Free Beer and Fairy Lights

Free Beer & Fairy Lights: Heaven In A Handcart – Matt Abbot (@MattAbbottSkint) has a surprising amount of fun at the last Culture Vultures get together …

As a Wakefield lad, it’s not too often I extend my cultural horizons as far as the distant and wondrous land that is “Leeds”. And as a relatively normal human being, it’s not too often that I accept an invitation from a complete stranger to join them for drinks in a warehouse on a darkened urban backstreet.

But on Friday 23rd November that’s exactly what happened, and thanks to the LS14 Trust and The Culture Vulture, as well as the array of people involved – from those performing in the back of a van to those turning the sausages – it was one of the best nights I’ve had in months. And for once that wasn’t a statement based entirely on the fact that they were dishing out free beers…

Being a relative newcomer to the Leeds arts scene, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect as we made our way down North Street. Let’s face it; when you’re en route to somewhere completely new and all you know is that there’ll be “arty people” there, it’s just as likely to be disastrous as it is delightful. The phrase does carry a potentially lethal ambiguity. But I’m an optimistic chap and I’d just paid £4.60 for a pint, so at this stage I had nothing to lose…off to the Powerlite Warehouse I went.

There’s a group of people sat around a fire as we turn the corner. Just behind them is the entrance to a large white marquee which is illuminated by fairy lights, and from the back of the room I can hear ‘Atomic’ by Blondie pumping out of the sound system. So far, so good. I head to the bar only to discover that Leeds Brewery are providing free bottles of their latest tipple, and within minutes I’m being introduced to a string of people who all seemed genuinely bloody brilliant.

In an instant it felt as though we were somewhere like Glastonbury or Latitude; the atmosphere, the surroundings, the calibre of people and the general sense that we were in a tiny little pocket; completely cut-off from the exterior world and with nothing to worry us except for the queue outside the Portaloo and the biting temperature whenever we stepped more than a metre away from the fire whilst enjoying a crafty fag.

It didn’t just feel like a party or a piss-up or even the slight novelty of your average Leeds city centre pub transported to an unorthodox venue. There’s no way to say this without sounding ridiculously pretentious, but it genuinely felt like the coming together of like-minded people and at that moment in time we could have been in Brighton, Berlin, Manchester or Morecambe. Well, perhaps not Morecambe, but you get the picture.

Thinking back there were quite a few highlights for me, but most lasting impression came from Becki Griffiths’ performance, which as far as I’m aware is currently between working titles. It lasted approximately eleven minutes and was utterly compelling throughout. This was quite remarkable considering the simplicity and overall it is extremely difficult to do her performance justice in blog form, but the best way to describe it would be an occasionally excruciating struggle that eventually wormed and squirmed its way into a triumph, and a wonderful demonstration of how acute suggestion and inferred thought processes can take you on such a captivating journey, and genuinely leave you feeling as though you’ve experience the performance first hand, as opposed to just having witnessed it.

One of the aspects of the performance that really made it stand out, which I know was Becki’s intention, was the fact that we were held in such a confined space, and not only that but the fact that we were in such close proximity as performer and audience. There were only eight audience members allowed in due to the limited space available, and I’d say at least half of us would have been able to touch Becki without having to stretch too far had we wanted to. It really did have a profound effect, and it gave such strength to the performance that at times you could cut the tension in the room with a knife. Sound-tracked wonderfully by Bonobo’s ‘Silver’ and Portishead’s ‘Roads’, it really was a spectacle, and I hope to see more of Becki’s work again in the future.
The performance ended, we climbed out of the back of the van and then we returned – but only very partially – to something that slightly resembled reality. But as I said, only very partially…

As a young artist in West Yorkshire it inspired me as much as it excited me, and as with most things in life, the more I learn about Leeds, the more I realise I don’t know. This was a forum for experimental performances, an opportunity to meet a plethora of people, an exquisite little bubble in which you could dance to The Doors and for me, the start of a new chapter in that never-ending quest for creative fulfilment. Not bad for a dodgy warehouse on the edge of the city centre, eh?

I’d just like to take this opportunity to thank everybody who was involved in the night and also to thank Phil Kirby for asking me to write this review.