Having opened her doors in 1889, Teviot Row House has been subject to hordes of Edinburgh students for well over a century, and on the eve of her 134th birthday, she will close her doors for a well-deserved refurbishment – a face-lift, if you will – for almost the next two years. And though our trusty Student Association insists that Teviot will retain her historic character, I feel we will have to bid goodbye forever to our sweet Teviot Row House as we know it. Like most people who surpass their centenary, a desire for modernity and ease of life is sought after This is what the next two years hopes to provide. Ease of access, ease of navigation, and ease of toilet finding.
But in making Teviot increasingly modern, what are we sacrificing? A Scottish heritage that is steadily
dwindling as an increasingly non-Scottish population moves into city spaces? Or an out-of-date, archaic building conceived during the height of the patriarchy built by men who would look down on well over ¾ of the current student population? This then begs the question, are the students of tomorrow being represented by the buildings we inhabit today?
Apparently not, according to the Student Association, and I applaud their commitment and genuine intention to provide spaces that are accessible to all. And even more so, I praise the University for scrambling together the funds to achieve this following Mathieson’s £43k pay rise and offer the greatest commiserations to the underpaid University staff who were outbid by a building. One thing that will hopefully remain in the past are the infamous Teviot playlists. Whether it be in the New Amphion, where you may be driven insane by the same three lo-fi tunes repeated over and over and over, or the Writing Room, with genre-switching songs at neck-breaking speed, I can hope that the students of Spring 2025 do not have to endure the same harrowing pain as studying to both Mitski and Carly Rae Jepsen in the same five minute period.
But for all her quips and quirks, her confusing layout and arguably overpriced espresso martinis, I will miss Teviot. Whether it be studying from 9am in the Café, to playing pool in the Sports Bar, or fighting
for a seat during exam season, the University has truly lost (even temporarily) a character that plays a large role in the everyday life of Edinburgh students. And I hope you all, like me, will be waiting with avid anticipation for Teviot’s return in Spring 2025 to oversee students for another century.
Featured illustration via Tommy Manning