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Indonesia has a legal right to West New Guinea, claims Professor L. H. Palmier. There seems no rational reason why the Dutch should continue to occupy the island, especially when the majority of Dutch care little about New Guinea's future. But this does not detract from the fact that Indonesia's military build-up is quite irresponsible considering the declining prosperity of the already poor country.
In a talk to World Affairs Council, Professor Palmier began by tracing the recent history of the area. In 1957, after a few preliminary riots, the government seized Dutch property. This severed a connection begun in 1619 with the foundation of Batavia, a connection longer than that of the British in India. The dispute over West New Guinea arose in December, 1949 at the transfer of sovereignty after a superior battle both in the bush and in diplomatic circles by the Javanese.
There was very little dispute at the handing over in 1949, the only point of difference being, of course. West New Guinea. The U.S., which had favoured the independence struggle, suggested the compromise that the question be left for one year pending negotiations. The Netherland forces remained in occupation because the Indonesians were too weak to drive them out. However, this occupation could not be regarded as a legal claim to sovereignty considering such precedents as the British occupation of Cyprus in 1878, the British still recognizing Turkish sovereignty.
All statements made before
It is essentially a matter of force and to this end Indonesia has begun a large-scale military build up.
In
There seemed no rational reason why the Dutch should hold on to West New Guinea as it is largely a barren country with only 700,000 people, of which only 300,000 are in contact with the outside world. Another 50,000 are of Indonesian extraction. Those living in the interior are still practicing stone age culture. The island does not pay its way and the oil production is steadily diminishing; it costs the Dutch over £8 million to keep the island solvent for one year.
The Dutch have given two main reasons for remaining on the island; in
Why should the Dutch hold on to it? Professor Palmier said that the churches in Holland had pressured the Government because of their missionaries, but more important was the fact that the Dutch wanted to be considered a great nation and earn respect from the U.S. as an Asian power.
Why does Indonesia want the island? Pre-independence statements made by Sukarno did not explicitly demand West New Guinea. The team negotiating independence comprised half Republicans, half Federalists. The latter were all for co-operating with the Dutch but were adamant upon the subject of New Guinea; they wanted to show that co-operation was the best way. The Republicans were keen to battle it out with the Dutch. The Republicans wanted to get independence immediately and were afraid that negotiations over the island might delay the independence talks.
After independence, the Republicans (who hailed from Java) managed to unite the nation under the banner of freedom for West Irian. On independence the Republicans had to show their patriotism; added to this was the difficulty of declining economy. There was one solution—that was to stress the New Guinea question, so uniting the country and at the same time showing everyone that they could govern, as only they had all the people behind their policies.
Citing the analogy of the invasion of Goa by India, Professor Palmier said that India had no legal right for this action, but this, and Indonesia's claim, have the backing of the Afro-Asian bloc. Support for these claims do not come because they are anti-colonial, but rather that they are anti-West. The Afro-Asian world no longer recognizes rules that were made by the Western colonial powers.
For Indonesia, with its critical financial problems, to spend large sums of money on arms build-up was quite irresponsible; nor was the Goan invasion responsible considering the state of India's economy. When a person is rich he acts in a more responsible manner. When a country is rich and powerful it tends to act more responsibly. Concluded Professor Palmier: "More aid to Asia will make these countries more responsible."
However, he was of the opinion that Indonesia's claim was a valid one and that the Dutch had no right to maintain their troops in West New Guinea.
Because the Dutch have the present military superiority that does not mean that that substantiates their claim for the island. Moreover, prior to
With the recent departure of the World Bank Mission we are left wondering what sort of report they will be taking back to the Bank Directors. If they say very much about the way we are running our economy it will hardly be complimentary.
For dealing with our present economic crisis the Government seems to be relying on only two weapons in its economic armoury, masterly(?) inaction, and pious pleas for voluntary restraint. To do it justice it has made some attempt to cut bank advances and imports, but since it has at the same time done almost nothing to restrain internal demand it is fairly obvious that these policies will prove ineffective. Within a year we should really be in the cactus (unless export prices rise). However, since
It is of course relatively easy to understand why the Government is frightened to take action. It took over the economy in the same sort of mess it had left it in three years previously, due this time to Mr. Nordmeyer's belated attempts to win the election. However since National Party spokesmen had denounced every step taken by Nordmeyer in
But this is not a good enough reason for letting things slide. New Zealand in the next decade faces formidable economic problems. The effortless prosperity of the
So we are left with N.Z. in its present economic position—slowly sliding downhill with the Government too frightened to put on the brakes. Despite the urgent recommendations of the Government appointed Monetary and Economic Council calling for immediate tax increases and further stringent measures to straighten out the economy it looks as if nothing will get done, The Prime Minister has spoken hopefully about restoring economic balance over three years or more, a sure indication that he doesn't intend to do anything in the immediate future.
In the meantime we will all have to hope that something will turn up (especially export prices). Still, we can always migrate en mass to Australia and join their unemployed.
"Can I know that there is a God?" was the problem posed by Mathematics Lecturer Wilf Malcolm in a Wednesday lecture to the Evangelical Union. "If I can merely say that I believe in God I could be wrong even though I am sincere. I could sincerely believe it was two o'clock when it was in fact one-fifteen."
Mr Malcolm laid down three conditions which must be satisfied if a man is to be able to say "I know there is a God."
Mr Malcolm then went on to survey the validity of some of the traditional arguments put forward to prove God's existence.
In general Mr Malcolm felt that while all these arguments shared the character of scientific arguments they fell short in that they could not be tested under control conditions. They were adequate only if one first assumed the existence of God.
Well then, asked Mr Malcolm, what was left that would satisfy our original conditions? This he felt depended on the method one wished to use to gain truth by. It was a fallacy to assume that truth could come only by scientific method. For instance, one could gain knowledge that could validly be regarded as truth from a study of History, even though this was not a scientific method. Taking it further, even scientific proof necessarily involved (as in Mathematics) an initial faith in the validity of the axioms used. Thus a Mathematician used faith as a means towards knowledge. Given the Mathematician's initial faith, the three conditions could be met when, he said, he knew the triangle theorem was true.
Similarly revelation could be a means towards knowledge, e.g. if I had a penfriend in South Africa who told me in repeated letters that he wished to be an artist, one could conclude that this revelation was true assuming it was open to anyone else also to write and enquire about it. (This assumed faith in the honesty of the Penfriend).
Hence Mr Malcolm asserted that revelation and faith were legitimate means towards gaining knowledge. The Agnostic Spencer had once objected against Christianity on the grounds that finite man could not know infinite God, and Mr Malcolm felt this was a valid objection unless God Himself revealed something of His nature to infinite man. This was the Christian message, and a means of knowledge towards God in Christ was open to those who would take the step of faith.
Faith itself was not knowledge, but a means towards it, and the way was open for those who wished to discover whether God could be known.
Published by the Victoria University of Wellington Students' Association. The opinions expressed in " Salient" are not necessarily those of the editors or stall. All unsigned and anonymous material must however. be construed as editorial.
It is said that today, geographical isolation counts for nohting in terms of the exclusiveness of cultural Art; that there are no longer any traditional mainstream cultures. Man is, more than ever before, deemed a product of society; and society in itself, a product of further societal influences. We may note, it is a seldom held opinion nowadays, that Man may mature in resolve from any social and environmental forces. Man is a part of culture—Art is an integral part of Man and culture. It is moreover, often postulated that whereas, two hundred years ago, people could demarcate Art into elements of tradition, origin, influence and so on; this today, has become an impossibility—Art and culture has become too homogeneous; the individuality in Art is all but lost, and the socalled modification of Art by culture is a dated concept.
True, certain peoples have maintained a fairly rigid cultural heredity; nor need these peoples necessarily be of "primitive" societies. The music, literature and painting of the Soviet is distinctive in that it follows a straight pattern, guided by definite (non-individual) rules. Soviet culture is now in its forty-fifth year of existence. Again, certain facets of American art have been developing strictly within the culture for many years. The American short story and poetry are two such distinctive, peculiar facets. We may observe, social maturity is prerequisite for artistic individuality; as are similarly, standards and criteria, and cultural appreciation. The formative aspect of Art is achieved through the Culture, the flavouring through the individual.
We, in New Zealand, are at a disadvantage (in this respect) in that we are a young and isolated culture. Young, because we are now, only in our fourth generation; isolated, on two counts—firstly, through our social immaturity, and secondly, through our geographical isolation. Our Art has taken the violent strain—and suffered accordingly—of having no set pattern from and through which to work; of being without standards of evaluation and judgment (standards, that is, applicable to our own culture); of struggling for existence in a society generally apathetic towards Art. We have consequently few claims to distinction. Our artists have done nought but parrot the vogues of other cultural patterns; our critics parrot the attitudes and ideas of others, unsuccessfully attempting to transpose criticism from one situation into another. Explicitly, we have little; little prose and painting, no music, no sculpture, no architecture, no poetry. It is the sad failing of our artistically isolated community, that we should attempt to carbon-copy foreign imports. We should realise our obligations and our latent assets; it is the fault of the culture and hence of the individual, of the critic and thus the artist, that we stand where we do—in danger of aesthetic sterility.
Sir.—In your Editorial "A Stab at the Right" you state that all those students supporting the S.G.M. are part of Mr. Dwyer's "herd", and infer that all are of anarchist leanings.
I will categorically state that I have never been in sympathy with Mr. Dwyer's beliefs and have no immediate prospect of joining his association. I moved one of the motions for the S.G.M. on my own motivation, not because Dwyer wanted me to. It may be of interest to inform you that, on many occasions, I have taken violent issue with anarchist opinions and have no sympathy with their movement.
It might pay you in future to investigate the situation before dashing off what was, after all, an irresponsible editorial.—I am, etc.
Sir,—Until the beginning of this year, we used to have a cloak room in the Hunter Building, just underneath the main stairs.
Now that the room is no longer available, much inconvenience is caused to male students who now have to face two alternatives, both of which are equally unpleasant: They could either leave their coats in the Student Union Building (which are already over-crowded); or they could make use of the racks on the ground floor or in the passage leading to the Old Chemistry Wing.
If the Student Union Building is used, the students have to wait when it rains. And if the rain does not stop, they are marooned in the Hunter Building, minus their coats. If the racks are made use of, you get dark looks from satchel-owners; and you are furthermore confronted with the unpleasant prospect of a soggy, damp raincoat.
Perhaps this letter will remedy the situation.—I am, etc.
Sir,—I want to congratulate you and your staff for the fine performance which you have given this year. It is quite a change reading reasonably intelligent material after the sex and grog-infiltrated "literature" of
Sir,—I was delighted to read an article in "Salient" stating that it is "U" to play badminton. My ego has been considerably boosted by this marvellous discovery.
I shall alter the rules of the club according to its new status.
Finally, I wish to express my sincere thanks to the misinformed coot who gave our "glamour club" such an enlightened advertisement.—I am, etc.,
Sir,—Towards the end of last year, your paper contained much controversy about the attire of some of our female population at Victoria. Despite the many letters protesting against the shortness of the skirts worn by certain sections of our community, the situation is still just as bad this year.
Being a reasonable person, I believe that we all have a right to do what we want; but I also believe that, in exercising our rights, we should always remember that the rights of others should not be infringed. And one thing which I think we all are entitled to do is to study without being distracted (in the library). Sir, can something be done about this?—I am. etc.,
Sir,—A poster advertising the forthcoming visit of the internationally renowned organist Kenneth Goodman, placed last week on the music notice-board, was removed, and replaced by one of your revolting, obscene and scurvy yellow posters.
While it is perhaps natural for a minor organ to attempt the subversion of a large one, it is in exceedingly bad taste, and is, furthermore, pusillanimity of the most insidious kind.
In pursuing such a campaign of intolerance against good music, you do not represent the vox humana. In fact you are treading a base cleft, and are on the brink of a bottomless abyss. In the memorable words of Roget: "pish! tush! tut! pshaw! pooh! fudge! bosh! humbug!"
We warn you sir, you must face the music, it will be piping hot, and we will call the tune!
You cannot keep a goodman down.—We are, etc.
Sir,—Now that the S.U.B. has been in use for 12 months, surely it is time the kitchen opposite the Common Room was adequately equipped. Six teaspoons do not go far. The number of teatowels is appallingly few, and there is no teapot. If one is required it must be borrowed personally from the Cafeteria.
This is the time of the year when it is common for several clubs to hold well-attended meetings on the same night. Forty-eight cups and eighteen saucers are hardly adequate under these circumstances.
I would suggest that whoever is responsible for this matter looks into the situation, and remedies it as soon as possible.—I am, etc.,
[This matter is being looked into by the House Committee.—Ed]
It is amazing how closely present day events in France parallel those of the Weimar Republic immediately prior to the rise of Hitler. Once again terrorism has become the accepted (possibly the only effective) means of political activity. Once again disgruntled military elements, embittered by a long series of military reverses, are turning upon the civilian population and embroiling themselves in political activity in an attempt to "restore national prestige". Once again we have the spectacle of an ageing, pitiful military figure, made remote from present day events by the aura of past military glories, being hailed by the bourgeoise as the national saviour. Few present day observers will take kindly to so equating De Gaulle and Hindenburg and see or prefer to see him as the only factor stopping a fascist coup in France. It must, however, be remembered that De Gaulle epitomises the aspirations of the French bourgeoise who, as they have demonstrated in the past, much prefer fascism to communism. De Gaulle demonstrated his abhorrence of communism during the Second World War when he refused to co-operate with the communist resistance leaders.
Only the Communist Party appears to be refusing to follow the historical pattern set by the German C.P. The period that saw the rise of Hitler also saw the consolidation of communist rule in Russia. The then leaders in Russia were fervent internationalists and encouraged the German C.P. to adopt a revolutionary policy. Stalin, with his doctrine of communism in one country, turned the international communist movement into an ancillary of Soviet Foreign policy. Since Krushchev gained power in the Soviet Union the national communist movements have achieved some independence of action. Thorez and his party have taken to heart the lesson of the past and are refusing to be provoked into revolutionary action. Thus we have the amazing spectacle of a revolutionary party acting as the main defender of a bourgeoise state.
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The timing of the National Party's action in raising University Fees should provide students with an object lesson in the Art of Politics. By announcing the fee increase immediately after finals Mr. Tennant effectively stifled (if only temporarily) a potentially vociferous pressure group and thus made organised resistance to the increase more difficult. Such finesse in political management is rare on the New Zealand political scene and Mr. Tennant must be congratulated. However, the matter is very far from ended yet! One of the main arguments brought forward in de fence of the fee increase is that it will eliminate those students who are attending University for social reasons and so ease the burden of the burgeoning student population. It has been my experience that the "socialite" student has a father who bears the burden of fee payments and those who will be most hit are the young students who for some reason or another foil in their first year and yet often go on to obtain excellent results. Thus many are arguing that the increases may once again make the Universities the preserve of the moneyed elite. Admittance to and progress through the university should be based solely upon merit not upon a student's ability to pay and keep paying.
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That Mr. Menzies was returned to power rather than cast into the political wilderness as he deserved can only be explained by the growing importance of the vote of the largely conservative minded European immigrant. Subsequent events serve admirably to illustrate the degenerate nature of most of present day politics. During the election campaign, Mr. Menzies and his party put forward a policy that they believed was in Australia's best interests. The shock given the government by the election results has caused it to jettison this policy and bring forward a policy designed solely for the purpose of regaining electoral support. It is obvious that principles are of little importance when weighed against votes.
The witchhunt against the local communist movement conducted by that defender of all that is best in the New Zealand way of life, New Zealand's largest selling weekly, "Truth", has been brought to a premature close. Such Mc-Carthyite tactics must be condemned by all who value freedom and the rights of the individual. Anyway, at present the New Zealand Communist Party is so paralysed by the split in its membership over the Sino-Russian dispute that it has virtually ceased to operate effectively. Anyone who has met the New Zealand C.P. leaders, will readily understand their support of the Stalinist line adopted by the Albanians and the Chinese. A large section of the party is apparently pressing for a liberalisation of party discipline and beliefs in line with Russian developments.
I wonder if Truth would be so eager to conduct a similar expose of the league of Empire Loyalists or the recently formed National Socialist Party of New Zealand. Perhaps they feel however, that such neo-Fascist and Fascist groups constitute no danger to the New Zealand way of life.
The debating season took off to a vigorous and somewhat bawdy start as Vic students debated the proposition "That Sin is a Figment of the Imagination."
Opening for the affirmative Hogg claimed that there was no Divine Law and therefore no sin, since an omniscient God would forgive everything. Larsen countered by saying that sin could be defined socially as well as theologically, and that Hogg reminded him of the New York psychiatrist who claimed that even the common cold was a figment of the imagination. Middleton rested the affirmative's case on the difference in morality in different societies "There is no word for bastardry in Samoa." Dent replied by (uncharacteristically) quoting Jung and Billy Graham, and told the story about the reporter who had questioned President Coolidge about a sermon.
"What did the parson speak on, Mr Coolidge?"
"Sin"
"What did he say about it?"
"He was against it."
However, when the debate was thrown open to the floor, not all seemed to be in agreement with Coolidge's minister. The gusto with which several speakers "defended" Sin drew adjudicator Bollinger's comment that they seemed to have thought the debate was about sex. O'Brien pointed out that adultery was a sin and certainly real "otherwise we would not spend so much time indulging in it." Ever hopeful Flude admitted that Sin was sometimes imaginary, but could often be achieved, while Larsen affirmed that he found Sin both real and enjoyable.
The debate did get serious in parts. Iorns asked which God was responsible for conflicting moralities, and Dwyer denounced the concept of Sin as an invention of the Priests.
Dwyer: "I am socially progressive."
O'Brien: "In the wrong society."
At an early stage it became obvious that speakers divided into materialists who, like McKinley, thought Sin was a Social concept, and idealists who like Miss Hall thought that it was based on Natural or Divine Law. Few of the materialists however grasped Berthold's contention that a reality such as Truth or Sin can be intangible.
Theologically Christians, Rationalists, and even a stray Pantheist (Lind-Mitchell) mutually disagreed on whether God existed, and if so, whether he had promulgated any Divine Laws.
The close of the debate saw Sin apparently believed in or favoured by most of the Audience, and the motion was defeated 79/36 on the Student vote, and 79/43 on the vote of the whole house. This curious breakup drew the chairman's comment that appearances to the contrary, students apparently were less immoral than outsiders.
Placings: 1, Dent; 2, Middleton; 3, Hogg; 4, Larsen; 5, Dwyer and Bromby; 7, Berthold and Mitchell.
Let me outline the plot of "A Taste of Honey" for you. The heroine was begotten through a haystack encounter between her semi-whore of a mother and a mental case. The daughter is seduced by a Cardiff West Indian and sets up home with a young homosexual art student when her mother runs off with a drunkard. After hearing this you might feel that you are in for quite a tragic evening's entertainment. Not a bit of it. "Taste of Honey" which will be presented by Unity Theatre at the Concert Chamber, Wellington, from April 10-14 is a play shot through with the exuberance of living.
First performed by Theatre Workshop in East Stratford London, the play met with instantaneous success. It was transferred to the West End and ran for two years there before enjoying another long run on Broadway.
Unity Theatre has long been the company which believes in presenting realistic truthful plays of today. In the past five years Wellington theatre-goers have had the opportunity of seeing many briltiant N.Z. premieres. "The Entertainer," "Look Back in Anger," "A View from the Bridge," "The Birthday Party" and "The Hostage" to name but a few.
For this latest Australian Premiere a talented cast has been brought together. Helen Brew, who delighted audiences recently in Baxter's 'Three Women and the Sea" as the snobbish sister, now turns her talent to a woman much lower in the social scale. Jennifer Hogan, Peter Vere-Jones, and David Taylor are all Training College students. The part of Geoff is played by Robin Slessor.
The play should be of special interest to University Students as it is being produced by Ralph McAllister a full-time Arts student. Student concessions can be obtained from the producer, who will frequently be found in the cafeteria.
With "A Taste of Honey," a play full of passion, frankness, and beauty, it looks as if Unity Theatre will score another triumph.
The aim of the Mathematical and Physical Society is to provide a series of general interest talks on mathematical and physical topics. These talks will in general be of such a level as to be understood by Stage I Mathematics or Physics students.
The meetings will be held approximately once a fortnight on Thursday evenings in the first and second terms. All students and others interested will be welcomed. Notices will be placed on the main notice board prior to each meeting giving time and place.
Patrons: Prof. J. T. Campbell, Prof. D. Walker.
President: R. A. I. Bell.
Vice-Presidents: P. T. Coleridge, R. A. Hoare.
Secretary-Treasurer: Miss J. De Lisle.
Committee: J. Hirst, S. Reid, D. Ward.
G. McK. Allcock of D.P.L. Some lightning flashes produce radio signals at audio frequencies which are guided by the earth's magnetic field through the outer atmosphere. From the study of the characteristics of these signals, which are called "Whistlers," one can infer some of the physical properties of the outer atmosphere to distances of several earth's radii. Results of investigations on a global scale during the past few years will be presented and discussed.
Writes Chicago student, Phil Altbach, "There is substantial sentiment over here to go to New Zealand, which will supposedly be free of fallout in case of nuclear war. I understand that some Americans are actually going, or have left. (My own feeling is that if the Bomb comes I might as well be in a primary target area, as I am now.)"
Contributing editor G. L. Evans takes a critical look at some recent exhibitions.
The first two exhibitions of paintings to be reviewed this year are notable collectively for the diversity in their range and style and individually for their utter disparity in quality.
On the one hand we have a large and costly collection entitled "Paintings From The Pacific" which, overtly, was intended to be a representative collection of the type of work painters in the Pacific Basin—Japan, U.S.A., Australia and New Zealand—are indulging in today. This voluminous collection recently on show in Wellington and in other main centres, attracted some considerable interest and controversy. The avowed purpose of the organisers was to see whether the Pacific Basin provided some common characteristic influencing each country's painters.
In my opinion these paintings supposedly representative of the type of art being produced in each country, were no more characteristic than would a collection of children's comics be characteristic of serious literature being produced today in New Zealand. There were, however, a very few works outside the all-pervading abstract and impressionistic style which were very worth seeing.
In the Japanese section the traditional preoccupation with Nature was readily apparent—Chikooka's "Long: Nosed Goblin in the Forest," for example, was a large and interesting canvas. The Australian section showed a marked concern for things of the spirit set against a very Australian background. The New Zealand section was to me extremely disappointing. The only representational and indeed perhaps one of the most lovely in the whole avid show was John Holmwood's "Near Mange re"—a pleasant, subtlely conceived piece of work, distinctive yet with a very New Zealand sense of place about It.
Speaking generally, I would not, for the rest of the New Zealand section and most of the other sections, give the proverbial tin of sardines. Whomsoever was responsible for their selection must have a distorted idea of what is beauty and what is pretentious trash: especially is this seen in the U.S.A. section.
It is with considerable delight that one can review one of the finest small collections of old masters to be seen in Wellington for some time, the Exhibition of paintings lent to the National Art Gallery by the Viscount Cobham.
Comprising eight canvases in all and valued at over £10,000, the maturity and mastery of the various painters stands in sharp contrast to the juvenile dabblings and shallow sophistry of many of the Pacific painters. The most exquisite work to my mind is The Young Christ by the 17th century artist Louis De Boullonge. Radiant and innocent, the Young Christ is pictured in red and blue tunic, his fine brown hair falling over his shoulders. But the skin texture! Very seldom does one see such magic and beauty as this. Exactly the same mastery is found in Van Dyck's "Descent from the Cross" which is a smaller version of the great Antwerp Gallery picture. How very different the Renaissance-like beauty of these canvases is to "the poisoned fruit of one of the worst of spiritual decays", as the great contemporary Annigoni puts it "of the works of the avant-garde fashionable today".
"Lady in Blue" another of Van Dyck's works is masterly handled. There is a lovely still life by Rachel Ruysch entitled "Flower Piece"; two wholly delightful landscapes, one by Italian Francesco Zuccarelli in which great competence is shown with the handling of the foreground; the other "Villa Madama Rome" by Richard Wilson is very reminiscent of Corot. Sir Joshua Reynolds is represented by a portrait of "William Henry Lord Lyttelton" and a 15th century Dutch painter Michael Miereveldt is represented by a portrait.
The skill and loving care and attention to form and detail lavished by all these artists on their works is something New Zealand painters could well strive to emulate. After seeing the recent National Council of Adult Education collection opening the Centre Gallery's Pacific showing, one is even more convinced of that Evelyn Page's still life, Jack Laird's "Adolescence"; Helen Stewart's "Saturday" and Roy Cowan's "Fishing Village" were all of some merit.
Wellington's S. B. Maclennan—the Director of The National Art Gallery—recently won two water-colour competitions. First, the B.N.Z. Mural competition with "Wellington Suburban Garden," a lovely piece of work and second the Hays Art Contest (remember the outcry last year?). Both were £100 prizes. Mr. Maclennan's winning entry, highly praised, was "Shaken and Deserted", which, together with the first work mentioned—the latter being acquired for the National Gallery's permanent collection—we may reproduce in a later issue.
Mr Maclennan is, as I pointed out in reviewing the Kelliher could not but be impressed with his "Akatarawa" which won an award of merit. It is, incidentally, possible that we may see the Hay's collection in Wellington soon.
May—Autumn Academy showing.
August—"Recent British sculpture"—a British Council exhibition at the National Art Gallery with such names as Henry Moore, Hepworth, Chadwick Butler and Armitage. The charming study "Little Girl," by the way, is by a young English sculptor, Sydney Harpley and belongs to the National Gallery.
At the initiative of the Spiritual Regeneration Movement of New Zealand, the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi spoke to a packed Memorial Theatre on Wednesday, March 7. Apparently about four hundred students were sufficiently interested in their spiritual well-being to hear what this Indian mystic had to say.
His entry on to the stage of the auditorium, accompanied by a red rose was sufficiently impressive to obtain the interest of the audience from the outset.
He introduced his theory to the listeners with the claim that his method was one whereby all aspects of life were brightened. It was possible to develop the latent faculties, he claimed. The same life energy is used for Strength, Intelligence, Creativity etc., just as the same electricity runs lamps, drills, etc. Life Energy was centred at the Source of Thought and hence if one could get to this source, one could increase the power of one's thought.
In proving this he used the analogy of a tree, in which if one can get at the roots of the tree and nourish them directly then the tree will be greatly benefited.
He claimed that his method was very simple. One takes a thought devoid of meaning so that the mind is not distracted by any outside influences i.e. by any associations that a word has. Then this thought is gradually reduced back to the origin until the mind is in a state of no thought. This state is different from that where no thought is experienced at the conscious level, as for instance in a dreamless sleep.
He said that this state of mind was beneficial in releasing one from tension, which is the chief cause of unhappiness. Hence if anyone underwent his course they would be in a perpetual state of happiness. His method taught how to look for the source of happiness within oneself and he stressed this point by quoting the passage from the Bible where Jesus states that the Kingdom of Heaven was within oneself.
After speaking for about an hour the Maharishi allowed the audience to ask him questions. A condensed version of the questions and answers follows.
Q.—You stated that children were too young to follow your system. At what age would you say that they should begin?
A.—At 14 or 15 or 17 about.
Q.—Should the pupil be free from mental illness before studying your system ?
A.—Yes.
Q.—What do you encounter when reducing the level of your meaningless thought back to the origin?
A.—You don't encounter any thoughts because these lead to unhappiness and we wish to avoid this.
Q.—What is the process whereby the thought is reduced back to its origin?
A.—The technique varies with the word.
Q.—Can you show us this technique?
A.—There is a danger in doing that.
Q.—Does this word stay constant?
A.—That depends.
Q.—How do you know when you have reached the bottom?
A.—When you can go no further.
Q.—How do you come back to the level of consciousness?
A.—This is automatic as the mind is used to concrete things as opposed to the abstract condition which one is in at the Origin of Thought, and hence it returns to the surface just as a diver returns from a dive.
Q.—Can you describe the state of mind at the Origin?
A.—You are left completely by yourself as if with a featureless sea on all sides of you.
Q.—Have you found anyone who has not responded to your treatment?
A.—Yes.
Q.—How much does it cost?
A.—Nothing to students but their parents must expect to share the cost.
Q.—Is your system a system of Yoga?
A.—Yes.
Q.—Then how is it related to other forms of Yoga?
A.—Yoga systems all aim at getting the Self into a state of abstraction, some do it by breathing, others by exercises, but my system is much easier to master for the same end result.
Q.—You say that you had undergone training in the various systems of Yoga before you discovered this system of yours. Would not this training have made it easier for you to attain this state of abstraction?
A.—No.
Q.—Can you justify that?
A.—It is like a man who tends a rose for months with great care then presents it to me. I say, could I not have enjoyed the rose without having had to wait six months.
Some student opinion about the Maharishi.
1st year Science student:—
My general attitude was one of considerable scepticism, due to his inability to explain his philosophy in terms prone to logical and scientific examination. By this I mean that his argument is too much like a philosophy of the evolution of man which can be partly proven but which is greatly interwoven with hypotheses.
Junior lecturer Mathematics:—
Too keen to explain but not keen enough to describe.
4th year Arts Student:—
It would be presumptuous on my part to write off the efficacy of meditation—still I don't reckon I can tap a great source of infinite bliss deep down inside me by means of a peculiar noise. It's just too simple. Ex nihil, nihil fecit.. I don't think that the Maharishi is a crook—he won't do any harm, he may do some good. Spiritual regeneration is a lovely idea, but I fear that I must remain a sceptic.
2nd year Arts:—
By a series of false analogies, the Maharishi attempted to convince his listeners that his system would remove all our anxieties. The means of attaining this bliss were all too dubious for my liking. Perhaps the whole system is just a figment (conscious) of the Maharishi's conscious imagination.
3rd year Law:—
I think that he is a fake. I cannot see how he got to this origin of thought.
4th year Commerce:—
I think that he had something to offer but he did not produce it. He certainly had quite an effective way of presenting his method. However, I think that it appears as if he had an ulterior motive.
4th year Arts:—
A charming personality, but his "message" was most disappointing. What he said could have been reduced to a few sentences. For all those students who were genuinely interested in Yoga, the lecture was most uninformative and only served to dampen any enthusiasm they may have originally had.
3rd year Arts:—
I think that the Maharishi under-estimated the intellectual capacity of his audience and he prejudiced his cause by an hour of introductory drivel. I can appreciate that his method depends on the individual and thus cannot be described in any detail. I would not presume to dismiss him as a fake but I remain unconvinced that his ideas are valid.
4th year Law student:—
The Maharishi is clearly a brilliant man who sincerely believes, and apparently has proved, that he has found a method which will reduce everyday tensions. This lecture gave no immediate answer. It merely opened the door for those who were interested to enter. His method was original and a little bewildering, and, for that reason alone, many students must have doubts as to its effectiveness. But it is clear that there are no grounds for criticism until the method has been tried individually.
Sir,—'While making enquiries for a friend I happened to discover that the yoga instruction given by the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, now in Wellington, costs something like £15. Anyone for Yoga?—Yours, etc.
The first meeting for
Don't hesitate to come in when you are late; the club is very informal and anyone is welcome any time.
The evening began with a welcome to new members and old from Mike Hinsch and a short discussion on the organisation and aims of the club. We then listened to several fine recordings including "Death and Transfiguration" Strauss, Porgy and Bess, Cappriccio Italione, Tschaikovsky and Rhapsody in Blue, Gershwin, and the evening concluded with coffee.
The next meetings are to be held on Thursday 22, Thursday 29, and thereafter, every Wednesday night, in the Women's Common Room, 7.30 p.m. If you would like to help with choice of programmes, please contact the secretary. Otherwise, anyone is welcome to bring their records along to any meeting.
Secretary.
I hate to be kept waiting. When I was ushered into the presence of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, I had been waiting for three and a half hours, sitting in a dark and narrow corridor. I was bored, irritated and sceptical.
Just over an hour later I was ushered out again. I felt calm, relaxed and full of energy.
Meantime for the price of an afternoon, six flowers, three pieces of fruit, a white handkerchief and a week's wages (net), I had been initiated into the Maharishi's method of meditation, and yoga.
The Maharishi is a small, unprepossessing Indian with greasy hair. His most arresting feature is a placid face. He wears a plain white robe of some sort, a couple of strings of beads, and bare feet. His voice is thin, soft and, high-pitched, and he ends each line with a squeaky little upward inflection.
He was flanked by an organisation named the Spiritual Regeneration Movement, consisting of a number of youngish people, several of whom are known to many students.
The initiation ceremony was comparatively simple. After we had sorted out sacrificial offerings into the correct piles, where the envelopes containing the "week's wages" were completely anonymous, the Maharishi entered and began the ritual.
After a candle had been lit, he offered flowers (presumably symbolic of all the sacrifices we were making) to a large picture of his "master", hanging above the altar.
We stood in attitudes varying from awe to stupor as he muttered quietly, making motions with the candle, lighting a joss-stick, burning some incense-like substance in a silver vessel decorated with a swastika, and finally prostrating himself before the altar.
When he rose his face was bland. He told us to leave the room and we would be called back individually to receive a word on which to meditate.
In the next room, I sat in my place in the uniform rows of chairs set facing a plain pink wall, and waited. I could hear hushed movement and whispering going on behind me as my fellow-initiates were received one by one.
When my turn came, the Maharishi motioned co me to sit down next to him. There was a short silence, then he said, so quietly I could barely hear him, "You will say this after me: hanginimah".
I said hanginimah. I continued to say it for about a minute.
"Under your breath," he said then. I repeated it under my breath.
"Now mentally, with your eyes closed."
I obeyed, only squinting furtively at him for a moment to see what he was doing. He had his eyes closed also, but I had the feeling that he was aware of my glance.
Finally he said, "Now you will go outside and continue to repeat the word mentally, letting it come and go without effort, never forcing It to remain in your mind."
The next initiate hurried in and I was shown out.
In the outer room filled with rows of chairs, I deliberately sat in front of an open window. The cold fresh air was slightly tinged with the smell of fish and chips floating up from a nearby restaurant, and this combination effectively blotted out the gusts of thick, incense-laden air which escaped from the Maharishi's office each time the door was opened.
I closed my eyes and thought of hanginimah.
The next thing I remember, the Maharishi was standing over us asking how we felt. I said truthfully that I felt relaxed. I felt as though I had been there for hours, although it had only been about fifteen minutes: maybe I fell asleep.
The Maharishi had to go; he had a lecture to give. I heard him say to one of the girls at the desk, "They will meditate for ten minutes in that room, then go home," rather as a soup manufacturer might say "Bring to the boil and simmer". I had to go too, but the rest of my group was led into the inner room to finish meditating.
As I passed the Maharishi, I noticed that for street-wear he had wrapped a piece of brown cloth around his white robe and was pressing a large yellow dahlia to his chest.
The cool air of the street revived me enough to let me analyse my feelings. I was peaceful yet alert—perhaps because my duty was completed? I also felt tremendously, unusually energetic—which could, I suppose, be caused by an afternoon of sitting still.
On a personal questionnaire we had filled out before the ceremony, we were asked what we hoped to receive from the meditation. They suggested peace of mind, self-realisation, and development of latent faculties. I checked self-realisation, feeling like a four-year old asking Santa for a locomotive.
I am convinced of this, at any rate, that whatever else the experience meant to me, it did not hold any element of self-realisation.
Possibly I did not persevere long enough ... Possibly I was not in a suitable frame of mind. It was made clear to us, in any case, that we could follow up the initiation with further experiences if we wished.
The others in the group ranged from sceptics to deeply-convinced advocates of the Maharishi's philosophy. One woman tucked fourteen pounds into her white envelope and carried six expensive blooms; there were also two men who sacrificed a pound each and confided that they had found their sacrificial flowers on a vacant lot on the Terrace.
It is likely that the woman who had sacrificed quite a lot actually did gain more from the initiation end meditation than the two men, who were evidently collectors of this sort of thing. It is sure that the hours of waiting and the money served as a deterrent to many of the more light-hearted and idly curious.
Candidly, I went along to decide whether this thing was a fraud or a genuine religious and philosophical mission.
I thought that the weekly wages bit was rather indicative of the former, and then this opinion was reinforced by the very evident interest displayed in the approximate income of the initiates by both the Maharishi and the Spiritual Regeneration Movement. I now think that the money serves a practical purpose as an integral part of the mental preparation for the meditation. It is also, however, a very lucrative little business, from someone's point of view. What happpens to these funds? I would even like to know what happens to the fruit, and to the white handkerchiefs.
For myself, I am extremely happy that weekly wages are nonexistent.
"Self-orientation in the University"—a topical address for the first S.C.M. meeting this year—Speaker: Rev. John Murray, University Chaplain.
"The confusion on starting University, is necessary, to find ourselves. When we come to University it is the big break in our lives. Here we are faced with freedom," said Mr Murray. "There is a real connection between freedom and self-orientation—without the former we cannot become mature adults. This freedom, which is the nature of the University, leads to tremendous opportunities on the one hand, and tremendous dangers on the other."
"This is to be used to enquire as far as possible into one's own subject, and to interest oneself in what others are doing," stated Mr Murray. "We are here to love God with our minds." "Be curious!" he said. "Think about the theories and ideas we are presented with."
"However, don't have such an open mind that a conclusion is never reached. This is the second form of intellectual dishonesty."
"In the light of the Christian faith, the aim of this is self-control and not withdrawal," said Mr Murray. "It applies to our time, our money, our bodies and our relationships with other people.
"Sex is in many ways the most difficult aspect of self-control for a student. But from experimenting with sex and drink can come guilt, and instead of freedom, students become slaves to their consciences."
"Having broken away from our local Church we are here free to do something with our faith, to look at it honestly, to look at other Churches. Will your old beliefs be adequate to answer to your needs?" asked Mr Murray.
"Again, withdrawal is not the answer to difficulties. Doubts should be faced up to honestly. Go and see someone who has shared the same experience!"
"Freedom," reiterated Mr Murray, "is the right to grow. It does not mean we have no master, but may choose the best. For a Christian, in mind, body and soul the proper use of freedom is choosing God as the master, under whom we will grow up."
"Here we have the freedom to bring all our life into accord with the mind of Christ. This deeper freedom is not the freedom to choose our own way, but freedom from self," said Mr Murray.
This seemed the attitude of a large number. I watched them. Bored 2nd Years, eyeing the cyclostyled barrage at Stud. Assn. enrolment table.
"What's all this stuff?"
"Religious clubs' questionnaire"
"What next!"
Some politely refused cards. Others accepted long-sufferingly.
Some laughed, "I'm not interested in that stuff."
"Not me!"
I wonder why not?
Why laugh God off?—like a bad dream. Perhaps you didn't laugh. Lots didn't. But you just Ignored the idea all the same. "Religious clubs.' So what?
Maybe you are an atheist. A few said they were. At least you've got convictions (that is, if you're honest.) But if you wouldn't go so far as to call yourself an atheist, then what are you? Probably an honest quiet little student, busy acquiring a degree. This will help you to express yourself and absorb some knowledge, and (best of all, perhaps) get you a better job, which is handy if you plan to get married sooner or later. You will then be able to support your loving wife and kiddies. Also make some sort of a contribution towards decency and respectability in your community. And you'll retire in due course, on an independent income, and watch the world go on from a comfortable armchair.
This assumes, of course, that you will live to old age, and remain in good health. And that you'll enjoy your wife's company, and not divorce her. And that you will rear decent children, and not delinquents. And that your society's economy remains favourable, and so on.
But this has a "life is real, man. life is earnest" beat about it. Why not? Surely students more than anyone cannot be excused for day-dreaming. New Zealanders may be unique. Students in Berlin, Hong Kong, or Washington, are perhaps different. Not that they all turn to God, to seek a security for the future. But those who do turn to Him find what they're after. Even here in New Zealand.
"Escapism", you'll stigmatise it. Certainly, the great escape, if you're not too proud to try it.
So God still has a place, even this year, at Vuw. Not only for the "religious club" types, but for all students, if they'll look for Him.
"Anyone who comes to God must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who search for Him."
So says the Bible. (You may not like the Billy Graham touch; but let's face it. how many people honestly disbelieve the old Book?)
Take my advice—Don't "give up" any rudiments of religion you picked up in earlier years. Give them the treatment they deserve, from a mature student mind; an honest examination, and a humble readiness to become committed to what you find.
Don't put off the search. If you can bear the thought of joining a religious club you may be more likely to find help, for it is the tremendous privilege of Christian students to show their fellows the way to God.
You are about to be informed of a sad case of mental physical and moral degeneration. Never in the history of this institution of grasping ivy and rotting brick has such a pitiful example come to the notice of the dedicated Salient staff.
From a certain room in the S.U.B. staggered forth an emaciated figure, only to collapse into the arms of a beautiful Salient reporter. ("Damn" said the editor, "a perfect stranger, and I've been trying for weeks.").
After the application of restoratives this unfortunate cast aside from the brutal way of authority, managed to croak out his story. (Gazing the meanwhile into the teardimmed eyes of his luscious benefactor).
I started in a sane condition (pause). Then they threw a sheet of incomprehensible instructions at me and forced me to begin climbing a crowded and torturous stairway. Halfway I leant over the balcony to rest but finally came to the conclusion that I had better wait until the enraged screams from below died down before I went back to collect the satchel I had dropped.
Having climbed to the terrible height required I joined a long queue of young giants who looked at me with pitying stares as I squeezed my way to the end of nowhere to begin solitary confinement No. 1 (long pause for visual recuperation).
I finally came within sight of the desk where it appeared that the waste paper of the last decade of university administration was being distributed. I began to object and promptly received a mouthful of sharp cornered cards. (At this point the poor fellow made gasping sounds and sank even further into the warm compassionate embrace of our reporter.)
When I had regurgitated the material so generously provided I felt obliged to imitate those around me and put my mark in the appropriate places—having decided to take "Extrav" stage I and "Methods of Entertainment stage 2".
I got the gardener to sign my course card and proceeded with renewed lightness of heart to what I now realise were cremation ovens in the S.U.B.
You would have thought that such a painful process as now came my way could have been completed with some degree of alacrity—not so.
After being ejected several times from hard-won chairs I found that no more information, relevant or irrelevant could be fitted on my forms. I joined the inevitable queue for solitary confinement No. 2 (long luxurious pause).
Finally I stood before the throne of the almighty who proceeded to deface my forms until I was sure my livelihood for the rest of my working (?) days had been signed over to the government. As a final degradation, just as I reached for my form I received a bone-breaking blow on the back of my hand by a rubber stamp.
I didn't give him a chance to do better with a branding iron and managed to overturn the checker's table in my flight. Then came the addition ...
And there ended our story and it took nearly an hour of most earnest persuasion before our female reporter could ascertain what novel method of disposal our informer had used to get rid of the collection of literature made through the last chambers of this man-made hades. His solution ... "you take one of those wicker baskets ... shove the paper inside and light a match ..."
Jack Clayton, director of Room at the Top, could not possibly have chosen a more different subject for his second feature than Henry James' ghost story "The Turn of the Screw." His transition from contemporary to gothic is not a particularly happy one for his treatment of James' minor classic is not only stereotyped but is stilted and predictable.
It is not that The Innocents makes any major changes in James' plot or is even unfaithful to his mood or intention. It is just that the treatment lets it down—what is believable in print becomes somewhat hard to swallow when demonstrated concretely before us. The suspension of disbelief becomes even harder when the machinery utilised to evoke it is so out-worn by repetition as to have become a cliche.
In his notebook, dated Saturday, January 12, 1895, James made the following entry:
"Note here the ghost-story told me at Addington (evening of Thursday 10th), by The Archbishop of Canterbury: The mere vague, undetailed, faint sketch of it—being all he had been told (very badly and imperfectly), by a lady who had no art of relation, and no clearness; the story of the young children (indefinite number and age) left to the care of servants in an old country-house, through the death, presumably, of parents. The servants, wicked and depraved, corrupt and deprave the children; the children are bad, full of evil, to a sinister degree. The servants die (the story vague about the way of it) and their apparitions, figures, return to haunt the house and children, to whom they seem to beckon, whom they invite and solicit, from across dangerous places, the deep ditch of a sunk fence, etc. So that the children may destroy themselves, lose themselves, by responding, by getting in their power. So long as the children are kept from them, they are not lost; but they try and try and try, these evil presences, to get hold of them. It is a question of the children coming over to where they are! It is all obscure and imperfect, the picture, the story, but there is a suggestion of strangely gruesome effect in it. The story to be told—tolerably obviously—by an outside spectator, observer."
When he gave the story its final form, James made the apparitions the ghosts of Quint and Miss Jessel and the protector of the children Miles and Flora a governess, Miss Giddens.
The key expression in the above passage is "obscure and imperfect." Most of James' story is hints, evasions and suggestions (as indeed all the best ghost stories from Le Fanu to the latest science fiction are) and the best aid in frightening anyone is that person's own imagination. It is not the devil you know is there that frightens you but the devil that might be there. James had illuminating remarks to make on this very point with reference to The Turn of the Screw:
"Only make the reader's general vision of evil intense enough ... and his own experience, his own imagination, his own sympathy (with the children) and horror (of their false friends) will supply him quite sufficiently with all the particulars. Make him think the evil, make him think it for himself, and you are released from weak specifications."
Miss Giddens has her first premonition of something unnatural in the household when the girl, Flora, mentions that her brother, Miles, is coming home from boarding school. This incident, one which could be explained quite rationally, is blown up into something that hits the viewer between the eyes and makes him exclaim "Ah, that's significant!" The ghosts themselves are shown melodramatically with the full use of trickery and special camera effects. When Miss Giddens sees the figure of Quint on the tower, there is no air of unease in the occurrence as such, so it has to be injected into the scene artificially with the aid of a double exposure of drifting fog and soaring frightened doves, a halolike radiance appearing over the governess' features and oscillations on the sound track. Under such a mass of impedimenta the encounter falls completely flat.
In direct contrast, when she sees the figure of Miss Jessel dressed in black and standing in pouring rain across the lake, the very simplicity of the scene gives one the uneasy sensation that is so missing from the rest of the governess' encounters with the apparitions. When miss Giddens makes her long trek, candelbra in hand, through the empty house, the gimmickry again distracts—there is so much noise, special effects and musique concrete on the sound track that any suspense is soon dissipated. How much more effective to have used just silence and the odd natural sound.
This is not to say that there are not moments when one is suddenly startled—even dishonestly. Two obvious examples spring to mind, both dependent on shock cutting. The first is when a close up of Miss Giddens' face is followed abruptly by a close up of Flora splashing in the bath, and the second is that time-worn but still favourite device, the windows that crash open suddenly with an inrush of wind and rain and a billowing of the curtains. (I wonder if this shock cutting is becoming a habit of British films—there were flagrant examples in The Angry Silence and Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, for example.)
There are also some dissatisfyingly loose ends in the story line also—the animal cries of pain from the garden at odd times, the dove with the broken neck, and Miles' walking in the garden late at night "to make Miss Giddens think he can be bad for a change." Are these tied in with the main story or are they simply red herrings? And what happens to Flora when she drives away with Mrs. Grose after her attack of hysteria—does the apparition of Miss Jessel allow her to go quietly after all or will she follow? (and so on).
The fault that really breaks the picture's back though is the dialogue. James' story was told in diary form, and this has meant that practically all the conversations have had to be invented. This is all very well and unavoidable, but why did the speech have to be in such a stilted and unwieldy form? Even if Miles is being coached by an apparition, some of his Latin-structured sentences are so involved and unwieldy that he has to concentrate very hard just to get them out, let alone give any expression to them. The children's acting is, taken all round, unsatisfying—not because the characters display an unnatural knowingness (they should) but because the actors playing the characters display a smug awareness of their charade behind the facade.
Michael Redgrave hams it up for his few minutes on screen at the very beginning of the film and then vanishes never to return; the best acting comes from Megs Jenkins as the housekeeper. Deborah Kerr looks the part as a governess but such a sustained performance as is needed here is beyond her power. (I did like, however, her look of startled surprise when young Miles, bidding her goodnight, kisses her fully on the lips in an adult way. A satisfying close-up here, even if predictable.)
I'm sorry that the sinking feeling engendered by the arty arty simple folk song and pretentious titles opening the film is fully justified by the disappointment that follows—it would be nice to be able to praise the film for its good intentions alone.
(Henry James' The Turn of the Screw has been interpreted as an outpouring of the children's governess narrating the story, a fantasy resulting from her neurotic repression. This is her first position, she is obviously virginal, from a country parsonage, etc., etc., but James himself treated the story as cold fact and the demonic possession as actually having taken place. Clayton has also adopted this straightforward viewpoint in the film, though in this case it might have been more rewarding if there had been a hint of more than a trifle of mental unbalance in Miss Giddens' perception).
Produced and directed by Jack Clayton.
Screenplay by William Archibald and Truman Capote.
Director of Photography, Freddie Francis.
Editor, James Clark.
Art Director, Wilfrid Shingleton.
Music by George Auric.
20th Century Fox, British, Cine-mascope, 100 minutes.
From the amount of advance publicity lavishly scattered around the city, I had hoped that Cinema Week was going to feature some outstanding and offbeat films. But to an unbiassed observer, it seems that it is just a name tacked on to a week of ordinary releases. No one could believe that Exodus, The Queen's Guard, Fanny, The Innocents, The Outsider, and The Day The Earth Caught Fire constitute outstanding entertainment. The Paramount holds out hope with Julien Duvivier's House of Lovers, an adaptation of Zola's Pot-Bouille, but I suspect the "Cinema Week" of being nothing more than an afterthought on someone's part.
In Auckland, the Arts festival showed Bergman's The Magician and The Virgin Spring. The Sanders directed Crime and Punishment, U.S.A. is due for early release and Two Women is screening. Why couldn't we have had these instead?
For the half-dozen students interested in such things, the visit of the "Old Vic" Theatre Company was of very great significance. For most of us it was the first opportunity to see a world-class theatre company. This was, therefore, not only a valuable experience in itself, but also an introduction to world theatre standards, and some sort of guide to the standard of local productions.
The most obvious general criticism is that these were productions more appropriate to the 'thirties than to the 'sixties. There was no hint, here, of John Osborne or Harold Pinter, of Peter Hall or Franco Zeffirelli, of Sean Kenny, of Vanessa Redgrave or Ian Bannen. These were definitely productions of the dramatic Establishment. This, of course, is not surprising since it is what we associate with the "Old Vic"; neither is it completely inappropriate in this country, perhaps, since New Zealand often finds itself some thirty years behind the times.
The second criticism is, perhaps, a corollary of the first. This is the exploitation of the "star" system and the consequent peculiar choice of plays. The Lady of the Camellias in particular, can be justified on no other grounds, and it seems strange that an English touring company should present two French plays to their Antipodean cousins.
None, however, could quibble about the choice of Twelfth Night, surely one of the most delightful, and stageworthy comedies of the Shakespearean canon. Judged on its own terms (those of the Establishment) the production was quite acceptable. It was straightforward, without gimmicks, and showed some vitality and a good sense of timing.
The set was a little too like a birthday cake, and the actors, in costumes more representative of seventeenth century France than of Elizabethan England, were even more over-dressed than the stage. There is some excuse for such splendour, however, in such a sunny comedy and there was no sense of gaudiness. The total visual effect was pleasantly reminiscent of a Poussin landscape.
Robert Helpmann, the producer, made good use of the set, He alternated between beautifully-balanced tableaux for the Cesario—Olivia—Orsino scenes and a lively fluidity in the clowning scenes. The actions of Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian in Malvolio's letter scene were particularly amusing, and this scene was consequently one of the highlights of the night.
On the debit side it is difficult to understand Helpmann's reversal of the first two scenes. Shakespeare has been careful to set the play's tone with the Duke's opening speech ("If music be the food of love ..."), and to replace it with the storm scene gives a totally wrong impression.
As a whole the production smacked of the commonplace, but this is probably better than the forced striving for originality which is reported to be marring English productions of Shakespeare.
It was in Twelfth Night that many of the actors appeared at their best. John Merivale, the company's "leading man," made a delightful Sir Andrew Aguecheek (but why the lisp?), and Frank Middlemass a splendidly bucolic Sir Toby Belch. (It was Merivale, however, who did the belching, and what a resonant, connoisseur's blurp it was!). Together, these two provided some of the best scenes of the play.
Acting honours of the night go, however, to Basil Henson, whose Malvolio lacked some haughtiness in his first scene, but after that could scarcely be faulted. His approach to the part was a sympathetic one which brought out the pathos as well as the ridiculousness of this character, and presented a picture of Malvolio which, I am sure, will colour my reaction whenever I re-read the play.
Sally Home as Olivia combined beauty with considerable talent, and her maid, Maria, was well played by Patricia Raine. Maria's combination of naivety and cunning, and her dual relationships to her mistress and the drunken knights was skilfully played. Congratulations must also go to Paul Harris (Orsino) if only because he managed to up-stage Miss Leigh on two separate occasions.
Disappointment of the performance was Vivien Leigh, the muchheralded "star." That she drummed out her lines in a deadly monotone is all the more unfortunate because she possesses a splendid voice. In the same way, her natural gracefulness of movement was never related to the character she was meant to portray. One was left with the impression of unrealised potentialities—physical advantages without the technique to use them.
Finally, mention must be made of Mark Kingston, as Feste, the clown. This was a lesson Miss Leigh could note, of how a voice should be used. Even as a singer, Mr Kingston was quite successful despite a tendency to cut short the last note of a phrase, thus spoiling the delicate melodic lines. I do not know what version of the "O Mistress Mine" melody he used, but it fitted the words less perfectly than that from Morley's First Book of Consort Lessons, standardised by Alfred Deller.
In the background effective use was made of "Callino Castore Me," and another Elizabethan melody which was cleverly used as a leitmotiv for Orsino and his court. This was an object lesson for local producers in the use of incidental music.
With the Dumas play came an interesting see-saw of talents. While most of the company sank to mediocrity, Vivien Leigh rose to mediocrity, and things evened out considerably.
As I hinted above, the only possible reason to produce this trivial piece is the fact that there is only one real character in it, and she must, almost inevitably, hit the audience in the face. This time she did not. The play has been described as a virtuoso piece for the leading actress. The "Old Vic" turned it into a concerto for diarrhoeic costume-designer with "theatrical" accompaniment.
Little more can, or should, be said. Most of the actors were obviously embarrassed with the material they were called upon to use. To describe John Merivale's Armand Duval as far below his Sir Andrew is more complimentary to his taste than condemnatory of his talent. The producer, too, seemed to be uncomfortable, and the switching of stage sides when Armand and Marguerite were alone resembled some farcical square dance.
The only person who seemed to be at home was Miss Leigh.
After the miscarriage of The Lady it is pleasant to report a successful Duel. The curtain rose on tableau Imitating Seurat's "Sunday on the Grand Jatte." This eye-catching opening was not wasted; once our attention was gained, it was held.
Giraudoux has created here one of the most beautiful of twentieth century plays. Its general tone, and in particular, the combination of the serious with the comic, recalls only Bergman's film, "Smiles of a Summer Night," despite the difference of themes and presentation. Much of the play's effectiveness is due to the splendidly theatrical rhythms of Fry's translation which match beautifully the equally splendid rhythm of the structure as a whole.
It was this latter rhythm, the carefully Judged balance of part against part, which was most notable in this production. Helpmann surpassed himself and I do not remember seeing another play so beautifully shaped. Each scene was shaped well In Itself and fitted neatly into the pattern of the whole. To take the first act as an example, the use of long pauses at the beginning was courageous and profoundly justifiable. The gradual speeding up of pace had all the gathering tension created by the entry of parts in a fugue, and the separation of Paola and Armand which climaxed the scene was speeded up like an exciting stretto. The whole was punctuated by the silent appearance and disappearance of the cafe crowd, which caused a sort of darkening and lightening effect, an alternation between miid claustrophobia and the relief which follows it.
All this had the effect of raising theatre to the level of abstract art, white retaining its "message-carrying" function (in this case a conflict of vice and virtue). Much of it must be attributed to Giraudoux himself, but Helpmann, too, deserves his credit. This production showed unusual accord between playwright and director. The play's weakness is excessive wordiness, especially in Acts I and III, but the skilful placing of dialogue avoided monotony, and there was mercifully none of the "square dancing" noted earlier.
Obviously Helpmann could not have achieved this success without the co-operation of the actors and they must also be congratulated therefore although it must have required the external eye of the producer to create the total effect. In point of fact the actors, as a whole, were somewhat disappointing and robbed the production of the final polish which might have made it near-perfect.
This stricture does not apply to Sally Home, who had already shown signs of her remarkable ability as Olivia in Twelfth Night. As Lucille ("Virtue") she combined physical beauty with poignancy and wistfulness perfectly suited to the role. In many scenes Vivien Leigh was obviously leaning on Miss Home's support.
Basil Henson, too, turned in an excellent characterisation of Count Marcellus ("Vice."). The subtle attractiveness of the character was usually nicely balanced against its complementary repulsiveness.
Vivien Leigh, as Poala, the woman attracted to "Vice," was again disappointing, and one could only be pleased that she was in the less important female role. John Merivale played Armand, the man attracted to "Virtue." Although he was more at home than in The Lady, he was still a little awkward in his stance, and failed to catch the finer points of character, so that Armand became more abstract than individual.
To sum up, what have we gained from the visit of "Old Vic"? We have seen a good production, a quite good one, and a dismal one. We have the names of a few good actors to remember (Sally Home, Basil Henson, Patricia Raine). We have seen some fine individual performances (Frank Middlemass's Sir Toby, John Merivale's Sir Andrew, Mark Kingston's Feste). We have learnt, perhaps, not to underestimate local productions. Above all, we have had ample evidence of the fallibility of the "star" system.
Despite one good production, and some excellent moments in another, the total impression left by the company is staid conventionality. There is little of the artistic adventure about these programmes and one is not surprised that the under thirties are branching out in new directions in the English Theatre. It would be a pity if we were to miss out on this young adventure, and I hope that local producers will not be overwhelmed by the financial success of the "Old Vic."
I can't think of one Record Society release in the classical field which has been less than very good, while most of them have been excellent. I wonder if it is a matter of policy to release only the cream of past overseas records? Good luck to them anyway.
Prokofief. Piano Concertos, Nos. 1 and 3. Mourn Lympany (piano) and the Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by Walter Susskind. Rz 6013.
This is easily the best coupling of these two works yet to appear—in fact, the only one. I used to have the Katchen version of the third, on Decca, but the interpretation by Lympany wipes the floor with it, especially when recording is taken into account as well.
The chance to hear the First concerto, a rara avis indeed, shows that it fits well into the Tchaikovsky, Greig, Rachmaninoff sequence, with the little bit of forward looking spice added that these don't have.
It is an engaging work and should present no difficulties to the progress-fearful listener. Both these works are, of course, written in Prokofief's most accessible style and in this sparkling record can hardly fail to win friends and influence musical diehards.
Schubert. Quartet No. 14, in D Minor, (Death and the Maiden) D.810. The Hollywood String Quartet. Rz 6016.
A superbly simple but striking sleeve first draws one's attention and the format of the record is matched by the performance—meticulous and clean, simple and direct. This is not a "no-nonsense" approach but simply a refusal to oversentimentalise the music. Whether you feel it to be a bit cold or slick will depend on your approach to the Hollywood group's playing generally. I found it most satisfying. The recording is not the widest in range I have ever heard, but is pleasant and warm and very easy to listen to. If not the best available, it is still well above average. The surfaces are quiet.
Mahler. Symphony No. 4, in G Major. Emmy Loose (Soprano), The Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by Paul Kletzki. Rz 6017.
Now that Bruno Walter's performance on Lp has been deleted (it was a transfer from 78s) we are left wondering if there is a new version tucked away awaiting release. Even though Mahler and Walter are inevitably linked together, any new release will have to be superlative indeed to match or excel Kletzki's performance. The Philharmonia's playing is superlative (of this reading, Lionel Salter said "one of his finest performances that orchestra has ever given" and he was right). Emmy Loose does not perhaps capture the air of childish innocence in the soprano part of the last movement, but that is neither here nor there when compared with the general excellence of this release.
Schumann. Piano Concerto in A Minor, Op. 54. Van Cliburn (piano) and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra conducted by Fritz Reiner. Rca. Rsl 3611.
Van Cliburn's performance of the Tchaikovsky piano concerto seems to have gone to the top of the classical hit parade. I have my doubts as to whether this one will though, for though the pianist has the urgency and attack where needed, he has not the similarly required subtlety and tenderness. He appears reluctant to admit that this is, after all, a Romantic concerto, and underplays the warmth—in an attempt to give the work extra weight perhaps?
The accompaniment by the Chicago Symphony is good but the typmanist is caught napping in the first movement and the clarinet tone is not ideal. The format is also too expensive for my taste—why the record is released here as a twelve inch and in England as a ten-inch is beyond me. There should have been a fillup included, or even another concerto. (When there are sixteen other versions of the concerto from which to choose, this Is liable to disqualify the new contender immediately). My personal choice would be for Richter-Haase and the Vienna Symphony Orchestra under Rudolf Moralt.
Beethoven. Symphony No. 7 in A Minor, Op. 92. The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Sir Thomas Beecham. World Record, Tz 152.
I can't understand the "Gramophone" reviewer's disparaging remarks about this issue. He complains about the "ridiculous" speed of the First Movement, lack of tension from bar 400 on, the main theme of the Last Movement just "rattling away merrily without a scrap of nervous energy," sloppy playing by the oboe (indeed the whole wood-wind section), a lack of rhythmic precision in the trio and the poor balance of the recording.
Well, I wonder if he was listening to the same issue as I did? Because I can't see these faults my self—I think this is a very fine issue and cannot find any of the above flaws in the record. He claimed further that the sound was so shrill that no amount of top cut would rectify it and could not recommend the record from any point of view. I tried it on three different lots of gear and it sounded pretty good on all three. The sound was rich, full and round and the people with whom I compared notes were quite pleased with the performance. If it hasn't the nervous tension of Toscanini's inter pretations (and the Maestro did tend to overdue it at times) it is still a very sound one and I think it compares favourably with any of the other versions available. I have not heard the stereo as yet (I believe that this is a different per performance) but will report on it when it is available.
Berlioz. Le Carnaval Romain—Overture. Liszt. Les Preludes—Symphonic Poem. Respighi. Pini di Roma—Symphonic Poem. The Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by Herbert Von Karajan. World Record, Tz 153.
If The Pines of Rome is not the minor masterpiece that Respighi apologists claim it to be, it still has some pleasant passages in it. Karajan makes some of the overblown parts enjoyable for their own sake, as a demonstration of overpowering orchestral sound, and gives the quieter sections the appropriate tenderness. Similarly, in the Liszt he keeps the music moving agreeably and keeps something in reserve for the climax—the big tune. The bangs on the drums sound impressively through the orchestral texture and the soloists are on top form.
The cor anglais solo in Carnaval Romain is excellent and recorded in proper balance against the orchestra—for a change. A stunning performance of the overture generally, and I think that the complete disc is the best collection of these warhorses I have yet heard.
At the A.G.M. of the V.U.W. Music Society on Wednesday, 14 March, the programme for
These students were replaced respectively by Jenny McLeod and Murray Brown, and were highly commended by the Professor on their excellent leadership during the past two years.
After the close of the meeting, the concert proper commenced with a comparatively impressive performance of the Palestrina "Missa Brevis". "Comparatively", meaning that it was a considerable achievement that a work of this nature could be presented in such a competent manner so early in the year. Warren Bourne, who displayed a knowledge of the idiom but lacked some sense of movement and phrasing, was a capable conductor. It is heartening to find that this choir will continue its existence throughout the year, for it possesses great potential.
Margaret Nielsen, lecturer in the Music Department, gave an authoritative and meaningful performance of Douglas Lilburn's Sonatina for Piano (
A fine student singer, Nelson Wattle (baritone), accompanied by Colleen Rae, provided a change in mood with four songs by Schubert. His artistry is a great asset to Varsity music concerts.
Another student performance was the Beethoven Serenade in D, Op. 8 for String Trio, played competently by Graham Hancox (violin), Bob Tait (viola) and Donald Best (cello). But for a concert following such a long meeting, this work was ill-chosen, particularly as it demands considerable musicianship and is of 25-minute duration. Al though in some places the trio's intonation was faulty, there were other portions of the performance which showed a fine sense of team work.
I am sure that Prof. Page's interest in the new executive will not be unfounded, but students may judge for themselves at the Society's next concert, which will be held on Wednesday, March 28, in the Music Room. A special invitation is extended to all Freshers interested in music and the Music Department.
What is wrong with students at Vic? Why did they absent themselves to such a large degree during Orientation week? Where were the 1000 freshers who, had they been well advised would have attended these functions.
Here is an approximate number of those who attended the Orientation functions:—
Welcome to the University, 250; Gymnasium Evening, 150 (most of whom, however, were senior students!); Church Service, 75; Film Society Evening, 150; Debating Club Evening, 170; Jazz Club Evening, 150; Commerce Faculty Evening, 70 (6 staff members); Arts Faculty Evening, 60 (6 staff members); Science Faculty Evening, 45 (15 staff members); Monday night Dance, 400; Tuesday night Dance 280.
These figures are a startling illustration of the apathetic attitude of most Vic Students. The numbers attending the dances were good, but surely the welcome, and the gymnasium display deserved better attendances than they recorded when it is realised that they preceded the dances.
The film, debating, and jazz club evenings all drew a fair sized crowd, but here again there was room to accommodate three times these numbers. If the above functions can be glossed over as drawing a reasonable number, then the faculty evenings can only be said to be very poorly attended (to put it mildly). In fact the complete absence of senior students, and the poor representation of freshers was damnably appalling. Agreed the faculty evenings are archaic (and word is around that many staff members and senior students are thinking along the lines of departmental evenings next year), but the numbers who attended hardly justified the organisation that went into these evenings. This apathy with regard to faculty evenings has spread to staff members (many of whom are busy during orientation week, but still some of their numbers found time to attend), and to members of the Executive who found the alternative programmes more entertaining than helping in the functioning of these evenings.
The Church service was another disappointment and accusations of the poor venue (Common Room) and lack of official recognition (from the Executive) cannot be really substantiated in such a low number of participants.
While I can point to apathy in attendances at Orientation functions an even greater apathy was noticeable in response to requests to senior students for aid in the running of Orientation activities. All clubs were circulated early in February and asked to provide information sheets advertising their club officials, activities and a general description of unusual aspects of their club. Of the 70-odd clubs in the university only 20 availed themselves of this opportunity and club members should (with many A.G.M.'s imminent) take the opportunity to ask their committees why their club was not represented in the information bureau.
In the staffing of this bureau apathy again reared its ugly head. Only a few stalwarts from the House Committee (aided by a few Evangelical Union members) kept going what was probably the most important undertaking for the Students' Association during Enrolment Week. Other clubs were circulated for help, but did not even bother to reply.
However, worse was to come. It was proposed to hold tours of the university during enrolment week with small groups of students divided according to faculties being given a quick but concentrated tour of the campus with accent to be placed on their particular fortes respectively. Accordingly seven major hostels housing students in Wellington were circulated and asked to co-operate. Not one hostel even bothered to reply. When members of hostels look to Executive and to the Students' Association in general for aid and for various handouts at semi-official functions throughout the year they could be expected to show some signs of co-operation, but I repeat not one hostel replied let alone offered any help.
This brings me to a major issue. Where does student apathy begin? It surely can't be part and parcel of those wide eyed innocent young people who fresh from the bond age of high schools, descend upon this university with a feverish look of freedom in their eyes and a de sire to get acquainted with all the wonders of a university life about which they have heard so much. No one can convince me that apathy begins here. So the obvious answer is of course the senior students when these know ledge seeking freshers and fresherettes arrive to whom do they turn for advice? Of course its second and third year students who they perhaps knew at school or have contacted them through their new board in Wellington.
Why is it then are the students proferring advice when they were responsible for the previous non-successes. These students can be only admitting, in fact advertising, the fact that they are failing to contribute to building a spirit within this university. These students either failed to attend previous functions or, if they did attend, did not contribute anything of importance to the evening's activities. Whichever way we look at it the blame lies with the senior students who now have the temerity to suggest to freshers that these functions are not worth attending.
This whole apathetic attitude permeates all of the Vic activities throughout the year with very few exceptions. This explains to some extent why Vic is always the recipient of the Wooden Spoon at both winter and summer tournament. Vic has some of New Zealand's leading sportsmen. We have New Zealand record and titleholders in Peter Hatch (swimming) and Dave Leech (athletics), and other leading sportsmen come from our present ranks! Dave Beauchamp (athletics), Richard Hawkes and John Souter (Tennis), Neil Wolfe (Rugby), George Gibbs (Yachting), and Gerda Buchler (Fencing). But these individuals although they bring honour and recognition to Vic, cannot win Tournament Shields alone, nor can they develop or maintain the Varsity spirit alone. Academically we have held our own with other New Zealand varsities and we have had our fair share of Rhodes Scholars (the last of whom, Colin Jeffcott was appointed last year).
However, it is up to you, who haven't done anything during your two, three, and four years here at Vic, to start doing something now by encouraging a better spirit amongst each new lot of freshers. Vic has, for a long time, had the reputation of being the most lifeless and apathetic of all the New Zealand varsities and it is about time somebody (in fact everybody) at Vic did something about it.
The excuse often presented as an accusation, that part-timers are the source of all this apathy is non-sensical and does not hold water when we examine the structure of Executive and its sub committees.
There are seven part-timers on Executive and six full timers (two of whom are about to leave on overseas scholarships). This ratio should not only be reversed, but the full timers should have a con siderable majority on the Executive. The various sub-committees and such activities as Extravaganza again show the part-timers (who not only have to work a forty-hour week, but also are required to obtain several units a year) to be dominant. Why can't full timers take a more active interest and part in these administrative functions? Perhaps it is that they can't even organise themselves let alone show the initiative necessary to organise others. Clubs which have a predominance of full timers on their committees show the least evidence of organisation.
Even the Anarchists whose avowed aim is the complete destruction of anything organised are to be commended about the majority of apathetic students. There will come a clay when the anarchists will succeed in obtaining the numbers required to oust Executive and for the most part students will not raise an eyebrow—except when they require a defunct Executive's aid.
This institution is crammed with the stay-at-homes, the beatniks, and the social party-going set. There is plenty of time to do that swot, to have these orgies, or to attend those cocktail or garden parties, but for heaven's sake get up off your great backsides and start, doing something to contribute to the creation and building of some spirit in this university.
(As approved by the Student Union Management Committee on
My days are full of nothings. They are so full that they overflow at times, and I have to stay awake at night waiting for the flood to abate and for my mind to clear.
Of all the things I was, all I am now Is my imaginings from behind a great plate-glass window. That is not what everybody sees of course; all they can see is a thin bundle of clothes, slumping down on a wheel chair, all huddled up and withered, that makes them shake their heads and sigh.
I have my nothings. I remember a story: there was a man who had had become a centipede and somebody had thrown an apple at him. The apple had jammed between two of his centipede's dorsal plates, I think I remember that the man who was inside did not feel real pain, because he was an insect. But, in spite of this, he had cringed in horror at the thought of what was in his back and had thought he was in pain, because his man's brains seemed to have refused to die.
Nobody can talk to me any longer: I hear them and I can see them, but, when it comes to answering, I know they cannot hear a sound of what I say because it is as if I had been dumb all my life.
But I have my n "things.
I have invented a game, a sort of cardless solitaire, and I play it to myself and I am happy.
That is, I am not happy.
You see? This is my game.
I sit here, behind the window, looking down at the street and I think something. Then I take the thought and turn it inside out, back to front: I take its skin and peel it and watch the fur being swallowed. I watch people go by; they don't know me. They don't even know I exist. But I see them, think something, then think something else, and then wait for other people to go by and take them over.
I go through my nothings as if they were money through the hands of a spendthrift.
Open Window
This Week's Contributions
Renato Amato
and
Norman Bilborough
The rubbish-collector's cart stops opposite my window, disgorging three or four brawny fellows. They are always the same, big and muscular and rough, and they are never the same; they change their jobs every two or three weeks, so that I never come to know their faces very well. But I always think that they really would like to be rubbish-collectors for thirty or forty years—it gives stability, somehow; it never makes you fear what is going to be beyond the next change—and get a goldwatch and their picture in the paper when they retire.
I also think that, if one could only go and talk openly to them and needle their secrets out of their pot-bellied stomachs, they would say "We don't want to be refuse collectors: we want to be poets." I had a young friend, once,—when I was young myself—who said he was a poet and wrote about living in a world of dust-bins, in the beauty that was the gutter. He became a rubbish-collector in the. end and he disappeared from my life forever. But, nevertheless, it is because of him, I feel, that I think that all rubbish-collectors want to be poets. You see? Some threads are just like umbilical cords: one never can sever them completely.
That young friend of mine, now; won't he want to be a poet again?
The fat girl who delivers the evening paper is one of my best nothings, baby-fat and ungainliness and all. She comes around the corner, bouncing like a flabby rubber-ball, eating ice-cream and flapping her two bags full of papers, that are too heavy for her. She is too stupid to understand anything: or too young, which Is the same thing. She knocks at the door and asks for the toilet and books curiously at me and offends me. But, when I see her, my game becomes more and more absorbing than ever, because, at her age, her possibilities are boundless. She is a chrysalis, ready to spring wings and fly; she is a Cinderella whose prince is waiting two houses further up my street. Her bags are cornucopias holding fast all the riches of the earth.
The children come down, sliding on the foot-path on their noisy scooters and carts, uttering warcries against a young red-headed little bully who haunts their happy hunting grounds. They make as much noise as twenty shipboard hooters ululating together: they pierce the air with the shrill, savage melodies of their innocent voices and populate my dreams with visions of incorporeal angels blowing open the doors to my Kingdom of Heaven. They brandish sticks and wooden shields that glitter in the sun and tingle like silvery bells on the glorious battlefields by the river. They die and become immortal, while the river flows as somebody said.
The river is there, where my street meets another street, when it rains and the water rushes down, jumping over the puny obstacle of the gutter grate. It leaves patterns of stones and sand scattered on the asphalt, in which I read—as if they were tea-leaves—the future the present and past of every nothing that happens to be near.
The road-mender comes and sweeps my tea-leaves away ir. tidy, conical burial mounds, where all my dreams become cemented together in a shapeless, useless mass.
My dreams are not stones.
They float in the air, over the head of the pretty young woman in green who is leading a pretty young boy by the hand.
And, still, that boy is a dwarf who has bought the young woman in green. And the woman is ugly; if she would only turn towards me the other side of her face. Also, she would like to be dressed in red, because red is a livelier colour.
Like the red of my sunsets—there—far away, over those gently rounded hills that are memories of girls' softnesses. They, the hills, are still what they have always been: nobody has yet tampered there, the way the man across the road has d ne with his hill, with concrete ramparts and battlements: sharp, secant lines, dazzlingly white under the summer sun, subdueing the earth and hugging her in place, lovingly, possessively, protectively.
They embrace her; ha d. smooth planes bearing down on her relentlessly. Sweet-hearts.
They come and sit down on the low, grey brick-wall that fences my neighbour's garden. She leans her head lightly on his shoulder and stays still, until he turns towards her and bends and kisses her lips. And they clash, and her softness is hard and I hear the low jarring noise of their teeth, as they lunge statically at each other, as they try to hide one into the other, to shelter, to reach those heights of sublimity they know are there, somewhere.
It is three years, now, that I have been like this; that I have not been. It is a day, a moment, eternity.
An old man comes to see me occasionally. He clenches his teeth and is brave, when he deliberately reaches for what was my hand: it must feel to him as scaly and cold as the body of the snake was, that I lifted from the ground one day, thinking it was a branch blown down from its tree by the wind.
He does not say.
He prays for me: not with me (he doesn't know I know) and | helps me along and helps himself along. If I could smile I would, because I think that I am one of his Nothings; but he does not know my game and I cannot teach him my rules.
He shuffles away silently, his steps muffled by the thick wad ding of the carpet and he becomes the stealthy wanderer that fills the darkness of my nights. As s on as he is behind me, he is my wife's boarder, whom I have only seen from my window and heard from my chair; and he kindles the memory of fears that, now, have no longer any reason to be.
My wife is my dearest nothing; the girl who is not my wife any more. The girl who is good to me, because she keeps me here, at home, and is my mother to me; the girl who is very cruel to me, because she keeps me here, at home, and is my mother to me and makes me die of shame.
I die for a little while every time she comes to me, like a plant going to sleep for the winter.
And at times I wish and hope that one of these recurring winters would last forever.
But, when I think of it—seeing that my game is so much all that is left of me—I am sure that, if I really died, I would only want to be alive again soon after.
A fine place In Lambton Quay between the Cable Car and Whitcombe & Tombs The best range of dresses and coats In town, attractively displayed.
About half-way along Willis Street. Very smooth-flowing silent wool for knitting during lectures. Muffled noodles sold. Seriously though, specialists, with the best range of plys and colours in town.
At 48a Manners Street, a co-operative bookshop. Buying a single share (£1) en titles you to 10% discount on all titles for life. German. Spanish, French and Russian. Any book ordered from anywhere in the world—delay about two months.
At 102 Lambton Quay, Phone 43-910. Religious books of all descriptions, e.g., theological, devotional, church history — and children's.
54 The Terrace. Carry a Complete Range of Student Books in Com Merce and Law.
Price Lists Available on Request.
For the most complete range of Text Books. Discounts available to Students for Text Book Purchases.
Comes a degree. Comes a wife, child and bank account. Get in early with a Bnz cheque account. Pay by cheque. Get the record of your statement. Control your spending.
A network covered by trams, diesel buses and trolley buses, will take you anywhere in the City. Timetables can be procured al the Lambton Quay and Courtenay Place Terminals at 6d. per copy. The sight-seeing tours are truly remarkable and will make you familiar with the terrain of Wellington. Telephone 42-719 for further information.
Half-way along Willis Street. Long-standing connection with University sport, every one of Vic's twenty-four sports catered for here. All contingencies provided for.
Nearest to the University, on the corner of Willis and Manners Streets. Many like the Back Bar. Never too crowded and comfortably twilit. Handy to eating places. Red Band Draught, drawn from a refrigerated tank room.
16, The Terrace. Phone 42-095. Angle-poise lamps, drawing instruments, precision slide rules, etc. Serving science for over 70 years, Watvic offers students the most comprehensive range of scientific equipment.
In the T. —G. Building, opp. Cable Car Lane. A most handy shop with the usual range of soaps, cosmetics, ointments and soothing balms. Prompt proscription service.
In 10 Willis Street above S. P. Andrew's. near Stewart Dawson's Corner. Hair styles for girls. Highly individual attention and plenty of fashion ideas.
At No. 3 Ballance Street, in the Maritime Building. Wholesale wine and spirit people. Vintners to Students' Assn. Especially of interest are their sweet and dry sherry sold in flagons, which go well at a party. Also red and white dry table wines at 6/-. Minimum order 2 gallons.
The Anarchist Association commenced its activities for 1962 not with a whimper but a bang when a meeting-cum-social was held at 59 Nairn Street on Saturday, March 10.
Bill Dwyer, who was host for the evening, welcomed the large gathering on behalf of the Anarchist Association and said that though the meeting had been originally called in order to settle on a programme of activities for the year, formal business would be cut as short as possible in order to cater for quite a few of those present, who, although they were not members of the Anarchist Association seemed genuinely interested in learning more about the social philosophy of Anarchy.
It was decided that the Anarchist Association would sponsor a number of talks during the year by speakers who would not necessarily be anarchists, but who it is hoped, would be able to give stimulating and thought-provoking talks on such topics as—current events, social and economic theory, religion, ethics, etc., etc. Graham Butterworth gave some details of some very interesting speakers who will be approached in this respect. One speaker who has already consented to give a talk is Mr. Toby Hill, who, it will be remembered, was prominently associated with the
Notice was given that the Anarchist Association intended to support the motion to be moved at the S.G.M. on March 20, that the S.U. executive had lost the confidence of the students in that it had made no Effective protest against the raising of tuition fees.
Other points to be raised at S.G.M. will be a motion congratulating the University Council on its refusal to divulge the personal information contained in students files held by the University to the Labour Department.
As many people present were interested in hearing more about the aims and objects of the Anarchist Association, Bill Dwyer in a brief impromptu introduction said the Anarchists were basically socialists in the true sense of the word, and although the movement collaborated closely with people in university circles it was really a working man's movement. While Anarchism had always been associated with Communists and Socialists it utterly rejected the present state Communism as practised in parts of the world today as doomed to failure. The terrible restraints on personal liberty which followed as consequences of bureaucracy and centralisation of authority under existing Communist regimes were as self evident to Anarchists and Capitalists alike. Bill went on to say that Anarchism was based on mutual aid, and anti-authoritarianism The total commodities of the community would be available to each individual, free, according to the needs of the individual—such needs being determined only by the individual himself.
The noted economist, Mr. W. Rosenberg, made the point at Congress that it was economically possible, if full production in any one given commodity was achieved, to distribute this commodity free throughout the community with-, out the need for money or any other similar means of exchange.
In reply to a question from Mr. Moriarty, Bill said that an Anarchist society would indeed be hampered in its progress if neighbouring states were not also anarchistic, and this problem he pointed out, was also a problem facing present day Socialistic and Communistic countries. The solution of course is to work towards the breaking down of all the existing, arbitrary national and political barriers and borders, and replace them not with new boundaries and nations, but with a world brotherhood of man engaged in a complete fulfilment of their own life.
Finally an attempt was made to reply to a few more questions, and then the meeting was adjourned as a formal affair with the distribution of some literature. People then broke up into small groups to get down to the serious business of debating points which had cropped up during the meeting and imbibing some conviviality to a pleasant background of Flamenco music and Mozart.
This year will see a determined drive by South Africa's Nationalist Government to bring all public education under its direct supervision. At present, public education for Whites, Coloureds (mixed blood), and Indians, although segregated, is controlled by the four Provincial Councils.
The object of placing this education under central government is to make it easier for the Nationalists to use the schools for purposes of indoctrination. The Government's educational ideal is what it calls "Christian National Education," a carefully worked out scheme to instill in the Whites conviction of their racial superiority, and to make the non-Whites accept permanent inferiority, by inculcating race dogmas from the earliest years of schooling.
The Nationalist Government already has complete control of nearly all education for Africans (Bantus) in South Africa, including the three 'tribal" colleges which are the only opening into higher education for Africans. These three colleges—Fort Hare, Turfloop, and Ngoye—were established at the time that Africans were barred by Act of Parliament from attending integrated universities in Cape Town and Johannesburg. They are each exclusively for Africans of different language groups. The Government controls nearly all primary and secondary education for Africans (the exceptions are a few Roman Catholic and other Christian mission schools, whose number is steadily being reduced by the withdrawal of subsidies and permits). Education for Africans is regulated by the Bantu Education Act, whose avowed aim is to prevent Africans from aspiring to equality with whites (according to Prime Minister Verwoerd when he introduced the law into Parliament in
Now the Government plans to lake over education for the "coloureds," of whom there are nearly two million in South Africa. Education will be placed under the Department for Coloured Affairs, and will be designed, according to the principles of Christian National Education, to prevent coloured people from aspiring to equality with whites. The centralisation is expected to take place in April this year. It is likely to be followed by the wholesale sacking of all teachers who oppose the Government—of which there is a large number. The only institution of higher education for coloured people is the so-called "University College of the Western Cape" at Bellville, near Cape Town. (It is known among coloured people as the "Bush College.")
Similarly, education for the 500,000 Indians in South Africa will be centralised and directed toward the same end. The only higher education available to Indians is a university in an old naval barracks on an island in the middle of Durban harbour.
As far as whites are concerned, the Government plans to set up an Education Advisory Council, which will bring the education in the four provinces into line, and slowly infuse it with the ideas of Christian National Education, designed to ensure that white youth does not feel any "wind of change" but continues to hold high the banner of white superiority.
Whites may attend the well-equipped universities in Cape Town, Stellinbosch, Johannesburg, Pretoria, Durban, Pietermaritzburg, and Bloemfontein, but to make certain that they do not pick up any "dangerous" doubts or ideas (here, all boys upon leaving school are now required to undergo nine months of military training, in which the main political emphasis is on "the preservation of while supremacy".
The pattern that emerges is of education planned to bolster and perpetuate the apartheid system and its underlying doctrine. Fortunately, students are not taking this onslaught on education lying down. (A in foreign publications.
The British and Malayan Governments have agreed to a creation of a "Federation of Malaysia," embracing the eleven States of Malaya, Singapore, North Borneo, Sarawak, and Brunei, they have not gone beyond this.
A Commission was set up to view the feelings of the people of Borneo in this matter. It is good if we place ourselves in a position of better understanding toward North Borneo: For their future depends on the outcome of the Commission and their ability to understand the needs of the country.
The aim of the British Government is to grant independence to all Colonial Territories as soon as they are ready. Up until now Borneo has thought of itself standing alone or in association with Sarawak. But two political facts must be faced. These are:—
The British Government, feels that merger is the only way of fulfilling its responsibilities towards Borneo, in guiding it towards self-government. Merger with other States will secure them all against dangers from any quarter. The Government is of the opinion that the future welfare and happiness of Borneo, lies in their forming part of a larger unit.
Economically as well as politically, small countries are rapidly becoming out of place in the strenuous conditions of the modern world. Where nations are concerned, combination creates a unit of Government more powerful, efficient, and more capable of making life better for its members.
By itself or even in association with Sarawak, North Borneo would find it very expensive to exist as an independent territory, and its voice in the councils of the world would be small.
The people of Malaya and Borneo have cultural, economic, and historical ties which make them fit naturally together as a group. Malaysia offers for them, the prospect of sharing in the destiny of what the British Government believes will be a great, prosperous, and stable independent state within the Commonwealth.
The present Federation of Malaya comprises eleven States; each of which has its own constitution and Government. Each State has its own governor or head of State, and its own public service.
The problem, is to devise terms acceptable to both the Malayan Government and North Borneo with Sarawak, for the entry of these two territories into a new Federation of Malaysia.
From Malaya into Malaysia, is a vast step but it has to be taken. Singapore is also thinking of entry and if terms are acceptable to all parties, one vast Nation of Commonwealths will replace small and remote countries not able to stand alone.
It is necessary for the people of North Borneo to consider what powers they are prepared to concede in order to bring Malaysia into being. It is understandable that there should be apprehension, for Malaysia would mean that the people of North Borneo would have far less control over their own affairs than they exercise already, and that North Borneo would be relegated to the position of a relatively powerless province of a strong central government situated a thousand miles away. It is natural that the first instinct of the people of North Borneo should be to require a greater measure of local self-government than is afforded to states of the present Federation of Malaya. To press this too far, might not be in the best interests of North Borneo. It is fundamental to the concept of Malaysia that the federal government should be endowed with substantial powers; without them it will have no real or enduring strength and will fail in its purpose.
The most difficult task of the commision, will be to make recommendations which would reconcile needs and wishes with what Malaya is prepared to concede.
When the Federation of Malaya was formed arrangements were made to permit states to join gradually and smoothly. Similar arrangements extended over a longer period will be necessary with North Borneo and Sarawak. The intention would be to cause as little dislocation in the daily life of the people as possible and drastic changes are not contemplated.
The main issue before the people of North Borneo is simply this. They must assess the future and weigh the prospects Malaysia offers, of security from external aggression and internal subversion. They must consider how far they are prepared to give powers to the Central Government and yet safe guard the needs of its own people.
There are some, no doubt, who prefer no change in the existing order of things; to them the answer is: "The winds of change" are blowing. No good can come from refusing to face up to this fact. Events in the outside world are moving fast and unpredictably; there is danger that the entry into the Federation once missed, will not recur.
It will be the task of the commission to work out the plan for Malaysia. There is no reason 'o suppose this cannot be successfully accomplished and thereupon be a a guide to the independence these people in their hearts are hoping for.
North Borneo is a little known colony of Britain occupying the northern part of the large island of Borneo; from Singapore it is one thousand miles by sea.
It was completely devastated during the last war, and with the help of Britain, has been quietly re building itself.
The history of North Borneo before the coming of European traders and administrators is fragmentary and largely dateless. It is to be found in folk stories, the history of the Brunei Sultanate, accounts written by explorers and in a few historic remains. Documented history records that in the latter half of the nineteenth century the territory was in a turbulent state; the main river valleys were ruled largely by coastal overlords who dominated the countryside by plundering inland villages; head hunting in the interior was rife, whilst the coastal areas were subjected to attacks by sea-marauders whose activities paralysed such trade as existed. This was the state of the various enclaves of territory which now make up North Borneo when British rule commenced. Then in
Congratulations are extended to the following student sportsmen and sportswomen who were awarded Blues for Winter
Cross Country—Dave Beauchamp.
Fencing—Rick Peterson, Ross Martin, Gerda Buchler, Lorna McKenzie.
Golf—Stew Crombie, Peter Run kin, Tom Gault.
Men's Hockey—Dennis Paget, R. B. Curham, F. D. McAven.
Men's Indoor Basket Ball—Peter Betts, Don Roberts, Doug. Edwards, Ross Martyn.
Rugby—Neill Wolfe, Mick Williment, Don Barton, Bill Oliver, Ian Uttely, E. R. Savage, G. Lindford, Sam Rolleston, Ken Komber.
Soccer—Brian Begley.
Women's Hockey—janine Le Page.
Women's Indoor Basket Ball—Merle Hudson.
Women's Outdoor Basket Ball—Anita Greig, Olwyn Frethey.
If you are not prepared to give up your time to attending club practices, than I suggest you go and see the Physical Education Officer, Mr. Landreth, and enrol in the Intra-Mural Games.
These Games, which include Basketball, Table Tennis, Volley ball and Badminton, will be played on successive days of the week and anybody, Club members or not, can go along and have a lot of fun.
Playing hours will be between 12 and 2 o'clock, so in one lunch hour during the week you can go and work off any surplus energy. Hostels etc., may like to enter teams and help in building up the hostel morale.
Anyway, go, and have a chat With Mr. Landreth or Miss Maddox, about taking at least one of the many courses open to the student to attend, from Dry ski training to Modern Ballet classes.
Presenting his report at the Annual General Meeting of the Ski Club, Mr. Tony Hassed, The Treasurer, outlined the Club's plans for the season. Two or three seasons ago, the Club was in dire financial straits, and due to a concerted effort by the members all outstanding debts had been paid. However, this year the club was faced with the prospect of having to raise £75 by July and to this end a dance will be held on Friday, April 13.
A social levy was to be made on the members of the club together with a working party levy of five shillings, this latter to be paid in to the joint hut account, and used for the expenses incurred in sending parties to the hut to do construction jobs, etc.
Other changes outlined included an increase in the hut fees from 5/ per night to 7/6 per night and an increase in the truck fare to £2/10/-. The cost of a weekend skiing is thus about £5/10/-, inclusive of hire of equipment at 2/6 per unit.
The hut was also to be extended, he said, and this was going to require much money and labour. Auckland University had already started on the internal modifications and the Victoria club was hoping to start work on their portion of the work during the Easter break.
Other speakers during the evening including Mr Landreth, the Physical Education Officer, who outlined his course for instruction in dry skiing.
The evening concluded with slides films, and supper.
At the last Executive meeting the go-ahead was given to the Sports Committee to give the De fence Rifle Club a grant to enable it to get underway. All records were lost two years ago due to the incapabilities of the then Club captain. Hence the club was not able to produce accounts to be audited and thus were not given a grant to cover their expenses.
However, due to the exertions of the present Club captain, and his committee, the club has been able to recover and with last night's okay Victoria will be able to field a team at the University Tournament at Easter.
A grant was urgently needed to enable the club to purchase ammunition for their weekly shoots, as well as to purchase new rifles.
With Don Brooker behind the Club, the grant went through unopposed, in the absence of the Association's Accountant, Mr. M. Mason. Mr Brooker pointed out that the club could not function with its present gear and that the Club Captain and others in the club had shown themselves keen and capable. Also the membership of the Club had risen markedly this year and the Club had a right to a grant regardless of the fact that audited accounts were not available due to no fault of their own.
Well, chaps and chapines, this is the very first Year of the Gym. Think of it ... a whole year of refreshing exercise in yon vasty building, with all sorts of idiotic things to do. Volleyball, strictly for the birds, man. May be all right for bounding around type people but me, I'm for maybe a little weight training: I'm tired of beautiful girls of my acquaintance seeing me on the beach and calling me skinny. Or maybe table tennis except the ping and the pong sort of grate on my so sensitive nerves and I'mso delicate.
Anyway, there must be something there that I can do if it's only watching the Training College girls leaping athletically around (on Thursdays, I think).
And after all my exercise, that is if 1 do any exercising, 1 could have a shower, maybe. ... Oh yes, I know what I should tell you about—the Trampoline. Now this Is strictly for the birds and has to be used to be believed in. Bounce Wheeeeeee, Bounce ... Wheeeeeeee. ... Marvellous good fun.
If I should be so indiscreet as to get fit, there are a couple of clubs I've been thinking of joining. You know, I just might this year. Practices will be a lot easier to attend now especially with the access road down to the Boyd-Wilson field nearly completed.
Besides, I've paid my Students' Association fee so 1 may as well get something for my money (membership of these clubs is Free, if you call paying £3/5/- to the Students' Association an act of philanthropy.)
Captain: Ross Martin, 23 Ferry Street, Wellington, E.5. Phone 43-478 day, 17-824 night.
Secretary: Lorna McKenzie, 78 Hautana Avenue, Lower Hutt. Phone 61-075.
The club generally meets every Wednesday evening from 7.30 to about 10.30 p.m. in the new gymnasium. A senior training squad is held during the weekend in the gym. on either Saturday or Sunday morning.
The club membership totals about 40-50 fencers, of which about 20 are usually beginners who have never fenced before.
The club is open to every student and coaching is given to every member from New Zealand fencing representatives and senior provincial and club members.
Every member from the most junior to the members of the N.Z.U. team get a regular opportunity to fence other club teams in Wellington.
Trips throughout the year will include weekends at Wanganui and Christchurch, as well as Winter Tournament and the Provincial and National Championships.
There is ample room for some new talent in the club as several members of last year's senior team have left University.
The social side of University life is not neglected. Regular club parties are held which, together with other Provincial parties, means that the desirous student can meet the best fencers in the country in convivial surroundings.
The fresher will ask "What can the Swords Club offer me?' Here briefly are some of the answers:
The study of the living cell is so complex that when it began to develop as an independent research area it soon sub-divided. Each of the separate divisions investigated a narrow aspect—structure or chemistry or morphology. But the cell is a self-contained entity, and researchers found that not only must all these biological sub-divisions be linked, but that other sciences—chemistry and physics—must be called on for their contributions. In one laboratory the cell is subjected to extremes of cold and heat, in another to ultraviolet rays. In the basement, behind thick concrete walls, it is exposed to powerful X-rays. It is simulated with electric current, whirled in high-speed centrifuges, poisoned, dismembered.
One researcher specialises in transplanting the nuclei of amoebae. This must be done to deter mine the relative importance of the nucleus and the cytoplasm in the life of the cell. The transfer is done with a micro-manipulator attached to the microscope. At the operating end of the manipulator are a minute loop and glass pin. The amoeba is driven into the loop and then with the pin the nucleus of one amoeba is carefully transferred to another. The operation takes the utmost delicacy and look a year to perfect.
At the turn of the century, re searchers noticed mat a cell subjected to the light of a mercury lamp radiates a barely perceptible violet glow. This phosphorescence was so weak and varied so little from living to dead matter that scientists did not see the possibilities it offered for peering into me cell until it was suggested that the faint violet glow was actually part or a much stronger radiation in the invisible spectrum, readily detectable on a photographic plate.
A group of biologists made a series of experiments with a Specially designed and built microscope and made an important discovery—that the brilliance of the phosphorescence is determined by the condition of the cell. It is the cell signalling, so to speak, how it feels.
Now comes the problem of reading these signals, a very difficult job, but it has been found that the phosphorescence of blood corpuscles differs in a healthy and an ailing body. The blood cells of an irradiated animal emit a specific phosphorescence. Thus, synthetic cytology in which biologists co-operate with physicists, is beginning to uncover another secret of the cell.
We have no normal parallel for cold as intense as —183 degrees C. (—297 degrees F.) and it has been taken for granted that no living organism could stand temperature that low. Yet it has been demonstrated that a European corn borer caterpillar adapts itself so that it can stay alive for many days in liquid oxygen at —297 degrees Fahrenheit.
Place a flower in liquid oxygen, take it out, tap it with a hummer—it breaks with a silvery tinkle. Drop a live frog into liquid oxygen, take it out after a few minutes, drop it on the ground—it cracks like u piece of thick glass. Experiments like these can be carried on indefinitely, and always with the same conclusion—that living tissue freezes at these low temperatures. The normally constituted cell is 70-80 per cent water, and this water turns into ice crystals that tear the cell and structures.Given the same treatment the corn borer caterpillar becomes as cold and brittle as an icicle. If broken open, white crystals of ice are found inside the chitin shell. It is lifeless and pounds to dust in a mortar like sugar or salt. But let the frozen caterpillar thaw and a miracle takes place—it gradually comes to life. It has been proved that the complete crystallisation of water in the cell of a complex organism in conditions of deep cooling does not kill the cell if it has undergone preliminary adaption. The caterpillar used in this experiment had been trained to withstand cold.
Aside from its philosophical interest this study is important for theoretical biology, for medicine and for practical agriculture. It also has a bearing on the exciting question man has long asked him self—is there life on other planets?
Our earth is fortunate because it receives just enough heat to create and maintain life. Conditions on the more distant planets are much more severe. Jupiter's temperature is 138 degrees C. below zero (—216 degrees F.). On Mars, the planet that science fiction writers have populated with intelligent beings, the daytime temperature does climb to 25 degrees C.; at night, however, it drops to —40 degrees C. even in the warmest zones.
But the adaptability of the living cell is evidently greater than we had thought. It may be that even the coldest spots on Mars have strange inhabitants who live actively during the day and fall into a state of anabiosis in the bitter cold of the planet's night. Sooner or later a living cell from outer space will be studied through a researcher's microscope for the answers.
Club Captain: Lance Leikis, 39 Hatton Street, Karori, Phone 76-160.
Secretary: Cam Murray, 166 Sydney Street West, Wellington. Phone 40-472.
This club is one of the leading athletic clubs in the province and we have featured prominently in interclub meetings, and provincial championships for the past few seasons.
Our big event of the year is undoubtedly the athletic champs, at the Summer Tournament (Easter). Other events popular with club members is Christmas holiday trip to Wanganui and New Plymouth: a trip to Hastings late in March, and a meeting at Palmerston North (vs. Palmerston North and Massey College).
We are very lucky to have the services of a leading British athlete and coach (Mr. I. Boyd), who is assisted by Lloyd Clarke and Cam Murray (N.Z. badge holders). So if you are looking for a furtherance of your athletic career or thinking of beginning come along and join the club.
Women members are especially welcome and a section is provided for them at Tournament. Watch the notice boards for news of the interfaculty tournament (March 17th). Meanwhile come along to our club nights (Thursdays, 7.30 p.m., at Boyd-Wilson Field) and see for yourself.
The official opening of the Second Asian Regional Cooperation Seminar took place on Tuesday, October 17, 1961, at the World Health Organisation conference hall in Manilla, Philippines. Planned for October 17 to November 12, the four-week long Seminar was under the joint sponsorship of the Co-ordinating Secretariat, the Student Councils Association of the Philippines ( Scap) and the National Union of Students of the Philippines (Nusp).
Three weeks of the Seminar were devoted to discussions on student Press, student travel, student welfare, the functions and activities of the National Union in Asia, regional cooperation in Asia and contemporary Asian questions, such as neutralism, the language problem and the changing pattern of education in Asia. The Seminar also examined the contribution which Asian students can make to the cause of abiding world peace. During the last week of the Seminar, the participants were taken around the Philippines in order to enable them to gain a better insight into life in the Philippines as well as to give them an opportunity to learn about the practical aspects of organising a country-wide tour.
In the field of student press, the participants evaluated the work and future operation of the Asian News Distribution Scheme under the responsibility of Ppmi Indonesia. According to information received from Ppmi, full-scale implementation of this scheme would commence in Ppmi, the participants requested Cosec to give all possible technical assistance to the Ppmi for the full-scale implementation of the project. The scheme will serve as a focal point for the receipt and distribution of news items about the activities of National Unions of Students in the Asian region. A monthly newsletter, to be called the Asian Student News, will be produced for the purpose of disseminating such news items. The Asian News Distribution Scheme will serve as an experimental framework of Asian student press co-operation, to be followed by a full-scale press bureau should the present scheme prove successful. The work of the Asian News Distribution Scheme will again be examined at the 10th Isc. The Seminar participants also recommended that National Unions of Students participating in the scheme should undertake the publication of news bulletins at regular intervals for distribution within their own countries.
The participants also considered the student press situation in their respective countries and made general recommendations for its improvement. The Seminar further recommended to the 10th Isc that Cosec be mandated to give technical and all other forms of assistance to the needy National Unions and urged all National Unions to strive for the recognition within their countries of the Code of Ethics and Charter of Student Press Rights.
The Seminar, after hearing a report from the Korean delegation about the student press situation in the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences in the Seoul National University, expressed its deep concern over the censorship imposed by the College authorities and recommended to the authorities that they immediately cease interference with free and autonomous student press activities on the campus.
Cosec was asked to make an immediate study in conjunction with the Ncusi of India the possibility of inaugurating an Indian student press bureau.
The press working class of the Seminar published two newsletters and an eight-page newspaper called "Mabuhay", which reported on the activities of the Seminar.
The Second Asian Regional Co-operation Seminar examined the progress in the implementation of such recommendations of the First Asian Regional Co-operation Seminar as the publication of an Asian Travel Handbook and National Travel Handbooks for various countries in Asia. The Seminar examined the results of an investigation carried out by Nuaus Australia of travel, hotel and insurance facilities in the area.
The Seminar was pleased to note that Ncusi India has produced its first regular Student Guide to Delhi. Information compiled in the Guide followed the questionnaire drawn up at the First Asian Regional Co-operation Seminar and was in accordance with resolution 103 of the 9th Isc. The Seminar was also pleased to note a statement from Nuaus Australia that compilation of the information for the Asian Travel Handbook will be completed by the beginning of
The Nuaus delegation reported that as soon as all the data for the Handbook has been compiled the material for the Handbook will be sent to Cosec for printing.
Ncusi gave a progress report on the work done to produce national travel handbooks for various countries in Asia. The Seminar re commended that these travel hand books should be prepared in accordance with resolution 103 of the 9th Isc and urged those National Unions which are compiling information for their travel handbooks to complete the compilation as soon as possible and to send the completed material to Ncusi India for publication.
In order to provide a basis for the increase and improvement of student travel activities in Asia, the Seminar recommended to National Unions that they undertake such schemes as regional and national work camps, regional study tours, cultural events and bilateral exchanges of students. The Seminar also recommended that existing National Unions and National Study Travel Bureaux establish and improve on facilities for rendering services to students coming from abroad. Such facilities may include information about cheap hotels and student hostels, recommendations for restaurants and places of entertainment, typical itineraries, experiences, student guides, hospitality committees, etc. The Seminar recommended that the International Student Identity Card be used as a means of identification for foreign students to obtain concessions available to local students.
In the discussion on Student Welfare the participants devoted attention to such problems as financing of studies, student employment, student co-operatives, board, lodging and health facilities. The participants discussed the student welfare situation in their respective countries and examined the ways by which it may be improved, giving great emphasis to cooperative and self-help techniques in the university community as a means of solving welfare problems.
Community development programmes were given great importance in the discussions on student welfare. The Seminar examined the role which students can play in programmes of community and rural development in Asia and recommended that all national and local unions in Asia, explore opportunities for utilising student resources for work camps, illiteracy campaigns and other social projects within their countries.
The Seminar called upon the 10th Isc to make provision for a welfare conference of National Unions of Students in Asia, Australia and New Zealand to be convened during the period between the 10th and 11th Isc. At this specialist Seminar great emphasis would be placed on detailed study of problems relating to student health schemes, student concessions and student co-operatives.
All National Unions of Students in Asia were asked to coordinate. their welfare activities with the national World University Service committees where these exist in order to reduce the possibilities of duplication. It was recognised that both the World University Service and National Unions shared mutual responsibility in co-ordinating projects and in channelling financial assistance from university sources. The Seminar also took note of the valuable and extensive role which the World University Service has played in promoting the general well-being of the Asian student community.
In the field of student accommodation the Seminar noted the rapid increase in the student rolls in the Asian countries and that a large number of students are required, due to lack of hostel accommodations, to live in private lodging houses with inadequate living and study facilities. The Seminar recommended that National Unions of Students seek to interest university and government authorities in undertaking a joint survey of student accommodation conditions with the purpose of instituting more extensive programmes for the provision of hostel facilities. The Seminar also recommended to National Unions of Students that they explore avenues of assistance from the Wus and international welfare agencies for the provision of student accommodations.
The Seminar, considering the need for less expensive services for student communities through cooperative enterprises, recommended that all National Unions consider the establishment of co-operative shops, canteens and book stores for the benefit of students.
The Seminar participants unanimously decided to send cables to the United Nations Political Committee and the governments of the United States and the U.S.S.R. urging immediate cessation of testing for military purposes and the signing of a treaty banning such tests, as well as the resumption of negotiations on general and complete disarmament with effective controls.
The Seminar took time off on November 1 to celebrate the International Day of Solidarity with the Algerian students. As a mark of their solidarity the participants addressed a cable to Ugema saluting their heroic struggle against French imperialism and for the liberation of Algeria. They also addressed a cable to the President of the Republic of France condemning the brutalities and atrocities perpetrated against the people of Algeria by the French government.
The participants at the Seminar came from the following countries: Australia, Ceylon, Hong Kong, India, Indonesia, Israel, Korea, Malaya, New Zealand, Pakistan, Philippines, Singapore, Thailand and Vietnam. Assisting the Seminar director Kenny Khaw (Malaya) were Venant Ngoie (Congo), Clovis C. Aleman (Panama), Mailand Christensen (Denmark), Lutz Erbring (Germany), John Osmena (Philippines) and Raul Rocco (Philippines). Several eminent personalities from the Philippines introduced a number of the Seminar topics for discussion with very enlightening lectures.