Consommé with Truffle Quenelles: A History of What the Royals Ate for Christmas, from the Exotic to the Everyday

Opulent Still-Life with Silver gilt objects, Nautilus Shell, Porcelain, Pie, Fruit and Fish on a Draped Table by Carstian Luyckx, 1650, Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. Cover picture by Elli Ioannou for DAM

By Lisa J. Hackett, University of New England; Huw Nolan, University of New England, and Jo Coghlan, University of New England

As we prepare our Christmas fare ~ a hot roast with all the trimmings, a seafood smorgasbord or a beach-side barbecue ~ it is timely to think about what others have on their Christmas menus.

We’ve been questioning: do the British royals eat what we do? Mostly, they probably do today, but in the past not so much.

Medieval and Georgian Christmas fare

While the Victorian era is the one most associated with modern Christmas traditions, Christmas was celebrated by earlier monarchs too.

During the medieval period in England, Christmas was time for reflection rather than fun and the Catholic Church banned gift giving. But mince pies emerged in this period. The addition of cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg to meat pies was meant to symbolise the gifts bestowed by the three wise men on Jesus. By the late Victorian period, the meat was replaced by dried fruit dressed in the traditional spice combination, which continues today.

Game pies were also popular in the era for Christmas, with goose and venison the preferred filling of royals.

Willem Claesz Heda (1594–1680), Banquet Piece with Mince Pie, 1635. National Gallery of Art

In 17th century England, Oliver Cromwell’s Puritanical government banned Christmas. In 1647, Christmas feasting, alcohol and singing was banned – but many continued Christmas traditions in secret. King Charles II, on his restoration, reinstated Christmas in 1660.

Under the Georgians, Christmas celebrations reached new heights with feasts typically lasting for 12 nights.

The 12th Night Cake, a fruit cake with frosting and sugar paste embellishments, likely stemmed from the tradition of both Christmas and wedding cake.

A typical Georgian-era royal Christmas feast consisted of cheeses, soups, turkey, goose, duck, and mince pies. George I’s love of the Christmas plum pudding earned himself the nickname “Pudding King”.

Celebrating 12th Night was later banned by Queen Victoria in 1860 due to its association with paganism.

Queen Victoria’s 1894 Christmas dinner

In 1894, Queen Victoria hosted Christmas at Osborne House on the Isle of Wight. Dinner started at 9pm, the menu written in French.

The tradition of composing menus in French for royal occasions has its origins in the Norman Conquest of the 11th century, which established French as the official language of the English court. This practice continues by the royal family today, particularly for formal dinners and state occasions.

On the menu in 1894 was a calf’s head consommé garnished with truffle quenelles, cockscombs and mushrooms, followed by carrot soup flavoured with celery and ham, then salmon steaks dressed with hollandaise sauce.

Thomas Webster (1800–1886), The Christmas Pudding; from The Art Journal, November 1868. © The Trustees of the British Museum, CC BY-NC-SA

Next served were crumbed fried fillets of sole and moulds of puréed pheasant meat, macaroni with tomato sauce, cheese, ham, pickled tongue, mushrooms, and truffles.

Also served were roast beef with Yorkshire puddings and roast turkey served with braised chestnuts, glazed pearl onions, mushrooms, bacon and chipolata sausage, and a chine (backbone) of pork. Asparagus spears dressed in a white sauce accompanied the meat.

Mince pies, plum puddings and jellied orange flavoured custards served with cream were served for dessert.

As was the custom in historical royal courts, a sideboard of assorted meats was also available. The sideboard included a baron of beef (sirloins joined at the backbone) and a wild boar’s head, a gift from the Emperor of Germany Wilhelm II, the eldest of Victoria’s 42 grandchildren.

James Stephanoff (1786–1874), The Kitchen at Windsor Castle, 1819. Wikimedia Commons

The Lord Lieutenant of Ireland Lord Cadogan gave a gift of a woodcock pie, accompanied by a game pie, brawn (a terrine made of pork or veal) and a terrine of foie gras.

The meal was served with 12 bottles of wine – a gift from the Emperor of Austria, from his personal vineyards.

Dinner concluded with Stilton cheese and plates of fruit, in case anyone was still hungry.

The meal was prepared at Windsor Castle and then transported by royal yacht to Osborne, arriving on Christmas Eve. The menu for Victoria’s New Year’s Day meal likely featured remnants from the Christmas lunch – something we can relate to, if not the eating of cockscombs or calf’s head consommé.

Modern royal Christmas menus

Today’s royal family have a more familiar Christmas menu.

On Queen Elizabeth II’s 2014 dinner menu was roast turkey with sage and chestnut stuffing, Brussels sprouts, buttered carrots, roast parsnips and potatoes. Iced gingerbread with oranges in syrup was served for dessert.

Under King Charles III in 2023, the family ate a typical roast turkey lunch, followed by afternoon tea of cake, scones, mince pies, sandwiches and Christmas fruit cake with royal icing and marzipan.

The modern royals eat a much more familiar Christmas meal. Claudio Schwarz/Unsplash, FAL

The final meal of today’s Christmas is the evening buffet, more elaborate than Christmas lunch. It includes Stilton cheese and decorated York ham. It is also the only time the head chef will go into the dining room to carve the meat. One thing missing from the table today is foie gras: on becoming king, Charles banned foie gras at all royal residences.

Despite the menu, which may seem more common to us, the royal family do have some unusual habits. On Christmas day, the royal men and women have breakfast separately. The royal men are served a full English breakfast. The royal women are served fruit, toast and coffee in their rooms. Royal children eat in the nursery with their nannies, which they will continue to do each year until they are considered “old enough to conduct themselves properly at the dining table”.

Lisa J. Hackett, Lecturer, Humanities, Arts and Social Sciences, University of New England; Huw Nolan, Animal Welfare Scientist and Pop Culture Researcher, University of New England, and Jo Coghlan, Associate Professor, Humanities, Arts and Social Sciences, University of New England

Beyond Couture Exhibition: Explore the Poetic and Futuristic World of Yuima Nakazato During the Last Weeks of the Show at the Museum of Lace and Fashion

Yuima Nakazato's Liminal collection for Sping/Summer 2022, at the Beyond Couture show in France. Photograph (above) by Bradly Dunn Klerks. Masthead picture by Elli Ioannou for DAM

In the historic French port city of Calais, the Museum of Lace and Fashion is host to an enthralling exhibition, Beyond Couture, dedicated to the avant-garde Japanese fashion designer Yuima Nakazato. As the show enters its final weeks, visitors are offered a rare opportunity to immerse themselves in the groundbreaking world of a couturier who is reshaping the boundaries of fashion with his visionary blend of tradition, technology, and sustainability, writes Jeanne-Marie Cilento. Exhibition photography by Bradly Dunn Klerks

Yuima Nakazato talks to the press

at his exhibition in Calais, France

NEXT MONTH, the Museum of Lace and Fashion bids farewell to the exhibition celebrating the artistry of Yuima Nakazato. Beyond Couture showcases his groundbreaking collections from 2016 to 2024. 

The show is more than a retrospective, rather an exploration of how the designer bridges the past, present, and future through his poetic and technologically innovative approach to fashion.

In a meticulously curated space that blends futurism with history, visitors encounter fifty of Nakazato’s most evocative garments, accompanied by sketches, technical drawings, fabric samples, and multimedia installations that unravel his creative process. 

More than just an exhibition, the show explores how Nakazato is reshaping the foundations of couture to meet the demands of a changing world.

Curated in collaboration with the designer, the show sheds light on the key elements that define his work. One highlight is Nakazato’s use of lace, a nod to the museum’s own legacy as a bastion of craftsmanship. In his hands, this traditional material is transformed, layered into designs that feel at once delicate and robust, ephemeral and enduring. His experimental textiles, offer tangible proof of how cutting-edge technologies can honour age-old craftsmanship. 

Nakazato’s work not only attests to his aesthetic innovation but also philosophical transformation. His work challenges the fashion industry to rethink its priorities, advocating for a model that values sustainability, emotional resonance, and inclusivity. In his vision, couture is not an exclusive club but a space for collective exploration: a laboratory where the old and the new, the personal and the universal, converge. 

More than just an exhibition, the show evinces how Nakazato is reshaping the foundations of couture to meet the demands of a changing world.

Nakazato's ground-breaking designs 

for the Cosmos collection, 

Spring/Summer 2020 

The designer's approach is as much about connection as it is about innovation. He views clothing not merely as fabric and form but as a vessel of emotional resonance. “Each garment,” Nakazato has said, “should create a unique bond with its wearer.” 

This belief underpins his bespoke approach to couture, where each piece tells a personal story, resonating with both its creator and the individual it adorns. 

Yet, while his creations evoke the ethereal elegance synonymous with couture, they also embody a deeper purpose ~ an urgent call for a sustainable future. 

As the fashion industry faces increasing scrutiny for its environmental impact, Nakazato has become a pioneer in exploring new ways of creating sustainable couture. By integrating materials like upcycled textiles and industrial waste into his designs, he challenges the notion of luxury, proving that beauty and responsibility can coexist. 

One of his most revolutionary ventures lies in the development of new textiles and processes. Collaborating with scientists and engineers, Nakazato has harnessed technologies such as 3D printing and biofabrication to create textiles from fermented bacteria. These innovations not only reduce waste but also explore the potential for garments to be crafted without reliance on traditional resources. 

As the fashion industry faces increasing scrutiny for its environmental impact, the Japanese designer is a leader in developing new ways of creating sustainable couture

The sinuous drapery and fluted

pleating of a piece from the 

Blue collection, Autumn/Winter 

2022-2023

Nature often serves as Nakazato’s muse, inspiring collections that echo the grandeur and fragility of the natural world. From the haunting melodies of whales to the fiery drama of volcanic lava, his designs are steeped in his respect for the planet. 

This connection is entwined with his Japanese heritage, where the aesthetics of simplicity and the philosophy of interconnectedness permeate his work. The result is a poetic marriage of natural elements and futuristic forms: a vision of couture that feels both connected to the past and yet ahead of its time. 

Nakazato’s career trajectory has been as enterprising as his designs. A graduate of the prestigious Antwerp Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Belgium, he quickly established himself as a force to be reckoned with. His final collection introduced intricate origami techniques into wearable art and he earned the academy’s coveted Innovation Award in 2008.

This early recognition set the tone for a career characterized by ingenuity, experimentation, and a commitment to redefining haute couture. Nakazato’s invitation to showcase at Paris Haute Couture Week in 2016, an honour granted by the Fédération de la Haute Couture et de la Mode, allowed him to join the ranks of celebrated and established couturiers in Paris. He also became only the second Japanese designer, after the legendary Hanae Mori, to participate on the official schedule of Paris Haute Couture. 

Through a combination of ancient Japanese techniques and cutting-edge technology, Nakazato crafts garments that embody sustainability, emotional connection, and the sublime beauty of nature. His creations are not meant to be only clothing but transformative experiences.

In this space where art, science, and philosophy meet, Nakazato invites us all to imagine a new era of fashion: a future beyond couture

 

A glimmering, three-dimensional

design from the Unkown collection,

Autumn-Winter 2016-2017

Nakazato’s artistic reach extends to the performing arts. His collaborations include designing costumes for ballet, stage productions, and opera. One of his most anticipated projects was the costume design for Idoménée, that premiered in early 2024, at Le Grand Théâtre de Genève. 

Here, Nakazato’s theatrical sensibilities converge with his technical prowess, bringing his signature blend of imagination and precision to a new audience. 

 

Yuima Nakazato represents the future of fashion: where experimentation fuels ingenuity, and where garments are more than wearable clothes but bridges 

to deeper human and environmental connections. 

As the curtain closes on Beyond Couture, it leaves behind not only a testament to Nakazato’s work but also a challenge to the industry to follow in his pioneering footsteps. 

In this space where art, science, and philosophy meet, Nakazato invites us all to imagine a new era of fashion: a future beyond couture.

 

The Beyond Couture exhibition at the Museum of Lace and Fashion in Calais runs until January 5th 2025. Open daily from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., except Tuesdays and major holidays, with tickets priced at €7and €4 for concessions. For more details, visit www.cite-dentelle.fr. 

For Chanel, in Search of a New Creative Breath of Fresh Air, Will Matthieu Blazy be the Man for the Job?

French Belgian designer Matthieu Blazy departed Bottega Veneta and has been appointed to take the helm at Chanel. Cover picture by Elli Ioannou for DAM

The announcement that the fashion world has been waiting for: Matthieu Blazy will succeed Virginie Viard at Chanel. For the famous Parisian maison, the stakes are high, the French Belgian designer must reinvent without scaring away longtime clients and prove his ability to reimagine the Chanel style, as Karl Lagerfeld did in his time. By Delphine Dion, ESSEC

Karl Lagerfeld and Virginie Viard,

pictured together in 2000,

FOR MONTHS, the house of Chanel, one of the greatest icons of luxury, has been at a crossroads. When Karl Lagerfeld passed away in 2019, Virginie Viard, his long-time right-hand woman, succeeded him. She announced her departure in June 2024 and this change marks a decisive turning point for Chanel. The expectations for the new creative director are high: Matthieu Blazy will have to be able to open a new chapter in the history of Chanel, by redefining the aesthetics of the house while respecting its heritage.

The challenge is all the more difficult to take up since Karl Lagerfeld led the artistic creation of Chanel for more than three decades. This means that the man known for his ponytail and his sense of formula left his mark, while respecting the aesthetic codes defined by Coco Chanel. He left a deep mark on the history of fashion. His unique vision, his creativity and his personality made the house shine throughout the world. His impact was such that it was difficult to imagine the future of Chanel without Karl Lagerfeld.

Brand Dynasties

To understand all the issues involved in a successful succession to artistic direction, it is important to remember that a fashion house functions like a dynasty. Like a monarchy where successive sovereigns embody power in their own way, artistic directors succeed one another at the head of a fashion brand to embody and reinterpret its heritage. Since the death of Christian Dior in 1957, six artistic directors have succeeded one another at the head of the house, each embodying in their own way make the spirit of the house: Yves Saint-Laurent, Marc Bohan, Gianfranco Ferre, John Galliano, Raf Simons and Maria Grazia Chiuri.

When an artistic director joins a house, he immerses himself in the heritage of the house: the personality and history of the founder, the iconic pieces of the house, the symbols of the brand, the places associated with the brand, etc. He chooses the elements of the heritage that he will highlight and reinterpret in his own way. He can also bring out elements of the heritage that are less well known or more peripheral in order to renew the heritage.

Thus, Karl Lagerfeld structured Chanel's heritage around materials (tweed, gold chain, quilted leather), colors (black and white), symbols (camellia, double C), etc. And, for more than 25 years, he has continued to reinterpret this heritage. He has also enriched this heritage by introducing new codes such as the lion, in homage to Coco Chanel's astrological sign, which has become an icon of the jewellery collection.

Dynastic Transitions

Dynastic transitions are difficult times for brands. The departure of an artistic director can be fatal. Lanvin never recovered from the departure of Alber Elbaz, who was called the darling of fashion at the time. Artistic directors came and went, but none managed to pick up the torch and create the enthusiasm that Alber Elbaz had generated. Similarly, since Alessandro Michele left Gucci, sales have collapsed.

The arrival of a new artistic director can also create a new dynamic within a house by injecting new creativity. This is the case, for example, of Heidi Slimane when he joined Saint Laurent and later Celine. Each time, his work resulted in a new creative breath of fresh air and a significant increase in turnover. Enough to satisfy customers, the specialist press and... shareholders. This means that choosing a successor is a very delicate operation with major strategic issues.

The Danger of Mummification

Some artistic directors remain very close to the brand's heritage. This strategy allows the brand to be rooted in its heritage. Thus, drawing on the house's heritage, Virginie Viard has taken up certain iconic codes from Coco Chanel and Karl Lagerfeld, including tweed, two-tone ballerinas, mauves and floral muslins.

However, this strategy can cause a phenomenon of brand mummification: collections end up lacking creativity, becoming similar and tiring the public. This is what we have seen at Chanel in recent years. Virginie Viard's departure marks the end of a cycle and the need to redefine the creative vision of the house.

There is also a risk of remaining too focused on the past and missing out on new market trends. The fashion market has evolved, particularly with the rise of athleisure – i.e. the mix between sportswear and everyday clothing, sustainable fashion, discreet luxury and the arrival of new designers.

The Risk of a Revolt

Other artistic directors tend to distance themselves from the brand's heritage. This can breathe new life into the brand but can also destabilise the dynasty by moving too far away from the house's heritage. There is a risk of rebellion. For example, when arriving at Yves Saint- Laurent, Heidi Slimane renamed the brand, removing the first name "Yves", creating a protest movement among the brand's aficionados on social networks.

He moved away from the brand's heritage to propose a very personal aesthetic that broke with the history of the house. He followed the same strategy at Céline, boosting sales at both houses by creating an aesthetic that was very far removed from the brand's heritage. This could greatly complicate the task for his successor, who will struggle to ensure aesthetic continuity. These successive style breaks can produce confusion in the market and dilute the brand's identity and heritage.

The success of the artistic director also depends on how cultural intermediaries (journalists, influencers and celebrities) judge a new artistic director. To achieve this, the houses seek to have the new appointee approved by cultural intermediaries by celebrating his talent and creativity and by deciphering his creations.

 A Crucial Turning Point for Chanel

Returning to Chanel, the iconic house was at a crossroads where it had to reinvent itself, while moving forward with great caution. While respect for its heritage and values remains paramount, a bold choice like Matthieu Blazy is necessary for Chanel to maintain its place among the great fashion houses. This turning point, while delicate, represents a unique opportunity for Chanel to write a new chapter in its dynasty, faithful to its past while opening itself to the challenges of the future.

The choice of Matthieu Blazy as the next artistic director is a key moment not only for Chanel, but for the entire fashion industry, which will watch this transition process with particular interest. The fashion world is eagerly awaiting to see how he takes the reins of one of the most prestigious houses and how he will embody the Chanel spirit.

How The Cure Went Back to their Gothic Roots for their New Number One Album

The magnificent Goth heyday of The Cure in the Eighties. Photograph: Trinity Mirror/Mirrorpix/Alamy

By Neil Cocks, University of Reading

At Shrewsbury train station, there is a poster advertising The Cure’s new album, Songs of a Lost World. The confident, monochrome minimalism of the art is at odds with the rambling Victorian brickwork, yet there is a kind of sympathy there also.

At ten on a November morning, the station isn’t the most joyful of locations and so is a suitable home for a record praised for its wintery desolation. The poster helps here.

The cover art features a sculpture called Bagatelle from 1975 by the Slovenian artist Janez Pirna, which the cover’s designer chose because he pictured it “floating in space, almost as a distant relic from a forgotten time”. It also includes a new custom font, called Cureation, which is distressed and austere, and references the font used originally by the band. Like the station, these choices call upon a previous age – a lost world.

Songs of a Lost World is The Cure’s first album in 16 years. Reaching number one in the UK and now the US, some might argue it casts a pall of darkness over the pop charts; others might say it glitters a little in their reflected light. This has always been the way with The Cure.

On one side of their catalogue, we have what is known as the “unholy trinity” of early albums Seventeen Seconds, Faith and Pornography: alienated, austere, thematically dark. On the other, the shambling psychedelia of The Top and Kiss Me, the latter also featuring the blissed-out pop that helped this quintessentially English band find success in America.

In his recent book Goth: A History, the band’s former drummer Lol Tolhurst charts the genre from its 18th-century literary beginnings to its modern musical incarnation. In it, he describes how The Cure’s sound sits within this history through its unexpected influences, which range from record producer Phil Spector’s “wall of sound”, the production technique behind pop hits for The Ronettes and The Supremes, to the poetry of TS Eliot.

While Tolhurst locates the band’s sound within the gothic, frontman Robert Smith has consistently rejected the label. The difficulty in framing the band and this new album as gothic is that, like The Cure, the gothic has always been made up of contradictions.

Although nostalgic for medievalism, the gothic employs imagery that was called on by the theorist Karl Marx when discussing the alienating effects of modernity, from the “spectre … haunting Europe” in The Communist Manifesto to the “vampire life” of capital in Das Kapital.

Developed in part as a reactionary response to the revolution in France in 1789, it can be politically radical. Patriarchal, yet polymorphously perverse, pared down and baroque, glamorous and gauche, the gothic is an aesthetic devised of opposing forces.

Songs of a Lost World could be seen as a return to the darkness of The Cure’s early material. Take the lead single Alone. The lyrics turn, thematically, on death and isolation. The music has the intensity and sense of glacial doom that speaks to the fatalism and claustrophobia common to novels such as Frankenstein and Confessions of a Justified Sinner, as much as classics from the “unholy trinity” including 100 Years and A Forest.

Sinking by The Cure.

The song most clearly echoed in Alone, however, is Sinking, from The Cure’s shuffling, electronic masterpiece, The Head on the Door (1985). Both songs are lengthy and stately. They let the listener wait for most of their length before introducing Smith’s brief and despairing vocals. Despite the pared-down instrumentation of both tracks, the sound created has a density that calls upon the “wall of sound” production technique that defined The Cure’s most psychedelic and joyful recordings.

But this pulling between brightness and darkness, “the unholy trinity” and the pop excess of the other half of their catalogue, represents the band’s gothic heart. This is what makes Songs of a Lost World goth and the Cure goth too, whether Smith likes it or not.

Neil Cocks, Associate Professor in the Department of English Literature, University of Reading

What the Notre Dame Restoration Says About France’s Past and its Future

The facade of Notre Dame de Paris after a five-year restoration. A fire in 2019 devastated the world heritage building and toppled its spire. More than 250 companies and hundreds of experts worked to restore the cathedral. Photograph above: AFP/Christophe Petit Tesson/Pool. Cover picture by Elli Ioannou for DAM

By Bradley Stephens, University of Bristol:

Visitors rediscovering Paris’s Notre Dame cathedral will be stepping into a highly charged conversation about France’s past and its future. Both sacred and secular, the cathedral tellingly illustrates the conflict between tradition and reform in France, as a historically Catholic and imperial power tries to adapt to its multicultural and postcolonial present.

After the blaze that engulfed Notre Dame in April 2019, the French government quickly announced a competition to redesign the cathedral’s roof and spire. But the following month, 55% of respondents to a public poll favoured preserving the original design.

A row eventually erupted between Jean-Louis Georgelin, the army general in charge of Notre Dame’s reconstruction, and the cathedral’s chief architect, Philippe Villeneuve. Their exchange (Georgelin told Villeneuve to “shut his mouth”) typified the tension between those who believed something new could emerge from the ashes, and those who wanted Notre Dame to be rebuilt exactly as it was.

Ironically, the “original” edifice many French people wished to recreate was, itself, a new creation. It was architect Eugène Viollet-le-Duc’s modern reimagining of medievalism, designed during his mid-19th-century restoration of the cathedral. He argued that “to restore a building is not to preserve it” but to “reinstate it”. Viollet-le-Duc understood the preservation of the past as an act of rehabilitation that required a modern touch if history was to live on.

Macron’s soft power

In a similar vein, by the summer of 2020, President Emmanuel Macron had dropped the idea of a dramatic revamp. The French National Commission of Heritage and Architecture even recommended eschewing modern, potentially more sustainable, building materials.

They did, however, envisage modernising the cathedral’s access and surroundings to better manage its 14 million annual visitors. Their approval of the related interior refurbishments and new lighting effects deepened the general discord.

The essayist Alain Finkielkraut and the historian Pierre Nora blasted the plans as “kitsch” in the New York Times. Notre Dame’s then rector, Patrick Chauvet, countered that they would make more sense for visitors and connect the cathedral’s medieval origins with the modern day.

Neither view has yet resolved the quarrel over Macron’s desire to introduce new stained-glass windows in the side-chapels. Despite these ongoing disagreements, reactions to last Friday’s images from inside Notre Dame suggest that the president’s resolve for an ambitious renovation has paid off.

Touring the site, Macron posted a picture on X (formerly known as Twitter) of the assembled crowd. Photographed from the galleries, some 1,300 members of the restoration team stood cradled within the newly bright nave. Its walls had been cleaned, not just of soot, but also of the dirt that had accumulated since Viollet-le-Duc’s restoration.

This was French solidarity cast in its most sublime light. And Macron’s instinct for soft power was on full display. “To realise the impossible together. This is France,” he tweeted.

Macron was using the reborn Notre Dame as a recognisable symbol of endurance and unity to reiterate his faith in French exceptionalism. Expressing France’s deep gratitude for the monument being “repaired, reinvented and rebuilt”, he has channelled this spirit of renewal into a national mood beset by the same decline that has increasingly hamstrung his presidency.

France’s fears of waning international influence and of growing internal dissent have powered a “booming industry” of national self-doubt. The cathedral’s €700 million (£582 million) renovation helps to counterbalance that insecurity. Not least in a year when the Olympics have drawn the eyes of the world to Paris.

Victor Hugo’s Notre Dame

By harnessing Notre Dame’s combination of a sense of institution with the spirit of innovation, Macron was imitating one of his heroes – Victor Hugo. Hugo’s bestselling 1831 novel, Notre-Dame de Paris (The Hunchback of Notre-Dame), was integral in making the cathedral a beloved icon.

Victor Hugo is one of Macron’s heroes. The National Library of France

Hugo mustered public support for the cathedral’s restoration after it had been vandalised during the French Revolution. He roused public sentiment by comparing the building to flesh that had been wrinkled by time and bruised by revolt.

Yet Macron would also do well to remember that this vision of Notre Dame remains as much a warning against complacency as it does an ode to its unifying majesty. That warning is apt in a week when his latest government looks almost certain to fall.

For Hugo, nothing remains unchanged through the ebb and flow of time, making continuity and rupture part of the same universal law of creation. This is why his novel – a “cathedral of poetry”, as historian Jules Michelet put it – thinks in nuanced instead of categorical ways about the fluidity between the past and the future.

Hugo’s Notre Dame is “an edifice of transition”, mirroring France itself. Marked by both Romanesque and gothic styles and built over successive centuries, it is a collective and continuing achievement: at once whole and diverse. For Hugo, it therefore nurtures the multifaceted outlook that he argued exemplifies France’s potential to welcome, inspire and elevate all people.

The western façade and parvis of Notre-Dame in 1699. WikiCommons

At the very heart of Paris, Notre Dame invites visitors to see beyond the dividing lines between this and that, then and now, and them versus us. But Hugo also insists that the “vast symphony” he hears ringing in Notre Dame’s bells and across its history has the sound of a storm.

In his romantic understanding of the way opposites are intimately interconnected, foreboding uncertainty and forthright conviction ultimately go hand in hand.

The future is not set in stone and so obliges us to be vigilant and to continue working. With an additional €140 million from worldwide donations to invest in Notre Dame’s future preservation, France is well positioned to meet this obligation. The cathedral’s fortunes nevertheless serve as a reminder that the social togetherness dreamt of in France’s revolutionary history – and in its future ambitions – requires concrete labour, not just vivid imagination.

Bradley Stephens, Professor of French Literature, University of Bristol

Fun Ways to Update Your Look

NOT HAPPY with your style when you look in the mirror? Maybe there’s nothing wrong with it, but it just doesn’t spark joy in you anymore. Don’t worry because there are tons of things you can do to update your look, and have lots of fun!

Image: Pexels CCO Licence

1. Accessorise Like You Mean It

If you think accessories are just necklaces and belts, think again. We’re talking hats that could double as conversation starters, chunky scarves that scream “I’m interesting, ask me about my Netflix recommendations,” and retro shades that make you look like a secret agent on holiday. Not sure where to begin? Start small—swap your usual watch for something bold, or try layering a couple of bracelets. If someone comments that your jewellery box seems to have exploded all over you, just smile sweetly. 

2. Experiment with Hair (Frizz Not Included)

Your hair is basically a built-in fashion accessory you carry around every day, so why not have some fun with it? Chop it, dye it, braid it—whatever feels exciting. Dare to go short and sassy or opt for a fringe that’ll make you look like a whimsical poet. Bored of the same old highlights? Try a vibrant hue or a pastel wash. Let your hair be the exclamation point on your style statement instead of an apologetic full stop.

Image: Pexels - CCO Licence

3. Get a Brow Piercing (or Something Equally Unexpected)

Fancy adding a bit of edge to your face without resorting to dodgy contouring tutorials? Consider a brow piercing. This little sparkly addition is both edgy and fun—plus, it gives you an excuse to raise an eyebrow mysteriously at anyone who dares question your fashion choices. If a brow piercing isn’t your thing, there are loads of other piercing options—from subtle nose studs to ear curation that’s more like ear artistry. Just do your research and pick a reputable studio.

4. Embrace the Power of Pattern-Clashing

Long gone are the days when fashionistas fainted at the thought of mixing stripes with florals. In 2024, the “rules” about what goes with what are about as outdated as shoulder pads (unless you’re bringing those back too). Don’t be afraid to try something wild—polka dots and plaid, checks and houndstooth, or even tie-dye and leopard print if you’re feeling especially rebellious. If anyone accuses you of dressing in the dark, just tell them it’s called “fashion fusion,” darling.

5. Adopt a Signature Quirk

Sometimes, updating your look isn’t about overhauling your entire wardrobe—it’s about adding something that’s oh-so-uniquely you. Maybe it’s a signature scent that wafts through the room, causing heads to turn and nostrils to flare (in a good way, obviously). Perhaps it’s a signature accessory, like a vintage brooch or a distinctive hat you always wear. It could even be that pair of rainbow trainers you bust out every weekend. Whatever it is, embrace it with gusto.

Don’t overthink it. Style is supposed to be fun, so have a ball updating yours!

Wicked Film Review: A Stunning Film Adaptation that Avoids All the Usual Pitfalls of Moving Musicals from the Stage to the Screen

In the new film Wicked, Ariana Grande plays Glinda the Good Witch and Cynthia Erivo is Elphaba. Universal Pictures. Cover by Elli Ioannou for DAM

By Julian Woolford, University of Surrey

The journey from successful stage musical to big-screen adaptation is rarely truly successful. From director Joshua Logan’s use of coloured filters in the 1950s adaptation of South Pacific (which looks as if something is wrong) to Tom Hooper’s recent mega-mess movie of Cats, there are so many pitfalls to avoid.

The suspension of disbelief we willingly embrace in live performance is disrupted by the naturalism of cinema so that the aggressive ballet of the West Side Story gangs looks prissy and tame when filmed on the realistically gritty streets of New York. Similarly, Nathan Lane’s Max Bailystock was hilarious onstage in The Producers, but translates to the film as monstrous over-acting.

Like these musicals, Wicked has proven a remarkable success onstage and is the second highest-grossing musical in the history of New York’s Broadway (after The Lion King). Now it arrives on-screen in two parts; the first released this year and the second in 2025. Eyebrows have been raised at the 2 hour 40 minute running time for a movie that covers act one of the musical, which is 90 minutes onstage.

Inspired by figures like Saddam Hussein, Wicked began life in 1995 as a novel by Gregory Maguire who, drawing on L. Frank Baum’s 1900 novel The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, wanted to explore how certain figures became demonised in society.

Set in the years before Dorothy crash lands in Oz, the story shows the Wicked Witch to not be evil; she is, in fact, good, becoming radicalised by the broken politics of Oz.

The novel was bought almost immediately by Demi Moore and Universal Studios who struggled to develop a screenplay until composer Stephen Schwartz suggested it became a stage musical.

Working with author Winnie Holzman, they created a female-centric story that jettisoned much of Maguire’s politics to concentrate on the “frenemy” relationship between “pretty in pink” Glinda and the green-skinned outsider, Elphaba.

Director John M Chu’s movie takes Wicked back to its political roots. In a time when populist leaders are on the rise, it arrives as a warning of the dangers of modern fascism.

In particular, it expands the storyline of Oz’s speaking animals who lose their voices. Unlike onstage, these animals are CGI characters in fully animal form and Chu captures how societies are stunned into silence by outrageous political actions. In doing so, he emphasises the unthinking unkindness of the herd mentality. He also makes the film a paean to the power of goodwill.

Set mostly during the Wicked Witch’s schooling years, Shiz University is also more fleshed out. In this section, the movie is in danger of losing its narrative thrust. However, just as we begin to feel trapped in the love child of Mean Girls and Harry Potter, we are whizzed off to the Emerald City.

Here Maguire’s backstory to the Grimmerie, the Ozian book of spells, is now musicalized in a new sequence featuring the original stage stars Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth, and topped by a cameo from Stephen Schwartz. Once in the City, Jeff Goldblum’s Wizard proves a scheming huckster too aware of his own limitations

One of the classic pitfalls of the movie musical is in casting. From Lucille Ball in Mame to Russell Crowe in Les Misérables, missteps here can prove fatal. Thankfully, Wicked is expertly cast.

Ariana Grande captures the over-dramatising spoilt brat Galinda (to become Glinda the Good Witch), with precision vocals. Jonathan Bailey has a ball with the athletic, knowingly objectified heartthrob Fieryo, cementing his place as a leading man. Michelle Yeoh and Jeff Goldblum bring sinister gravitas and reasonable vocals to their respective roles.

However, the casting masterstroke is Cynthia Erivo as Elphaba who brings the quiet dignity to the role that she first revealed onstage in The Color Purple. As a queer black woman, for her, Elphaba’s story is one of pride, this is a woman who refuses to be ashamed of who she is and is determined to fulfil her potential.

She has a distinctive singing voice and the confidence to erase memories of Menzel’s stylings. Film also brings dimensions to Erivo’s talent. The use of close-ups allows an intimacy in her relationships that is impossible in a live setting. She is also able to show her ability to convey the pain she is suffering in a simple glance.

The film is a remarkable feat of 2D and 3D design and there are a dazzling array of quotes to other cinematic renderings of the Oz legends, all of which are delivered with a contemporary sensibility. This is a mechanically driven Oz, full of cogs and wheels, which reference the stage design of Wicked and includes a stylish train.

The costume designs reference both the stage show and the all-black disco musical The Wiz (1978). While the memories of the iconic Judy Garland’s 1939 movie are prompted every few minutes. In one scene, for instance, Elphaba transports a (cowardly) lion cub in a bicycle basket reminiscent of Toto’s dog-napping.

MGM changed Baum’s silver slippers to ruby (and the Wicked Witch’s skin to green) to showcase the newly developed Technicolor process. In this film they remain silver but are first presented in a ruby-encrusted box. There’s also nods to Baum’s original. Notably, the strangeness of the book’s Oz is more accurately captured than in any other cinematic version.

The best musical theatre is like experiencing a series of highwire acts in which the performers must flawlessly execute choreography, act convincingly and hit the highnotes eight times a week. Musical films, which can be re-shot and overdubbed, necessarily lack this sense of danger.

If at times Wicked struggles to capture the sheer energy of the stage, it re-imagines the work in a spectacular, but also thoughtful fashion, deepening serious themes and emotional connection. I will be back to see it and will undoubtedly see the four-plus hours in one sitting once part two is released next autumn. I only wish Judy Garland could see it.

Julian Woolford, Head of Musical Theatre, GSA, University of Surrey