Rum, anyone?

Booking events for Cultural eXchanges proved rather problematic. Each time the website declared it was 'timed out' - an obvious lie. I knew it couldn't take twenty minutes to book four tickets. This caused me to lose the little faith I had in the festival. Spending a week at home, tucked up in my bed, clutching a copy of Bram Stoker's Dracula seemed much more inviting, even if I was reading the novel before beginning the essay I'd already put off for weeks.

Fortunately, my faith was restored after Michael McMillan's The Front Room, a poignant yet humorous presentation, speaking of the lives of immigrants moving to Britain during the 1950's and 1960's. Their expedition to England was 'like going to the moon,' leaving their old lives behind, and creating a new identity amongst the terraced houses which seemed so unusual to the newcomers. McMillan described England as 'the land of milk and honey' which, in all honesty, greatly amused me. I'd much rather be sat on a Caribbean beach, soaking up some of those much needed sun-rays and sipping on some good ol' rum.

Later, Alexei Sayle made an appearance, after being delayed in London traffic during the rush-hour. I was too young to know The Young Ones so my friends took the opportunity to educate me prior to Alexei’s visit. I endured watching the comedy on retro VHS, wondering what on earth the characters were wearing. Sat right at the back of the lecture theatre, all I could see were the tops of two bald heads. Despite this, I laughed on numerous occasions, and left the Clephan Building clutching a signed copy of Alexei Sayle's Mister Roberts - and knowing his mother had never allowed him to watch Bambi.

Laura

"What does your front room say about you?"

When curator Michael McMillan confronted his audience on Monday (01/03/10) at Leicester’s Cultural eXchanges event with the idea that the front room reflects the respectability of house owners, I thought that is exactly what should be on the agenda of De Montfort University’s services.

Apparently, the Caribbean immigrants of the 50s and 60s had to sell themselves to the outside world to gain acceptance. From my experience, some students do not even remotely understand what that means.

Front rooms are the only public spaces in the privacy of our homes. Caribbean immigrants used fancy photos, religious paintings such as the last supper or expensive new acquisitions to express their morality and decency. Students' homes that I have seen in Leicester - or in various other places around the world - do not explicitly earn that respectability.

As a German international student, it is awkward at first to see British streets with identical terraced houses – I can absolutely relate to the impression those immigrants had. At least they made the inside representational of their individuality.

Students, on the other hand, often leave their rooms completely unattended – no matter whether that concerns cleanness, inventory or elegancy. They all resemble each other.

I think a proper introduction to “the front room - my soul, my sin” at universities could help. For my house next year, I will keep McMillan’s advice in mind: “If you and your front room look good, you will be respected.”

More about The Front Room here.

Nico Lehmann

"More British than the British"

"Writer, curator and installation artist" Michael McMillan took as his focus was the front room in the houses of West Indian immigrants. This was the room which was used to greet guests. It presented the aspirations of its occupants to the rest of the world.

The room was kitsch, over the top, and garish. Despite this, almost every object had great significance. Michael McMillan had collected items that would now be considered antiques and they gave those who have never experienced a room like this a feel of what it was like. At a glance all those who were present could see this part of a West Indian home.

The room was exactly like the one my grandparents had. As second generation immigrants, my parents would have been banished from this room. It might even have been locked and must have become the focus of fascination - even obsession.

This was a history I hadn’t ever heard. It explained many things that had seemed strange to me. My grandparents' ornaments are now more valuable in my mind. My relatives came with nothing and were able to acquire all this in their lifetime.

Kimberly Redway