Campaigners welcome first Tory Cabinet Minister with a beard since 1905

Posted in Beards, Politics on July 16, 2014 by telescoper

An important and under-reported aspect of yesterday’s Cabinet reshuffle…

kmflett's avatarKmflett's Blog

Beard Liberation Front
PRESS RELEASE 15th July
Contact Keith Flett 07803 167266
CAMPAIGNERS WELCOME FIRST TORY CABINET MINISTER WITH A BEARD SINCE 1905
The Beard Liberation Front, the informal network of beard wearers, has welcomed David Cameron’s decision to appoint Preseli Pembrokeshire MP Stephen Crabb as Welsh Secretary in the new Cabinet.

Crabb becomes the first Tory Cabinet Minister with a beard since the 4th Earl of Onslow stepped down as President of the Board of Agriculture in March 1905*

The campaigners say that the Tory Party has had a reputation for pogonophobia, reinforced when John Selwyn Gummer was reputedly told by Mrs Thatcher to shave his beard off if he wanted a Cabinet seat. In more recent years there have been a few hirsute Tory MPs such as John Randall who has just signalled his intention to step down as MP for Uxbridge
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BLF Organiser Keith Flett said…

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End of Term Report: David Willetts

Posted in Education, Politics, Science Politics with tags , , , , on July 15, 2014 by telescoper

News broke yesterday that the Minister responsible for Universities and Science within the Department of Business, Innovation and Skills, David Willetts, had stepped down from his role and would be leaving Parliament at the next election.

Willetts’ departure isn’t particularly surprising in itself, but its announcement came along with a host of other sackings and resignations in a pre-Election cabinet reshuffle that was much wider in its scope than most expected. It seems to me that Prime Minster David Cameron has decided to play to the gallery again. After almost four years in which his Cabinet has been dominated by white males, most of them nondescript timeserving political hacks without beards, he has culled some of them at random to try to pretend that he does after all care about equality and diversity. Actually, I don’t think David Cameron cares for very much at all apart from his own political future and this is just a cynical attempt to win back some votes before the next Polling Day, presumably in May 2015. Rumour has it that one of the new Cabinet ministers may even have facial hair. Such progress.

Willets

David Willetts was planning to step down at the next General Election anyway so his departure now was pretty much inevitable. I never agreed with his politics, but have to admit that he was a Minister who at least understood some things about Higher Education. In particular he knew the value of science and secured a flat cash settlement for the science budget at a time when other Whitehall budgets were suffering drastic cuts. He was by no means all bad. He even had the good taste – so I’m told – to read this blog from time to time….

The campaigning organization Science is Vital has expressed its sadness at his departure:

We’re sorry to see David Willetts moved from the Science Minister role. He listened, in person, to our arguments for increasing public funding for science, and we appreciated the support he showed for science within the government.

We look forward to renewed dialogue with his successor, in order to continue to press the case that science is vital for the UK.

Now that he has gone, my main worry is that the commitments he gave to ring-fence the science budget will go with him. I don’t know anything about his replacement, Greg Clark, though I hope he follows his predecessor at least in this regard.

Other aspects of Willetts’ tenure of the Higher Education office are much less positive. He has provided over an ideologically-driven rush to force the University sector into an era of chaos and instability, driven by a rigged quasi-market propelled by an unsustainable system of tuition fees funded by student loans, a large fraction of which will never be repaid.

Another of Willetts’ notable failures relates to Open Access. Although apparently grasping the argument and make all the right noises about breaking the stranglehold exerted on academia by outmoded forms of publication, he sadly allowed the agenda to be hijacked by vested interests in the academic publishing lobby. Fortunately, there’s still a very strong chance that academics can take this particular issue into their own hands instead of relying on the politicians who time and time again prove themselves to be in the pockets of big business.

My biggest fear for Higher Education at the moment is that the new Minister will turn out to be far worse and that if the Conservatives win the next election (which is far from unlikely), Science is Vital will have to return to Whitehall to protest against the inevitable cuts. If that happens, it may well be that David Willetts is remembered not as the man who saved British science, but the man who gave it a stay of execution.

This Is Our Music – A tribute to Charlie Haden

Posted in Jazz with tags , , , , , on July 14, 2014 by telescoper

I was saddened at the weekend to hear of the death, on Friday 11th July, at the age of 76, of the great jazz bassist, Charlie Haden. I always associate Charlie Haden with a series of great records he made with Ornett Coleman and Don Cherry during the late 50s and early 60s, including The Shape of Jazz to Come and Change of the Century, both of which I’ve blogged about already. I thought I’d pay a little tribute to Charlie Haden by writing about another of these masterpieces, a disc called This Is Our Music. As with the other two, this is also available in full on Youtube so you can listen to it here:

When he first arrived on the jazz scene the licence Coleman allowed himself in his improvisations drew criticism bordering on abuse from several prominent musicians. This a view echoed, for example, by the great Charles Mingus in quote I got from another blog about Ornette Coleman

Now aside from the fact that I doubt he can even play a C scale in whole notes—tied whole notes, a couple of bars apiece—in tune, the fact remains that his notes and lines are so fresh. So when [the jazz dj] Symphony Sid played his record, it made everything else he was playing, even my own record that he played, sound terrible.

Although he clearly admired his originality, Mingus may have been right about the very young Ornette Coleman’s technical ability; but I don’t think any unbiased listener could argue that he lacked mastery of his instrument by the time this record was made, in 1960. His skill in sustaining notes (always difficult on alto sax, which he plays throughout this album) is especially evident on this album in the standard Embraceable You whilst the precision of his articulation at any temp makes it quite clear that he really had little to learn in any aspect of control of his instrument. The slurs and distortions that are so much a part of his style are beautifully managed, and combine with his daring tonal approach to give the impression of great freedom that he strove to convey in his music.

It used to be question whether the liberties in which Coleman indulged were not so as extreme as to preclude overall unity, yet for all his virtuosity in rhythmic and melodic invention, he displays a genuine continuity of line in everything he does on this record. On Blues Connation, for example, his solo evolves with impeccable logic, each phrase growing almost inexorably out of the one before, whilst the general melodic shape bears continuous affinity to the theme. Moreover, his music boasts an intensity of feeling that no charlatan could ever hope to achieve. As I hear it, the dominant emotion in his playing at fast tempo is not love, as some have claimed, so much as fear, although this mood is often relieved by flashes of lyrical sadness. In the slower pieces, such as Beauty is a Rare Thing and Embraceable You, and the medium-paced Humpty Dumpty, the latter sentiment comes through even more strongly.

Don Cherry was an ideal partner, for his work is cast in a similar mould, but at this stage in his own development he did tend to stand in Coleman’s shadow. Drummer Ed Blackwell is very good throughout, but Charlie Haden is nothing short of brilliant, which is why I chose this as a tribute piece for him.

The bassist Haden not only displays all the classic jazz virtues expected of him, but also possesses an amazing sense of anticipation that enables him to work hand in glove with the two hornmen. Blackwell is neither a loud nor an aggressive drummer, but he evinces genuine drive and the interweaving mobility he and Haden achieve together is truly remarkable in its own right as well as fitting well with the richness of the leader’s own work.

Had I the time, I could write a lot more about this album in particular and about Charlie Haden in general, but all I can do his suggest that you listen to the LP for yourself. Coleman was still refining his concept of how his Quartet should function, so it’s a little rough around the edges in places, and in any case I know many devout jazz fans who find this kind of music challenging. It is worth it, though. Charlie Haden was only 22 when This Is Our Music was recorded. He went on to many great things during his subsequent career. Sadly that spark has now gone out, but he will live on in our hearts through his music.

Rest in Peace, Charlie Haden, Jazz legend (1937-2014).

Awards Day at West Dean College

Posted in Art, Biographical, Education with tags , , , , , , on July 13, 2014 by telescoper

Last week was a very busy week at the University of Sussex (including the Graduation Ceremony for students in the School of Mathematical and Physical Sciences), and yesterday (Saturday) saw me attending another event on quasi-official business, this time at West Dean College, which is situated in West Sussex, a few miles North of Chichester.

The occasion for my visit there was Awards Day at the college, and I got the chance to go because one of our Pro-Vice Chancellors was unable to attend so I volunteered to go in her place. I didn’t know much about the College before yesterday, except that it is one of several institutions whose degree programmes are validated by the University of Sussex.

In fact, the College provides MA degrees, diplomas and short courses for students of all abilities, from the beginner to the advanced professional practitioner across a wide range of creative arts, design and conservation (including rare and old books, furniture, and clocks).  The various degree certificates, diplomas and other prizes were handed out to students of all ages, which was great to see. Before I go on I just like to congratulate them all again on their wonderful achievements, especially those creative arts students whose work we were able to view after the ceremony including prize-winning sculptures by Lotti V Closs. I even made a discreet inquiry about whether it was possible to buy some of the pieces…

Anyway, West Dean College is based in West Dean House, part of an ancient estate that was eventually inherited by the poet Edward James, a notable patron of the arts particularly famous for his support of the surrealist movement. The house was extensively modified during the late around about the turn of the twentieth century which presumably accounts for the distinctive arts-and-crafts look of some of the exterior.

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The house is surrounded by an estate of 6000 acres in beautiful countryside. Ownership of the house, the estate and the art collection housed therein was transferred to the Edward James Foundation, a charitable educational trust, in 1964.

Many sheep were in attendance, although they didn’t come to the actual ceremony. To be honest, it was a much grander setting than I’d imagined it would be. In fact I think the last time I saw a place like West Dean House it was the site of a Country House Murder during an episode of Midsomer Murders or some such. The awards ceremony was held held in a Marquee on the lawns which, in the muggy weather, was a little uncomfortable though the programmes came in very useful as fans. Fortunately it all passed off peacefully without any murders although I did see a large group of crows in the fields, if that counts.

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The manner of my arrival was much less grand than the location seemed to require. I took the train from Brighton to Chichester and then got a bus to West Dean. Being about half an hour early for the kickoff, I had time to walk around the grounds of the house. There’s a beautiful walled garden with many lovely flowers.

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I recognized  Crocosmia Lucifer and Phlox among the following..

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These curious but beautiful lantern-shaped flowers evidently belong to some type of lily, but I don’t know what kind. Any offers? (UPDATE: I am reliably informed that these are examples of Erythronium Pagoda
..)

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The walled garden is just one small part of the estate, which also comprises workshops and studios used by the students, a very nice dining room and bar area plus rooms for meetings and conferences. I enjoyed a quick tour of the facilities after the Awards Ceremony, but must go back some other time to have a proper look. The other gardens are fine too:

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And this pergola would put most garden varieties to shame!

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Anyway, since one of the Prizes presented yesterday was for blogging about conservation, I couldn’t resist advertising the West Dean College blogs. They have two, in fact, one for Conservation (here) and one for Visual Arts (here). These are both hosted on wordpress platforms, so if you’re following this blog on WordPress why not give them a follow too?

Come to the Edge

Posted in Education, Poetry with tags , , on July 12, 2014 by telescoper

Just back home after a very pleasant trip to West Sussex, about which I’ll blog tomorrow. During the course of the afternoon, however, I heard the following short but very effective poem which seems apt to dedicate to all the recent graduates of the School of Mathematical and Physical Sciences at the University of Sussex.

Come to the edge.
We might fall.
Come to the edge.
It’s too high!
COME TO THE EDGE!
And they came,
And we pushed,
And they flew.

by Christopher Logue (1926-2011)

This Land is Mine

Posted in Art, History, Politics with tags , , on July 11, 2014 by telescoper

Brilliant video by Nina Paley on the tragedy and absurdity of armed conflict…

 

 

 

Honoris Causa, Dr Chryssa Kouveliotou

Posted in Education, The Universe and Stuff with tags , , , , , on July 10, 2014 by telescoper

This morning I had the privilege of participating in a graduation ceremony at the University of Sussex. It was great to get to shake the hands of all the successful graduates as they crossed the stage to receive their degrees. I hope I’ll be able to collect a few pictures of the occasion and post them in due course.

 

Kouveliotou

I also had the privilege of being able to present an extremely distinguished honorary graduand, Dr Chryssa Kouveliotou. Here the oration I delivered, which I’m posting simply to record her amazing achievements and to underline that she is one of many people who have done the MSc in Astronomy at Sussex University and gone on to do great things…

 

Vice-Chancellor,

It is both a pleasure and an honour to present for the award of the degree of Doctor of Science, Dr Chryssa Kouveliotou.

Inspired by watching Neil Armstrong take his first step on the moon, Dr Kouveliotou always wanted to be an astronaut but, with no such opportunities apparently on offer in her native, she instead chose a career in astronomy. However, when she completed college Greece her astronomy professor (who shall remain nameless) advised her that there was no future for her in astrophysics. She has never known whether he really thought it was a poor choice or whether it was because she was a woman. Determined to follow her own path, she disregarded him completely and, even though her open-minded parents’ preference was for her to settle down and stay in her home country, she left to study for her Master’s degree in Astronomy at the University of Sussex; the topic of her dissertation was “The Sodium emission cloud around Io: mapping and correlation with Jupiter’s magnetic field”. She received the MSc in Astronomy in 1977. Although the topic of her subsequent research was rather different, the connection with magnetic fields remained strong.

Dr Kouveliotou then moved to Germany to do postgraduate research on the-then very new topic of gamma-ray bursts. Indeed, she may well have been the very first person to complete a thesis on this, which remains to this day an extremely active and exciting field of research. Gamma-ray bursts are considered to be the most powerful explosions in the universe, second only to the Big Bang itself.

After completing her PhD, Dr Kouveliotou returned to Greece to teach Physics and Astronomy at the University of Athens. All the while she knew that she really wanted to do research so spent her free time pursuing this goal. Every vacation and on her one-year sabbatical she went to the USA to undertake research at the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA). Her work was on solar flares but she moonlighted during evenings, nights and weekends researching her ‘first love’ gamma-ray bursts. Because of the research she undertook outside her “day job”, she found a series of bursts which all came from the same part of the sky and, as a result, became part of the discovery team for a brand new phenomenon called a soft gamma-ray repeater.

By observing gamma rays produced in space, her team discovered an example of a new class of exotic astronomical object called a magnetar, an object which has a magnetic field trillions of times stronger than that of the Earth. A magnetar is now known to be a type of neutron star, a burnt-out relic resulting from the death of an ordinary star in a supernova explosion.

Dr Kouveliotou has always loved to ask big questions, to look at the universe and ask how nature expresses itself. By overcoming obstacles in her path she really has reached the stars. In January 2013 Dr Chryssa Kouveliotou was named the Senior Scientist for High Energy Astrophysics, Science and Research Office at NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center in Hunstville, Alabama.

She has received many awards for her work, including the Dannie Heineman Prize for Astrophysics and the NASA Exceptional Service Medal in 2012 and the NASA Space Act Award in 2005. She was also named amongst Time Magazine’s 25 Most Influential People in Space in 2012. In 2003 she was honoured with the annual Rossi Prize by the High Energy Astrophysics division of the American Astronomical Society for a significant contribution to high-energy astrophysics. In 2002 she received the Descartes Prize which recognises scientific breakthroughs from European collaborative research in any scientific field. In the awards bestowed upon her she has also been recognised for her effectiveness at creating the sort of large collaboration needed to make effective use of multi-wavelength astronomical observations.

Dr Kouveliotou has published almost 400 papers in refereed scientific journals and has been amongst the top 10 most-cited space science researchers in the academic literature across the world. She has been elected chair of the Division of Astrophysics of the American Physical Society and is a member of the Council of the American Astronomical Society, of which she chairs the High Energy Astrophysics Division.

Vice-Chancellor, I present to you for the degree of Doctor of Science, honoris causa, Dr Chryssa Kouveliotou.

 

 

Commemorations

Posted in Biographical, Football, History with tags , , , , , , on July 9, 2014 by telescoper

This is a busy week in many ways and for many reasons, but the main activity revolves around Graduation at the University of Sussex. There are 7 ceremonies this week altogether; my School (Mathematical and Physical Sciences) is No. 4, which takes place tomorrow morning (Thursday).

Things are going to be a bit different this year. The Chancellor of the University, Sanjeev Bhaskar, is unable to preside owing to prior commitments (filming episodes of Doctor Who in Cardiff). This is sad because his informality and sense of humour usually brings an enormous amount to such occasions. After much discussion and debate it was eventually decided (on Monday) that the normal order of ceremonies would be changed so that the Head of the graduating School would stand in the centre of the platform, where the Chancellor would normally be situated, in order to shake hands with (and generally congratulate) the graduands as their names are read out and they cross the stage. Normally the Head of School simply reads out the list of names from a podium at one side, so it will be nice to be a bit more involved, although doubt that there will be as many students wanting to take selfies with me as there would have been had Sanjeev been there!

I also have the honour to present an honorary graduate at the ceremony, but I’ll probably say more about that in a future post.

This is a special graduation week for another reason too. It’s now fifty years since the first University of Sussex graduation ceremony in 1964. The University only received its Royal Charter in 1961 and there were only 38 graduates at the first ceremony. This week about 3000 will cross the stage.

Anyway, last night there was a special Commemoration Dinner to mark the 50th Anniversary in the Dining Room of Brighton Pavilion:

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The decor is a little understated for my tastes, but apart from that it was a splendid occasion. We didn’t sit at the central table, which is covered with period crockery and cutlery, and was roped off; we sat at smaller tables situated in the space around it. Owing to some sort of administrative error I was accidentally seated at a Table 1, along with a host of important people and the Vice-Chancellor. This turned out well for me as I was seated near Asa Briggs (now Lord Briggs) a famous historian who was the second Vice-Chancellor of the University. He’s now 93 years young and a bit frail but wonderfully interesting conversation ensued. The opportunity to talk to a true Sussex legend added to the fine food and wine to make for a wonderful evening.

There’s another point worth commemorating in the light of the forthcoming centenary of the start of the First World War. One thing I didn’t know before this week was that during World War 1, Brighton Pavilion was commandeered for use as a hospital for wounded soldiers, many of them from India. In fact, the first ever recipient of the Victoria Cross from the British Indian Army, Khudadad Khan, recovered there from wounds sustained in action in Belgium in 1914:

In October 1914, the Germans launched a major offensive in northern Belgium, in order to capture the vital ports of Boulogne in France and Nieuport in Belgium. In what came to be known as the First Battle of Ypres, the newly arrived 129th Baluchis were rushed to the frontline to support the hard-pressed British troops. On 31 October, two companies of the Baluchis bore the brunt of the main German attack near the village of Gheluvelt in Hollebeke Sector. The out-numbered Baluchis fought gallantly but were overwhelmed after suffering heavy casualties. Sepoy Khudadad Khan’s machine-gun team, along with one other, kept their guns in action throughout the day; preventing the Germans from making the final breakthrough. The other gun was disabled by a shell and eventually Khudadad Khan’s own team was overrun. All the men were killed by bullets or bayonets except Khudadad Khan, who despite being badly wounded, had continued working his gun. He was left for dead by the enemy but despite his wounds, he managed to crawl back to his regiment during the night. Thanks to his bravery, and that of his fellow Baluchis, the Germans were held up just long enough for Indian and British reinforcements to arrive. They strengthened the line, and prevented the German Army from reaching the vital ports. For his matchless feat of courage and gallantry, Sepoy Khudadad Khan was awarded the Victoria Cross.

We were honoured last night by the presence at dinner of Sergeant Johnson Beharry who, in 2005, became the first recipient of the Victoria Cross for over thirty years for acts of extreme courage when serving as Lance Corporal in Iraq.

On 1 May 2004, Beharry was driving a Warrior tracked armoured vehicle that had been called to the assistance of a foot patrol caught in a series of ambushes. The Warrior was hit by multiple rocket propelled grenades, causing damage and resulting in the loss of radio communications. The platoon commander, the vehicle’s gunner and a number of other soldiers in the vehicle were injured. Due to damage to his periscope optics, Pte. Beharry was forced to open his hatch to steer his vehicle, exposing his face and head to withering small arms fire. Beharry drove the crippled Warrior through the ambush, taking his own crew and leading five other Warriors to safety. He then extracted his wounded comrades from the vehicle, all the time exposed to further enemy fire. He was cited on this occasion for “valour of the highest order”.

While back on duty on 11 June 2004, Beharry was again driving the lead Warrior of his platoon through Al Amarah when his vehicle was ambushed. A rocket propelled grenade hit the vehicle six inches from Beharry’s head, and he received serious shrapnel injuries to his face and brain. Other rockets then hit the vehicle, incapacitating his commander and injuring several of the crew. Despite his life-threatening injuries, Beharry retained control of his vehicle and drove it out of the ambush area before losing consciousness. He required brain surgery for his head injuries, and he was still recovering in March 2005 when he was awarded the Victoria Cross.

It’s humbling to be in the presence of such a courageous fellow. I only wish our mendacious politicians hadn’t engineered the conflict that made his actions necessary in the first place.  Resplendent in his dress uniform, I’m glad to say that Sergeant Beharry seems fully recovered from his injuries.

I had forgotten to take my Blackberry with me when I left my flat to walk to the dinner so was unable to keep up with the World Cup semi-final. This came up in the conversation at the table. Lord Briggs concurred with my prediction that Germany would win comfortably. It was only when I left the Pavilion and walked past a pub on the way to the bus-stop that I saw the scale of the thrashing that Germany had administered. It was 7-0 when I stopped to look at the screen just in time to see Brazil score. I wouldn’t even describe it as a consolation goal. This amazing result will now be forever linked in my mind with the other events of the evening.

Anyway, must finish now. I have to write my speech for tomorrow’s ceremony!

 

A Sketch to Make the Blood Run Cold

Posted in Television with tags , on July 8, 2014 by telescoper

I’m assuming that the writers of Not The Nine O’Clock News didn’t know in 1980 what we now know about Rolf Harris. The joke was really just about the BBC trying desperately to get kinds to participate in a crappy programme. But still..

Remembering the 7th of July

Posted in Biographical, History with tags , , on July 7, 2014 by telescoper

I was saddened and dismayed to read that the memorial for the victims of the terrorist attacks in London on 7th July 2005 has been defaced. We all know that Blair lied about the Iraq war but insulting the memories of the 52 innocent people who perished on that day doesn’t help one little bit to bring him to justice. Two wrongs don’t make a right. This is just sick.

I have my own reasons for remembering the 7th July. One summer morning in 2005 I rose early and left my house – I was living in Nottingham then – and took a train to London. I was quite excited. I was going to be interviewed later that day for a programme in the BBC TV series Horizon called The Hawking Paradox. The filming was to take place inside the Café de Paris near Piccadilly Circus, for the simple reason that it wasn’t used during the daytime, and would therefore be both quiet and cheap to hire. I was keen not to be late so I got a train that was due to arrive at St Pancras Station in London at about 9.30am.

On the train I dealt with a few bits of correspondence, filling in forms and writing out cheques to pay bills, so had a couple of  items of mail to post when I got to London. The train was on time, and it was a fine morning, so I decided to walk from the station down through Soho to the location of the shoot.

I crossed Euston Road and walked down towards Bloomsbury. Spying  a bright red Royal Mail postbox across the road  in Tavistock Square, I waited for a bus to go past, crossed the road and popped my letters into the box. I looked at my watch to see if I had time for coffee on the way to Piccadilly. It was exactly 9.45am, on July 6th 2005.

I enjoyed the filming, although it took quite a long time – as these things do. Breaking for lunch in a local pizzeria, we were surrounded by a hubbub of excitement when news broke that London had been awarded the right to stage the 2012 Olympics. We finished the filming and I headed back to Nottingham on the train. All in all it had been a very pleasant day.

The terrible events of 7th July 2005 took place the day after my trip. Here is a picture of the postbox in Tavistock Square taken on 7/7/2005. The bomb that tore the roof off the bus and killed 13 people went off at 9.47am, almost exactly 24 hours after I had been in precisely the same spot. What a difference a day makes.