This week I should have been experiencing and photographing the Glastonbury festival for the first time. That it would have been my first is for me is matter of some regret as I have spent a long career trying to shoot a mix of all things British, and in particular iconic British events. How I managed to miss this festival is almost beyond me, given its significance in the British social calendar. I do have an excuse though, as the last weekend of June is always the AGM of Magnum, the cooperative that I am a member of, and I always felt obliged and keen to attend.
Left, the Cadmus ship in the Greenpeace field. Right, a lockdown notice at Mary’s Gate.
So for the 50th festival I had planned to go, but as we all know it was cancelled. However, I thought it would be interesting to tour the site just before the festival would have opened, to see how it looks.
Cows at the Pyramid stage.
I am being taken around by John from the press office, and the first thing to remember is that this is a large, busy and working farm. I photograph Steven, the farm manager, cleaning his tractor, and there are nearby piles of manure, and in front of the skeleton of the Pyramid stage is a large herd of friesian cows where normally you would see many thousands of dancing, waving festivalgoers.
Top, Joe Rush’s Mutoid Waste sculptures for Cineramageddon. Above, the Kidzfield castle.
The other first impression is that the site is huge. This will not be news to regular attendees, but to this Glasto virgin it amazing to see the scale of it all. We pass the staff canteen, which serves 20,000 meals a day; we see assorted landmark sites like the Greenpeace boat and the stone circle. We visit a site called Permaculture, where John picks some raspberries: normally at this time of year it would be a thriving market garden.
The Underground Piano bar.
All around the site are remains of the assorted attractions waiting to be brought back to life in a year’s time. There is a sense of melancholy about the whole site.
Michael and Emily Eavis.
We go back to base and meet Emily, and a few moments later Michael comes by in his bright red Land Rover. He is a pretty nimble 85-year-old. I explain I have taken his photo a few times and say the last time was when he opened a summer fete at an old people’s home in nearby Shepton Mallet. He says: ‘That’s the sort of thing I do!’ I shoot their portrait in front of the door to one of the farm barns.
Above, King’s Meadow, with Stone Circle (erected 1992) in the distance. Left, seating in Permaculture. Right, a stone bench in the woods above King’s Meadow. In Eavis family folklore, this private area is known as Keep the Fuckers Out.
The tour continues and I go to an area with dozens of skips and many refuse lorries, a reminder that at the festival peak this is a community of more than a quarter of a million people, with all the servicing this entails. There are piles of old oil barrels which are the litter bins, which are freshly painted every year but are now looking a bit sad. I go to the festival workshop barn, where Rob is employed year-round to build and maintain the festival infrastructure.
I hope to be back next year, to see the real thing in full operation, but I am grateful to have had this chance to first see the lay of the land.
Top, the 2020 poster design by Stanley Donwood, using lyrics from Paul McCartney. All proceeds from poster sales will go to the festival’s joint charities, which have lost out due to its cancellation.
