Latitude 2006: In Words

United Kingdom | by Vicky Addinall | 20 July 2006

Great idea that, a festival of real diversity where you can float between tents of every creative form - poetry, theatre, literature and comedy. But can spoken words sustain a festival crowd for three whole days?

While some festival goers choose to view the world's beauty and banality through the power of mind-bending stimulation, the message at Latitude is that we should use our heads not lose our heads. On paper, the concepts of the inaugral outing could sound a bit too far up the intellectualised gluteus maximus - so Suffolk. But rather than pretentious chin-stroking and elitist nodding, Latitude proves itself to be all about involvement, especially in the poetry, theatre and literature tents. In fact, there's a lot more cross referencing and nerdism going on in the music tents. These are the places to party at Latitude...

Walking through the woods and across the lake into the main site of Latitude you're immediately struck by the beauty of the Henman estate. All trees and grassy knolls, it is a suitably good-looking piece of land to inspire the creative juices. An ‘Ode to Latitude’ is already being conjured in ryhme by the time we see the first signs of high brow culture (see what I've done there - not very well admitedly!). But seriously, if anywhere could pull off a festival of artistic diversity, it’s this ancient pocket of Suffolk countryside.

First theatre. And there'ss enough on show to satisfy even the most seasoned thespian – Shakespeare, Checkov, The Royal Court. I, however, stumble upon a morning performance from the Small Change Theatre Co and a training session with Brigadier John Wahon. Playing along with a party bag full of delights from balloons to tangerines, you wonder it's like Alan Partridge taking a personal development session, crossed with an army recruitment drive. Wahon is a double-edged character, a bully yet broken within, and ultimately helps convey the message that we can ‘Make the Difference’ if we really want to. Heavy stuff if you want it to be or just a kind of weird party in a tent. Either way I can’t believe how much I’ve flexed the old brain cells already, it’s not even midday!

So, feeling suitably proud of myself, I decide a little bit of afternoon relaxation is in order. And what better way to while away a lazy summer’s day than with a bit of comedy. With no low lighting or smokey haze, Latitude’s bright, chandelier-adorned comedy tent is not your typical dank pub comedy venue. But with a bill including a list of famous circuit names such as Sean Lock, Marcus Brigestocke and Rob Newman it is hardly surprising it becomes the festival goers favourite day time haunt. After all who needs market stalls and fairground rides for entertainment when you can lie in the sun, beer in hand, watching a funny man (Sean Lock) in a green riddler suit. Suddenly the appeal of Latitude is becoming clearer.

As night slowly falls, it’s not dance tents that keep the Latitude faithful buzzing – it’s poetry. The bright lights of the poetry tent shine out, attracting a mesmerised crowd like moths. There are some recognisable names gracing the intimate stage - punk poets Patti Smith, John Cooper Clark and hip hop beat poet Saul Williams, as well as a long list of lesser-known wordsmiths. Tireless compere and Aisle16 poet Luke Wright leads Latitude’s vocal attacks with a relentless energy. Lying back on a soft cushion, box of wine in hand, listening to the rhythms and words of the bards on stage, you realise that poetry really is a relatively forgotten art form. Performed, the spoken word can be hypnotic; a powerful tool that when tapped can express our reality just as clearly, lyrically and humorously as any other art form – I for one have never heard any one express their hatred for Victoria Beckham so eloquently as Luke Wright. Far and away the most impressive performer, however, is the incredible David Jay, who's conspiracy theory poem on everything, from 9/11 to Princess Diana's death, is utter genius.

Latitude offers something for a much broader audience than you’d think and somehow proves that art doesn’t have to be pretentious, it can be unifying if only given the chance. So next year, brace yourself, chuck out your preconceptions and give it a go - you will definitely enjoy it.