SIMON DUFF relishes the cross contamination of Damien Hirst’s greatest hits by street artists from France and the US
Alma Mater
Almeida, London
THE power of Kendall Feaver’s Alma Mater at first seems to lie in its central theme: the battle of feminism in a still profoundly male-dominated world.
The setting is an Oxford College. The “master” of the college is Jo, the first woman ever to fill the role. A student in her third year (Nikki) has become a classic activist who confronts Jo with a terrible reality: namely that a rampant “rape culture” thrives on her watch. Meanwhile new student Paige is raped on her first night at the college by a “nice” studious boy who ignores the concept of consent because he’s drunk – or so his mother later explains. Bad boy behaviour is thus rife but barely recognised by the college hierarchy.
Many details in the play resonate with us; we know them already from other contexts. And the plethora of stories that emerge bring to mind a range of media reports, other plays we’ve seen, films and familiar rhetoric... nothing new here. But it is the diversity of feminist argument – interspersed with subtle questions around race and religion – that marks out the work and excites an audience already schooled in political labelling and social-media-style denouncement.
MARY CONWAY revels in the Irish American language and dense melancholy of O’Neill’s last and little-known play
MARY CONWAY applauds the revival of a tense, and extremely funny, study of men, money and playing cards



