FEATURES

Bristol's Harbour Festival celebrated its 40th anniversary in style over the weekend. Julian Owen, Jess Bridgeman, Tiffany Daniels, Naomi Rainey, Hannah Chapman and Anna Behrmann were down the (water)front.

Saturday

Queen Sq, Thekla, The Louisiana, Cascade Steps

Back in the day – late 70s/early 80s – Talisman were picking up Record of the Week in NME and supporting Burning Spear, The Clash and the Stones. “We’ve got grandchildren now,” they say in disbelief from the Queen Sq stage on Friday eve, their roots reggae sound full, easy, and mellifluous. Bristol being a reggae city, it’s a little astounding that this top drawer treasure has been laying dormant in its midst for decades. Please, no longer – this is too good to lose again so swift.

The city’s Amphitheatre-based festivals are fun enough, but there’s something rather more special when one overflows across the centre. Harbour Fest brings all sides of the city together like no other, from outlying estate dwellers to inner-city hipsters. On Saturday afternoon the throng is huge, yet retains the warmth of a (massively) overgrown village fair. At the foot of Cascade Steps, Paul Garry is making like a Dylan disciple, from his intermittent loudhailer voice to talk of hurricanes. In Queen Square, Celestine is a vision in gleaming white mini dress, legs up to Mary Redcliffe spire, and assuring her audience “You’ll know this one, sing along,” before beginning a number heavy on deep “wooah-yeahs”. We will..? It takes a good few bars to recognise ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’, such is the wrong-footing of the down tempo lazy groove backing. In fairness, even the high tempo songs sound lazy groove; it’s that kind of festival staple summer soul.

Round the corner in front of Thekla there’s some serious fusion going on in the children’s play area. Trampoline + bungee harness = ‘Spiderman’ ‘ride’; little ’uns running inside transparent globes placed atop a paddling pool = well, didn’t catch the name, but it has the same envy-making ‘Well, they didn’t have that in my childhood’ result. Onboard the boat, meanwhile, Wires are supplying a – through no fault of their own – premature comedown. A distinct lugubriousness permeates the dark hold, the singer’s voice wistfully, stridently yearning for, oh, he doesn’t know, something. Guitars overlap in keening, sympathetic fashion, drums hammer the point home.

Front on, you’d expect Dizraeli to be making a different sound. After all, on the Queen Square stage we see violin, flute, a guy picking a guitar with maximum intricacy, and a double bass. Draw closer, hear those bass notes, the drum patterns, the scratch-happy DJs,  and the impression changes. Most of all we hear rapper Dizraeli himself and his smartly, swiftly rhyming folk-hop, smilingly dissecting The Man and his ‘culture’ with forensic knives and, occasionally, hammers (“the fat cats all are tossers”). Wisely, the Cascade Steps-playing Trish Brown Band are adding proportionate amounts of funk into the jazz-blues mix we heard earlier this year at the Acoustic Festival. There’s still a pushed-along-by-the-beat jazziness in the vocal – and a burst of running-excitedly-by-itself scat – and an occasionally noodlesome sax, but the underpinning groove is harder and deeper. Back in the Square, Ghanaian Atongo Zimba is dishing out aural sunshine via a koliko (two-stringed lute) and restlessly infectious rhythms making good on an upbringing spent appreciating highlife.

There’s an Arab Strap-ishness to These Black Shores’ frontman in the Louisiana, chin down and morose of vocal. Band mates draw a discreet shoegazey-ish curtain, and there’s the occasional thrum of a bloody valentine in the background. Things begin to take a turn for the muscular just as we strike back toward the Thekla. En route we discover a side-effect of the main stages closing at 7pm: streets packed with stumbling folk as if closing time has been brought forward four hours. It’s practically one-in, one-out at the boat, the top deck is packed and, naturally, there’s just a single poor soul manning the upstairs bar. Downstairs, the magnificent (and slightly misnomered – they’re assuredly not a metal band) Holy Stain. Granted, they’re a hard-edged young foursome, but in a deep and chest cavity-pummelling kind of way, not trebley-Strat sheer and sharp. The rhythm section groove – bass, especially – is strong, the vocals occasionally set adrift float airily by comparison, and their appeal is mass, even in an instrumental track (partly, perhaps, because it conjures the image of a slathering, slo-mo, big bounding dog). Theirs is a genuinely distinct territory: partly like post-rock, only shorn of the technical posturing and dull/worthy breakdowns; hook-filled enough to recall stadium fillers, but with a much greater-than-the-norm depth:surface ratio. Called back for an encore, they effortlessly switch to multi-vocalled full-frontal assault and knock off a Jesus & Mary Chain cover in Ramones-like manner. Impressive.

Scarlet Rascal & The Trainwreck have pulled a fit-to-bursting downstairs crowd at the Louis and it suits them, replicating as it does the upstairs lofts you’d imagine their New York heroes filling. The swagger’s there as per the norm, but so too a Cave-like aggression, the band at one point breaking into a Birthday Party-recalling bass-heavy oppressive roll. Add intensity to a band with pop nous and charisma to burn and – as we say in this here feature: www.venue.co.uk/music-features/13147-scarlet-fever – we’ve a serious band-break-beyond-Bristol proposition on our hands. It’s impossible to board Thekla now, but no mind – Big Joan are up next at the Louis. There’s a resolute equality between their four parts: the unfailingly body-moving drum pattenrs; deep ringing bass supplying as much lead as it does rhythm, cut across by scything atonal guitar; and Annette’s vocals out front, wrung out as ever with the air of someone unable to conceive of anything more urgent on the planet than delivering the next line, be it barking or demur. (Julian Owen)

Sunday

Queen Sq, Cascade Steps, Thekla

Getting Sunday’s proceedings underway on the Cascade Steps is Danielle, a 16-year-old singer and her guitar. Considering the mid-day billing, the youngster plays to a respectable crowd; a mixed bunch of wide-eyed kids, hungover parents and token family pets. Self-written tracks ‘Unhappy’, ‘Mine’ and ‘Us’, may suggest she’s already in the midst of a mid-life crisis but the singer’s impressive vocal range supports her mature persona. She’s not taking herself too seriously though and enjoys two covers, including Bruno Mars’s ‘Grenade’.

Next up are Parrington Jackson, a Bristolian alt.rock quintet. They’re self-assured and hungry to rock, and they’ve perfected the art of swigging Foster’s in between tracks. Performing acoustically, the band suggests they’ll really hit their stride later today when they play a second, fully electronic set at the Louisiana. With the crowd starting to fill out, the majority of tracks are well-crafted and catchy. New single ‘Primitive’ is a hit in the making.

As the overcast clouds clear and the sun breaks through, a sea of orange invades the stage. Welcome the Gasworks Singers, a150-strong acapella choir. This afternoon, 30 of its members dominate the stage with their versions of gospel and pop hits, including Elton John’s ‘Rocket Man’. With the crowd behind them, the choir complete an encore of Tom Jones’s ‘Delilah’.

The delightful sounds of Rosie Garrard, today billed at 2pm, makes her the most accomplished act of the day so far. With charming and feasibly witty lyrics – cue a two-minute masterpiece about ‘Cocaine Lil’ – it’s easy to invoke immediate comparisons to Kate Nash. Nevertheless, her self-penned work is well-formed and memorable. With a cover of Nick Drake’s ‘Voice from the Mountain’ thrown in for good measure, Rosie’s easy-listening folk tunes please the crowd on the Cascade Steps.

Across the waterfront, the festival’s largest fringe venue, Thekla, is hosting a packed line-up of the city’s finest young talent – from the funk-meets-reggae sounds of Clumsy, to hip-hop from Ruckus Collective. Sadly, the nature of the beast means sacrificing the day’s sunlight and heading down to the darkest depths of the venue. Luckily, there’s air-con. Local heroes The Hit-Ups manage an impressive crowd with their electro-indie beats. The frontman’s natural charisma and strong vocals suggest they could go far.

Meanwhile in Queen Square, people are enjoying an eclectic mix of local, national and international music – highlights include cool soul-jazz courtesy of Pete Josef and the upbeat offerings of William Mbuende/Mankala. There’s beer, there are BBQs and there’s a children’s egg and spoon race. The chilled country-soul sounds of Phantom Limb – headlining act on the Queens Square stage –brings the day to a pleasant close. (Jess Bridgeman)

Sunday

Amphitheatre, The Louisiana, The Grain Barge, SS Great Britain

The delirium of yesterday’s sun has badly affected the population of Bristol. Clouds overcast the streets of the city centre, and the need for shade and alka-seltzers keeps many from the Harbour Festival. Children and their weary parents grapple Sunday morning unwillingly, pottering down the dockside towards M Shed with a decided slouch to their walk. Thankfully, the dependable South Western spirit and good weather soon return, and before long canoes line the harbour and seaside entertainers start to hug the paths.

Though it’s a trek away from the main area of the Harbour Festival, the ss Great Britain attracts the early crowd to its colossal frame. Due on at midday, The Pill Whalers promptly start their chorus of sea shanties as Wallace & Gromit greet the unsuspecting crowd. The scene is sedate, but there’s a jovial sense of community in the air that The Whalers’ traditional songs complement with a nostalgic sheen.

Nearby on The Grain Barge things aren’t going so smoothly. While the bar staff cradle their heads, punters filter in and out and stray pirate flags flutter callously in the wind. The impression is that everyone would rather be a clear mile from the nearest whiff of alcohol. To add salt to the wound, the first band due to play are running late and apparently no substitute has been arranged.

Out in the main hub surrounding the Amphitheatre the inhabitants of Bristol are putting on a brave face. A small audience lies slumped in the deckchairs provided for the Happy City stage, which was reportedly commissioned to promote inspirational art projects around Bristol. Unfortunately Lady K does little to substantiate these claims. Backed by a CD, K sings seemingly off-the-cuff lyrics to sub-standard R&B. It leaves much to be desired, but more importantly her music isn’t representative of Bristol’s music scene and the only affirmation of talent is a tenuous link to Knowle West Media Centre.

The crowd remains on the floor until Troubadour Hook launch their strategic attack – half an hour of rowdy folk music that maximises on the band’s Bristolian roots. The trio bring Harbour Festival’s pirate theme to the forefront, and their music draws comparison to The Decemberists’ ‘Picaresque’. A much needed lift to the Happy City stage, by the close the audience are on their feet in applause.

Around the corner at The Louisiana festival goers remain timid. Downstairs a stage lies empty and a few employees rustle paper behind the bar – enough to make any hungover music fan give up and go home. There’s absolutely no indication that upstairs bands will continue to play until the dead of night. One of those acts is Parrington Jackson, a quintet who purvey progressive indie rock. Harmless though their music may be, they have a live presence to be envied. The crowd they draw is impressive considering the venue’s lack of promotion, and memories of the sunshine outside soon fade. The only dull note is a credit to the band – with decent, homebred and original music so sparse across the larger venues of the festival, why have Parrington Jackson been confined to the smallest stage? (Tiffany Daniels)

Queen Square

Bristol's highly anticipated Harbour Festival kicks off on Friday night with an eclectic fusion of jazz, reggae, bhangra and good old pop beats. Wandering down to the transformed Queen Square, the crowd is as diverse as the music presented by the curators from Colston Hall. The post-work weary mingle with those who appear to have treated themselves to cider a bit earlier in the day; excitable kids with bright-pink ear defenders happily weave between groups of ladies kicking off their night with a mojito from the bar. As the crowd ease themselves into the weekend, the first music to travel across the audience comes in the form of the soothing tones of local soul songstress Lady Nade.

With a sound system that would have been better suited to a Saturday afternoon pub courtyard, and a venue layout that doesn't lend itself to the best natural acoustics, Lady Nade's set takes on more of a scene-setting atmosphere than an attention-grabbing performance. But it’s perfectly in tune with the crowd, which seems more interested in taking in the scenery than being commanded to pay attention to a stage.

While Lady Nade seems happy to allow her relaxed but accomplished vocals to take more of a backseat to proceedings, Laid Blak feverishly try to work the crowd. They succeed in getting a steady core at the front of the stage moving, but their implorations to get people on their feet and making some noise fall largely on deaf ears. While their energy’s commendable, even their best efforts can’t inject it into the square. Incorporating their reggae-ska cum hip-hop sound with cult classics such as 'Golden Brown' by The Stranglers seems to prick the ears of the wider audience, before the business of getting on with the night's festivities – aside from the music – takes precedence once again.

The mood takes a revolutionary turn with the arrival of Bristol's roots-reggae legends Talisman, who usher in a technically proficient and musically skilled performance. However, the songs, despite their themes of social activism and rousing rhetoric, seem to lack the passion of the words. The music once again becomes a backdrop for the evening, the precision delivery making it feel more like a CD put on towards the end of an after-party, rather than the ramping up of one of Bristol's biggest summer festivals.

Taking a break from the bands, the market stalls surrounding the square offer everything from kangaroo burgers and tartiflette, to connoisseur balsamic vinegars and giant candy sweets. As the sun dips and the crowd thickens out, a more party atmosphere infiltrates the previously reluctant observers – helped in no small part by the infectious bhangra tones of Alaap.

Striding on to the stage in a fetching red-sequinned dinner jacket, Alaap combines the spirit of Tom Jones with Punjab-inspired pop – with surprisingly effective results. As the music surreptitiously gets people on their feet to look towards the stage, an epicentre of movement from the core mass of bodies in front of the singer ripples out. Alaap's calls are met with far more enthusiastic responses than Laid Blak's hearty attempts, while a choreographed dance routine provides even more entertainment for those watching than the ones trying to do it. Yes, it’s cheesy and not nearly as polished as the performances from Lady Nade and Talisman – but Alaap certainly makes it feel like the start of a party.

The evening’s rounded off by a somewhat underwhelming performance by the "legendary" DJ Derek, when the music once again turns into the perfect sounds to mingle to. Crowning the night with a play of Bob Marley's 'One Love', the spinner isn't exactly memorable, but certainly finishes by capturing the mood of the crowd, who are now limbered-up, weekend-ready and raring to take the rest of Harbour Festival on. (Naomi Rainey)

Harbourside Alfresco

The weather’s fine, the boats have arrived and it’s time for Bristol’s 40th Harbour Festival. This year sees a new addition but also the loss of the popular fireworks display. The newcomer, Harbourisde Alfresco, includes live acts across the waterfront as well as strolling entertainment in the markets at Queen and Waterfront Squares.

The harbour inlet is home to 13 steamboats and lifeboats from around the country. Lizzzeee, a 26ft steamboat, has been brought to the festival by owner Trevor Jenkins from Ashford and boasts a coal fire burner and a Stuart Turner 6A steam engine. All the steamboats travel round the country throughout the year as part of The Steamboat Alliance – a steam punk enthusiast’s dream. One of the lifeboats, a Barmouth boat called Chieftain, lives in Bristol Harbour all year round and is a beautiful piece of carefully preserved maritime history: she served from 1949-1982 and saved 132 lives. Here, you can get up close and admire the craftsmanship of these dainty steamers and lifeboats and ask about their intriguing pasts.

Further down the harbour, the Amphitheatre’s Happy City Stage is home to groups of people enjoying lots of sunshine, food and drink, with live acts from the Baker Boys to Vamos providing the musical backdrop. Spoon carving’s proving popular, with people paying £2 for a lump of wood and the chance to sit whittling with an extremely sharp knife. The friendly men from Arb Tek Wood Products are on hand to offer help and advice to the would-be woodsmen. Opposite, children and adults make puppets out of cardboard and old magazines and put on a show with their creations.

Behind the Amphitheatre, Waterfront Square hosts the smaller of the festival’s two markets, which sells plants, temporary tattoos, pirate regalia, hats and clothes. The stalls don’t vary much each year – which is a shame as there are only so many temporary tattoos you can have done – but it’s always worth checking for newcomers. Susan Taylor’s brightly coloured stall features prints, tea towels and cards with unique designs for this year’s festival.

Millennium Square, meanwhile, has the BBC Big Screens showing entries to a competition which invited film-makers to create a 2½ minute film about Bristol inspired by the new M Shed museum. The films were all made in 117 hours, in honour of Bristol’s 0117 area code, and the screening provides a great opportunity to see the city though the eyes of others.

Like the Waterfront Square market, the Continental Market is crowded but if you have the time to take it slowly it’s a very relaxing way to spend an hour or two. The chocolate stall offers a variety of mouth-watering goodies; the Jagermeister and dark chocolate slab’s especially good.

The gentle pedestrian pull continues past the Llandoger Trow and into Castle Park, where Cirque Bijou close their Sunday performance and mark the end of the festival with a pirate show. With a tropical island, cannon and stage made to look like a pirate ship, the show kicks off with a mass water balloon toss, which gets the audience involved and on their feet. Tossers young and old face off across Castle Park as Blackbeard and the Admiral throw in as many innuendos as possible. After that, the pirates and the Admiral’s men stage a bizarrely scripted but entertaining show including knife juggling, acrobatics, pole dancing (child-friendly, of course) and trapeze acts. Although the sword fights are incredibly long and a little shaky, the show’s the perfect close to an entertaining and sunny weekend. The closing scene with the Admiral in his mermaid costume (complete with gravity-defying fake breasts) is one that no member of the audience will be forgetting in a hurry. (Hannah Chapman)

Dance/Theatre

It’s early Saturday morning (well, 11.45) and the dance village is attracting some casual observers. On the main performance stage, Kompany Malahki perform ‘Rotations’, a dance act revolving around BMXs, balance, breakdance, and acrobatics. The tricks are skilled but slow, and the act suits the chilled-out, mildly interested attitude of the audience.

The crowd moves to the side stage to see the aerial performance of Candoco & Scarabeus (a Candoco Dance Company and Scarabeus Aerial Theatre collaboration). The two dancers leap and soar on black and red silk extended from the roof of the structure, theatrically enacting the story of the Minotaur and Icarus.

Then it’s back to the main arena for Tolo Ko Tolo, a Bristol-based company. The smiling dancers take to the stage, and their musicians wholeheartedly back them up with guitars and bells. Their dancing isn’t particularly complicated, but it’s joyful. They’re followed by the Movement Collective, another Bristol-based company. Their piece is contemporary, influenced by ballet. The dancers appear as if they’re dolls coming to life, with interesting asymmetrical formations and precise movements: the only male dancer, Murilo Leite D’Imperio, is the most talented and expressive.

Taraziva then perform a dance choreographed by their Zimbabwean director, Bawren Taraziva. The dancers lift one another and interact in a fashion reminiscent of physical theatre. Their movements are contemporary, and they tread an original middle ground between ballet and body pop. The dance goes on too long, though, and would have more impact if shorter.

The Swindon Youth Dance Company take to the stage. They dance to an instrumental version of Eminem’s ‘Lose Yourself’, involving contemporary dance and ballet, with leaps and dramatic swoops. The music gets louder and returns to Eminem’s original rap version, before fading out in a nonentity of a climax. The standard of dance is high, but the Eminem soundtrack too predictable. There’s a good reception for ATMA, a contemporary dance group inspired by classical bharata natyam movement and form. With their slow, intricate movements, the dancers are clearly talented, but the choreography’s unadventurous and, disappointingly, they remain on the same spot for much of the performance.

Across the square, Deaf Men Dancing play different caricatures – Drunk, Angry etc –  but it’s sometimes unclear which caricature each is playing. They interact well with the audience, squirting water from pocket-flowers and playing other tricks. As they dance, one paints the others in vivid colours. It’s thoroughly enjoyable, if confusing at times.

After that, it’s time to go to Mud Dock to see ‘The Iron Man’, adapted from the fable by Ted Hughes for Graeae and performed by a deaf and disabled ensemble. At the start of this family-friendly performance, the cast teach the audience how to say key words in sign language, leading to an uproarious competition between either side of the crowd. Taking turns to play different roles, they then piece together the story: an iron man arrives in a small village and is hated and feared by everyone, apart from one small boy, but when an evil dragon threatens the earth, it’s the iron man who comes to the rescue. The props are fantastic: the iron man assembled from jumbled-together pieces of metal and standing around 15 feet high and the dragon represented by a giant head made of black and green netting. While the caricature style of acting means the self-righteous villagers are portrayed to great comic effect, it also means the touching relationship between the iron man and the boy isn’t fully explored. All in all, though, it’s a playful and humorous piece, with enough drama to excite a teething toddler.

Over in the Dance Village, the final act of the day is Funk the Quay. Highlights include international company Breaking Nest, who perform incredible back flips and spin on their heads, breakdancing style, while Little Hype body pop, hip-hop and breakdance like the best of them: dressed in red and white with tribal face paint, these 4- to 11-year-olds are seriously fierce.

At Arnolfini, there’s Geraldine Pilgrim’s Handbag, a piece centring on women and their various abilities to dance around their handbags. Treading a line between a life-affirming ‘girls just wanna have fun’ attitude and a sleazy sense of degradation and cultural mass production, who knows what the piece is meant to symbolise – but for 15 minutes it’s entertaining enough.

Come Sunday at the Participation Stage, it’s time for the swing dance slot. Around 20 people take part on stage as an instructor teaches participants a whole routine: perhaps if they’d concentrated on fewer steps, more people would have joined. Over on the Social Stage, there’s high-energy Zuma dancing – but keeping up with the beat is the difficult bit here.

Back on the main performance stage, Bad Taste Cru play passers-by on the street – a tramp, a business man and a chav – drawing closer to each other, provoking each other and reaching out to each other. As they interact, they breakdance and perform acrobatic tricks, their acting powerfully complementing the dancing to create a sense of time, place and the human desire for company. The Floor Technicians prove surprisingly popular, but that’s more to do with their charisma than their dancing – an unexciting routine but performed with gusto and some reasonably impressive street jazz. ACE Youth from Birmingham, meanwhile, dance without music for a few minutes but the audience seems unimpressed by the innovation, and while the standard of contemporary dance is high, the war theme’s unoriginal.

The standard picks up with Jean Abreu and the company’s signature style: physical dance verging on physical theatre. The dancers act out the degradation of life in prison via movement and tortured facial expressions. Hailing from north London, Cerebro prove to be one of the most popular acts, confirming the vogue for hip-hop. At first glance, they look like Boyzone, but they dance impressively to urban hip-hop, performing acrobatics, bodypopping and locking. Their real charm, though, lies in not taking themselves too seriously, winking and grinning as they wriggle their torsos and clutch their crotches in a playful parody of a boy band. There’s more hip-hop from Dark Angels, whose moves are slick and in perfect harmony – although it’s a shame they mime shooting at each other: hip-hop needs to move on from that clichéd image.

In CUBAnia, dancers mover to a funky Cuban beat in an unadventurous routine: three men dance in dark glasses until – lo and behold – they’re joined by women in leopard-print lycra and red lipstick, who caress them before taking over the stage and dancing monotonously. It’s the wrong side of sexy.

Back at Arnolfini, the Dog Kennel Hill Project puts on ‘The Devil and the Details’, followed by ‘Hinterview’. ‘Devil’ is a surrealist piece, based around an obsessive director, a dancer who’s not allowed to dance, a beatboxer and Scotland. Its repetitions and absurdity are funny (if slightly boring) and, in the end, the director plays a witty trick. In Hinterview, the audience follows two actors between the dark and light studios. Again, there is much repetition, absurdity and dashes of obsession. The piece is meant to explore the values of work, and includes a series of interviews. The actress runs back and forth, talks gibberish and enacts our desires through dance. Once she starts to speak in complete sentences, her meaning is no longer mysterious – and it’s a disappointment. When she harvests her subliminal messages, she tells us that some enjoy pain and suffering because it makes us feel alive and some just like fun. Thanks for the emo clichés. This kind of surrealism only works when it portrays unconventional ways of thinking.

And so to the Invisible Circus and ‘The Rogue’s Salute’. Inside its arena, the audience wanders among harbourside houses bleached by the sun and the bitterness of sea salt, listens to music performed by urchins, propositions a sailor, shares secrets with mermaids and shies away from drunken pirates. From the spangled net, lace and plunging bodices of the mermaids to the crumpled navy suits of the kiss-stained sailors, the costumes and scene-setting are extraordinary in their detail. Inside a circus tent, the audience then gathers around a wooden boat, whose ‘crew’ perform savage circus tricks and whose captain draws the audience into his narrative of sailors leaving Bristol for the dark blue ocean. The ship’s drunken doctor walks along a makeshift tightrope; a siren shimmies up the mast; a castaway (“most likes from Bedminster by the looks of him”) juggles; and everyone’s drawn into a sea shanty. Meanwhile, the band welcomes the pirates onto their Caribbean island, and a certain lady brings bad luck. Sure, there are mistakes in the tricks, and the circus acts are not groundbreaking, but the dancing, cat-calling and drunken performances of the crew, along with the authentic setting, greatly accentuate the performance. (Anna Behrmann)

Copyright Julian Owen, Jess Bridgeman, Hannah Chapman, Anna Behrmann, Tiffany Daniels, Naomi Rainey 2011

For more pictures see: www.venue.co.uk/photos/13292-harbourfestival-2011