Greenbelt 2009 - 'Standing in the Long Row' - Part 1

FRIDAY 29th AUGUST 

It's been almost two weeks since I returned from this year's Greenbelt festival (a Christian arts event) at the Cheltenham Racecourse from 28th August-1st September. Inspired by a quote of Brian Eno's, it was entitled 'Standing in the Long Now'. I got to go for free because I contributed a video to a couple of worship sessions put on by a group called Ambient Wonder. After having written up the experience, I felt that I wanted to share it with people. 'What better way to do that than through a blog?' I thought. I've never blogged before and, after these posts, may never blog again but I thought I'd give it a go. This site's been going 9 years - better late than never, I guess.

I got a lift to the festival with fellow Ambient Wonderers Tim and Dot who, rather than rough it in a tent with the rest of us, instead opted to hire out a posh holiday home called ‘Woodpecker’ (I know it's wierd that I took a picture of it) just outside Cheltenham Racecourse – Greenbelt’s home since 1999. It was here that the Lentons dropped me off (I felt like I was their son going to Scout camp), to make my way to Campsite 9 to join the rest of the Wonderers, who were already at the campsite with others from St. Catherine’s in Norwich, who had helpfully collected all our tents during the previous week and erected them for us. The familiar sites of The Centaur building and the Grandstand from my previous (and first) Greenbelt in 2007 gave me a good vibe. Ridiculously, it took me about half an hour, 3 phone calls to Heather, our fearless leader, and a fair bit of under-the-breath un-Christian language to get my bearings and find our campsite. Not a good start to the weekend. In the end, Heather had to come and stand outside a tent inhabited by some Franciscans to guide me to my tent, which looked pretty good after having been stored away since its last outing at GB07. Heather introduced me to Annie, who, when I called her out of the blue earlier in the week, had bravely agreed to give me a lift home after the festival.

After quickly sorting out my stuff, I relaxed with the festival programme to plan my weekend. It wasn’t long before I was off to my first session, ‘Feeling & Dealing with Rage’. En route, I walked by the Mainstage, where I happened to catch the Opening Ceremony, compered by Simon Thomas (a Christian, Norfolk man and former Blue Peter presenter), who introduced the festival and, along with its Chairwoman, Karen Napier, drummed up enthusiasm for the weekend ahead. I then made my way to The Kitchen, a large-ish tent with pictures of utensils hung up on the walls and tea towels dangling from the ropes. Lasting about an hour, it covered coping with conflict in a Christian way and left me feeling that I needed to straighten things out with certain people back home. It was interesting hearing about other’s issues and that they find conflict just as tough as I do. It was still a bit uncomfortable to hear about strangers' marital problems, though.

Next, I tried out a talk by Gavin Wakefield on St. Aiden and the relationship between Christianity and culture but got bored and left, hoping Gavin wouldn't notice me shuffling my way out. After getting some food, I happened upon a band I’d vaguely heard of called yFriday, whose music I recognised as enjoyable standard evangelical fare. They were good but I couldn't help but be distracted by the rather amateurish, repetitive visuals accompanying their set - I should know all about these, being an amateur filmmaker myself.

 At 9pm, I bounded into the rather functionally-named ‘Film’ venue to watch Darren Aronofsky’s 2006 film, ‘The Fountain’, which I had enthused about earlier to various disinterested people back at the campsite. I was a little peeved that the Film staff hadn’t bothered to provide more chairs, leaving most of us sat on the hard floor, having to strike various poses throughout the film to keep our blood flow going. The film itself more than made up for the numb bum it left me with afterwards. There was a short preamble by one staff member about the background to the film and why it had been chosen for GB09, featuring as it did a very ‘Long Now’, following the efforts of Tom (Hugh Jackman) to find a cure for his wife, Izzy’s (Rachel Weisz) cancer, from the year 1500 to 2500. It was two hours of beautifully weird, thought provoking and visually stunning goodness, marred only by the intrusion of has-been band Sixpence None The Richer, whose bland music wafted over from the Mainstage and adding an uneccessary soundtrack to some of the quieter, more emotional moments of the film. These usually featured Hugh Jackman crying his eyes out, though not due to the inappropriate music. I wept for him on that front.

I especially enjoyed ‘The Fountain’s’ religious imagery and themes, such as the quest for the biblical Tree of Life. The film has haunted me since the festival, not least due to a truly awe-inspiring scene near the end, where Tom reaches the end of his quest. The plot, music and Tom's bubble spaceship all reach their peak...creating what was, for me, one of the most transcendent moments of the whole weekend. It almost feels like heresy to write that about a weekend full of worship sessions and such, but it was a scene of such (ambient?) wonder, visually and thematically, that it really sent me out on a high. Very few films can do that for me. Not everyone loved it, though, such as the clearly very silly man who, as I stood rubbing some circulation back into my benumbed buttocks after the film, I heard complaining to his girlfriend about the film's supposed lack of acting talent, singling out  Jackman. The girlfriend quite rightly argued against this and I almost backed her up - HJ had done really well, despite having to contend with inappropiate '90's music - but thought better of it.

In retrospect, I could have just hired the movie on DVD at home and attended another appealing (and live), event at GB09, like ‘Pyro-theology’, a show by Ikon, a controversial Christian community; yet, the experience of watching a film at a festival which it shares themes with, on a big-ish screen with a bunch of strangers actually made all the difference. Film as worship? Maybe. After having all but turned my back on filmmaking since my degree, perhaps God still has stuff for me to do in that area? In the visual arts, at least.

Later, I sat drinking some tea in the Volunteers’ Area (where I wasn’t sure I was meant to be, given that I was a Contributor, yet no-one checked my purple wristband), I noticed a rather sad-looking man sit down near to read the Sun newspaper. Clearly, things must have been desperate for him to be reading that and I wondered if I should try and talk to him. I bet life as a GB volunteer must be hard if it leaves you reading The Sun, even if it means going to the festival for free. I gave him a smile as I caught his eye, which he returned, then shortly left. Well, I tried.

 
Whilst sat there, I’d also been considering helping out with the ‘campsite cleanup’ I'd seen advertised in the stewards’ room next door. I wasn’t sure what lead me to do this; perhaps the Holy Spirit, or guilt for being in the Volunteers Area when I wasn’t one (this being before I became aware of the Contributors tent – a far more interesting place with a better class of reading material; unfortunately closed at this point). Going for it, I sat down with load of site stewards, all in their hi-viz jackets, ready for a briefing. I began to feel a little out of place in my black and white hoodie and asked the steward next to me if the cleanup was just for stewards, which he said it wasn’t exclusively but it looked like they had enough helpers, so I could leave and ‘get some kip’.


I would have liked nothing better than to ‘get some kip’ but instead had to endure a night of icy terror, as the temperature dropped like a stone and I had neither a blanket nor a good woman to keep me warm. This was compounded by the racket made by nearby teenagers engaged in ‘first night hi-jinks’, as Wonderer Paul from had later put it. One old boy nearby, who I’m sure had the best interests of everyone over the age of 20 at heart, had the courage to leave his tent, braving the cold to tell the noisy blighters to "belt up, cos some people were trying to get to sleep!" This worked for about two minutes, after which the kids resumed their incessant talking, although it was really the cold that kept me awake. As well as this scary picture in the Film venue...