Recently I made my first trip to the Kelburn Garden Party, a music and arts festival held in the grounds of a rather extraordinary castle on the West Coast of Scotland; one which is famous for its unusual adonisation with colourful graffiti.
The Garden Party has been going since 2009, but despite having been to more than my fair share of festivals over the years, this is one that I somehow had never quite got around to visiting before. To be honest, I am quite glad that things worked out the way they have, as I don’t think I would have properly ‘got’ Kelburn had I gone earlier. Sometimes, the stars just have to align – and it seems like they did this weekend.
I went along with a small group of friends, all of whom had been before and so could show me the ropes. We pitched our tents up next to Liz’s wonderful campervan, and made the most out of the excuse to just spend the weekend hanging out. There weren’t any particular bands playing that we knew all that well beforehand, so the trip was really more about just experiencing Kelburn together. In what feels like an increasingly atomised existence, moments of extended communal connection are rare, and some of my favourite memories from the weekend were those that we shared as something of a make-shift community: The cheese board. The chilli. The outfit checks. The pooling of vital resources such as vitamins, sweeties, and blankets for those idiots that somehow managed to bring a plethora of unnecessary paraphernalia, but forget to pack their sleeping bag. Take a guess who that was.
The days were lazy, filled with hammocks, ciders, and chance encounters, soundtracked by the sonorous tones of nearby brass bands. There were duck races, jugglers, giant crabs, sparkling heads, extra-long horns, and psychedelic sound baths.
One of the most unique, definining characteristics of the Garden Party is that of the Neverending Glen. Unlike the vast majority of other festivals, which are set in bland fields, Kelburn makes use of the Estate’s natural features, with art, music, and other treasures nestled throughout a myriad of nooks, cracks, and crannies in the landscape. These are left up to you to explore and stumble upon… with limited (and often deliberately obtuse) signage to provide some sort of guidance. If you don’t look closely, you’ll definitely miss out, but you’ll probably still never see everything even if you do.
Even the more obvious installations are obscured in some fashion, such as this giant Earth… Hidden down a narrow pathway which can easily be overlooked, it only comes into view when you reach a clearing at the crest of a hill. When we came across it on the first night, it was entirely unexpected, and genuinely awe inspiring.
The Earth lies suspended above the infamous ‘Waterfall Pool’, where revellers are encouraged to wash off the sins of the previous evening. The fact that the organisers are able to allow such unfettered access to the environment like this, in a way which could so-easily be spoiled, speaks volumes for the attitude and approach of the Kelburn community.
At some point the lens filter got a bit smudgey, giving this kind of soft ethereal glow to the pictures, which – given the circumstances – was rather appropriate, and quite neatly matches how I remember it all in my mind.
At the top of the Neverending Glen lies The Boat: a multi-coloured vessel perched aloft the hill which pumps out tunes throughout the day, and provides a beautiful view across the Firth of Clyde; an oasis to just sit and soak everything up. This proved to be especially good for the soul when we were unexpectedly blessed with sunshine on the final day.
There are two distinct sides to the Garden Party. During the day the atmosphere is incredibly laid back, and very family friendly, but as the sun goes down, that which is whimsical turns into something a bit more… intense. Not all magic is innocent after all, and dusk is where the real fairies, freaks, and possibly even monsters come out. That doesn’t mean that it ever feels dangerous necessarily… and in fact, people are overwhelmingly open-minded and good natured. The air is just suffuse with possibilities, as if anything could happen. The familiar becomes distorted and it can seem like you’ve fallen into something of a mythical place. Over the past few years I have come to find that kind of uncertainty exciting, but if the thought of that fills you with trepidation, then perhaps this isn’t the place for you.
As a photographer it can be hard to shake the feeling that I need to document everything at an event like this, and in some ways I wish I had been more pro-active in capturing more of the festival, but… as one of my compatriots remarked, sometimes it’s better to be the monster, rather than just act as witness. I wasn’t there to work after all, and decided to let the spirit of Kelburn take over. In keeping with that, I left the camera behind at nightfall, preserving some of the mystique of the witching hours – and I’m glad I did.
Kelburn is undeniably special, but the real magic lies in the space that has been created for people to feel genuinely comfortable both just existing and also expressing themselves openly, honestly, and with consideration for those around them. However… that requires a delicate balance – one which shouldn’t be taken for granted. As great as most of the crowd was, there was also a significant number of wee bams in attendance. Whilst they seemed to largely be kept in check by the overall philosophy and attitude of the other festival goers, it wouldn’t take much for the scales to tip in an unfortunate direction. This is something that could perhaps be partially addressed by the selection of main stage acts in future, as when you choose particular artists in your programming, it informs the ultimate demographic. It would be a shame to see Kelburn lose some of what makes it so wonderful.
I need a bit of time to let the dust settle, as is often the case with experiences that touch the soul – but I definitely enjoyed my journey to the fairytale world of Kelburn. Perhaps this will need to become something of an annual pilgrimage. My only concern is that it will be difficult to live up to the first time. I guess only time will tell.
For those that are interested, all of the pictures in this entry were shot with a Vivitar 35ES. The film is a combination of Kodak Ultramax 400, and DubbleFilm ‘Sunstroke’ – which appears to be a modified version of Kodak Gold 200. The negatives were processed and scanned in super-quick fashion by Gulabi, then further tweaked by me in post.
p.s. If you are interested, I put together a short Super 8 film, shot with a Canon 514XL and Kodak 50D… Find it below.
