Up-and-coming new folk festival defies bad weather to put on exuberant, fun-filled alternative to Jubilee weekend
“Women make an arch – men do the run, men do the run!” yells the gingham bustle-clad caller from raucous East London ‘hoedown collective’, Cut a Shine. Except we’re not in East London, we’re in West Wales, and the hundred strong audience are tearing through the dances in an actual straw strewn barnyard, cheerfully stamping up mud and shouting down the heavens.
This is the second year for Fire in the Mountain, or Tan Yn Y Mynydd, an intimate yet lively folk festival held on a breathtakingly picturesque small-holding near Aberystwyth. The festival’s grown a bit from the first year, but not by much. “The barn’s got a roof on it now,” one 2011 veteran nods over his cider, “which is nice.”
In all, the site holds about a thousand (not counting geese, pigs and dogs) meaning that new faces quickly become familiar over the festival’s four days and friendships are quick to blossom. It had been expected that, as well as those camping for the duration, the event would draw day-ticketers from around Wales but unfortunately heavy rains kept many of the hoped-for locals away.
Still, this did have the effect of creating a spirit of high camaraderie amongst those on site – sort of a world outside the world. This was heightened by the complete absence of commercial intrusion into the festival. Food was all prepared on site, with locally sourced sausage and egg butties luring people out of their tents in the morning and dinner coming from either a large communal kitchen or a wood fired cobb oven serving steaming hot calzone. Regional ales and ciders were decently priced and delicious if somewhat dangerous – the 7.5% ‘sui-cider’ had a few people enjoying rather more sublime afternoons than they’d intended.
Musically, a fantastic line up brought together some of the best in the underground / contemporary folk scene from the UK and beyond including Alasdair Roberts, Beth Hartness and Stephanie Coleman, (the literally named) Stomping Dave, Nuala Honan and Ríoghnach Connolly (amongst many other fine acts). The line-ups were organised loosely around a Celtic Day, an Americana Day and a Welsh Culture Day – and with the festival only having one main stage and a second, smaller space five minutes’ walk from each other, it was impossible to miss anyone you wanted to see.
Dalston-based Kidnap Alice provided a particular highlight on the Sunday night with an energetic mix of exquisitely played bluegrass, Appalachian and ‘vintage R’n’B’ all given a shiny gloss by lead singer Alice Ballantine’s silky vocals. Perhaps buoyed by having just finished a recent tour and firmly amongst friends (the group were formed from the Cut a Shine collective behind the festival), the group had the crowd wheeling and heehawing in their rain macs and hot pants.
Because, even though this was a friendly, good-natured folk festival, the crowd was far from a bunch of corduroy-clad pipe smokers arguing over whether the ale deserved CAMRA accreditation. Though a mixed and welcoming gathering, the crowd was largely young and there were as many denim cut-offs, sparkly vests and feathered hats as there were Argyle sweaters (although there were a few of these to go along with the wellies and waterproofs Wales was demanding that weekend).
Other highlights plucked unfairly from the consistently excellent main stage line-up included the Liverpudlian Long Finger Bandits, an impressively face-painted ‘raggle taggle cacophony of suffragettes’ playing a mix of ‘gypsy, folk, rock, punk, bossa nova and spit’. Right-o.
The simply awesome Ross and Jarlath Big Band braved a wet and windy evening to make some very big noise indeed. Combining Scottish and Irish pipes with an all-Celtic big band line-up and traditional dancers, this folk power group not only had the crowd dancing as if there were no rain, but even managed to tempt people outside from the warmth and shelter of the packed bar.
And then, what is there to say about the staggeringly anarchic Kazimier Krunk Band? Eschewing the stage in favour of performing amongst a tightly packed throng of revellers, this Liverpool-based ‘self-amplified orchestra of the people’ employed trumpet, accordion, rambunctious percussion and a ‘souked up barrel organ’ to drive the crowd into an almost techno frenzy with their weird, contorted carnival electronica.
The festival’s second stage, run by promoters Owlsworld, provided a (usually) more relaxed space for acoustic numbers, jams and spoken word – unless high spirits took over and then it was the scene for further, if slightly cosier, riotousness. Here, audiences were treated to a quality selection of performers including the likes of King Twit, Jimmy Lightfoot and the Disciples, the Longnotes and the Barker Band. Particular favourites included the Ramshackle Union Band’s rendition of the last song of a condemned fiddlist (that and the barmaid who’d grace you with an unforgettably eloquent insult if you rang a special bell).
Apart from the music, Fire in the Mountain had plenty going on during the days. In a beautiful yurt, sporting a very welcome woodburner, there were daily music workshops teaching everything from Klezmer to accordion, banjo and singing. In a nearby wooded dell, punters could try and work off their hangovers and tent fug with classes in slack-rope walking and hula dancing before taking in a sound installation woven into the trees themselves. An ingenious bicycle pumped water system fed not only a sauna but also a set of three hot showers – and if you wanted a further break from festival earthiness, fresh cream teas and Welsh cakes were being served in a comfortable fig-filled greenhouse. Most pleasantly, with such a high proportion of musicians in the festival goers, the site was also home to any number of spontaneous jams and outbreaks of shanties making even a simple wander around the campsite a pleasure.
All in all, this was a lively yet extremely good natured affair with none of the obnoxious complications of many larger festivals. Families were well represented and catered for with the choice to camp in a family field if they wanted and no one had to worry about tents being vandalised or having their stuff nicked.
Its small size may be a double edged sword however. Though it made for a refreshingly collective occasion, one wonders whether the organisers broke even, especially given the bad weather. Still, the combination of great atmosphere, fantastic music and stunningly beautiful surroundings was a real winner – here’s hoping the plucky, fun-loving festival becomes a regular fixture in the new folk calendar.
Written and Reviewed by Tom Donnelly and Elspeth Clark
Published on 12 June 2012 by Tom D
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