A day in the life of Barefoot in the Park…
Posted in Uncategorized on 08 Jun 2010 | No Comments
Though the rains hit Hyde Park by 11am on Sunday morning, our early bird catches the worm approach (up with the lark at 5am, no less!) meant the tents were up and ready to shield our gentle temples from the inclemency. On Saturday we’d have been singing, ‘Mr Blue Sky’, but as it was, The Beatle’s ”Here comes the rain” would have to suffice.
Though we joked often that it would have been more appropriate for the festival to take the title ‘Wellies in the Park’, we were still in full style at Barefoot in the Park, with our brand new, exciting Arts & Vintage tent displaying juicy sculptures from Gaia Colorni; a 1000 colour painting by Thom Green; whip sharp, cleverly-detailed illustrations from superbly talented Luke Farookhi; and striking, intense portraits of pain from Lucy Bailey (whose fantastic Barefoot in the Park signs adorned the festival site). The excellent vintage sellers Dusty & Dylan, and Headingley’s Vintage Wardrobe, had a cracking range of retro fashion on sale that had the Barefoot team longing for a bit of free time to rifle through the treasure trove of items on their racks.
Despite the drizzle, spirits were never dampened, thanks to a stream of delicious cupcakes, flapjack, shortbread, and chocolate muffins from Festival favourites Michel’s Bakery. These delights were all washed down with copious polystyrene cups of tea and coffee, served from an array of teapots by the chipper Barefoot lasses from shelter of Woodhouse Moor’s Bowls Pavilion.
We kicked off the day with a vibrant selection of poetry and stories from Leeds University Union’s Scribe Magazine, led by newly elected society President, Sam Reeves. A thriving cohort from the mag’s published writers took a fancy to our 70s mustard, floral-patterned rug, and put up camp their for the rest of the day.
Following on came storyteller Matthew Bellwood, a champion weaver of tales, the compelling delivery of his modern fables for everyday life revealing the wit and charm that have made him a popular performer at Barefoot in the Park since our inaugural Festival in 2007. Our personal favourite of his stories, which touched on the complexities of living in a multicultural society as a young, gay male, was the boy-scout inspired ‘Be Prepared’.
Next up was newcomer to the fest, was Andrew McMillan, a poet who moonlights as a student at Lancaster University. He recently visited Leeds in a literary capacity when he joined the panel on a debate about poetry staged by Leeds Salon. This Leeds platform for him was a rather different one, and he read from his debut pamphlet ’Every Salt Advance’, an assortment of deceptively simple poems touching upon the everyday, the pains of growing up, or of falling in love, in a refreshingly honest approach.
A nippy break for the next band provided the Barefoot crowd with a perfect opportunity to slip over to the Bowls Pavilion to grab a warming brew, and more tasty cakey morsels. On their return, Sixties-inspired four-piece band The Lovebirds had the 70-strong crowd on their feet in an instant, despite their relatively recent formation, with catchy tunes like “National Trust”, a witty contemplation of the nation’s countryside behemoth disguised with toe-tapping beats and lovely harmonies. In slick black ties and white shirts, they were a stylish bunch, and charming too, with one festival-goer commenting to me that they loved lead singer Phil Walbank’s ”chat”.
When the stage was emptied of drum kits and guitar leads, Carole Bromley entered the fray, expressing her pleasure to be at the festival in front of such a fantastic crowd. Carole commenced her set of wry, warming poetry, lapped up by the Barefoot crowd lounging contentedly on scattered cushions and rugs.
In a captivating move away from the last musical act’s upbeat rock’n'roll, came insightful poet Adam Strickson’s set with musician Avtar Singh Lota, who played traditional Indian instruments tabla and dilruba, in mesmerising collaboration. Though they have performed together for almost ten years, this was their first time in Leeds, so it was exciting to host them in the city they have lived in (Avtar lives in Leeds, Adam in Huddersfield).
After setting up two deckchairs in the performance space and settling into one of them with a cap pulled down over his eyes, Henry Raby (from LUU’s Theatre Group) acted Harold Pinter’s Monologue for the Barefoot crowd. Loping about the Barefoot stage space, addressing the empty deckchair by turns with vehement passion, and joking good humour, his ten minute performance, though brief, will not be forgotten, for its strong character-work and intriguing tale.
Combining two passions that elicit strong followings, ex-professional footballer Michael di Placido’s reading united football and poetry in a set that wasn’t just for boys, although, if the broad smiles across a number of male faces in the audiences were anything to go by during Mike’s set, that was definitely a plus factor.
With the arrival of the Open Mic session, it was the turn of the audience to come up with the lyrical goods – and boy, they didn’t disappoint. Ranging from short and sweet verses about the loss of a loved one, longer poetic musings on that ever-familiar, well-loved pair of jeans, or folk-tinged acoustic guitar songs, the variety of entries was entertaining. And top notch too!
Following hot on the heels of the open mic-ers, Raf Attar bounded to the stage to compere the annual Slam Battle (or as Raf called it, the Suh-laaaaaaaaaaaaaam Baaaaaattle). Raf is familiar with the Slam Poetry contest format, as a co-winner of last year’s Slam Battle. Issuing four audience members with a set of numbers for scoring, Raf got the crowd going with his usual concoction of exuberance and comic observation.
Up first was Henry Raby, in a different guise since last we saw him on stage, cruising along the front row of the cross-legged audience to deliver his high-scoring Slam poem on horse gods. Pidge was next in line for the limelight, and his mic-bound poem was no less powerful for it, word play and knowing insight tripping thick and fast off his tongue. Jake Holdsworth, seen earlier in the Scribe set, took to the mic with a poem freshly penned that very afternoon, while sat on the Barefoot rugs. Jake’s Slam poem had impressive meaning, a blend of impassioned writing against the consumerism along with recognition of the example that poets on the local Leeds’ scene have offered him (the octopi reference will always be a give-away). Capping off the first Slam round, came… well, me. Not content with organising the darn thing, I had to get a piece of the poetry action too, with a poetical satire on the vocally nasal, irritating American tourists Bill and Teri.
Keeping score throughout the first round of poems, Raf announced that the Final of the Slam would be between Henry and Pidge, with Pidge to launch in first. His poem ‘I glove you’ was a brilliant roaming through the possibilities of a mis-typed declaration of love, or indeed, friendship. Though Henry’s second poem was similarly brimming with quick-fire, frenetic energy and chocka with great lines, Pidge’s glove-ly lyrics won the day for the audience, and he was voted Barefoot Slam Champion 2010 with a sizzling score of 36 out of 40.
Barefoot’s final band Films, fresh from recording some new material, set up their keyboard and kit before launching into a brooding, quirky indie-folk-electro-hip hop mash up, which they’ve termed ’jump-folk’ (appropriately enough in haiku) on their myspace. Distinctive vocals from singer and guitarist Joe Newman, resounding harmonies, dappled chord sequences, and heartbeat pumps from Thom Green’s percussion soared out from under the Performance Marquee’s awnings into the soft light of early evening. They rounded their set with beautiful ’Mathilda’, a song that stayed with me long into the night as the Barefoot team cleared the site – but…
…but before I get ahead of myself, we’ve yet to cover two important events on the programme yet – namely, the poetry&prose competition, a new venture at Barefoot this year, to find some top creative writing on the page as well as in performance. In collaboration with The Literateur, all our chosen winners will be published on the online literary magazine, and they were announced to a staunch Barefoot crowd – but I won’t repeat to you who they were, you’ll have to wait for The Literateur to publish the winning entries now… (Mwahaha.)
A soft voice, with hints of an Irish background, brought the concluding performance of our poetry and arts festival: Michael McCarthy, Patrick Kavanagh-award winner, read from his collection ‘A Day at the Races’. Revealing to the crowd that he was a latecomer to writing poetry, only starting in his forties, Michael’s accomplished, gently humourous writing was a grounded, calming end to the day’s poetic extravagances.
Phew. What a day. What an afternoon. What a night. What a wonderful wee world we lived in for a while.
I hope that gives you a flavour of the treats we feasted upon yesterday, and leaves you hungry (for a balloon? No, sorry, that’s just Matthew Bellwood) for more…
See you next year, whether in Leeds, or Berlin (we’ve got plans for the Continent, you know!), or both,
Vicky xx
Festival Co-ordinator
