Chris is an experienced Greenbelter who has attended (sporadically) since the 1980s. By contrast, 2025 was Michael’s first festival. Both are in their mid sixties, Chris gives us an insight into what the festival is all about and how it’s developed over the years (including an interesting interview with a former Chair); Michael concentrates on first impressions, whilst between them they review a varied selection of acts and speakers.
Chris
Greenbelt Festival is an annual, August bank holiday weekend, arts, faith, and justice festival. It began in 1974, and its stated purpose was to create a space where faith, creativity, and social issues could intersect. I attended the festival several times in the 1980s, when its attendances peaked at over 20,000. Only visiting once again (early in this millennium) before regular attendance in recent years, I’ve now found it to be a very different beast. In its heyday it seemed strongly evangelical in nature, and music (including some high-profile acts like U2 and The Alarm) was the primary offering and attraction. In 2025, with a festival theme of Hope in the Making, theatre, visual arts, literature, poetry and political debate have grown in prominence. Today’s festival has become renowned for its progressive stance on social justice; supporting campaigns against apartheid, promoting peace and environmental responsibility. Inclusivity is also a watchword.
My 2025 visit to Greenbelt began on Friday morning in the Shelter venue, with quiet reflection and peaceful contemplation at Morning Prayer with the Northumbria Community. These guys do this as well as it can be done, and it was a great way to start the weekend.I then went to the Wild Goose marquee next door, hosted by the Iona Community, and dipped into Field Notes: The Poetry of Earth and Sky. With poets Jo Love, Liz MacWhirter, and Christine Polhill.
I was slightly late arriving, and, as I settled myself, heard what in my opinion is one of the finest lines of verse ever written. ‘At the sand, where the blue inks into the bay’, read one of the poets – whose name I didn’t catch on account of my late arrival – from her piece about the island of Iona. The other offerings were also of excellent quality.
Next, it was across to an outdoor space, Forum and Commons, to witness Henge presented by Motionhouse. It was supposedly ‘tracing the steps of our ancestors on an epic journey of discovery, curiosity and ingenuity’ but I didn’t perceive much of that in what could best be described as a parkour performance, with the participants flinging themselves remorselessly and sometimes worryingly around a set of large stone effect pillars. Sure, it was energetic, bright and colourful, but the supposed storyline was not evident to me, and after 20 minutes the repetitive gurning and acrobatics paled for me (although the large family audience seemed enthralled) and I wandered off.
Then it was back to the Shelter for Breathwork presented by Matt Freer; ‘Breathwork will involve conscious connected breathing…releasing tension and peace’. I found it a bit obvious and old hat, but that may be because I learned these techniques as a drama school student almost 50 years ago; however, my co-correspondent Michael got a lot out of it.
Saturday took me to the No Fly Zone, a recent and positive addition to the festival, comprising a space where live speakers conjoin with guests from around the world who participate virtually on a massive screen. The tech quality was excellent. I was there for a poetry reading/conversation entitled Worldwide Woken Spurred between Harry Baker (live) and Lyndsay Rush (remote) who alternated between reading their poems and chatting. The poetry was good, the chat not so much.
Greenbelt has a good habit of inviting speakers who become famous for one thing before lending their fame and ability to another cause or activity. Liz Carr, best known for her role in Silent Witness is a classic example of this excellent policy. Liz is a passionate opponent of what she calls ‘assisted suicide’, and presented her case sensitively and passionately in a conversation well guided by Chine McDonald at Pagoda, the largest marquee venue on the festival site. Natural and humorous, Liz discussed her documentary Better Off Dead? and a potential upcoming documentary of a visit to Lourdes. ‘Maybe I’ll go to Disneyland on the way back’, she said, ‘And maybe Switzerland – for issues that will come up later! There is too much commentary saying disabled people seeking death is a good thing’. Liz rails against that attitude ‘I have a faith but it’s not in a god, it’s in other people. We need to give everyone a good end of life. Since I was 13 I’ve been afraid every day that I’m going to die’. Her primary concern is that doctors will have the ability to make the decision for patients rather than people making it for themselves. ‘What keeps you hopeful?’ asked Chine, ‘Survival is an act of resistance’ was Liz’s poignant reply.
Next up was more poetry, back at Wild Goose with Martin Wroe. This was intelligent and very amusing. Highlights for me were his poem about saying ‘Good morning’ to people in London and their various (mostly astonished) reactions; a family’s pleas to a vicar conducting a dearly departed’s funeral – ‘We don’t want anything religiousy. He wasn’t religious at all; can we just have the Lord’s Prayer?’; and a customer service questionnaire about life, ‘Would you recommend our product to your friends?’. Knowing that Martin had been closely involved with Greenbelt for more than forty years – including thirty years as a trustee and a period serving as Chair – I managed to catch up with him later for a chat.
Chat with Martin Wroe
CHRIS When did the festival’s style and ethos start to change and what do you think brought that about?
MARTIN I suppose we’re all part of a culture that’s changing. These things are iterative and organic; you don’t really notice them when they’re happening. You notice that there’s argument and debate about proposed speakers, and you cross a line and it’s all fine; maybe some people stop coming but others start to come.
C Was there a point when it was decided ‘Right, we’re going to become much more political?’
M Well from the early years the festival was always much more political than other events that emerged at that time. It emerged from musicians who, whilst being from the evangelical tradition, were much more progressive – mainly because they were involved in the arts – and resisted the restrictions that were often put on artists from that tradition.
C So the festival was radical even back then?
M Exactly yeah. That might have been to do with religious expression, it might have been to do with sex and gender. It was a lot of different things.
C I notice that the demographic has changed. Older people, more families. Is it the case that Greenbelters have just grown older alongside the festival?
M That’s at least part of the answer. A lot of people think ‘this is home for me this makes sense to me. I struggle in my local community to find a faith that is true to who I am, whereas I come to this event and it’s much more curious, there’s more sense of adventure, there’s more interest in questions than simply giving you loads of answers’.
C Do you think that says something about where the church is these days?
M I think so yeah. You mentioned pilgrimage and that seems to be one area that is in renaissance, in renewal. I put festivals in the same category. They’re kind of on the edges of the world of church, where you can be in or out and nobody’s going to ask questions. People come along to Greenbelt who wouldn’t call themselves churchgoers or Christians – sometimes they’re from a different faith, but they find a sense of home, a sense of collaboration.
C Are younger people still coming to the festival?
M Yes the organisers have been focused on that in the last few years. But these days buying a ticket for a festival is quite expensive – and it’s very expensive to put a festival on, since Brexit and Covid. They work very hard not to exclude people on the basis of cost, but it’s difficult.
C When did the focus on social justice emerge?
M That was also definitely there in the 1980s. There were lots of people always saying we don’t want to promote some kind of pietistic edition of Christianity, we want to be part of a faith which is saying ‘what about justice and peace in the world’, that’s what it is to be truly human.
C Does the festival ever book acts or speakers purely for entertainment value, or does there always have to be more than that?
M Sure, because entertainment is not sneered at or looked down on; and also they’re thinking we’ve got to sell tickets. You don’t want to end up feeling like a worthy event.
C What do you think the future holds for Greenbelt?
M I never know. I hope it just keeps regenerating. The cash flow can be affected by all sorts of things; we’ve had several occasions where a storm has run through the festival and that impacts on the sale of day tickets. But the discovery was made that people cared about the festival so much they would give to it every month, and these people became the Greenbelt Angels. They really bankroll the event now. They protect it every year. They’re keeping it afloat. Post Covid, hundreds of festivals have gone to the wall because they just couldn’t afford the rising costs. But Greenbelt have had this safety net from the Angels. The virtue of a festival is that it’s nomadic, it moves around, it adapts. It’s not like traditional institutions which own real estate and are therefore forced to conform to certain rules. Although that makes it more vulnerable it keeps it alive and flexible. So I’m hoping that whatever happens to the structures of the institutions – which seem to be beleaguered – festivals, not least Greenbelt, will work out a way to survive. There’s a sociological term called a TAZ, which stands for a Temporary Autonomous Zone and Greenbelt is one of those. It arrives, it’s there for a few days, it inhabits your heart and your memories and then it disappears. But it changes you, it sends you in a certain direction.
And back to the events
On Sunday morning I headed to the Christian communion service that Greenbelt holds annually. It’s a spectacular event, with thousands of people belting out hymns, breaking bread and sharing wine together. In recent years an alternative, ‘Quiet Communion’ has been introduced for those who prefer a more contemplative atmosphere. I attended this and was richly blessed under a beautiful canopy of trees, reflection, and stillness.
After communion I found myself at No Fly Zone again for an entertaining and tongue in cheek romp through a brief history of religious broadcasting. The First Religious Broadcast was presented by self-styled ‘stand up historian’ and comedy writer Paul Kerensa (Miranda, Not Going Out). Paul was interesting and funny, informing us about the first telegram – ‘What hath God wrought’ (Numbers 23.23) was the message sent between two US states; the prayer that launched the BBC; and other fascinating titbits. ‘I’m an Anglican not an anglican’t’, Paul informed us.
Jeremy Corbyn
My thoroughly enjoyable weekend was rounded off by listening to Jeremy Corbyn, in conversation with Paul Northup. This man is almost certainly the best Prime Minister we never had. Entering to a rousing rendition of ‘Ohhh Jeremy Corbyn’ and responding humorously to an opening question about fig jam, his pearls of wisdom included:
About his new party: ‘We will never ever blame refugees for the problems that exist in this country’
‘We need to get away from the misery show offered by Reform’
‘We’re one world, one humanity. Let’s grow up and BE one world and one humanity’
‘What kind of society is it that deliberately impoverishes people with disabilities’
‘If we can outlaw chemical weapons we can outlaw nuclear weapons. It must be done’
‘Racism in any form is evil and wrong. But it is important to criticise what Israel does without descending into anti-semitism’
‘Whatever faith we are we should march together for humanity and justice’
‘It’s always the very wealthy who say that tax won’t work’
‘The basic tenets of socialism and Christianity are very similar’
‘A lot of people are totally infected with socialism and don’t know it’
‘Festivals are incredible. They give a chance to be exposed to ideas you maybe haven’t been exposed to before. It’s a safe space where you can have brilliant discussions in a relaxed atmosphere’
‘Private schools are very good at providing good education in the performing arts. I want state schools to be as good or better at it’
‘We have to stop supplying arms to Israel, and provide all the humanitarian aid we can. I have been incredibly angry with our government’
Echoing the festival theme for 2025:
‘Hope is the most valuable thing. Let’s get some going’
Michael
The festival was held in the grounds of the beautiful Boughton House near Kettering. The Greenbelt website states ‘You can expect a warm welcome – regardless of ethnicity, gender, religion, sexuality, disability or background’, and that certainly was the case. Alas, one of the other claims, ‘We work to make each Greenbelt more environmentally friendly than the last’ still needs addressing, as many stalls were issuing lots of handouts ranging from A5 sized paper to A4 booklets, so some stall holders need to be encouraged to sing from the same hymn sheet – perhaps literally!
My last experience of a festival was in the late 1970s when I went three times to the Reading Rock Festival. My, how festival formats and life in general have changed since then! I last camped well over five years ago, which was a tolerable experience, where showers were readily available. Chris warned me that you have to book a shower, so off I toddled to the relevant area and met the guy taking bookings for showers. He proclaimed the booking system and facilities as ‘marvellous’ but when I asked to book a shower for each of the three days, Friday to Sunday, he told me there was only one remaining slot, at 12.30 pm on Friday. He wasn’t best pleased when I told him that this was hardly marvellous. Thank God I had a pack of baby wipes to get me through the next few days.
The festival theme, Hope in the Making, was well reflected by the acts and speakers I saw. There were so many events that it was impossible to take in even 20% of them. I was spoilt for choice.
The Friday Comedy Club sets were very good. Mrs Barbara Nice, the host, soon got us laughing. Crudi Dench is a bearded drag queen described as a New Yorker, but sounding like a posh Scouser. Her set faded and ended with an out-of-context, mimed and over-dubbed rap. Plastic Jeezus recovered the humour well, followed by the amazing Fatiha El-Ghorri, and the evening was topped off with Lost Voice Guy as the headline act.
The Comedy Club was preceded by a short play The Mistake, a gripping drama about the dropping of the Hiroshima bomb and its consequences. The Forum marquee was too small for the number of folk attending. Strangely, they cleared the audience from the tent after The Mistake, so I lost a good position, had to queue again, and ended up tightly squeezed in, sitting on the grass for 90 minutes. The switch to musical comedy acts with static mics after a play with head mics was challenging for the technical crew.
The provision of a good number and range of food outlets was appreciated and saved me traipsing back and forth for cooking at the camper van. (It didn’t stop him eating everything I cooked as well! CHRIS). Weather wise, the first night was down to single digit temperatures but the rest of the weekend thankfully warmed up a little, with some pleasant sunny spells; thankfully unlike my previous experience of a quagmired Reading.
I enjoyed a great session on Breathwork by Matt Freer; a deep reflection on a gospel passage by the London Jesuit Centre; and a packed but amazing Prayer Drumming opportunity led by the Northumbria Community.
Rebellions are built on Hope was a fantastic session, led by David Cole of Forest Church. He focused on rebelling against the trend of killing the planet by changing our way of life. It included a very impactful, grounding meditation, placing our bare feet on the earth and rebalancing our free radicals with negative ions (I found this very beneficial and it has even tempted me to acquire a pair of grounding shoes) and finished with a creative rebellion flag making exercise, using available natural resources.
Musically, there were many acts who performed well, The Longest Johns – sea shanty based Folk; Benin International Music – a fusion of many West African traditions; Martyn Joseph, Frankie Archer and Crys Matthews – serving up songs and chatting about justice; The Sound of The Sirens – a multi-instrumental, song-writing duo from Exeter giving us up-beat ballads and anthems about social justice with well crafted songs and harmonies.
I was blown away by punk band The Twistettes in the Rabble Rouser space, a sister duo from Fife comprising pounding drums and rasping bass guitar. The bassist, Jo, had very strong vocals, supported by the drummer, Nicky, on backing vocals and harmonies. Their song The Line, stood out for me and the set ended with a fantastic rendition of 4 Non-blondes – what’s going on‘. They held the audience right through the set and were my music highlight of the festival.
So my first Greenbelt, and overall an enjoyable experience. There were a couple of niggles. Volunteers, at the entrance and various locations around the site, lacked basic knowledge about almost everything. They basically did a good job in a friendly manner but perhaps need more or better training. Our area of the campground had an abundance of families with noisy kids; perhaps an adult only area for us oldies should be considered. I would visit again, but probably stay off-site, if only for the comfort of a warm bed and a hot shower.
