Work

If you want to know what people think of a thing, then you have to look at the words they use for it. Travail may not be too bad in French, but travail in English isn't too good. The word we get from Latin, labour, (whether New or Old) has its merits as a noun in association – a labour of love, a labour of Hercules – except that it's also used as a punishment: hard labour. The adjective, though, laborious, conveys a clear feeling of tedium, of effort put in without any sense of achievement or fulfilment – but perhaps I shouldn't labour the point. German uses a word that comes originally from the Slav languages and is related to robot.
It may be, of course, that work derives its value from its purpose, from the spirit in which it is executed. George Herbert wrote that 'Who sweeps a room but for His sake / Makes that and the action fine.' A nice Latin pun equates work and prayer: Laborare est orare. But Philip Larkin strikes perhaps a more common chord with 'Why should I let the toad Work squat on my life?' [1]
The relationship between Work and Play is by no means as evenly balanced or as potentially fruitful as that between Ying and Yang. Illnesses are brought on by overwork, but people tend not to refer to overplay. Jack never seems to run the risk of becoming too interesting.
When I was young, I used to feel there was something awfully wrong in doing a job that was distinctly separate from the rest of one's life. I was such a little idealist and a prig that I secretly disapproved of (and felt sorry for) people whose work wasn't part of themselves, but only a means of acquiring the wherewithal to live the rest of life. Slowly but surely, I have come to revise that opinion.
This has been partly the result of observation, and partly the result of personal experience. My father's health was permanently undermined in the 1960s by the overtime required when the building society that employed him computerised its accounting systems. He was conscientious, but by no means a workaholic. (Workaholics don't count. Addictive personalities will always find something that functions as an addiction.) He simply had to do the job. For various reasons, too much was required of him, and he was not in a position where he could refuse.
In some cases, it is possible to refuse, to point to factory acts, to contracts that stipulate the permissible number of hours within a given period. This requires considerable strength of will, and often bloody-mindedness. It also requires a sense of self, because it is often clear that if you don't do the extra work, then someone else will have to. Moreover, if the work isn't done, then the everyday situation will deteriorate and stress-levels will increase all round. Standing up to that kind of practical and moral pressure requires conviction – the conviction that it is everyone's duty to preserve themselves, and that there is nothing wrong in doing that. If, in order to make it function, the system demands that everyone should work up to and beyond the point of endangering their health (mental, physical and emotional), then the sooner the system collapses, and is replaced with one that doesn't make such demands, the better. Papering over the cracks, putting your fingers, one by one, in the holes in the dyke – these are actions of folly and treachery towards your fellow workers.
Those who know me from my dramatic activities will realise that, in certain circumstances, I do not hesitate to make extreme and unreasonable demands on myself and others. The difference, as far as I am concerned, is that these demands are quite clearly finite. The end is in sight. The objective can be reached, the play rehearsed, the set painted, the show put on and the scenery dismantled and put back in store. Then you can have a rest.
Some kinds of work are like that – you build up to a presentation, a launch, a campaign, an appearance in court – then the pressure is released, and relaxation can take place. In theory, teaching at a university might be of that kind, but in practice the vacations are filled with meetings and conferences, the preparation of teaching materials, the organisation of visit days, the writing of papers, discussions of quality assurance, marketing strategies, research project bids, and then the merrygoround starts again, without your ever having had the chance to get off and go for a quick whatever it is you want or need. The same is true for secretarial staff, who barely have a gap between the end of the examinations flurry and the start of the admissions scramble. At least the old-fashioned Northern factory closed down completely for a fortnight and let everybody go away. But when the university tries to do something similar over Christmas and New Year there are protests from academic staff who cannot afford to be excluded from their work- place for that length of time during the vacation, which is their only opportunity to work without interruption.
Sometimes I wonder whether it wouldn't be better to stick to mediaeval traditions, and only have celibate teachers, who live in bare cells within the university enclave, eat in the refectory, and have no lives outside the halls of academe.
I freely confess that I have a bad conscience because I don't do enough. I can't ever do enough. There isn't a point where I can stop and be satisfied. I don't feel this is particularly healthy. I wouldn't mind some help in this matter. But I don't get it. I don't think anybody does. At any level. If you finish one task earlier than expected, the next one is already waiting for you. If you take longer than expected, it's because you're slow. You're not permitted a sense of satisfaction at the completion of anything, because the end of one thing only signifies the start of another.
Karl Kraus, in his vast drama about the First World War, The Last Days of Mankind, praises the English because they refuse to let anyone make them work longer than they want to. The Germans, by contrast, are incapable of separating work from life, and as a consequence devalue all their personal experience by making it a part of their employment. All the things that might be spiritual are thus associated with the material, and used as packaging to present the material as if it were spiritual, as if it did your soul good when you exceeded a production target.
I don't know if the nature of the English, as such, has changed – or whether Kraus only wanted to use us as a stick to beat the Germans. Or whether employment in the universities, like nursing, is such a wonderful experience that we should be paying the employers out of gratitude for the opportunity to enjoy it. I do know that my education has given me more than enough ways to fill my time fruitfully, without needing to have recourse to work for want of anything better to do. And I know that the work I have to do often prevents me from doing other things that would be much more worthwhile. Not only for me personally, but also for other people – such as my students, who would benefit from my broadened mind and extra attention.
Maybe, as Yeats suggested, you have to choose: 'Perfection of the Life, or of the Work' – But I think I'd rather have a good life than write a really great Committee Minute.

[1] I have to confess that I think Philip Larkin should be the new Poet Laureate, and the fact that he's dead doesn't strike me as a major objection, if you look at the history of the office. I understand there is a lady called Gladys in Leamington Spa who claims to be in constant spiritual contact with 'Our Phil', as she calls him, and whose ouija board pulsates almost daily with Verse from Beyond, though she does admit that 'he's gone very agricultural in his themes – every other word seems to be bullocks.'

Recollections of anti-revolutionary Roy Butterfield

The New Reporter of 11th January 1999 (Vol.16, No.9) made brief mention of an article, "Recollections of a pre-revolution", by John Roberts, the University's penultimate VC, which appeared in the Oxford Review of Education (March 1998). His recollections span the years 1977-85 and, in particular, cover a tumultuous period in the University's history within which a prior regime of modest but steady annual expansion was abruptly ended by a draconian reduction in Government funding. As Head of the Department of Civil Engineering at this time I inevitably became deeply involved in the pre- and post-revolutionary activities. This prompted me to read Professor Roberts' article, curious to see his view from, as it were, the other side of the barricades. My first problem with his account was a semantic one, in that I had always associated revolutions with the struggle, and sometimes triumph, of the masses against authority. He himself clarifies his use of 'pre- revolutionary ' by relating it to events in 1789. I was therefore, in his terms, an anti-revolutionary although, without doubt, also a member of his "wilder academic staff" category.
I found his account of these events extremely interesting but amazingly bland for someone so familiar with the passions which wracked the whole University at the time. During this period I was a Head of Department, Chairman of Staff Meeting and a member of Senate. What follows are my recollections of some of the key events at the time.
Everyone knew that serious cuts in government funding for universities were inevitable. In a pre-emptive skirmish, the VC commissioned an "Academic Goals" review which resulted in the demise of Theology, Russian and Italian. At about the same time, Departmental Heads were asked to submit plans for coping with 6%, 12% and 18% cuts in their budgets. Replies were generally along the lines of, 6% was possible, 12% very, very difficult and 18% just ridiculous ( they peaked later, I believe, at around 24%). When the true scale of the cuts became known (1980/81), Professor Roberts set up a 4-member Budgets and Developments Sub-Committee (B&D1) which produced, among other things, a plan to drastically reduce internal university budgets to accommodate them. The 'cuts' they proposed for the Academic budgetary groups are shown in the 2^nd column of the table. It is evident that Science and Engineering were to be 'protected' whereas Education and Arts were to go to the wall with cuts up to almost three times larger. The intended decimation of the Arts Faculty and Educational Studies caused great consternation, conversely, the Deans of Science and Engineering vigorously defended their privileged position. Swingeing cuts for Service activities, even more drastic than the Academic ones (averaging 17.0%) were also proposed. Numerous General Staff Meetings were held which often filled Physics A to overflowing, with people standing and sitting in the aisles. Accounts of these, the discussion, motions and resolutions passed can be found in Viewpoints (156-158) 21 January '82 – 18 February '82.

General Staff Meetings were, in those days, very different from today's rather anodyne gatherings announced by the VC when he wishes to communicate with his flock. They were usually called by, and on behalf of, University staff. The VC, Secretary and Registrar, members of B&D, etc. were invited to attend and answer questions. Historically, the Chair of Staff Meeting is elected by a ballot conducted by the Staff Consultative Group and either he/she, or the VC or a group of, I think, 10 staff can call a GSM to discuss a specific issue. (Incidentally SCG, with members recruited from all categories of University staff, still exists and is the body which appoints the Editorial Board of Viewpoint who, in turn, appoint its Editor.) SCG is unique in the University in that copies of its meeting minutes can go directly to the VC and Chair of Council. In the period which I am recounting SCG also communicated directly with Council representatives, had lunch quite regularly with Council members and, I remember, at the height of the tussle, a group of us visiting the Chairman of Council at his home. All these structures and opportunities to influence events still exist within the administrative structure of the University.
Returning to the main theme of this note. Things came to a head at the Senate meeting of 4th November 1981 at which the B&D1 cuts were to be 'approved'. The Senate room was packed and the whole University so concerned at the measures being driven through that well over 100 staff, carrying placards and banners lined the road in front of the Administration building. Running a gauntlet to get to a Senate meeting must surely have been a unique event in the history of the University. It is important to remember that, at the time, the University had not rejected compulsory redundancy as a means of balancing its budget, indeed the B&D 1 report strongly supported this. The atmosphere in Senate was electric. I recollect a contribution from a Professor in the Medical Faculty getting very short shrift when he was foolish enough to remark that he had never bothered to attend Senate previously but considered this to be a sufficiently important occasion for him to do so. In fact, there appeared to be a surprising number of first-time attendees from Boldrewood. The two sides of the debate were, as you might imagine, occupied by those justifying their smaller cuts and those deploring their excessive ones. The latter were also at pains to point out that hardly any opportunities were available to them to improve their financial position via external funding from industry etc., in contrast to Science and Engineering. The debate was fierce and emotional until, finally, a motion – "Senate considers that the University should not base its strategy for the eighties on the B&D report"- was proposed from the floor, seconded and a vote taken. This in itself was a significant event, tellers were appointed and voters actually exited the Senate Room to be counted, 'Ayes to the left' , 'Noes to the right'. The motion was carried 67-59; in my view, a turning point in the history of the University determined by only five votes. A second motion, to the effect that council should be asked to convene a more representative and expert body to produce an acceptable plan was narrowly defeated. Yes, all this happened in the University Senate Room in 1982 when Senators were mainly the unelected Professoriate, ex-officio HoDs (not Deans!) plus a small non-professorial staff contingent ( the NPS – later abolished).
Following this momentous event things moved quickly. The Deans of Science, Engineering and Medicine wrote to the VC (5 th November) expressing concern about the "unfortunate decision by Senate" whilst accepting that B&D should be expanded. Members of Council were written to individually to explain the Senate decision, to encourage them to reject compulsory redundancy as a strategy and to support an augmented B&D. In the event, Council did just this and the University agreed to reject compulsory redundancy other than " as a last resort" (this is still its position), B&D was enlarged and a revised schedule of budget cuts produced and approved (column 3 in the table). Their distribution was more equitable and the minor increase in average percentage offset a very small reduction in the average cut (to16.5%) in the Services budget.
That Council accepted the Senate recommendations so readily may cause some surprise today but, at that time, it was virtually unheard of for Council to oppose Senate. Debates in Senate were often quite excellent, not infrequently, the VC had a very rough ride and he therefore gradually developed the strategy of converting Council to his view as a means of overturning 'off message' Senate recommendations. Professor Roberts alludes to this in his article: "Laymen could, the VC learnt, save the University from their wilder academic staff, since sovereignty lay with Council". His successor, Gordon Higginson, perfected this strategy when he 'opened his innings' in Senate by reminding it that Council was the supreme financial and management body with Senate the supreme academic one. Of course, all academic decisions have financial implications and, as money became scarcer, so Senate's influence dwindled. This exacerbated the effect of the 'democratisation' of Senate following the Wilson Report which essentially replaced non-executive professors by elected members. This was a liberal measure which, unfortunately, resulted in the loss to Senate of many of those who knew the history of the University and its development, had time to study Senate papers thoroughly and had nothing to lose by confronting the 'front bench' when necessary. Younger staff, working under great pressure, concerned about job security and promotion prospects are much more likely to be at the mercy of 'management'.
Professor Roberts also remarks on his task of reporting annually to the Court of the University. Court was the large, lay, but sovereign, body of the University, appointed by Royal Charter and uniquely empowered to change its Statutes and Ordinances. It also served a court of last appeal. Its abolition was contrived by the University in 1994.
So, that is my account of the great debate in Senate, the events leading up to it and, I believe, the salvation of 'Arts' in this University. John Roberts saw it all rather differently. He claimed that: "Prudently the central financing body of the University proposed much fiercer differential cuts than it could get away with", surely an unfortunate phrase, " these, imposing losses of income (for some) 3x as heavy as those of more favoured victims, were rejected by Senate and Council alike". He claimed this to be a "tactical defeat" but a "strategic victory" – presumably such warlike epithets come naturally to him as an historian. I personally find it very hard to believe that, without the rebuff in Senate, the B&D1 cuts would have been withdrawn and the more equitable B&D2 solution offered. Perhaps it was all a charade and, providing the books could be balanced with around a 12% saving overall, it really was a strategic victory – for someone – at the expense of a great loss of goodwill and the waste of thousands of hours of staff time. Professor Roberts did, however, finally reject compulsory redundancy as a management tool, and approve an enlightened view of the then Registrar's task, his "explicit and implicit aim was to make the work of scholars easier not harder".

Nightmare on Um? Street S.Cared

Whenever I woke up, as a child, with a fevered brow and only just out of the clutches of the 'bogie man', my mother would issue forth soothing words.
Step by step, having checked under the bed and in the wardrobe, we would go back over the previous day and painstakingly put together a picture of events that had become distorted and unreal during the hours of sleep. It was an interpretation of dreams, albeit the 'Janet and John' version. So, unlike Abou Ben Adhem, I was prone to waking from a deep dream of pieces.
Over the years I have been revisited by these horror comic scenarios, among the worst, being faced with having Chris Tarrant as a brother-in- law, the ONS providing the statistical evidence necessary for me to plan my future and being trapped in a lift with Jill Dando and a bag of flour.....no, sorry, I pinched that last recurring episode from a colleague.
Most recently my tortured sub-conscious convinced me that I was residing in new halls of residence. I was plodding around the place with a dinner for one, searching for the right type of cooker while a storm was raging outside. It gets stranger still.
People kept coming in off the street, owing to the fact that the doors wouldn't lock. They harassed me constantly about the spiralling price of cappuccino and asked incessant questions about quality accommodation in the area. When they finally left me alone, my attention was drawn to something horrid and green oozing from the walls. Upon inspection I discovered that it wasn't ectoplasm, but cream of courgette soup.
The storm was still raging and suddenly the roof lifted off, exposing me to the unrelenting elements. There was only one thing for it. I'd have to take cover in the Staff Club.
I made my way along University Road which had become unrecognisable. The uniformity of the buildings was only briefly interrupted by the presence of a soup kitchen where staff were queuing for their daily sustenance.
A recently headhunted academic was wailing over the closure of the last refuge on campus, and pleaded for a handout from passers-by. “Who can get by on 30k these days”, he kept repeating to himself.
I investigated. Sure enough, a hastily pasted notice simply read STAFF CLUB SHUT, the edges blowing in the wind, (something most of us know about).
It was at this point I came to in the kind of state that would have had Freud chomping his cigar to a pulp. I cried out Mummy....mummy! But alas, no one came to help me put together an explanation. I guess this unresolved riddle would bother me if it was anywhere near believable. To be on the safe side though....don't fall asleep, cos that's when the real terror begins!

Nostra Culpa Infelix

In our eagerness to tell people about the managerial changes in catering which you can already taste in your food and feel in your pocket, we accidentally dropped a review of Earth and Sky which appears elsewhere in this issue and excised a sentence or too from the piece on G&S (almost as relaxing a combination as G&T). Here's the missing bit:
...their work still contains resonances that appeal to a modern audience. This is thanks largely to Gilbert, who was pretty much the Johnny Rotten of his day; Sullivan dealt with the notes, rocked the boat rather less, sold out to save his reputation, and got a knighthood that Gilbert never clinched.
Unlike so many other areas of the media, we assume our readers are worried when they don't understand things.

We have ways of making you laugh !

German Student Drama Festival Southampton University
Avenue Campus Lecture Theatre A

Saturday March 13th 7.30
Dürrenmatt Der Besuch der alten Dame
performed by students from Durham University
Monday March 15th 7.30
Nestroy Der Zerrissene
performed by students from Southampton University
Tuesday March 16th 7.30
Dürrenmatt Ein Engel kommt nach Babylon
performed by students from Bristol University
Wednesday March 17th 7.30
Nestroy Der Zerrissene
Thursday March 18th 7.30
Nestroy Der Zerrissene

Tickets £3. Or see two shows for £5! And for £7 you can see all three!!!
Contact Rebecca Kathro, 01703 592256, fax 01703 593288, e-mail rk@lang.soton.ac.uk

Learn through Play – 
Actually, learn through THREE plays!

This year, Southampton University is hosting the National German Student Drama Festival, which has been running for some twenty years and normally takes place in London, or at venues further north.
From March 13th to March 18th three full-length plays in German will be performed in the brand-new theatre at Southampton University's Avenue Campus in Highfield Road.
On Saturday 13th, students from Durham University will be racing down the motorway to put on Dürrenmatt's Der Besuch der alten Dame, The Old Lady's Visit, in which the Old Lady in question comes back as a grotesque millionairess to the town that threw her out as a young unmarried mother and executes a vast revenge, impoverishing all the inhabitants and demanding that they collectively kill her former lover. In the face of economic necessity, solidarity and morality inevitably collapse.
On Tuesday 16th, students from Bristol University, who don't have quite such a distance to rush, will be performing another play by Dürrenmatt, Ein Engel kommt nach Babylon, An Angel comes to Babylon, in which the Angel brings, as a gift from Heaven, a girl who is destined to belong to the lowest member of humanity. However, neither King Nebuchadnezzar, nor any other of the Babylonians, prove willing to sacrifice their material possessions and their status in order to enjoy Heaven's gift – that privilege is left to the beggar, Akki, who runs off with the girl, while the King, in defiance, builds the Tower of Babel.
The local product, performed by students from Southampton University on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday, 15th, 17th and 18th March, is an Austrian play (Dürrenmatt is Swiss) by Johann Nestroy, a Viennese comic actor and dramatist of the nineteenth century, whose plays still have them rolling in the aisles in Austria, and who provided the plot for Hallo, Dolly! Der Zerrissene, The Man Who Was Torn is all about a millionaire who is so weary with life that he can't make up his mind what to do – so, just for a change, he decides to marry the first woman who walks through the door. However, she's a woman with a past – and part of that past is an ironworker, in the millionaire's house, fixing a railing to the newly made balcony that overlooks the long drop to the lake. Of course, when he finds out... well, you can imagine what happens! Or maybe you can't – because that's only the first of the three acts!
All three plays are full of action and humour, which is very often visual as well as verbal, and they all have strong plots which, together with the full synopsis provided, make them easy to follow even for people with little or no German.

Lectures

More lectures to look out for; don't forget Sir Gordon on 28 April (Murray, 6pm), also Neil Kinnock on shipping policy, 18 March (Murray 5.30) and my ex-colleague Mark Weller on 27 April will no doubt dazzle with his 'Inorganic Materials' (but you should read the sub-title), Physics 5.30.

John Hansard Gallery

'Photorealism which is not content with merely imitating photographs, but aims to show that painting can achieve an even greater illusion of verisimilitude' ⁽¹⁾
-Susan Sontag
Postcards on Photography looks at the relationship between photography, painting and sculpture at a time when, because of technological advances in both art and society, painting and photography appear quite primitive or dead, even.
The mimicking of photography through painting known as photorealism was first popular in America around the late 1960s and 1970s. Postcards on Photography focuses on the new wave of British photorealists, but does not regect the past. The touring exhibition began at the Cambridge Darkroom Gallery, a small space dedicated, until now, to the display of painting and as a consequence, the concept of painting which emulates photography, displacing photography, does not have quite the same impact on the visitor. The John Hansard Gallery, does though, offer more space than Cambridge Darkroom, thus giving relief to the intense nature of the work.
The first image presented to the viewer is one of local artist Tim Craven's tractor paintings. This is inspired by his lifelong influence John Salt, who exhibits 'White Chevy, Red Trailer', 1975, in the main gallery. Craven has further drawings on display in the Turner Sims foyer, within the University.
On entering the main gallery one is confronted by Alex Hartley's over-sized slides 'Model for Archival Disaster', 1998, which spill out onto the gallery floor. These create an apparent disorder amidst much of the ordered work in the exhibition. Ironically the placement of the slides is probably as considered as that of the other images in the show. Slides are familliar to most artists, through their use in documenting work, but are also a tool used by many photorealists. Images on slide can be projected onto the canvas, traced and then filled in with paint. An alternative technique used by artists featured in the exhibition, such as Chuck Close and Jason Brooks, is known as the grid system. This involves translating square by square the information from a photographic source onto, for example, the canvas. this technique is most apparent in Close's self-portrait, of 1977. The quick process that photography is known and laved for, has been slowed down by the laborious task of translating from photograph to canvas. These hand-made photographs call for longer inspection, in order to appreciate the skill and time that has gone into their creation.
The education project, exhibited at the back of the gallery, extends the theme of art transposing imagery from one medium to another. A-level students from four Southampton colleges have made a series of video clips, which examine the subject of a number of paintings in the exhibition. Mark Fairnington's paintings, which represent the way in which the camera can capture and still the movement of insects, are interpreted in a video which follows the flight of a butterfly.
Whether Andrew Holmes' immaculate pencil drawing 'Crash', 1992, or Paul Winstanley's 'Night Office A', 1997, all the work in the show demonstrates incredible attention to detail. Photorealism has also been termed Hyperealism or Superealism. This perhaps refers to the colouring in many of the paintings. The images are celebrated for their realism, but the colour has frequently been heightened by the artists giving them and almost surreal, unnatural quality.
Postcards on photography has an interest in the claim that photography is dead and 'considers photography in it's absence' ⁽²⁾, Jason Brooks' painting 'Wreath', 1998, leaves a lasting memory of this idea. A memorial to photography's death captured in paint.

Charlotte Dew, BA History of Art, WSA
Mathew Weir, BA Painting, WSA

⁽¹⁾ Sontag, Susan, On Photography, Penguin Books, 1979, p95.

⁽²⁾ Salaman, Naomi and Simpson, Ronnie (ed), Postcards on Photography, Cambridge Darkroom Gallery, Cambridge, 1998, p7.

Reviews

Earth and Sky at the Nuffield Theatre Martin Hodges
While waiting for Earth and Sky to get under way last Monday night, I overheard the word minimalist uttered somewhere in the row immediately ahead of me. I suppose the set, comprising a couple of chairs, a table and low bed that could have been straight from a specialist supplier of orthopaedic equipment, may have given that impression.
The truth is, that this arrangement ensured clever use of the stage as the scenes switched effortlessly on a current of sound and effect. Whether it was the public library or Billy Hart's bar, the police precinct or Sara McKeon's apartment, we were drawn into events as the sharply lit action kept the eyes of the audience, and the plot, always on the move.
For anyone expecting Sam Janus to fulfil the 'babe' tag in this play; unlucky. Apart from inducing momentary palpitations as she lolled occasionally on the medically prescribed mattress, the woman we closely associate with current telly success, got down to the professional business of taking on the central character.
As librarian/poet, Sara McKeon, Sam Janus displayed a talent that reached up like a Chicago skyscraper. She sleuthed her way through the performance with a persuasive vulnerability, and demonstrations of feistiness guaranteed to rub any hard nosed hoodlum up the wrong way.
Yes, there were glimpses of the diffident smile we're all used to from Ruth in 'Babes in the Wood'. Yes, there was the inevitable seductive gaze that bewitched us in 'Imogen's Face'. But in Patrick Sandford's skilfully balanced direction of Douglas Post's thriller, she relied on the weight of a plain dress, curiosity fired by bookish intelligence, and a sense of loss, to win us over.
Joe McGann, as Detective H.E. Weber, looked and moved like a Chicago cop, although he was a little less convincing than his constantly nibbling sidekick, Al, played by Patrick Poletti.
McGann's cynicism served to keep the menace at bay, and he delivered the smart quips perfectly, with a deadpan innocence and innate Liverpudlian timing. The impression was, that the eldest of the McGann brothers was enjoying the gun wielding, cigarette smoking shenanigans in the dirty part of the 'windy city'. A world away from 'The Upper Hand'.
People reveal themselves slowly in Earth and Sky. For instance, Simon Slater's David Ames played a game of push-me-pull-you with our sensibilities before we were finally forced to come to terms with our shortcomings in the character judgement department. Eisenstadt and Gatz may sound like high street jewellers, but Alastair Danson and Michael Lloyd eventually proved to have enough cold in their hearts to warrant the issue of thermals to those on their hit list.
Larissa Murray had a surprise to spring and Laurel Lefkow's Marie had been on the downward spiral so long I'm surprised she could stand up.
Moody snatches of brassy jazz invited the audience into the darker recesses of the Uptown locations, and when the light shifted to where the action was, the redundant players, loitered and prowled in the shadows, their impassive faces caught occasionally in a half-glow.
If you're after well staged entertainment with a slice of TV glamour, this elemental production has the kind of star rating that bids you to ditch the remote control for the evening and get yourself along to the Nuffield before the 27th of February.

"MILLAN" in the Foyer of the Turner Sims Concert Hall

Thursday 11 February 1999
MILLAN are ROGER WATSON (melodeon, concertina) involved in English traditional music for 30 years as band leader, instrumental teacher and Artistic Director of TAPS (Traditional Arts Projects South); KIRANPAL SINGH (santoor maestro), childhood in Tanzania, studied in India, classical soloist of world-wide repute; VICTOR UNUKOVSKY (guitar) Murmansk-born, plays Jazz, composes, arranges, improvises; been here since early 90's; IQBAL KHAN PATHAN (tablas) from Uganda 20 years ago, plays percussion for classical soloists and at all kinds of functions; RAJAN SPOLIA (bass), about whom more in April Folk on Tap. Quoting the CD cover, "Millan began with a music swap, between Roger Watson and Kiranpal Singh. They found that lots of Roger's English and Celtic melodeon tunes sat well in the structures of Kiranpal's santoor ragas. A mixture of experiment, hard work and mutual interest led to the Millan sound, thanks to the involvement of other Asian and Western players".
We (me and Trevor) joined the audience of 100 people (including 50 children from three schools who were attending Millan's Workshops next morning). The carpeted stage was draped with a fringed rug and flanked by tall palms with the instruments gracefully placed. Knowing there were five musicians, we saw only two stools and were deeply curious about the beautiful carved wood santoor standing centre-stage on its tiny legs (its name means 100-stringed instrument we were told later). It looks like a miniature grand piano with no lid and all its strings showing, except that it's played with light-weight carved 'strikers' by either tapping the strings or running the 'strikers' up and down them with the heavenly sound of many thousands of tiny tinkling bells carried on the wind from very far away. Roger and Victor came in and sat on the stools and, after doffing footwear, Iqbal, Kiranpal and Rajan (in traditional dress) sat cross-legged on the stage between them. After saluting the audience, they went straight into a hand/foot-tapping 'reel'; first Victor's guitar, then Iqbal's rhythmical tabla(s); then we heard Kiranpal's 'strikers' waterfalling up and down the strings of the enchanted santoor, with Rajan's musical bass backing and finally Roger's melodeon slipping gently among the others, making the whole thing satisfyingly of-a-piece. I glanced sideways a couple of times, to see tapping of feet/fingers and slightly surprised delight on rows of young (and not so young) faces! Such a 'different' sound; totally unlike the plethora of 'pop' on the media. They were hooked! So were we!
Roger told us that Indian classical concerts are very (very) long and always start with a gentle, contemplative piece, which is not really appropriate here, so Millan start with something lively (and very much shorter). He also told us that Indian Ragas are in three parts; a slow 'air', then faster and finally fastest. The next piece was improvised round 'The Seeds of Love' melody in 14 beats, going into 12-beats, matching the double hornpipe rhythm of the tune 'Dusty Miller'; we all boggled slightly at the 14 beats and some of us tried to count – our respect for the musicians climbed! The santoor, bass, tablas and concertina played among the complex pulsing up and down of guitar music. Next was Roger's swinging melodeon and Victor's melody on guitar joined by tabla(s), bass and santoor; "lovely" I wrote. Roger and Kiranpal went offstage, Rajan put the bass down and picked up a second guitar joining Victor in wonderful virtuoso playing decorated by Iqbal's tabla(s); I can't describe the mind-grabbing completeness of the sound. With the other two back onstage, another raga, described on the CD as "melodic ideas on melodeon from the tune of 'The Rambling Sailor'" with the melodeon rising and falling through the santoor and the other instruments, finishing with a cheeky flourish. Interval – much fascinated talk among the audience, so intent on what struck them about the performance, they weren't finishing their drinks and had to hurry and sit down when the second half was announced. Tablas and santoor; I thought Kiranpal was tapping the instrument with fingers, but wasn't sure. Again, it sounded so together. 'A Rosebud in June' (6 beats) melody apparent (they aren't always) under the concertina treatment with santoor joining-in, then guitar and tablas; Rajan made an amazing sound sweeping the whole length of a bass string from bottom to top. Victor virtuoso 'jazzing' on guitar, joined by bass, concertina, tablas and finally santoor – audience tapping feet and fingers; everyone moving. Roger gave brief information about three pieces he was to play on melodeon, starting with a surprising slow air called 'Yesterday' (I think) and then a Morris tune, but I was so interested in the music, I didn't write down the name of the last piece. The next was announced as a late night raga (ragas have particular applications to times of day we were told). Millan wrote this one (16 beats). Loads of applause and "mores". Encore announced as based on 'The Queen of Hearts' (7 beats). While Kiranpal retuned the santoor with amazing economical expertise and the audience's respect climbed yet higher, Roger and Iqbal showed us an Indian clapping accompaniment saying we must on no account stop clapping because it was part of the performance. We didn't, although keeping going AND listening to the music was difficult! Victor's guitar sounded very Parisian with Russian gypsy overtones. That was it; we had to very reluctantly come down out of our musical trance and go home (clutching CD; we tried not to indulge, but...)!
Jane Allison

UNDER MILK WOOD, Portsmouth Arts Centre,

February 4th
Amdram Players Do It For Llareggub!
The modestly-named Humdrum Amdram society have been around for some time now and it was interesting to see them measure themselves against the famous Richard Burton recording of Dylan Thomas' radio play. The solemn, chant-like opening took a little getting used to while taking in the sparseness and oddity of the set, but it settled and worked. The cast were uniformly convincing in their roles, working well together as not only did they have to time all the lines precisely to make Dylan's complex script workb but move around in an intricate arrangement to enhance the constant shift of words and characters.
Some opportunities for lighting seemed to be lost, even allowing for the rudimentary facilities; for example the ghosts looked very healthy and rosycheeked to me! With such a small stage it was sometimes difficult to see who was talking from certain angles. A quiet floor surface would have helped with so much movement going on. However, with characters like the nicely understated Captain Cat holding the stage you can immerse yourself and forget the details.
It might be argued that this really is a radio play and works better without visuals. Can an amateur company make you forget the rich tones of Burton at the B.B.C.? If anyone can, Humdrum Amdram can.
(Reprinted with permission from Venue Magazine, a wide- ranging free local listings mag, obtainable at the Information Centre, The Swan Woolston and now at The Fo'c'sle).
Greg Watkins

"Here, There and Everywhere"

Exhibition of Romanian Photographs by Ruth Robinson, Library entrance hall

Before Christmas, there was an exhibition of photography in the Library, organised by the Romania Information Centre. Ruth Robinson is an aid worker working with street children and the rural poor in Romania, who has created a set of thirteen monochrome images taken during - but not as a part of - her work. Although the images have been made available to Romanian NGOs, it was a "personal" project: a "visual interpretation of the alternative aspect of the charity image".
There are familiar traditions linking aid work and photography: the Oxfam calendar, for example, or the work of Magnum photojournalists, e.g. Sebastiao Salgado's luminous testaments to hellish labour conditions in Brazil or India. The images in this exhibition invoke neither of these traditions, however. In one aspect they are reminiscent of the work of the Czech photographer Josef Koudelka; the traditionally-clad figures in sparse interiors or haunting the abandoned edges of the modern world could come from the great "Gypsies" book of the seventies. In another, they invoke the work of Paul Hill and the British "personal truths" movement (again, of the seventies and eighties); a rear view of a silhouetted uniformed figure, taken from a low viewpoint, the circle of his cap echoing the circle of a road-sign, a wispy trail of white cloud apparently emanating from one shoulder, could have come from the 1978 Creative Camera Yearbook.
The images are quirky, oblique; reflections of personal preoccupations and impressions rather than a journalist's commentary on Ceaucescu's legacy. People are often seen in silhouette, half-concealed, half-revealed; they peer through gaps or are wrapped up in bed, fully clothed. There is a dreamy, revelatory feel to many of them. One superb picture shows a backlit street kid riding the handrail of an escalator, his shaven head and baggy sleeveless top showing the profile of a Buddhist monk against the light. Another concentrates our attention on the hole in the elbow of a knitted sleeve, with the ostensible subject of the picture thrown out of focus. She often uses shallow depth of field to create a strong plane of interest at the edges of the picture frame.
The images feel quite dated, however, even nostalgic. The "whitewash and soot" graininess of fast black and white 35mm film is a look that can be recreated for aesthetic reasons, but is no longer technically necessary for even the riskiest photojournalism (people who know Chris Killip's street work are astonished to discover that he uses a 5x4 view camera, often hand held). Colour, too, has come to dominate progressive contemporary photography to the extent that the choice of monochrome is no longer neutral; it would be good to see further personal work by Ruth Robinson in the "colour documentary" mode typified by Martin Parr.
A further exhibition arranged by the Romania Information Centre is due later this year (by Nick Jukes).

THE GIN GAME

Until seeing the two stars of The Gin Game on stage at the Nuffield Theatre, my most vivid recollections of them had been firmly shaped by two specific television performances. Joss Ackland as the man battling with ill health and a life time's ambition to walk from Lands End to John O' Groats. Dorothy Tutin as the sharp minded friend of Joan Plowright's character in the more recently televised 'This Could Be the Last Time.'
The Gin Game was a different prospect altogether. D.L. Coburn's Pulitzer Prize winning play makes heavy demands of both actors in a two hander where collective talent and experience carries them through gloriously.
Ackland, who confessed in an interview for The Guardian, with Justina Hart in August of last year, that his favourite actor was himself, plays Weller Martin, a man who has tried and failed in business, tried and failed in marriage. His last remaining pocket of success, and consequently, hope, is a game of Gin. Until, that is, Fonsia Dorsey enters the equation.
In that same interview with Justina Hart, Ackland cited Michelle Pfeiffer as his favourite actress, but after this touring production, under the direction of Frith Banbury, he must be reconsidering that statement in favour of Dorothy Tutin. As Fonsia, she touches Weller's heart, riles him to the point of distraction, yet stimulates him and punishes him with the kind of bond only possible between two people of a certain age.
They commandeer the porch, where the card table is a welcome alternative from the visiting choirs, magicians and dance tutors that routinely entertain in what Weller calls, "a warehouse for the intellectually and emotionally dead." THE GIN GAME is touching and often humorous, and the laughter is generated smartly from Joss Ackland's irascibility and Dorothy Tutin's reactions. The hands of cards encourage a kind of friendship and provide a surefire vehicle for Weller and Fonsia to reveal some of the intimate details of their lives.
Both have secrets and regrets. Both are of sound mind, but they suffer the kind of physical problems that come with advancing years.
We are made aware that those small obsessions we accuse elderly people of harbouring, are very often the thin line between twilight and 'lights out'. These two people don't want to be in this dilapidated rest home, where the roof leaks and the patronising helpers stuff medication down their throats while referring to our medicine. They desperately want to be elsewhere. Yet reaching out to someone is tough for both of them. Love, in their lives, has always been conditional.
Chances are, that most people will have left the theatre, having recognised a good deal of Weller Martin and Fonsia Dorsey in their own aging relatives. His bad temper and frustration. Her superficial goodness and self righteousness. In short, the vulnerability and frailty that befalls us all.
A superb performance by two gifted actors, in a play straight off the top shelf. The Gin Game runs until Saturday 13th March. Deal yourself in for a treat.

O Tempura, O Mores!Alison Benson

Hardly a week passes without the canon of acronyms growing ever fuller. Now endemic in academia, the acronym is a sign of our times, essential to add gravitas, worth and indeed I suspect a certain amount of kudos to a research project.
In a more restrained era it never used to happen; corporate bodies, research bodies, special interest groups, conferences and working parties were quite content to spell out their full names. In the past the Welsh Soil Association (WSA) would have been unlikely to have been confused with Winchester School of Art (WSA). And we can only be thankful that the Association of Research Scientists in England did not share our appetite for the acronym. However much of a mouthful their longwinded titles now seem, at least their names actually meant something (apologies to literary theorists) to everyone and not just to those people already in with the in-crowd. Yes beside being mildly annoying, acronyms are exclusive terminology; a form of jargon often used to intimidate rather than elucidate. With current literature littered with ridiculous acronyms it's a shorthand I could well do without.
And yet all acronyms are not equally awful. Who could feel anything but sympathy for a scientist obliged to talk about silicon-on insulator metal oxide semiconductor field effect transistor? SOI-MOSFET is an acceptable short alternative and indeed in this case the acronym has now become a new word to describe a new object in itself, a most laudable use of an acronym. This acronym keeps to the unwritten rule, each letter of the acronym 'stands' for something. A new TLA (Three Letter Acronym) will become an accepted colloquialism quicker than you can ask an FAQ. Four letter acronyms are fine; I find RSVP incredibly useful when writing out party invitations. Five letter acronyms are an excellent way of economising on ink. I write SWALK on the back of all my correspondence unless it's a bill.
But can there be any more heinous crime than the acronym which is identical to an existing yet totally unrelated word? In these shameful cases someone has gone to great lengths to fit the function of their group around a silly utterly non-contextual word. I recently came across NEOLITHIC which unbelievably stands for: Networked Open Learning in the Information Centre. Can you work out where all the letters come from? Remember if you will, the sole purpose of the acronym, indeed its very reason for being, is to convey a cumbersome concept in compact characters. Are these acronymic offenders seeking quasi- scientific status or a funky-quirky-hey-we're-so-trendy-we-must-be-relevant-to-the-postmodern- society name? What's it all about? As a useful rule of thumb, the more uninteresting the group, the sillier the acronym that becomes their title, rather as though they are trying to compensate for spending so much time and energy on something that no-one else understands or cares two hoots about. Well some things are just too boring to become banal and mainstream, and some things can't be successfully reduced to an acronym. Today even academia wants to pretend to be dumb and having fun but it's OK to be intelligent. It's OK not to be chirpy and snappy and sexy and right-on and right here, right now. It's OK to be dull, dull is the new black. Respect to that.

LETTERS

Images, but not by Debussy
Dear Mike, According to the University "Bulletin" for February 15 "a working group has been set up ... to review the University's corporate image ...". Is it too much to hope that it might recommend sinking the dolphin flippant and restoring the hart trippant?
E. Keith Lloyd

Anon again: is England in Europe?
Dear Editor,
Thanks for your sympathy, which is much appreciated. I would like to reply to your reply if I may.
I am sorry but it does matter what you call things. It does matter what you call degrees. It really does matter. If a spade is called a spade it ought to be a spade. I am convinced that the “Oxbridge MA” phenomenon, which engendered the ire of my last letter, should be reformed in some way, like so much else, if only because I am unfortunately a rational human being. I really do think it is a “class-culture” issue too because “Oxbridge” is still dominated by “Public” School pupils (or, to use a more logical term, Private School pupils). On the subject of secondary education, England is perhaps the only country in Europe in which if parents want to guarantee a quality education for their child they have to pay through the nose for it. To me this is barbarism.
It really isn't fair that some duffer who went to Eton (believe me, I have met them) can just scrape an “Oxbridge” degree and automatically get an M.A., when someone who gets a decent degree anywhere else in England ends up with a B.A. or B.Sc. It's just a perpetuation of this ridiculous accent-obsessed class culture that England has. Thankfully it seems to be dying out. If, by convention, in every single other university in England an M.A. means one thing, why must it mean, by convention, something completely different at “Oxbridge”? I think tradition is a very good thing, but not when it makes no sense whatsoever.
I am thoroughly on the side of challenging the distinction between “Arts” and “Sciences”, and of making universities less specialised. Chaucer et al. no doubt have much to teach us today in this respect. It's just that whatever system is chosen, we ought to try and make it consistent.
My brother did a 3-year degree in Engineering (and nothing else at all) at Cambridge and now has an M.A. He certainly didn't study the wonderful mediaeval plethora of subjects that you described. I'm sure he wouldn't have minded. The “Oxbridge” system is not logical in its present form.
In many European countries you most usually go to your local university or a university that is good for your course. The hierarchical “hit parade” system of English universities that mirrors the U.S. system is to me a very regrettable set-up. Many other Europeans would not only find the “hit parade” silly, but would not actually comprehend it.
Is it really true that “Oxbridge did it all first”? Oxford and Cambridge were the first universities in England, and so in England they did “do it all first”. But the oldest university in Europe is in Bologna in Italy¹ , a country from which, let's not forget, much of European civilisation springs. I suspect that Bologna, for example, no longer awards the “mediaeval”-style qualifications that, as you so clearly explained, “Oxbridge”, for some reason, or perhaps for no reason, still does award. It would be interesting to find out.
In your reply you wrote that “the English Parliament really is a bit older, as an effective entity, than anyone else's”. Is that really true? What about that Icelandic parliament which is rather old? What about the Ancient Greek assemblies?² Were these not, in their own contexts, “effective entities”? I concede that it may well have been the first body that at least claimed in some abstract sense to represent the entirety of “the common people“, as opposed to elite groups. We should ask a mediaeval historian. England may possess “the Mother of Parliaments”, though to me this is rather dubious rhetoric. England certainly wasn't the first to come up with some form of the idea of democracy, which, like so much else, is an Ancient Greek word and an Ancient Greek invention.
As far as I am concerned, England has never been a true modern democracy, since it has never had proportional representation, which is that strange continental and Scandinavian thing in which votes actually count, as once upon a time John Cleese so wondrously explained.
Margaret Thatcher, for example, never received more than 43% of the UK vote. Her government did not carry out policies that conformed to the views of a majority of voters. Is that a true democracy? The answer, of course, is "No". I personally think that, in the case of Thatcher's 1979-1990 reign, this was rather unfortunate, since her government was by far the most right wing since 1945.
You wrote that "...it's not surprising it [the English Parliament] has traditional elements like the House of Lords still hanging on to it." No it's not surprising, it is more than that, in 1999 it is absolutely staggering and incredible. Some other European countries did have hereditary chambers in this century, but I am pretty sure that they all went before about 1950. Is England in a continent called Europe? I personally like to try and believe that it is.
Yours truly and respectfully,
Even more Anon.
[1] “Probably the oldest educational institution in the world is the University of Karueein, founded in AD 859 in Fez, Morocco. The University of Bologna was founded in 1088....”, ibidem. [The Athenian Academy and other ancient places of learning are, I assume, in the eyes of the wise Guinness brewers, not strictly “educational institutions.”].
[2] “The earliest known legislative assembly was a bicameral one in Erech, Iraq c.2800 BC. The oldest legislative body is the Althing of Iceland founded in AD 930....restored by Denmark to a...legislative status in 1874.” The Guinness Book of Records, 1983 edition.

An Editor is someone who always has to have the last word. A teacher is someone who is prepared to work hard in order to win an argument. A researcher is someone who has to look things up.

The nearest approach to a degree which is recognised and acknowledged throughout Europe (as far as I know) is a doctorate, whether it's called a Ph.D. (at the one I went to) or a D.Phil. (at the Other Place). French universities qualify people as Licencié(e) ès Lettres (Licensed to Use Letters – French ones, perhaps – but then, if we're talking about Licenced To Do Anything Else, it's worth remembering that in France 00 as a prefix is what you find on the door of the lavatory.) German and Austrian universities have no degree qualification before the Magister (and they, as you will notice, stick to the Latin terminology – at least we've got beyond that!). Arguments at the Althing were often settled by force of arms (see Egil's Saga) or at least the very visible threat of violence from a strong power-base (how unlike our own Senate!), and, as is evident from the note, the Althing ceased to have real power for a lot longer than the years during which the unrepresentative Father and Mother of All Parliaments did the Iron Lady's bidding. Padova certainly preserves all the picturesque mediaeval ceremonies, and I imagine Bologna displays a similar amount of sauce. The pecking order of Continental European universities indubitably exists, though it's probably slightly less devious and antiquated than in this country, but then they don't have an RAE. All in all, Anon's trouble in coming to grips with reality is easily diagnosed: s/he is a self- proclaimed rational human being. I rest my case.

Sincere Admiration
Much as I admire Alec Samuels (via your letters page) for his apparent endless devotion to public duty I am slightly mystified about his constant stream of consciousness. He appears to have been a regular correspondent ever since I have worked at the University (2 1/2 years) and yet I am still unsure as to what standpoint he writes from. Is he a student or a member of staff of some kind, or is he something more sinister, taking an interest as a local inhabitant, and more recently councillor? The `Private Eye' phrase that springs to mind is "I think we should be told".
Yours
Perplexed

PS If this is published I would prefer anonymity as I don't want Mr Samuels to bring the wrath of the Tory Party cascading down upon me, however diluted it is these days.

Some of us have been here a lot longer, and remember a lot more about AS. De canibus, nil nisi bonio. This is the response of a non- lawyer to whom we sent the above letter:
I'm so glad for Alec's sake that he has at least one admirer.
Alec Samuels is to Viewpoint what Keith Flett is to the Guardian. In between writing letters to us and the local evening Echo, he has found time to be a lecturer in the law dept., magistrate and local councillor for Bassett. There is probably more that I haven't heard about. His standpoint is his very own, of course.
The amazing thing is that in all the time I have known him - some 27 years now - he has never been wrong. Ask him yourself if you don't believe me.

Catering Prices
Sir, In response to the Catering article, Viewpoint 392. Mr Mohamed writes that "The Catering Department has become an island in a sea of change a consequence of which is loss of direction within the University." With all the upheaval with the University, isn't it good to have something unchanging, reliable & good value for money? Just to pick a couple of examples; there is just no comparison between, say, the scrawny half-filled sandwiches on offer at the Staff Club, and the fare available at Wendy's deli just around the corner. In my opinion, the beer (I'm talking about real ale) at the Staff Club has never been of a high standard (presumably they do not have a cellar) - the price was the only thing that made it palatable. At the Crown & Sceptre they currently serve a superb pint of Cheriton Best Bitter for £1.50, 20 pence cheaper than the cheapest real ale in the Arlott Bar. As for having to pay VAT on food at the Student Union, well that just about takes the biscuit (pun intended) especially as I am a paid-up associate member of the Union. One other matter; he was trying to compare prices with those at BHS et al. Well, the prices he has quoted are *not* those that the staff who work at BHS pay in *their* canteen. They're the price the *public* pay. We are NOT the public and I, for one, am sick of being treated as such.
I'm sorry, but if we're to tolerate increasing prices of staff facilities (NOT profit-making services) to match those of the 'real world', then when can we start expect staff wages to increase to those of the 'real world' accordingly?
Yours
Paul Bickmore Dept. of Mechanical Engineering

Training and Development

Dear Editor
I am always pleased to receive comments on staff development issues (Viewpoint 392), however I was disappointed that this particular “evaluation “ was anonymous. I have always encouraged colleagues to “own” what they think about our services, then we can work with them to achieve something positive.
I shall respond to the comments raised in this letter. To have 8 out of 67 events relevant to one person's job or personal development is not a bad achievement. The Training Programme aims to meet the needs of some 4, 500 staff right across the University – yes, from Professors to Porters! I accept there are some holes in our provision, which I am sure will be filled when the appraisal process gets into full operation and we receive training needs information in a more uniform way.
The 3 courses mentioned that are claimed as “too expensive for the department to fund” must be those organised by Computing Services who have to make a charge to cover their costs. It may be worth pointing out that each Budgetary Group has established a training budget from which the costs or a contribution to such courses can be made. To support localised development we are about to embark on a series of meetings with Heads of Budgetary Groups to encourage them to consider training developments with their Heads of Departments and put in bids for support from the Training and Development Unit – I.T. skills development should be part of such plans. Courses run and organised by the Training and Development Unit and Interactive Learning Centre are free of charge, paid for out of the Training and Development budget.
The majority of courses are run in term time. There is never a good time for everyone – and when we have run events out of term we have found them to be non-viable. However many of our courses run more than once a year and if any are highly oversubscribed, we aim to organise another as soon as possible to meet the demand.
Policy requires some colleagues to attend some training events e.g. health and safety and appraisal, to ensure the policy is implemented with good practice. The majority of colleagues accept this and see the benefit of it, however, some may not wish to be part of this.
To conclude, staff development is central to the success of the University. An increasing number of colleagues are taking up opportunities which can be confirmed by the fact that in the 1997/98 academic year 2, 341 training places were taken up through the Training and Development Unit, Interactive Learning Centre, Computing Services and Safety Office. It has to be recognised that there is an equal level of responsibility for staff development between individuals, managers and the University. It is not a one sided activity! If their are problems we strongly encourage colleagues to come and talk to us and work to a positive solution.
Yours sincerely
Tony Cooper, Training and Development Manager

INFORMATION FOR PASNAS PENSIONERS

Several years ago with help from an article in "Saga Magazine" we set in motion the process which eventually led to a Pensioner Representative being elected on the Board of Trustees of P.A.S.N.A.S. Our incentive was the rejection of three requests from retired members of the three Unions in December 1996 for a bonus from the Scheme which had been in surplus for several years.

Following the 1992 Valuation of the Pension Scheme the University did negotiate with the active membership and agreed a small reduction in the contribution rate (from 5.17% to 5%) together with an improvement in some of the benefits e.g. ill-health retirement, no actuarial reduction from age 60 onwards etc. Nothing has been done for the pensioners.

The surplus must have, in part, been derived from employees' contributions past and present and people we have spoken to, both in post and retired think it is not unreasonable for a very small portion of the surplus to be paid to the pensioners. Although there is no contractual obligation to the pensioners by the University many good employers e.g. National Power have paid their pensioners lump sums on more than one occasion when they have declared a surplus.

The University has been advised that they can continue the contribution "holiday" for a further three years saving about Ł13 million.

Our Pensioner Trustee, Mrs. D. Turner has been stalled for 12 months over her request for a pensioner bonus. At the February Meeting of the Trustees Mrs Turner requested a one off lump sum of Ł300 to be paid to all pensioners in post on the 1st August 1998, which would be simple to implement and cost a total of about $165k.

This request has gone to Human Resources and will then go to the "appropriate" Committee, thus further delaying a final decision.

We are writing this letter to "Viewpoint" as it is the easiest way to inform present and past members of P.A.S.N.A.S. of the current position regarding the pensioners' efforts to have a share in the healthy state of the Pension Fund.

Mrs. M. Chandler and Mrs. A. Kingston
Retired Members of Unison

More catering

Dear Mike
Reading most of what has come into Viewpoint reference Catering most I think emphasise the point that I made in the letter I in Viewpoint No. 390
The only way that the facilities are going to improve is that the Staff must be prepared to put some effort into them themselves.
If one is prepared to allow others to run things far removed from what the Staff expect from such a facility you will get what they are prepared to offer, not what you as Staff want!
I may be wrong but it appears to me that the Staff Club Committee has little or no input into what goes on in the catering facilities as supplied.
I will repeat what I said in my previous letter "There are NO free Lunches" in today's world.
To take control of your own destiny is the only way, and there will be a price to pay either by a Staff Club subscription or from realistic prices being charged which will cover all costs that are incurred for the day to day running of the Staff Club.
Some Clubs are run on a purely voluntary staffing basis, personally I think this is fine in a small establishment but in such a large concern as the University this I believe would be impracticable.
The staff club area is a really large space which from a business point of view is wasted! By this I mean that on most weekdays it is a large investment which closes around 8pm and although occasionally "Let" for private functions at weekends and some weekday evenings, is the full potential of such a large space being marketed to make money? If we as Staff were to take it over, for prices to be maintained at the lowest that your correspondents seem to want this valuable space would have to be utilised to the full and from a purely business standpoint marketed to that end.
The easiest thing in the world to do is to stand back and criticise but I believe some of the criticism of late has been justified.
Yours Aye
M Clarke, Safety Office

Readers may find it useful to be reminded that the STAFF CLUB WEBSITE is now extensively updated.

As a public service, Viewpoint has also made the Staff Club Constitution available for those who might otherwise have missed it.

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