The Candelabra
Back in the day, the late 90s, Glastonbury’s mythical Irish Piano Bar had first settled in the Greencrafts field – a large hole in the ground with seating cut into the earth, an acoustic stage at one end and an entrance at the other, covered by a tarpaulined bender. I’d been down there after dark and it was dimly lit by a few candles and storm lamps. I said to my mate that they could do with a candelabra.
“Have you got one?”
I’d not long since had an exhibition so unusually had several larger pieces with me. We went back to mine and I selected one and filled it with candles. We walked back across the field, lit it and walked down into the hole with it ablaze – we made quite an entrance.
It took pride of place over the stage for the rest of the weekend and by the end of the festival we’d all become the firmest of friends and they bought it from me after passing the hat – getting mates’ rates, of course!
The following year I wasn’t at Glastonbury as I was playing midwife to my daughter for my first grandchild’s birth, so we ended up watching it on the telly. It’s just not the same festival on TV as on the ground; they’ve usually focused on the mainstream music and the large stages of Babylon rather than the random magic of the green fields, but this year the BBC had decided as part of their coverage to highlight the build of and performances in the Piano Bar.
“Bloody hell mum, there’s Michael Eavis, Billy Bragg and Jules Holland in the Piano Bar!”
“Sod that…” I said,
“…just look what they’re performing under… my candelabra!”
Somewhere I’ve still got an obsolete video of that scene, kept for posterity despite the fact it’ll likely never be played again.
And the Piano Bar crew? They’ve become some of my closest friends and that candelabra led on to some of the best adventures I’ve ever had.
Kate The Wordsmith 