Davie Gardner

14 May, 2007

IN THE early hours of Tuesday 8 May, as the last 'scrit' of the last fiddle echoed through the rapidly emptying corridors of Islesburgh community centre, the 2007 Shetland Folk Festival came to a fitting, glorious, probably all but exhausted finale - officially at least.

Four days of personal excess, fantastic music and musicians from as far afield as the USA, Slovenia, Canada, Ireland and Fraserburgh; 'tour' buses and concert partys raking between Bigton and Skerries and all points in between; enough real ale supped to drown the most resilient of water buffaloes. Yes, once again the Shetland Folk Festival had delivered everything it said on the tin and much more besides.

But hark - is yon a disgruntled punter I hear murmuring in the distance? Well no, it's actually more than one, and it's sadly a bit louder than a murmur.

Heavens above! Who could possibly be taking issue with the granddaddy of all Shetland's festivals, after the kind of weekend you would struggle to replicate anywhere else in the world?

Could you be one of the many who had to join a seemingly endless and almost static queue, which stretched part of the way down King Harald Street, in order to gain entry into the festival club of an evening?

Or maybe you were one of the poor smokers who, having gone out for a much needed "breath of fresh air", found they had to again join the end of said queue to get back into the building?

Or were you one of the Ollaberry folk who allegedly could not get a ticket for their own hall?

Or even Irish vocal goddess Mary Black who, having been advised her concert was a complete sell out (several times over), found herself performing to a half empty hall - the remainder of the audience having high-tailed it to the club for a much-needed glass of 'Skullsplitter' in preference to hearing a legend perform on their very own door step?

Ah yes, all these and maybe a few more besides.

For sure the successes were many and the committee members' backs deservedly slapped till near red-raw, but during the weekend a few of the same committee also had to absorb a fair bit of an ear-bashing into the bargain.

So was the aural assault from some quarters as well deserved as all the accolades? I thought it best to find out first hand, so I hunted down festival chairperson Christine Fordyce, who was looking remarkably unscathed, not only in terms of having survived the rigours of the festival itself, but also no doubt having had to bear the brunt of much of the disgruntled punter ear-bashing into the bargain.

Although I thought I knew Christine better than that, it might not have been surprising to have been met with a plethora of excuses and a "well there will always be some problems won't there" defence. Very true whatever the size of event you promote - let alone a full-blown festival. But no, she was more than well aware of all the obvious problems (plus a few more besides) and clearly more than ready to meet them head on and take the responsibility with the rest of her committee for doing something about them.

Why the queues? Come on admit it young lady you sold too many memberships and there was not enough room for everyone.

"Well no, not really" said Christine. "Yes we probably sold more than usual, given the ever increasing popularity of the festival, but this is really the first time reasonably quick access to the club has been a real problem. Sure there have been queues in the past but they usually clear pretty quick, this year - well on Friday night at least - things proved to be a bit different."

Christine admitted that although they did sell around 2,000 memberships ( including a lot of them to children through family memberships), and the club can only hold 700 or so, this had not been the root of the problem. Nor was the fact that most musicians and 'workers' get an automatic 'straight-in' club membership.

She reminded me that the festival was a day less in duration this year and in a "well-intended attempt" to deliver the same number of concerts than the usual five day event did, and give the same value for money, they had elected to hold the extra/misplaced concerts in the club itself - something that the public themselves had asked to be reinstated.

Kill two birds with one stone so to speak, but also ruffle the feathers of a whole lot more into the bargain as it turned out. "An honest oversight," as Christine put it.

What this ultimately did of course was give immediate club access to another 160 or so concert-goers right at the start of the club night. Add to that the artists, supporting staff etc who have 'straight-in' passes (around 200 or so individuals who are accounted for by the stewards on their 'number clickers' before the doors even open) and you have an immediate commitment exceeding 50 per cent of the club's overall capacity, and …well a bit of ordinary-member gridlock outside the doors to be honest.

"How do we get in?" asked one club 'member' who had come all the way from Glasgow for the event, only to find herself nearly halfway down King Harald Street at midnight with her friends already inside the venue.

"Be very, very patient, move when everyone else does and hope it doesn't rain or that the bar shuts before you get there," came the very disgruntled reply from the non-moving queue member immediately in front of her.

"Surely you must have seen this coming," I asked Christine. "No, in all honesty we didn't," she said. "Well not to the extent it happened on Friday night at least, and hindsight is a wonderful thing. The rest of the weekend was not quite so bad. In fact on Sunday night there were no queues at all to speak of. It will be a major talking point at our next meeting I can assure you and no doubt there will be changes to take account of this."

An upper limit on festival memberships perhaps? "Possibly," said Christine. "But remember although the club was really busy on Saturday night, the queues were relatively short and Sunday was not a problem, so we don't want to over-react either and find we have space in the club and a lot of disappointed folk who couldn't get memberships from the outset. It's a difficult balancing act."

Christine also reckoned that the old 'daily membership' idea didn't work either and it was generally abused, with a significant percentage of folk buying them simply to gain access to the late night drinking in the club rather than the festival activities themselves. "I personally believe the concerts in the club caused the main part of the problem and we will be looking at this first," she said.

Of course it was the rush to avoid the queues on Saturday night that left Irish vocal goddess Mary Black watching hesitatingly from the Clickimin stage as her audience rapidly dwindled before her eyes, demonstrating not necessarily some members of the audience indifference to her mighty talent, but more so their preference for late night, alcohol-fuelled revelry. A regular 'Shetland problem' - unless you can tie the two together of course.

"Yes, it was a disappointing knock-on effect", said Christine. "You try for years to get her to the festival and then yon happens. It wis embarrassing for wis too I can tell you, but Mary seemed to understand it was nothing to do with her performance."

Let's hope so anyway. Leaving early was bad enough in itself, but to do so in the middle of her songs was even worse. Shame on those of you who chose such an ungracious exit.

Would shortening the concerts help, so everyone can get the benefit of the concert and still get to the club at a reasonable hour, and then maybe put on some of the visiting artists in the club too I asked?

"We don't think so," she said after some thought. "Remember there are those who buy a ticket and want the full concert value and experience only and we have to take account of them and their value for money too, so no we will have to try and find some way of resolving the club issue and then the concerts will hopefully take care of themselves."

And what of all the poor smokers (paid up members all) who were left huffing and puffing in more ways than one after nicking outside for what they thought would be a quick late night 'draa', only to find their immediate re-entry to the club barred and the dreaded phrase "get to the back of the queue" barked into their faces?

The very same faces of course that not five minutes before, had been happily propping up the bar with a pint of foaming "Grumbleweed Grog" grasped firmly in hand.

"Ah that was a stewarding misinterpretation of now defunct rules," Christine sheepishly answered. "We changed the rules after last year to take more account of smokers and someone forgot to update the Saturday night door stewards, that's all."

Much nicotine disturbing discontent all round, but it was all sorted quickly I was reliable informed and the rest of the weekend was clear for our local puffers to engage in the full lung-damaging gulps of nicotine they so desperately desired, without further restrictions being heaped upon them. Next year they will have their very own stamp so they can come and go as they please I am reliably informed.

And then there were the poor Ollaberry person or persons who could not even get a ticket for their own hall due to the fact that all wis toonies bought early memberships and thus got wir sticky paws on the tickets first?

"Well that's not entirely accurate," Christine countered. "It's true that members do get preference, and I suppose our biggest membership is from da toon due to easier club access, but there were tickets available after the first sales were accounted for in Ollaberry, so I suppose its still the old case of buy early to avoid disappointment."

Far from me to suggest such a thing of course, but I suppose they too could always buy a membership, which is relatively cheap and gives you first preference and generous ticket discounts too. So you see you too, dear rural dweller, could get your tickets at the first time of asking, save some money on the full value and maybe even get to the club too if the chance arose. Ah but that of course would 'up' the membership still further and add more to the queues. "Swings and roundabouts" as Christine puts it. Oh well, I suppose when one door opens another cracks you firmly in the gob, so to speak.

Ah well, what the hell. Every event whatever its size will carry its own share of problems, maybe even more so than Shetland. We could speak around these forever, and perhaps a hundred more besides, and still not solve them all effectively. In Shetland we're great at criticising but not so great at offering effective and constructive solutions. For instance can anyone really offer up a totally foolproof and sustainable solution to the club/concert problem or suggest a suitable alternative to Islesburgh as its home, in the meantime at least. Thought not!!!

The festival, and the people who attend it, are different every year and as sure as hell if you think you have resolved one set of problems, along will come another and bite you in the backside when you least expect it to.

For now lets just celebrate the fact that, whatever its warts, we still have one of the best festivals in the northern hemisphere right here on our own smaa doorstep, run by a committed, totally voluntary committee that, whatever your musical preferences (and yes perhaps there were too many fiddles this year), work their collective butts off year out year in to bring us great entertainment, not to mention some of the most mind scrambling hangovers known to man, and long may they continue to do so.

And of course the Shetland Folk Festival could copyright the cries of "Where have you been till this time?" or "Banjo, I'll bloody banjo de" such has been their involvement in creating such vitriolic, wife-related retorts over the years.

Next year, all being well, we will have another round of great music and musicians; concerts from Unst to Fair Isle again; happy artists and equally happy punters; scorching weather; more gallons of real ale; fiddles with remote control silencers, instant hang-over cures, either no queues or at least fast moving ones and, of course, the happiest smokers in the land.

Long may Shetland's very own folk festival continue being a victim of its own success, cause that's ultimately the underlying problem here and one that so many other festivals would kill to have, that's for sure.

So from this ageing folk festival veteran, here's to the next sitar player from Salford booked to appear in Sandness and the next pint of mind blurring 'Finnegans Wake'....Cheers!!!!!

What are your thoughts on the last Shetland Folk Festival? Write to us at comment@shetland-news.co.uk