The interview began, as the best things often do, in a kitchen. Introductions drifted over lovely sourdough bread dipped in citrus-laced oil; the hum of conversation underscored by Col’s (carefully curated) Spotify playlist. It was in this atmosphere – warm, easy, deeply familiar – that I became better acquainted with one of Cambridge’s most striking student-led exhibitions yet. More specifically, it was here that I sat down with the three women at its helm: Colette Grice, Esther Magedera, and Katya Kirby.
The exhibition in question is due to take place later this month across Lord Colyton Hall and the White Room, two of Gonville & Caius College’s most grand, most traditionally masculine spaces. As we sat, I was struck by how the informality of the evening – friends gathered around a dinner table, soundtracked by the clatter of cutlery – stood in such stark contrast to the weighty institutional pressure that padded beyond the basement’s walls. And yet, as I would come to learn, this was very much the point.
For all its grandeur, this project is not about tradition. It is not a standard exhibition, nor is it a simple fundraiser. It is an interrogation, a disruption: an assertion of presence at a University that has, for centuries, dictated who may be admitted to occupy it and on what terms. No students have ever gained access to these rooms prior to now, minus the most exclusive of formal occasions; historically, they have served solely as the domain of drinks receptions and May Ball programme-fillers, never as a site for severing ties with convention. To transform them into an exhibition space, one that foregrounds femininity, is to challenge the very nature of these rooms: to reconfigure them into something much more dynamic, inclusive, and alive. In this, Col, Katya, and Esther are not merely hanging paintings on walls; they are making an argument about who gets to take up space, who gets to be seen, and how these questions intersect with art, gender, and power.
“‘We noticed how there was still a lot of resistance, on multiple levels, to having a space dedicated to feminine appreciation’”
The exhibition’s conceptual origins stretch back to an earlier event – a smaller but no less ambitious attempt at integrating art into new spaces. “I’m the president of Clarissa’s Campaign for Cambridge Hearts,” Esther begins, referring to the initiative dedicated to funding ECG screenings for Cambridge students in memory of Clarissa Nicholls. “Katya and I held an event [for the campaign] at the start of Lent. It was very exciting, a lot of hard work, but we ended up selling over 180 tickets. It was very successful.”
From the start, they wanted to experiment with format. “It was the first time that anyone in Cambridge, at least from what we know, has done something like it. An exhibition raising money for something, that then turns into a party,” Esther explains. “We had four DJs that played until 1 a.m. So it was completely new. It wasn’t just art, it wasn’t just dance. It was a whole, collective event.”
It was this spirit of collectivity that prompted the next phase. “And then,” Esther continues, “I got a message from my friend Jamie saying, ‘A lovely lady called Colette Grice would like to speak to you. Are you happy for me to give her your number?’ And then you came,” she says, gesturing to Col. “And that was wonderful.”
Though introduced to the first exhibition by chance, it wasn’t just the event itself that caught Col’s attention; it was the conversations it inspired. “I was walking around, and Katya […] had done an incredible job,” Col explains. “But I could see where you were like, ‘Oh, if only!’ Wouldn’t it be amazing if we had the opportunity to actually do an exhibition that kind of encompassed some of the ideas that we had before? I think it’s really important that we raise money off the back of this, but also have fun with it – do it in a space that is going to be a real challenge.”
Katya, who was responsible for curating the first event, had found the process exhilarating. “That was a massive deal for me, curating the last exhibition, because I suddenly realised I love going to museums, I love looking at art, and I love appreciating good art.” But she had also found it limiting. “I know there are so many students in Cambridge who do art, […] so I wanted to get everyone together for a cause, to create these beautiful pieces, and for people to appreciate them.”
The response to their first exhibition reinforced this belief. “It was kind of a mix of all different things that seemed to really work, and people really seemed to enjoy it,” Esther says. “So we were like, okay, let’s get together – the three of us – and work on something. That exhibition walked so this one can run.”
And run they did. “This time, we’re doing it in the most gorgeous rooms in Caius,” Esther continues. “It’s more formal, yes, but it’s also a chance to push things further. We proved last time that there’s an appetite for this, that people want spaces where art is part of something bigger.”
Col interjects with a wink. “And we’ve really pulled it off. I think we’re extremely lucky with where we managed to get.”
Yet, for all the aesthetic weight of the rooms and the depth of thought behind the exhibition’s concept, its organisers are adamant that the event should feel open, social, and – above all – welcoming. “Even though this event is quite formal […] and we want people to dress nicely, they don’t have to dress in a simple way,” Esther explains. “We want them to be able to express [themselves].” More than anything, she wants to ensure the exhibition doesn’t become an exclusionary or overly serious affair. “I really don’t want this to feel like a thing where everyone goes, stays still, looks at art, moves around, then leaves,” she insists. Instead, she sees it as something expansive, a kind of ripple effect where attendees bring in others, filling the space with warmth rather than pretension. “I think we need to see it as that this is an event for friends, of friends, of friends, of friends of friends of friends, which is the entire University,” she says. “We are doing this because we all love it and we want everyone else to come for the same reason.”
This accessibility extends beyond ethos. The organisers have worked to make the logistics of the evening as seamless as possible – ensuring that the exhibition is not just a static display but a lively, integrated event. “It goes upstairs into Lord Colyton Hall, and then into the White Room,” Col explains, “but we’ll also have the bar [open] as a social space.” The goal is simple: to ensure that everyone can enjoy themselves, irrespective of background.
The exhibition’s thematic focus also derived from a dialogue that their previous exhibit highlighted. “It occurred to us to call it Femininity because the last exhibit we did was called Mind & Body – something completely up to interpretation, nothing to do with gender, nothing to do with sex, nothing,” Katya recalls. And yet, in spite of that broad scope, something striking happened: “A lot of art that was created, owing to its being rooted in Clarissa’s Campaign, was centred around women and appreciating women; they wanted to associate their art with the cause, naturally.” This unintended but overwhelming presence of feminine-coded artwork in their previous exhibition dislodged an underlying tension: “We noticed how there was still a lot of resistance, on multiple levels, to having a space dedicated to feminine appreciation. You notice that in women as well as non-women.”
“‘There are some people who are thinking, ‘I’ve never been to one before. Why would I go now? What would I get from it?’ […] No – it can be your first exhibition, and we’re very happy for it to be’”
Pink Week’s involvement presented the perfect opportunity to be explicit. “This is the perfect opportunity to create a space where femininity is acknowledged and appreciated,” Katya continues, “and not in the sense of isolating Clarissa because she was a woman, or isolating the fact that Pink Week is about breast cancer awareness. It’s purely up to how you interpret femininity […] Anyone can get involved because everyone has a feminine side to them.”
The very space in which the exhibition will be held adds another layer of meaning to this reclamation. “There’s at least four paintings of white men on the wall,” Col notes. “It can be quite a heavy atmosphere. These are rooms designed by men. They’re not female spaces, not really. Yes, women can be in them, but they weren’t made for women.” It is this context that makes the exhibition such a powerful intervention. “I think there’s a lot of power in acknowledging that we’re here, that there’s artwork being created all over Cambridge and beyond that. [Acknowledging how] we are going to start taking up these spaces for really important causes.”
But crucially, this interrogation of gender and space does not come at the cost of artistic freedom. The breadth of submissions already received is testament to this. “I like the fact that the theme is femininity as an umbrella term and there is no definition beyond that – no, smaller, supplementary subtitle to the theme,” Esther explains. “And the art that we’ve already received is so varied… it ranges all the way from, you know, life drawings of women to something completely abstract. […] But when we saw it, we felt it.” That instinct, that immediate recognition of something unspoken, is what makes the theme so compelling. When asked whether they’re looking for anything in particular, Katya’s response was clear: “Absolutely not, because if it’s not how you interpret femininity, it’s not what femininity is.”
“‘they can sit and look pretty for once!’”
The exhibition’s setting is equally weighted with history. “When we went in there, [we saw] the portraits of these men and we asked who they were, but not much knowledge was actually given,” Katya says. The past lingers on the walls, but this time, it will not be the dominant presence in the room. “Everything we’re putting up is freestanding, so everything is going to be physically in the space rather than set backwards,” she explains. “But we’re using that because it’s literally disrupting their space. And it shows: they’re still here, we’re not taking them down. We’re just creating a space that welcomes more.”
Col grins at this. “Yeah, they can sit and look pretty for once!”
Beyond the artistic vision, logistical considerations have also played a vital role in shaping the event. Col reflects on the decision-making process: “The simplest method for us all was the most important thing because we all know how difficult it can be to convince people to go and do stuff if they’ve got to go through complicated means.”
Then there is the matter of where this all takes place. Though the event could theoretically have been hosted elsewhere, Caius became an intrinsic part of its meaning. “I was asked very quickly whether we were looking at holding this in other colleges,” Col explains. “Obviously, Clarissa herself went to Tit Hall; Pink Week happens in every college. Circumstantially we’ve ended up at Caius, but I think that’s why it’s even more important for us.” Of course, this development very much situates the event in the political architecture of Caius as an institution.
This question of accessibility is something they have actively sought to address. “I really hope we can give it a good shot at not changing the audience but expanding it,” Esther reflects. “There are some people who are thinking, ‘I’ve never been to one before. Why would I go now? What would I get from it?’ […] No – it can be your first exhibition, and we’re very happy for it to be.”
Col agrees. “Ultimately, I don’t think a lot of people enjoy art when they’re going for the experience [of saying so] alone,” she says. “I think all that really matters is that you care about your friends who are artists or you take interest in engaging in college experiences or you just want a drink. [It’s] going to be a good night out because it’s designed to be.”
She pauses, leans back and smiles. “And then you can fall in love and you can invite us to the wedding.”
And with that, the doors are open. The exhibition takes place on 22 March at 5pm in Lord Colyton Hall and the White Room, Gonville & Caius College. Entry is free, with optional donations on entry, but space is limited to a guest list. Although the deadline for submission has now passed, feel free to get involved in other ways by contacting kk813@cam.ac.uk – whether you’re bringing art or just yourself, this is a night to be part of.
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