Katrina Larkin is an endlessly enthusiastic person. And why shouldn’t she be? The co-founder of The Big Chill has what she frequently describes as ‘the best job in the world’, and her puppy-like descriptions and elucidations of the events at this pillar of the English festival season make it a very difficult claim to argue with.
When asked to sum up the atmosphere of the event, she treats me to a long passionate treatise, starting with a pleasingly unaffected ‘oh gosh’, before [in a heavily edited version] venturing that ‘it is really hard to get across what happens at The Big Chill unless you go. We bring loads of people together, and give them an opportunity to be as carefree as possible.’ She then ends with a really-rather-sweet ‘why can’t the rest of the world be like this?’
When I then put forward that The Big Chill is particularly relevant for those from the capital looking for a weekend in the country, she gently but firmly informs me this is anything but a Birkenstock Bash and that ‘the crowd is not just from London. There’s all sorts of different tribes, with different expectations. Lots of families come and spend all their time in the Family Field, while others come for a banging weekend. It’s just pure escapism really; in whichever way you want it.’
With 30,000 people in attendance (39,000 if you include artists, staff, volunteers, liggers and a thousand other components of the Big Chill family she rattles off) those are some big tribes. But with such different clans dropping in, how do they all go together to create what she later refers to as the ‘essence of the Big Chill’? It transpires that the ‘first festival was for friends and friends of friends. It was just people that were like minded and it grew from that start, 15 years ago. It was a very organic growth to where it is now.’
So far, so good. But for the kids that make up a lot of the crowd, what is there to do? After all, they can’t just enjoy the sun and get gently sozzled like the rest of us. Kids need entertainment, and lots of it. ‘Well’, she starts, ‘we provide a huge range of activities. There’s Club Mum, which is a huge playground where the kids can go and the parents just sit round the edge. There’s kids theatre, face painting. Then there’s the zombie film.’ Of course, the zombie film. Katrina mentions this several times, as if its the most natural thing in the world. Apparently on the Thursday they are asking anyone in the grounds to come down to the main stage dressed as zombies, wherein they will be filmed as part of a production in tandem with one of the festivals partners, Film Four. ‘It’s eccentric, very tongue in cheek. We want to get all the parents to bring their kids, but we also want all the adults up for it too.’ Eccentricity is the buzz word here; providing an opportunity for everyone to escape the (dis)comfort of their normal lives.
The kids will be well tended to then, but what of those that don’t have kids, or who have kids and want to revisit the days when they didn’t? No problem. ‘There are parts of the festival where we say no kids aloud. And ’she adds, almost ominously, ‘nights at the Big Chill are definitely not for kids.’ This bodes well for the people, myself included, that view festivals as an opportunity to stretch the limits of ones body and mind for a few days. It is clear that while The Big Chill is certainly kid friendly its anything but a kids festival , and that its ‘the parallel lines of things going on’ that make it the event it is.
We’ve been jabbering away contentedly for a while and it suddenly dawns that there’s one thing we haven’t got round to talking about yet, a pretty important thing all things considered. The music. The Big Chill has an eclectic mix of heritage artists, beat influenced indie bands and acolytes of the dance music scene. When asked as to who she’s looking forward to she (like a lot of people are saying at the moment) name checks Friendly Fires. 'And of course, David Byrne, who’s a bit of a hero.’ She later professes a hope that Byrne’s set will be the true communal moment of the weekend, ‘when all these disparate tribes come together to watch this guy in a white tutu, and dance to a few Talking Heads tunes.’ Other than that she mentions the evergreen Orbital, Alice Russell Band and Mr Scruff, who she also intends ‘to have a cup of tea with’ at his Tea Party tent.
So, grown men in tutu’s, zombie films, face painting, cups of tea with internationally renowned DJ’s and producers, escapism. On the surface The Big Chill hits all the bases, and comes across as a festival apart. But, I wonder, does Katrina herself get to join in the fun?
‘I’ll be walking around everywhere and joining in, that’s for sure. But do I ever get to take my festival organiser hat off? No. You won’t find me pissed, raving at 6 in the morning.’ Sensing my vague disappointment at this, she adds ‘but who cares? I’ve got the best job in the world; it’s like I’ve run off to join the circus.’
Posted In Festivals, Jun 22 2009.
Words - David