The Ned Wood Archive

In the land of summer sun
we have just begun

Kula Shaker, 1996

Joe

They’re at the Circus Field: Tom, Joe, George, Dunc, Alex, Max. The whole crew. Well, most of them. George and Jack and the clubbers went to the Common.

Joe’s mostly there. Maybe not even 50% there. Half of his brain is dreaming. Thinking about the Park. Imagining bumping into the owner of the face. Rehearsing conversations. Inventing futures. Drifting in and out of presence.

They are lined up behind a simple net fence that’s been put out halfway across the grass in front of the Glastonbury Free Press. The crowd stretches along the track to the right in front of the stalls and back up through the arch into the Theatre Field. Opposite them is the trapeze that’s usually there all festival long. In front is a small stage. Smaller than that stage over on the far left of the field where they have various jugglers and acrobats during the day.

Joe watches the stage, then looks left and right. His brain has suggested to him that she could walk past at any moment. What are the chances? At least if she did, he’d be able to say something. But what? I am not an acrobat, I cannot perform these tricks for you. Nope. He’ll have to think of something original.

Tom reckons this is what they’ll do from now on. Each year. They’ll have a number of smaller opening ceremonies spread over the site, all on at the same time. That way people will just go to the nearest one and not crowd out the Stone Circle or the Pyramid. They’ll be traditional. There’ll be fire dancers and other circus acts, as there usually are. That turns out to be a correct, if maybe obvious, prediction. For this year, at least. The trapeze artists get up and do their thing. Dunc points out that it don’t mean a thing, if it ain’t got that swing. Everyone ignores him. The fire dancers strut across the stage throwing their flaming hoops and fire devil sticks. Some acrobats appear on stage and jump through the hoops and over the sticks and generally get as close to getting fried as possible without actually burning.

“Which of these will she be at?” Joe asks himself. He assumes the vast majority of people on site will have gone to one or other of the opening ceremonies. But is she a traditionalist? Or a seasoned attendee? Or could she have some expert mate who tells her the best place to go. Who knows.

It’s what they expected, but it’s worth watching. They’re close enough to see everything and admire the skills. And it doesn’t last too long. After about 15 minutes, presumably at some point coordinated with the other opening ceremonies around the festival, the performers slow down gracefully and finish what they’ve been doing. Just as they are leaving the stage, the first firework hits the sky, followed by volley after volley in quick succession from behind the stage, where the Cabaret field is; from way back behind the stage, probably from the Stone Circle and the Park; from over to the left where Joe thinks the crew camp; and from over to the right where the Pyramid Stage and the Other stage are. Maybe you’d get a better view of the fireworks from the Pyramid Field. But as they agree on the way back to the tent, you got a better view of the circus stuff where they were. Either way, you’d have a choice: see the circus stuff up close or watch the fireworks from a distance.

And, either way, the festival has started.

Bring it on.