
then learnt and performed. My previous
years as a theatre actor came in
handy! I staged the production using a
chair, table (with spotty table cloth)
and stationary as close to that of the
Dragon Café as I could manage. The
photographs I had taken of the individual
handwriting of the participants
and the signs that furnished the space
I projected behind me onto a screen.
The piece was performed at Goldsmiths
and at the Dragon Café. Encouraged
by the feedback, I have
found that the piece has started a
conversation about mental health
and stigma amongst students and
Dragon Café patrons alike. In the
words of one of the participants:
“Why do we write
we write to fight
we write to break the dismal night.”
Vanessa Bray graduated from the MA
Visual Sociology programme in 2018.
She has undergraduate degrees in
Acting and Combined Social Science
and has worked as an Actor and a
Mental Health Service User
Consultant and Trainer.
24

‘Time to wake up’:
Collaging responses to neighbourhood change
The table inside the white cube in
Peckham Levels is piled high with materials:
fabrics, cardboard, magazines,
coloured paper, glitter paint, scissors,
glue, lipsticks, false lashes, fake nails,
nail polishes and weave. The Year
Nine students from a local secondary
school file into the room. They are
here as part of their textile lesson.
The installation #Hairytage, curated
by artist and designer Alix Bizet, is being
transformed over the week by the
students – each workshop adding to
the conversation and leaving its trace.
Held against a background of illustrations
by Ben Nugent, the photography
of A-Level student Ria Addison Gayle
and Autograph’s Exhibition in a Box,
the workshops are a space for the
students to tell stories and engage in
the interwoven debates around their
neighbourhood, gentrification, politics
of Black hair, ideals of beauty and representations
of people of colour.
Louise Rondel
The installation and workshops, part
of the school’s Black History Month
programme, were held in a former multi-storey
carpark now converted into
cafés, bars, galleries and co-working
spaces in a neighbourhood undergoing
rapid and co-constitutive physical and
demographic changes. Living in, going
to school and passing through the
area, the students are acutely aware
of these changes and how it impacts
on them. As one student described
‘more posh things are coming in’. She
is perhaps thinking about the new coffee
shops or places to eat opening
along the high street or the fashionable
hair salons which have appeared
– described by a colleague as ‘the harbinger
of gentrification’. An unverified
rumour of Morleys’ closure hangs
over the workshop. Emerging from
Saturday’s Debate Cake, during which
Year 12 and 13 students discussed
what they love about Peckham and
what it means to love a place, the
rumour is literally written onto the
gallery’s wall as part of the event’s
documentation. True or (more likely)
not, the concern amongst these 13
and 14 year olds that it might be true
is palpable.
25
Before we start crafting, we talk
about the ways in which bodies and
places shape or, indeed, make one an-

other. We talk about Peckham’s Afro
hair salons which are being closed
down and relocated to ‘the backside
of Peckham’ as part of a heritage project
to restore the station to its ‘Victorian
splendour’. I ask the students
to think about the hair and beauty
salons to which they might go, asking
why they go there, what they like
about the salon and what would it
mean for them, the other customers,
the hairdressers and beauty therapists
and the community if that salon was
to be closed. I ask them to think
about the message they might send
to the local council, the planners or
the developers.
lashes are carefully stuck on in perfect
arches, a splurge of blue glitter
paint makes a shimmering ocean, nail
polish is painted onto the page in ever
darkening shades to create a swatch.
At last, hands that have been itching
are able to move towards the materials;
cardboard is distributed, magazines
are opened, scissors hunted for
amongst piles of fabric and the distinctive
smell of nail polish fills the
room. Sitting round the craft table
is at once a shared and an individual
experience. Scissors, glue stick and
ideas are shared and passed between
neighbours and across the table. At
the same time, amongst the chatter,
crafting allows space for quiet reflection,
for concentration and for seeing
what happens through experimentation
with the materials: figuring out
how to stick fiddly false nails onto
cardboard; what does it feel like to
write with lipstick, how to attach a
strip of hair, do I even want to touch
it? The materials take over: false
26

As the students get caught up in the
tactile power of the materials, messages
emerge. Some relate to the
closure of shops and salons: ‘#leavepeckhamalone’,
‘don’t let them close
down the beauty shops’ ‘don’t close
Peckham Rye salons’, ‘time to wake
up’. Some, with a spray of perfume
as a finishing touch, attest to the
transformative power held within
the salons. Another affirms that ‘my
beauty is black, #selflove’, a striking
and powerful message in a climate in
which the salon spaces where this is
most reinforced are being eviscerated.
With thanks to Alix Bizet and Clare
Stanhope for inviting me, and especially
to Year 9 textile class for your
imagination and engagement.
Louise Rondel is a PhD candidate in
the Department of Sociology, Goldsmiths.
Her research examines the
co-constitutive relationships between
bodies and cities and, in particular, she
explores London’s beauty industry,
following people and products to and
through the beauty salon. With an
emphasis on the vibrant materialities
of the industry, Louise is interested in
how a physical engagement with matter
can enliven our sociological imaginations.
27

28

yellow by Oluwatoyin Sonubi
days where I feel good about myself are far and few between
but when I do I always end
up in a park sitting then
lying on the green soft grass
I look to sun, bright and all
over. It is a star and as I
watch her warm and guide our
days I feel myself adopt her warmth and guidance as I find
my way to my bed I lie
down and stare at the moon the
moon like me adopts the sun’s
shine for the night. every night
and so do I. and as these
warm days and kindred nights
become closer closer they become
every day every night. and those brief
moments I feel not yellow
but blue, I remind myself that
once I felt like I swallowed a
star and the more I see the star
the easier blue days are to swallow
Oluwatoyin Sonubi is a third-year BA Media and Sociology student.
They are primarily interested in Arts and Culture, specifically identity
and community. They enjoyed journaling and poetry at school but
their passion for creative writing flourished at university.
29

Department Research Centres: The Methods Lab
Interview with Dr Rebecca Coleman – Co-Director of Methods Lab
What is Methods Lab?
Kat Jungnickel (the other Co-Director of
Methods Lab is a research centre within the Methods Lab) and I are keen to connect
the Methods Lab with what students
the Sociology Department. It was established
over ten years ago and aims to of visual sociology are interested in. One
draw together the wide range of people series we’re running this year is called
who work with methods in what we call ‘How to do sociology with...’ where we
live, sensory and inventive ways. This understanding
of methods sees the social objects, devices and atmospheres that we
will explore different materials, media,
worlds that we study as lively, dynamic work with. The first workshop is on glitter
and sensuous and therefore that methods
need to also be and do these things. endar for more details)—we’ll work with
(28th November - see the college cal-
Methods Lab provides spaces for people glitter to consider what it does, materially
to work collaboratively with sociologists and affectively. We will ask how we might
and other academics, and also artists, curators,
and other creative practitioners. these might do to sociological research.
cultivate methodologies with it, and what
This involves workshops, talks, screenings There will be further workshops in this
and exhibitions.
series later in the year. We’ll also have
the Methods Lab Annual Lecture in May,
and some other workshops and seminars
as well.
What have you learnt about methods from
being in the department?
I’ve learnt a lot, both from being a
post-graduate student in the department
in 2000-2005 and more recently
as a member of staff. The department includes
many people - staff and students
- working with/on visual, sensory and digital
sociology and developing new ways of
approaching the social world in conjunction
with more traditional methods, such
as interviews and ethnography. One thing
I’m constantly thinking about then, is how
new approaches link or fit with these older
approaches. Another thing I’ve learnt is
that it is productive to reflect on methods
themselves - rather than seeing methods
as tools, it’s interesting and important
to make them the centre of our thinking
and analysis.
What are some of the things that the Methods
Lab will be doing this year?
In what ways has the Methods Lab enhanced
your sociological imagination?
Because the Methods Lab aims to provide
a platform for collaborative and interdisciplinary
work, it has made me reflect on
the boundaries of sociology, and what sociology
might learn from other disciplines
or creative practices. So in terms of the
sociological imagination, I try to ask myself
what is sociological about what the
Methods Lab is doing. Often, this means
asking about the similarities and differences
between various approaches - for example,
how does what artists or designers
do connect with what sociologists do?
What is distinctive about what sociologists
do?
Aliya Moobe is the second year of her BA
Sociology with Criminology.
30

CALENDAR
Here are some hand-picked events and activities which might interest you.
We implore you to research them and to also explore other events, activities,
screenings and exhibitions to keep you thinking. - split mag editorial
Activities
Revolutionary women film festival | 8TH DEC| brunei gallery
Feminist life drawing |dec 11th | the feminist library
GIFTLAND LATE NIGHT| Dec 13th |129 SHACKLEWELL LANE
LONDON ART FAIR 2019 | 15TH JAN
M.Y.O Peckham
The Good Life Centre
barbican conservatory | sundays only
Exhibtions
Hooked | Science Gallery London
Late at tate britain: truth |tate britain | 7th dec
sacred feminine: the art of the goddess | the british musuem | 8th dec
Stolen! how, when and whY? | royal academy of arts | 11th dec
Zine club x RISO induction | print collective | 17th dec
art is part of the equation | royal academy of arts | 22nd dec
egon schiele:death and the maiden | royal academy of arts | 18th jan

Goldsmiths Events
Dit Accompli: Non-Native Speakers in US Police Encounters | talk| Goldsmiths
rhb 300a |4-6pm | 5th dec
cITIES ON SCREEN: The Pruitt-Igoe Myth | screening | goldsmiths rhb137a | 6-8pm
| 6th dec
Liberalism as a Way of Life: on the Spiritual Exercises of John Rawls | talk |
deptford town hall 109 | 6-8pm | 10th dec
The Strange Case of Anneliese Kohlmann: Queer Desire in the Concentration
Camps | TALK | GOLDSMITHS RHB 137 | 5-7PM | 13th dec
Talks
THE PSYCHOLOGY OG POVERTY | 7TH DEC | UCL Division of Psychology & Language
ROXANE GAY IN CONVERSATION | 10TH DEC | ROYAL FESTIVAL HALL
Mass Consumption of Refashioned ClotheS | 9th jan| SOAS KHALILI LECTURE THE-
ATRE
Lawrence of Arabia: Romantic, Orientalist, and Western Cultural | 19th dec |
the british academy
WAR |15TH JAN | NEW ACADEMIC BUILDING
Psychoanalysis and Feminism: Beauvoir, Irigaray, Kristeva, Butler |26th jan |
freud museum london
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Celeste Williams
‘Reflective Cultural Dissociation’