Charismatic conservative evangelical Tony Cummings reviews the 39th GREENBELT arts festival
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1.15pm
As I step into the Performance Café singer/songwriter
Gavin Osborn is apologising for his bad language brought on
(presumably) by frustration with some technical glitch. Not a good
sign. He then breaks into his next song as I find a chair and
gradually become conscious of Mr Osborn's performance. His voice is
pretty good, his guitar playing very limited and his wordy songs seem
laced with anger and "humour". One of his offerings goes, "In these
circumstances I'd rather eat my own cock'n'ball." Other songs tell us
that McDonalds burgers make him sick or tell of going to a party where
he's the only one in fancy dress clown outfit. But long before the end
of his set I lose interest in Gavin's badly-scanned rants and
reminiscences.
2.14pm
It's hard to concentrate. I sit at a table where two
young ladies chatter over their paninis and a thin, middle aged man
reads a glossy gay magazine. He is joined by two young men wearing
purple Christian & Proud t-shirts and the three begin a noisy
conversation. I'm the only one on my table listening to Calamateur's
wonderful sinuous, high voice swooping and arching over the
Performance Café noise. Gradually as the Scottish singer/songwriter's
set progresses I manage to filter out some of the extraneous sounds.
Calamateur has a falsetto to kill for and his songs resonate with
other worldly beauty. To me he's clearly one of the most underrated
talents on the UK scene. But now my table mates' chatter has turned to
raucous laughter and now there's another distraction. The rain is
causing pools of water to come through the holes in the plastic
flooring to find the holes in my old trainers. I decide to leave
before I find out whether Calamateur is going to sing his wonderful
interpretation of Steve Taylor's "Jesus Is For Losers".
4.17pm
Talk of intermittent showers has gone, the rain now
sheeting down seems relentless. I'm astonished that the crowd gathered
at The Canopy stand there, soaked to the skin, listening to the
haunting ambient rock of Atlum Schema. I lean against a tree the bark
of which is covered in silver foil - this is an arts festival after
all - and try and ignore the rain trickling down my neck. The deftly
layered alt rock has the same haunting dissonance of The Choir.
Atlum's closer may have lines like "Night time circles, shelter from
the storm" but there is little shelter under this tarted-up tree.
Never mind. Art rock as good as this can always be enjoyed. Having
said that, as the song soars to its haunting climax even the lady next
to me, who's been wearing a lap top cover as a rain hat, seems
relieved that Mr Andy Mort's set is over. As his band acknowledges the
loud applause of the crowd we're both already scuttling for more
substantial shelter.
6.40pm
The rain is sheeting down. The pathway to my tent has
momentarily turned into a brown stream coming half way up my calves.
I've experienced festival mud baths before, but never a flash flood.
9.05pm
I'm finally dry and have stopped shivering. I'm not
leaving my tent and read large chunks of the Greenbelt programme.
Surely any event offering Abdul-Rehman Malik with "a personal
meditative search for the Islamic conception of paradise" can no
longer claim to be a Christian festival. Maybe next year, Greenbelt's
historic 40th, they'll come clean and leave off the "Christian" tag.
Multi-faith? Spiritual? I'll leave that to GB to decide.
SUNDAY, 26th August
1.00am
It's still very
wet outside and I'm still reading the programme. One of GB's talks is
by Dave Tomlinson advising Greenbelters in "how to think with the soul
instead of following rules." Sounds good but from my viewpoint and
personal experience that soul needs to be indwelt with the Holy
Spirit. Otherwise we escape the angry, judgmental legalism of old
times (such as the Pharisees) and modern times (such as Moral Majority
zealots) only to find ourselves in the quagmire of
believe-anything-you-like relativism and ironically (considering Dave
Tomlinson's escape from charismania) the dysfunctional behaviour which
attributes all kinds of whims, suspicions and bad behaviour as
emanating from God.
1.25pm
In the Press Office I'm interrupted in my journalistic
labours to be introduced to Tim Winter, who was there to be
interviewed by the BBC about him designing Britain's first
eco-friendly mosque. When I'm given this news, all I can think of by
way of response is "Oh."
1.42pm
"Are you boys ready to rock?" "Are you girls ready to
rock?" bawls Stephen Fischbacher. Clearly many boys, girls, mums and
dads are and the punchy, good ol' rock of Fischy Music and with the
sun out and shining, one's happy to forget the dangerously slippery
ground that encircles the Mainstage area. The Scottish kids
communicators have songs full of fun and full of Jesus. They must get
exhausted performing if the white-topped girl dancing like a whirling
dervish is anything to go by. Their set is over in a flash and as if
on cue the rain clouds are back.
4.05pm
I LOVE this song! John Ball is teaching us the Mozambique
worship song "Nzomuranza" and though the words "Nzamuranza Angakona
wakufanana naye/Angakona wakufanana Jesu/Angokana wakufanana naye" may
at first seem unlikely to circulate UK churches, when sung to the
infectious swaying melody coupled with a translation ("We worship
Christ!/There is no one who will ever be like him"), it's clearly a
worship gem. John isn't the best of singers but he has an excellent
nine men and women aggregation with him, the Wild Goose Collective
from Iona who, together with a conga player, stand in the concreted
area at the back of the racecourse's Grandstand - a venue abstractly
called Jerusalem - and teach the seated throng new songs. A Big Sing
also teaches us songs from Nigeria, India, South Africa and another
one I am particularly keen on, "Dolorosa", from Mexico.
4.30pm
In the Greenbelt village I scan the Charity Store
selection of books and albums. The latter are a motley selection of
middle-of-the-road and teeny-bop items which even if they hadn't got
sleeves damaged in the rain don't warrant the £1 each selling price.
Not a Christian artist to be seen - save for a worse-for-wear Rick
Wakeman.
6.40pm
I catch a Mainstage song from those acoustic pop
survivors The Proclaimers. I'd interviewed the Scottish brothers when
they played Greenbelt in 1994. That year I'd been commissioned by NME
to write a report on Greenbelt. As it turned out, NME never published
my Greenbelt piece because Alan Lewis, the editor who'd commissioned
it, was on holiday when my copy arrived and his assistant editor left
in charge HATED anything to do with Christians. But I still remember
that interview with the Reid brothers when they told me they weren't
believers but were interested in the origins of the Labour Party
formed by Christians appalled by society's treatment of the poor and
oppressed. I had intended to stay for the whole Proclaimers' set but
with nowhere to sit and my trainers letting in copious amounts of
water I leave after one song and head back to the Press Office.
6.51pm
I'm sitting on the steps of the Grandstand talking to my
friends Ruth and Paul. A charming girl called Cat talks to us about
the need to put the needs of the poor back on the political agenda.
All three of us gladly sign the petition she hands us.
7.31pm
In the G-Music tent I see Martyn Joseph. In a voice loud
enough for him to hear I announce "here comes The Liberal Backslider".
Martyn makes a funnier remark, one about the treacherous skidpatch of
G-Music's floor which threatens to dispatch all of us onto our backs.
We both laugh. I'm in G-Music to catch Dennison Witmer. The volunteers
in the Press Office have been trying all day to set up an interview
for me with the singer/songwriter all day but they keep just missing
him. So the news that Ruth brings that Dennison is doing a mini-set
in the G-Music Tent gets me hurrying (well, as fast as anyone can
hurry across patches of glutinous mud in wet trainers) to catch the
last bit of his set.
7.40pm
As it turns out, Dennison Witmer'S G-Music performance is
barely audible above The Proclaimers booming from Mainstage close by.
But afterwards this most gifted of songsmiths graciously agrees to
talk to me. In a portacabin lent by the G-Music manager, Dennison,
though he's clearly dog-tired, talks lucidly about the songwriting
process and an album he's currently working on with Sufjan Stevens.
I'm sitting here reflecting after reading Tony's article. Were we at the same festival? I know we were because I was at the same Bruce Cockburn Press Conference as he was and heard be question Cockburn in a rather rude manner.
Greenbelt is a Christian festival, but it is no longer exclusively - or perhaps even in any way a Conservative Evangelical Christian Festival. It seems to me that Conservative Evangelicals think they have a monopoly on Christian Faith (I am not slinging mud here. Conservative Evangelical is part of Tony's own description of himself) They are the only ones allowed to interpret scripture and tell everyone else what it means. They are the only ones whose theology is reflected in the Bible. They are the only ones whose theology OF the Biblke is valid. They are the only ones who get to dictate what is and isn't Christian.
Greenbelt left this kind of attitude long ago. It recognises that there are other expressions of Christian faith which are just as valid expressions as Conservative Evangelicalism. There are other forms of music as beautiful and as uplifting as CCM - even music made by people without Christian faith. Conservative Evangelicals are of course still welcome at Greenbelt, but they no longer run things - thank goodness. Greenbelt represents a much broader and more humane agenda than that. If Tony can't cope with that, then perhaps he ought, as one commenter has suggested, stop going for the sake of his own blood pressure. As for me, I can quite happily declare that I am a Christian who is most definitely not a conservative evangelical and someone who has always found greenbelt a vital source of spiritual refreshment, uplift and support.