f38 Eight Day Week
The folk world heads to South Devon every August for Sidmouth Folk Week. Judith Burrows took her camera up the hill and down again, while Steve Hunt took notes.
I
t’s late Saturday night in the bar of the Bedford Hotel. Not actually-Sun- day-morning late, but late enough for proceedings to start resembling the preliminary sketches of an unfin-
ished Hieronymus Bosch masterpiece. I, a practiced teetotaller of some five sum- mers, am gliding effortlessly yet cautious- ly through the multitude, when my shoul- der is suddenly seized in the grip of an unknown hand. I turn to face my assailant, who addresses me thus: “DO YOU KNOW WHERE MADDY PRIOR IS?” It is Nic Jones. I do. All is well.
Encounters such as this are common- place here, for this is Sidmouth Folk Week – a functioning embodiment of that old punk rock “we’re the same as the audi- ence” philosophy, ever since the February 1955 issue of English Dance & Song declared it “an ideal place for a seaside holiday with dancing”. A couple of hours later, I have the good fortune to meet fRoots colleague Tim Chipping, a man whose mind (even at this intoxicatingly refreshed hour) remains sharp as a Damas- cus steel rapier. The gist of what Tim said (much better than I could) is that Sid- mouth has thrived for so long because it offers such a huge and diverse range of events – meaning that everyone who attends can enjoy their own personal ver- sion of the perfect folk holiday.
Above: The Outside Capering Crew. Below: Flook
Certainly, each of the numerous venues has its coterie of devotees whose tribal behaviours provide interest for ama- teur sociologists. Whilst scarily young hordes gather at the Arts Centre to be inducted into arcane folk skills by the Shooting Roots workshops, on the night that I finally make it to one of the tradi- tional music concerts in The Woodlands Hotel, I’m one of the three youngest peo- ple in the room – the other two being my wife and son. We’re also the only ones wearing festival campsite wristbands, and I suddenly feel rather grubby in the venue’s (relative) opulence. The Rugby Club meanwhile provides a welcoming venue for the Steppin’ Time! social step dance sessions – a new event which imme- diately numbers among my favourites.
For many, a main Sidmouth attraction is the evening seated concert series in the Ham Marquee, which this year included Maddy Prior, Show Of Hands, a rare Flook re-union, Carthy Hardy Farrell Young, the (actually everywhere) Spooky Men’s Chorale and Capercaillie. Or there are the stand up (and dance) events for a younger demographic up at the out-of-town Bulver- ton Marquee with the likes of the Peatbog
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