João Lucas

Critics of Oxbridge take unkindly to our M.A. When I had to fill in one of those innumerable time-wasting forms to show how unqualified I was to hold an academic post, I was specifically instructed to describe myself as a B.A., which I was proud to do, since our B.A. is our best degree (everything in Oxford being the opposite of what it seems). But the real equivalent of a mediaeval M.A. is a modern D.Phil, with every academic wanting to call himself Doctor rather than Master, which is felt to offend our egalitarian age; and now we are going back to the mediaeval trivium followed by a post-grad quadrivium, it might seem that we should tidy up our gradations, and have simply a B.A. for the former, and a D.Phil. for the latter.

The Norrington Table is scotched, but not killed. It still appears each year in a national daily, having been compiled by an enterprising graduate with more need for money than time. Some people argue that this shows the futility of trying to suppress the table. But that is not so. In a free society it is open to anyone to obtain information and publish his results. There are many things that people might like to know about colleges. Of greater interest to many than schools results would be the average earnings of graduates of each college five years after going down: that would enable people to pick the best college for repaying student loans, and for enjoying the fruits of worldly success. An enterprising graduate with nothing better to do might go through the university telephone directory, and work out the Ms-ratio for each college and department: no doubt the Daily Telegraph would pay good money for a list of those parts of Oxford that were entirely Ms-free. What is important is not what other people say, but what we say, or seem to endorse its being said, about us. Once the Norrington table appeared to have our imprimatur, it suggested that we set too much score by schools results, and instead of regarding final examinations as a necessary evil, bad, but less bad than any available alternative, we reckoned that getting a good result in schools was the chief..

We were discussing the retirement age. Many of my colleagues said that of course existing interests must be preserved, but they had noticed that some of their colleagues had been past their prime by the time they reached 67, and that it would be a good thing if in future dons were retired at 65. I agreed, but pointed out that the argument went further. Quite a few of us were already deteriorating before they were 65. Nor was it clear that 60 was the watershed. One could think of people who had finished their creative work by the time they were 55, indeed, by the time they were fifty. In fact some of us were already bores in our forties, and in so far as a large part of our raison d'etre was to teach the young, our ability to relate to them began to diminish in our thirties. The temperature dropped five degree with each five years, and in chilly silence the College moved on to Next Business.

x8.1 `Real' The word `real' has many senses, and has been much misunderstood in consequence. It was, along with other philosophical terms, such as quality, quantity, entity, identity, essence and substance, coined by the Schoolmen in the Middle Ages|realis, reale from the Latin res, a thing|to mark the distinction between what really existed and what mere existed in intellectu, in the mind; and the word still carries connotations of thinginess, which can confuse our thinking about reality in the present age.

One of the great virtues of Oxford is that most of its members are not academics, nor ever supposed that they sould be. They come to Oxford for three or four years and then go on their way to other occupations in "the service of God in Church and State". It is not that they were not good enough to become dons: it is simply that they had other fish to fry, and would rather be a barrister, a Member of Parliament, a schoolmaster or a clergyman, and would not be tempted from their chosen vocation by any offer of a Fellowship or a life of ease and scholarship. The benefits of this are great. To have left Oxford of one's own accord and not on account of having failed to get an award or a post is to part from a friend with no sense of having been rejected. The Civil Servant who goes down with a first in Greats has no sense that he did not make it at Oxford, no need to shake its dust off his shoes because Oxford did not offer him a job, and in consequence he can easily look back on four golden years of widening horizons, untarnished by some final disappointment. And in general our alumni can feel warmly to their alma mater, because their going was of their choosing, and not because they were rudely pushed out of the nest.

Dance, Music and Dramaturgy: collaboration plan and dramaturgical apparatus – The unfolding of the concept of dramaturgy and the problematics of contemporary choreography are, today, a vast and diverse field of research, bearing numerous disclosures that lead to their reciprocal implication. Apart from that, dance and music share significant complementary ties allowing for the consideration of a common compositional inquiry. Reflecting on the compositional processes of dance and music, this article cross-examines the collaboration between choreographers and composers, integrating the incidence of dramaturgy in the strategies of choreographic and musical composition.