The mushrooms still dance

Later on, a while after the sun had set and before our feet got loose on the floor, we had a last dinner with everyone. Many people had came from far off; next day was going to be of travelling for most of them, thus making everyone wonder what time or by which way everyone was gonna go to. Despite the board with requests and offers for lifts, most of the people at the festival were friends already; ones that you don't see everyday. This makes the following night become way more emotional that the rest of them. It is like this sort of magic and melancholia around the act of dancing until the end of night. 

Many smiles and laughs, but already a feeling of close separation. Everyone was giving all to make this festival last, and be memorable. Like the food still was! It's something that we can never expect. It gets always better and better. It is almost unbelievable.

With warm, cosy and happy bellies, absorbing the magic food, we waited for the music to begin and set pace to the night. With Portuguese Traditional Music, Morison, Catalonian, French, Breton, and Scandi Folk (sorry if I missed out any), we danced up to our hearts content. People were wild, intense and beautiful. It made me see why I went there and why I still carry on going to folk festivals! 

The night went on and one, and we danced and danced. After the arrangements had finished, we gave room for jam sessions and until around five in the morning we danced, and danced, and smile, and gazed, and saw wonderful things happening; not only music, not only dance, but love. There was plenty to give and share.

Because there is no skint without sharing.

And for now, we stay here.

The mushrooms are back again!

After lunch, once again in a bit of a rush, I arrived to the coach station to set foot on folk music... again! It had been a while since I last danced and being back again to the folky circuit feels tremendously well, like a warmth cosy feeling over myself. Funny enough, was the fact that I found a friend, on the same coach, heading to Skint as well ^^

Her name is Cassandre, with whom I experienced the first french folk gig in London, at SOAS. In between catching up with each other, reading and sleeping the journey was, despite exhausting, very light to carry with.

Once we left, an escort was waiting for us! Nahhh, just kidding. We happened to arrive at the same time as other people and Ella drove us to the centre of the return of the mushrooms to Skint! A whole 2 days and a little more hours of music, dancing and good fun of french, english and scandinavian folk!

Next morning, still half awake, I open the curtain that separate the main hall to the stage, now served for some of the people to sleep in - other were in other divisions of the Hall and a few more moved instead to a Village, just to see the end of a Ioga session, while some other were still happily devouring the amazing breakfast, courtesy of the best festival cookers: the Vaughan's!

Oh, how can one describe their food? Imagine the best dish you've ever ate at a festival and multiply it by one hundred... and you'll get way behind what their food tastes like.

I can for sure and a lot of people will stand by me when I say that Skint without them wouldn't be the same thing :)

With the help of a few volunteers, all sorts of aspects of the festival were handled with no major issues: from making sure all the rooms are ready to hold the sessions and breaks to making the food ready to the hands of the chefs, everything is done with the most joy and love, making it an essencial ingredient of this gathering.

Clothes here, mattresses there, bags and instruments over there, every corner had some element of presence, memory and suspense. And the certainty of this are the sounds that dance throughout the building. Either it be music, or just conversation, the whole Hall is lively and merry, for everyone's reason to be there is the communion, and Folk! 

A little before lunch time, I set out with Amy to go for a walk and see what Ashover had to show us. We carried along the football field, jumped over the fallen wall and went down the road that led to the village's church. There, we found a very friendly fella who told us, right after Amy opened the door of the church "I'm sorry, but there's a weeding being held there now" to which we stepped back, thanked them and asked for a way to get over the hill. "Turn right after the church, follow the path over the tiny bridge and you'll face a upward muddy road that shall take you over the top of the hill. If you carry on that path, you can manage to get down again and be on the nearest village from here."

Following his instructions, we saw the road becoming more and more forestry, muddier and more like what I was expecting to see. The wind was whispering the coming of the winter but the sun still is strong enough for us to feel it embracing us.

After a while discovering around, we felt like going back and have a proper lunch; our bellies were shouting the same. It is wonderful to have moments like these, when the simple act of walking outside your frontyard proppel you to unknown lands, might they be as close as the hill you see from the windows of your house. The distance and toughness of the achievement do not have a thing to do here. What matters the most is how joyfulness of what you do. And if you enjoy what you do, the day seems to go right on the spot, like this whole festival felt to me.

And for now, we stay here.

Oh London,

Where have you been all this time? Gods from the Olympia came down to watch what you had to display. Their athletes, their fans, their opposites. Such exuberant, lively city that seems to have room for everyone willing to adapt to the impositions this city makes to the ones that endure here. But where where you?

You have a bit of everything here. A little more than 7 million people living in the same city... I think it is normal to feel the rush and pressure of such amount of wonders and wishful thoughts.

Things can be rough, but also cheerful; You to decide, no matter where.

For now, I'll stay here. A few travels are waiting for me and I for them.

But for now, I stay here.

The Graphic

June 16, 2012

This date marked a very unique event at Kilburn High Road: what was gonna be remembered as the beginning of what can be a path as a concert/event's photographer. Let me further envolve you.

There I was, at home, after the shoot of an incredible film and a proper rest, looking at my room and my stuff and starting to organize everything for my forthcoming trip back to Porto, seing my family again, being in Porto, feeling the warmth and heat everyone around there, see the SEA and smell the saltiness in the air! All of this was going on my mind when I get a message from Laurent, inviting me to go to one of his gig's, happening at the 'The Good Ship' and photograph it' Even though he wouldn't be able to pay me for the job, we would let me in free of charge and pay a few pints.

I was about to leave London for a bunch of months. Had my backpack to be set up and the room cleaned and going out to photograph for a bunch of ours wouldn't stop me from not making what I had to do. Also, that was a part of London I hadn't been to so it was also an opportunity to see a bit more of the millons of corners of London.

And so I said yes.

Got a bit later than arrange because of the traffic in London, but also because I misunderstood the venue for another gig he was gonna throw at Camden Town. However, there was not much of a issue about that as the arranged meeting time was set for about two hours before the actual gig (for a few group shots).

As I finally arrived, and relaxed for a bit, the work started. Even though I had no predetermined idea of what kind of frames I wanted to get, it wasn't very hard to see that bricks would be a constant on the photographs I was gonna make. Quite easy to manage, a few shots were enough to make them happy. And if the client is happy, so am I!

At 9.30p.m. their gig started. Although I never had listened to their music, it wasn't to hard to know what kind of band or what gender of music they were gonna play. What I was surprised though, was the way they captivated the audience, when compared with the other bands playing there. And that, adding the photographer on stage, almost make the band feel superior (not necessarily better) to the other ones, in the sense that they are conscious about their position, as a band and know what their goals are; that there is someone interested in them rather than looking for someone to look after them.

Anyway, the pub was a bit odd, in terms of space, although I might say it is a good spot to throw some gigs and the photographs pleased the band, to the point when I was told that with the quality of the photos I was taking, it would be really easy to earn quite a lot of money out of it, which was a surprise for me, because of the lack of notion about the practiced prices.

A nice energetic venue and good time spent listening to some emerging music which we might have the chance of be listening on the radios, soon!

Wish you the best of luck!!



UPDATE: If any of you got interested on the band, please visit them on their facebook page The Graphic