Dizzee Rascal - Benicassim FIB 2010

Living Like a Rock Star – Benicassim FIB 2010 in Photos is the 4th and final part of a series on the FIB Music Festival in Benicassim. Visit part one, Into the Spotlight with Kasabian here, part to Behind the Scenes at Benicassim here and part three The Prodigy Live here. Enjoy! 

Piercing Kiosk at Benicassim FIB 2010

By the fourth and final day, I am well and truly into the FIB groove. Heck, I am even the Mayor of the VIP area on FourSquare (for those of you care what that means.) FIB has quite a line-up, even if Lily Allen did pull out for the second year running. The Prodigy, Kasabian, Vampire Weekend, The Gorillaz, Ellie Goulding, John Lydon, Ash, DJ Shadow, The Specials, Peter Hook, GoldFrapp and all the others I didn’t manage to see. 

By day I’ve been hiking, kayaking, swimming and flying. By night, I check the permissions list, buy vouchers for beer, grab earplugs and camera and head to the stage. 

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tired, but as the security guards shine a torch on my pass and I stride around that corner, the surrounding screams, swirling spotlights and throbbing baseline energise me. 

For a brief, flicker of a moment – I’m living like a rock star. 

One View from the Photo Pit - Benicassim FIB 2010

Benicassim FIB 2010Opposite the VIP Entrance

Opposite the VIP Entrance

Vampire Weekend

VIP Area - FIB 2010 Benicassim

The Press Room - FIB 2010 Benicassim

Peter Hook Goes Wild - FIB Benicassim 2010

Making Friends at the FIB

Food at the FIB

FIB 2010

FIB 2010 Fan

Chilling Out in the VIP Area - Benicassim 2010

View of FIB from the Mountains

After 4 Days at FIB...

Er, me - FIB 2010 - Photo Credit: Keith Jenkins - Velvet Escape

Benicassim FIB 2010 - My Favourite Photo

“FIB” is a four day music festival held each year in Benicassim in Spain. I attended as a guest of The Land of Valencia but all words, photos and opinions are mine (except for (obviously?!) the photo of me, which was kindly provided by Keith Jenkins of the luscious travel blog Velvet Escape.)

For a brief, flicker of a moment – I’m living like a rock star. 

-How would you describe yourself and what you do?

I am a Canadian-born, Bristol-based choreographer. Before embarking on my own choreographic adventures, I was a dancer for 8 years with Wayne McGregor ‘s Random Dance Company, touring  extensively on the international contemporary dance scene.

-Where have you travelled to?

With work… it’s an interesting exercise to try to list destinations without omitting any… to various cities of the United States on a number occasions, Azerbaijan, Georgia, Uzbekistan, Kazakstan, Sweden, Finland, Russia, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Poland, Romania, Bulgaria, Hungary, Albania, Armenia, Turkey, Kosovo, Serbia, Croatia, Macedonia, Germany,  Austria, Italy, Spain, Portugal,  Cyprus, Belgium, Holland, France,  Ireland, Colombia, Kenya, Malaysia, Hong Kong (in 1997…), China,  Japan…

Wow! Which place surprised you the most?

Yekaterineburg, on the eastern side of the Ural Mountain Range in Russia, left a lasting impression. Not exactly surprise but wonder.

-Why?

It felt out of time, otherworldly. It didn’t really match up with any images I might have conjured up in my mind, I guess. I really felt elsewhere.

-Did you know when you got into this line of work that you’d be travelling a lot?

The amount of touring a company gets varies a lot. There was no way of knowing if Random was going to be called to travel or not at the outset.  I am so, so glad that it became part of the work. In fact, towards the end of my time with the company, when I found myself feeling rather blazé about an upcoming trip to Hong Kong, I thought it must be a sign that it was time to look for a change in my career.

-How did you get into this line of work?

Dance is something I somehow stumbled across when I was 11 years old or so. It took me a good few years to really get into it. I enjoyed it a lot, but for me dance was never the one and only thing that I could see myself doing as a grown-up; it was not that kind of all-consuming passion. It was something I was very interested in but I had other interests and aspirations and so the decision to follow this path as opposed to studying something else wasn’t that easy to make. I guess I met teachers, dancers and choreographers during my training and career who have kept me curious and inspired.

 -Would you recommend it to someone starting out now?

It is a difficult question as the market is full of dancers who don’t manage to make a living out of it. It is not an easy career choice. Competition is fierce. But is it not everywhere…? If you are hungry for it, you have to give it a go!  I guess what is useful is to not put all your eggs in the same basket, and to cultivate interests and skills in other areas too. At least that’s what I felt I needed to do when I was starting out.

-Any tips for beginners?

Remember why you have chosen to do what you are doing, what it is about it that you like and keep this close to you. 

Keep an open an inquisitive mind.

-What are the downsides of travelling with work?

Packing and unpacking  repeatedly, of course… And in our line of work, there is the fact that we do spend most of our time, wherever we are in the world, getting the show ready in the black box that is a theatre. So it can be frustrating sometimes when you actually feel you don’t get enough time to enjoy a place as much as you’d like before you have to leave again.

-The upsides?

One of the upside has to be the way it allows you to make contact with people. The interactions are different to those you are likely to develop if you travel as a tourist, I think, and it can make for a different travelling experience.

-What’s the most dangerous place you’ve ever visited?

Mmm… Medellìn in Colombia has a bad reputation but Belgrade on the election night that dislodged Milosevic from power didn’t feel that safe either…

-The most over-rated?

Pass…

-Your favourite? (Ah, you knew that one was coming)

That’s tough. I fell in love with Lisbon when we went there to perform.  I love Lisbon.

-Do you need to take special equipment with you when you travel? How do you do that?

Now that I make my own work and am sometimes invited to perform abroad, at times I have to carry a huge suitcase of props from A to B. Lots of excess luggage charges!

-Who’s the most exciting celebrity you’ve met on your travels?

Well, if a trip to the National Gallery in London counts, Salman Rushdie.

-What makes you shudder about travelling?

The wait at the airport

-How has travel changed you?

It has many times been an occasion of measuring just how vulgar the disparity of wealth is on this planet. It helps me keeping a wider perspective on life, on the “general state of affairs”, it prevents me from getting too comfortable.

-What has been your most poignant moment on your travels?

I can’t put my finger now on a poignant moment. But some vivid memories include a truly amazing tango lesson I took in Ankara, a huge moon on the Pacific on my birthday in San Diego, waking up to discover the mountains outside my window in Almaty, getting off the coach to cross the border from Serbia to Kosovo on foot…

-Would you do it all again?

The travelling yes, the dancing, probably not!

Thanks Laila! To find out more about Laila’s work, visit her website here.  Photo credits: Ravi Deepres & Mike Kwasniak

4m2 (standing for four metres squared rather than a new name for a  TV robot) explores what freedom means on an individual level, taking its inspiration, as Claire explains, from a “Tibetan prisoner who found his own sense of freedom within his confined space of 4m^2″

Against a backdrop of barbed wire, cliff edges and occasional darkness, the pair put together an energetic and captivating performance, made all the more engaging, I felt, by the relatively confined space that we all found oursevles in. When I can see each breath a dancer takes, I feel more connected than when I watch a theatrical performance in the distance.

As for the rest of the gallery – the Centro de Las Artes de Sevilla, in case you were wondering – here’s a tiny selection of what else was on offer. I liked some, I loved some and I loathed some of the works on display – but at least they made for a more interesting pre-show wait than adverts for popcorn and soft drinks.

See what you think:

Find full details about 4m2 here

For more about what goes on Inside the Travel Lab browse through the home page.

Maypole Dancing - by Pete Ashton

In France, the bank holiday falls on May 1st, whereas England grants the first Monday in May to ensure a long weekend. But the differences run deeper than that…

The differences run deeper than that…

In Oxford, all-night revellers and schoolchildren (generally in two separate groups), gather at dawn to hear the hushed tones of the Magdalen College choir. For a short while, all is quiet, before mayhem descends and the pubs throw open their doors – at 6 am.

Morris Dancers - Red Betty Black

Morris Dancing fills the streets, with men in voluminous white blouses, bells, sticks and handkerchiefs dancing in formation.

Children wear face-paint and skip around a Maypole, a rod with rainbow ribbons attached at the top. Each child holds one ribbon and the choreography creates swirling patterns of colour.

Lily of the Valley

In France, things are a little different.

In the days before the holiday, workers buy lily-of-the-valley, a genteel pearly white flower, to present to a lady. This refreshingly sweet practice stems from the Court of Charles IX and everyone overlooks the ironic conflict with the day’s other purpose – to commemorate the rights of workers within the republic. As a concession, sales of the flower are tax-free.

Of course, people mark the occasion with their own rituals in both countries - by heading to DIY shops or hosting barbecues. These modern interpretations reflect the age-old promise of May Day – the hope that summer is around the corner.

Or, you can see a rambling, scruffy line of pale-faced young men shuffling forwards in clear and present embarrassment. Tango lessons in Buenos Aires are not for the faint-hearted.

“The most important thing to remember…..,” our petite instructor’s translation fades out; her master has orchestrated a dramatic pause. He stands to attention, dressed in tar-black shoes, trousers and shirt that meld to his skin. He sharpens his beaded eyes before completing his sentence. “Never kick the mujer.”

His partner hesitates, her hands fluttering in a bird-like gesture. “You should never kick the woman.”

Deep in this dusty underground hall, I am relieved.

“Pression,’ the lesson goes on. “You must have pression. You must have control. You must look as though you are in control. And you must be in control.”

To illustrate this point, the men must practice walking around the room. Not dancing. Walking. While projecting the impression that they are in control.

The music crackles, thumping out a slow, almost military beat. Our lead berates his blushing students in denim and trainers. Chin up. Look manly. Stride. Breathe. It is one of the funniest things I have ever seen.

Two or three tracks later, he commands us girls onto the dance floor.

“When you take the woman,” the dainty senorita translates, “you must pression against the hips, with your hand in the small of her back. She must never forget,” she adds, “that you are in control.”

Four minutes later I’m being introduced to Brad. He sweeps his fringe away from his eyes and offers me an apology before we even begin. Hand in clammy hand, he tries to teach me how to walk. My heels scrape along the polished wooden floor, an erratic match to the striking rhythm that surrounds us.

Brad limps away and an even thinner, more awkward American, Brady, takes his place. He cannot look me in the eye and in return I gaze over his shoulder to watch my husband. Paired with the professional dancer, his face radiates fear, as this taut, tight five-foot-two bundle of muscle urges him to take control.

My stage-side ruminations don’t last long, however. Soon, Brady steps aside and in the gap between thundering soundtracks I realise that it is my turn with the master. With a loud snap, the music starts and my back cracks in two. I never realised I could bend this much, although it doesn’t seem to be within my control.

According to the lesson, we are still only walking. But with my pelvis grazing his, my hand clasped tight and my centre of gravity displaced far behind my feet, it dawns on me that it scarcely matters what I do.

I’ve never shared so much surface area with a stranger and through the subterranean heat of Buenos Aires, my British manners kick in….. I lift my eyes. I try to offer a self-deprecating shrug or at the very least forge some small talk.

No way. His eyes lock mine with more intensity than his body. There’s no space to turn my head. My cheeks flame and I can see nothing other than his fixed determination.

Legends describe tango as a dance fermented in Argentina’s underworld, a tradition derived from prostitutes and gangsters, an outlet to express a bitter and beautiful interpretation of life. In a flash I understand it all. The passion, the violence, the views towards women.

With cold concentration, we cross beneath the spotlights. Then I am released. Without a second glance, he selects another woman from our bumbling, floppy-haired crowd.

I gasp for breath as my thoughts catch up with my pulse.

We were only walking; the tango is yet to come.

Names have been changed to protect the embarrassed.

Update – the accordion is in fact not an accordion. It’s a bandoneon, an instrument with buttons instead of keys on the side. Thanks to TangoAna for the update on Tango.