With this being our festival special issue, Scott feels in his element. In this column he tries to explain why he feels festivals are so wonderful, with so much to offer.
T HINGS have certainly settled down since I wrote my first ramblings for these pages at this time last year. 12 months in the editorial chair at Reconnect has resulted in some big changes in my life. This being the annual festival and events themed special, it’s a heartfelt issue for me. Coming from a job where, for decades, I was immersed in this country’s musical carnivals across the seasons, I have a great affinity for those ‘lost weekends’. Now, I’ve found I’ve had to make changes. Less festivals in my life has meant less time living in the van, and losing touch with some of the friends I had on the festival circuit a bit. I never seem to be very good at keeping in touch anyway, and festivals were always handy for bumping into people at least once a year. On the upside I’ve also forged new friendships with some very wonderful people here in Reconnectland. I’ve been completely blown away by how positive everyone has been, it’s been inspiring getting a greater perspective of how much positive and helpful community spirit we have here in Devon. I won’t go into the emotional changes of suddenly becoming an owner of a business for the first time now. Suffice it to say it’s taken a year to get to grips with a more diverse subject matter than I’ve been used to – bands, food stalls, festival capacities, and the like. It’s been a wonderful diversification for me to learn more about this community I have a home in – its wellbeing, arts, produce, land matters, and human spirit. These things have all previously been part of what has made a good festival experience for me. So, it’s not too much of a world away just more permanent. For me, festivals are a kind of annual ritual for those who attend. Real grass roots events offer a chance to find some spiritual depth whether in song, dance, arts, or healing. They bring about an exuberance and a shared community experience. Good ones are a safe space, and give both you and the kids a chance to ‘rewild’. They offer the festivalgoer a new intensity and insight into being human as the crowds pass by regardless of the weather. They give you a feeling of being a small part of something bigger, of shared emotions, a feeling of being in the moment and in the place, and of permanence even though you’re at a recurring temporary event. You get to mix with all ages, and social ranks. To experience peace without authority where the audience are all equals. There’s no real discipline – you can get up when you like, eat when you like, see and do what you like, and you’ll still find yourself falling into the indefinable rhythm with your fellow festival goers. Festivals in reality are something ephemeral and especially transitory. As I write this I remember they create something else too, nostalgia – as those memories of weekends under canvas surface. Festivals force you to connect to nature, take more notice of the elements (the mud and rain usually), the turning of the season, and even the changes from day to night and night to day. They offer you a chance to escape the mundane, to think, to change your mind, perhaps your life, and to find enjoyment in the simple things, and shared experience. There’s a chance to embrace speech, music, dancing, comedy, decoration, workshops, artistry, poetry, performance, dressing-up, carnival, games, foods, flavours, and to try something new. To be inspired by new or alternative ideas, to find the chance to heal. To learn something new. They are also often a place of politics, where you can find the like minded, or become the like minded. Festivals are where I learnt about ethics and ecology. They infused me with a love for the environment, a desire to leave no trace, to re-use and recycle. To not leave litter for those who came after me to sit in. To care about others and how they’re feeling. To help those distressed to feel cosy. Festivals are testament to community focus and shared ideals. More deeply they are a market economy, a model of community and a shared vision of how we can all get along and find common ground. There have been some downsides – a speaker blowing in front of me resulted in permanent tinnitus, and my body has been slightly frayed by rollies and scrumpy cider. I may have moved on from a permanent life at festivals. But Reconnect also celebrates that community, and I hope you get the chance to let go and celebrate the wonder of life somewhere in a field this summer. southwesterlies… Scott