Next up, our neighbours.
Located only a 19 minute walk away from University of Sydney’s Darlington campus is University of Technology Sydney (UTS) — a university distinct for its skyscraper terrain, á la mode fashion style, and irreplicable student culture. Should you find yourself in one of the many buildings across UTS’s campus or scrolling on Instagram reels, you might also find their student magazine, Vertigo.
This is instalment two of our student media spotlight; an opportunity to learn about the breadth and brightness of the Australian student media landscape.
Vertigo was born in March of 1973 and recently celebrated its 50th birthday last year with its cardinal editor, Ross Gittins, amongst the panel of alumni reflecting on its lifespan. On behalf of Honi, I was lucky enough to attend the event from which began my interest in the cool and fashionable magazine just down the road. Regardless, modern day Vertigo is, comparably, still a baby. But its late-20th-century inception has not stifled its impact on student journalism.
Vertigo was actually born as Newswit, an iteration of UTS’s predecessor institution, NSW Institution of Technology, with the vision of publishing a ‘by students for students’ newspaper. The scope ranged anywhere from the Vietnam War to workers against the anti-strike laws. But as the years stacked up, so did the institutional pressures of upholding a student publication. The NSW Institute of Technology became UTS in 1988 and, after only a few silent years later in 1991, Vertigo magazine was born. Interestingly, the name, Vertigo, is an homage to the campus’s iconic brutalist building, UTS Tower, which can cause the sensory dizziness of vertigo for those standing at its peak.
So from a political newspaper to temporarily non-existent and now a pillar of student culture, Vertigo has had many lives — I’m confident it will be a while before we have seen their last.
To better understand the fabric of Vertigo and its layering within the UTS ecosphere, I sat down with Ty Seeto and Mia Rankin who made that 19 minute journey down to the Wentworth dungeon. Ty Seeto is Vertigo’s 2024 passionate Editor-in-Chief, responsible for the “orchestrating” of this year’s vision, exploring the depths of student politics and leading the team of 12 editors. Mia Rankin is Vertigo’s Arts and Culture editor, informed by their innovative work in Zine-making and nuanced taste for the music and theatre scene.
Vertigo now publishes a mixture of print issues, online articles, podcasts and video media. When asked what the magazine’s strongest appeal is, Rankin described a vision of an “open and accessible” space in which students from “any discipline can produce work they are proud of.”
Echoing this and referencing the diversity of voices and students they platform, Seeto said, “it isn’t right for a student publication to ignore a large part of the student populous” and told Honi that “Vertigo is a space for everyone.”
Whilst in reference to ‘spaces’, Vertigo has had a challenging time keeping their own office space after it was reallocated to another student group at the end of last year. With a strained giggle, Seeto revealed that the Vertigo team “has been camping out at the activist space” and has had inconsistent access to their equipment but have still fought to produce quality media for their students. Unfortunately, the perils of funding cuts and complex relations with University of technology Sydney Student Association (UTSSA) yet again place student media in a pressure cooker, with further budget reductions expected to be introduced this year.
Seeto remains hopeful for a constructive future and said that their “editorship will work to build a good relationship with UTSSA in the interest of preserving student media.”
Cutting through the fatigue of funding talk, Rankin reminded Honi that student media is a rare platform to showcase the art that students invest their energy into, feeling “proud” that they are part of a magazine that can facilitate this. UTS is renowned for its talented design faculty and curated student culture that can neither be overstated nor overlooked — not to mention their not-to-be missed fashion content on Instagram reels and TikTok.
Despite a recurring sentiment that Vertigo has been stifled by factors and circumstances out of their control, our discussions always circled back to the students. Seeto and Rankin embody their magazine’s ethos of “made for, run by, and in the spirit of UTS students.”
It’s this unyielding dedication to platforming a diversity in student voices despite what mainstream media may make convention, or what finance reports institutions may dish out, that makes Vertigo such a valuable neighbour to us and magazine to all.
