Editorial

On the auspicious 125th anniversary of this magazine one is more conscious than normal of the burden history places on the editorial yoke of such venerable publications as Phoenix. I was initially impressed with all the doubts and uncertainties you might imagine when embarking on this foreword. However even the most cursory glance at the recent issues of this periodical makes one thing abundantly clear; at the risk of coining a cliché, the only constant is change. More precisely in this case what remains consistent is rebirth. Every modern volume of Phoenix in its annual format has been compiled by a new editor, bringing his or her unique vision. Perhaps if there is a second constant, it is boldness, as the editor of an annual, letters of complaint will probably not reach me. As they will have no effect it is doubtful that anyone would bother to write one. So I find myself somewhat emboldened. I am free to imprint these pages with my mark and leave. As Phoenix 2012 experiences its transient moment in the present, poised in its voyage between future and obscurity, I would be neglecting my duty if I did not launch my one broadside; sincere, possibly provocative and unashamedly pompous.

So what is the agenda of this editor? Simply, I intend the tone of the pages that follow to be celebratory. This volume is dedicated to those individuals who arrive at Imperial, perceive its shortcomings and, in the face of prevailing winds of indifference, walk calmly and purposefully towards the storm. They are instructed that scientists cannot be creative. They are advised that they will have no time to develop their talents. They are warned that they should not seek a career in the arts on graduating. They are gently told that they will find no audience for their music, paintings, poetry or prose at Imperial nor, most likely, in the wider world. They are inundated with these gospels and they ignore them all; proceeding regardless with stiff lips and firm step. In short, they are better men and women than I.

Is this magazine shameless propaganda designed to tempt students away from the polished glass bosom and financial security of banking into the grimy half-light of the dangerous and possibly immoral world of the creative arts? In short, yes. This is not due to a malicious desire to see the graduates of this college descend into penury, nor even a righteous mission to deprive those clammy handed, dollar-eyed square mile dwellers of their annual supply of fresh craniums. Young minds are damaged when they are restricted. The world loses opportunities and we are all the poorer if we prevent the disparate but falsely disjointed worlds of art and science from mingling.

In my years at Imperial it has been my privilege to meet vast numbers of hugely talented individuals. Where the green shoots of talent have been in technical arena I have seen them nourished and blossom. However the environment too often is such that germination in more creative clines has been aborted or stunted by acidic soil and a poisonous atmosphere. At the risk of stretching a metaphor beyond its ultimate tensile strength it is my fervent hope that in the shelter of the hardy shrubs featured in the magazine new plants will grow, and soon a forest.

To abruptly remove ourselves from this figurative and botanical plane; you will find within these pages a number of interviews with Imperial students past and present in additon to as much work as I could cram in. I fervently hope that this provides enough inspiration to prompt you to dust off your own sketchbooks, pick up your quill or guitar and give your hidden passions the time and energy they deserve.