Have you heard of the Sublime? It's a philosophy term, mostly used in aesthetics to describe the elevated sense of being, the loss of all reason and constraint in the face of magnificence. Particularly it is the greatness with which nothing else can be compared and which is beyond all possibility of calculation, measurement or imitation.
That is how this weekend felt at Hop Farm in Kent. 2 days of music and people and camping. I ended up not camping with my flatmates, but with our neighbors who needed a loan to buy 2 new tents after their large tent broke, so instead of cramming 3 of us into a 2 person tent, our neighbors slept in one and I got the other for the weekend with one of the girls who was camping with them. It was fantastic.
I love festivals like that, there is nothing like them. Particularly, the magnitude of people there- 6 stages and 4 acres of camping and food and drinks and people.
I don't think I can convey the vastness of this festival but here are some pictures of the groups of campers and of the people around the stage.
There were so many people. I had the odd realization that I saw more strangers at Hop Farm than my grandparents probably ever saw in their entire lives.
The first day, Friday I saw Van Morrison, Blondie and the Afro Celt Soundsystem. Afro Celt were the best by far, Van Morrison was cool- not really a big deal for me. The first night I camped out with some kids I met at the show for the evening drinking beer and singing songs.
The second day was incredible, there were so many vendors and so many more people, and at noon I went to watch the music beginning with Pete Molinari. I saw through most of the bands who played next- eating some pie pasty's (meat pies) and surviving the insane English heat (which is very rare indeed). At 3:30 Pete Dougherty began playing, and I am by no means a fan of Mr. Dougherty but it was sort of the start of of the big names who I wanted to see. So when he finished and Seasick Steve took the stage I began slowly working through the crowd. I found myself with a backpacker from Portland (!!) and a group of Uni students from Oxford in the hipster fashion, some of who I met at the Glastonbury after party. They were great gents and we all pushed forward after Seasick steve to see Mumford & Sons- who if you haven't picked up on are quickly becoming my favourite bands. They are stellar, with Midlake and the new frightened rabbit album which is glorious.
Anyway so after Mumford & Sons Ray Davies played- as in from the Kinks, and who wrote Lola. He stole the show- he was incredible with so much energy and spirit and rock and roll 'tude. He told the roadies to fuck off when they asked him to stop playing early. He also made a couple of jabs at Bob Dylan, for living in a gated community and being sort of a prick.
Which is fairly true, Dylan doesn't interact with his audience, and I really had to address the fact that I was listening to Dylan 2010- not Dylan 1969, which was difficult but for a 71 (?) year old that man can play! He was funky fresh, and grooved which was nice to see, and it was great to listen to the crowd singing because he sand is older stuff (Just like a Woman, Forever Young and Like a Rolling Stone!!!) but he sang it so quickly as he does now, but everyone else sang the older versions. It was a bit like surround sound stereo.
My flatmates did not follow me, as they didn't want to see Mumford & Sons (their loss) and neither one thought it would be wise to wear sunscreen so they were very burned and unhappy around that time yesterday. And they didn't hydrate much, so they went to bed quite early. And I think maybe I preferred to be alone at the festival.
There was such a healing energy at the festival this weekend, something I needed. I felt, about myself finally. Moving around a lot takes its toll on fully integrating to a place, but I met really cool people by myself and had a wonderful time with them. That's the stage I always want to get to, but I am never patient with it. Furthermore, I am feeling much better about coming back to the states. There were a few days where I had been scouting for jobs that would keep my resume for a year, and I was very close to telling them to interview me and I'd take a gap year. But I realized at the festival that even being comfortable and even confident in the middle of groups of friends, I still need my friends, but this experience is on my own. I am excited to go back to Portland, but I can appreciate my time here, instead of wishing it could go on forever.
The guys I camped with were 26-27 and it made me realize that life doesn't end young. Not that they were old by any means, but I know there is time to come back here and live my life later, when I can. There is not such a rush to get everything done now. It's revealing and relieving.
The healing energy of the festival is something I don't think could ever be replicated. It was beautiful, magnificent and freeing. It was sublime to stand in the grass and sweat smelling crowd, smelling of grass dirt and sweat myself I'm sure, and loosing yourself to the music and flowing with the crowd and Dylan and Davies and defying any sort of reason or practicality your life has, because concerts are present, the music happens as you see it and feel it, you move it and you loose reason, the majesty of that freedom is sometimes small, or sometimes grand but it's magnificent, it is sublime.
The rest of the photos are of Ray Davies and Bob Dylan. I couldn't get any good ones of Mumford & Sons unfortunately.
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