Day 16: Newport, RI
Welcome
Yesterday we performed at the Newport Folk Festival.
Our day began with a 9am lobby call, loading our equipment into a festival transfer vehicle which this time was a white Ford Transit van. The driver took us down through Newport, heading for the western part of the island where there is a headland that juts out into the mouth of Narragansett Bay. Fort Adams sits on the end of this useful geographic feature, a defensive fortification that dates to the mid 19th century, when it would have prevented hostile warships from entering the bay.
The courtyard of this fort is home to both the Newport Jazz and Newport Folk festivals, which take place over adjacent weekends in the middle of the summer. People were arriving by car, boat, and bicycle to this three-day event, and by and large seemed to be equipped to relax into the day with lawn chairs, and sun shades in evidence. Upon our arrival we were met by a confident logistics organiser who directed a swarm of volunteer loaders to help us with our equipment. Upwards of ten pairs of hands fell upon our bags and cases and in seconds everything was in the back of a trailer ready to be towed to the stage.
We walked through the main gate, passing through the thick stone wall and emerging into the grass courtyard where a large white marquee stood proudly in the centre of this former parade ground. Another swarm of loaders met us next to the tent and carried everything into the backstage area, and then shuffled off as a group, looking for their next assignment. The festival back-end was running smoothly and even though we had a quick changeover to execute we were well assisted by a competent technical team, and there was plenty of space to get everything setup and ready to go.
Amps and microphones were set up, drums were tuned and tweaked, and Bird was laid out on one of the wheeled risers, to be rolled into place. There was time to spare so I went for a walk to find breakfast, ending up at a Mexican food truck that prepared me a plate of lobster nachos, with pico de gallo, salsa verde, queso fresco, and chipotle mayo.
The view from our green room, looking north up the Narragansett Bay
Opening the festival were Free Range, an indie-folk band from Chicago who played beautifully, delivering some wonderfully slow tempos and delicate playing. We were second, beginning at 12.15pm after a tight but successful 25-minute changeover. By this point in the day it had heated up significantly and although the marquee kept us out of the sun it was hot and humid up on stage. In front of us lay the audience, divided into three distinct groups: The seated crowd were on neat rows of white fold-up chairs in the centre which I assume you must need to arrive pretty early in the day to claim. The standers were an incredibly disciplined bunch who stood along the left edge of the tent, maintaining a perfectly straight border so that there was a broad aisle to access the seating block. The picnickers were sprawled out along the right-hand edge, and they were equipped with cushions and other comfort-providing devices, ready to enjoy the afternoon at their own pace.
Our set was going very well until Liz overheated and came close to passing out midway through our fastest song. She did an incredible job to remain upright and made it off stage where festival organisers rushed in with ice packs and cold water. After taking five minutes to cool down and get her breath back Liz was keen to finish the set, so we returned to the stage, enjoying a warm applause from the waiting crowd. An electric fan was deployed to keep her at a safe temperature, and we picked up where we had stopped, playing the remainder of the set, thankfully without any further trouble. Afterwards there were paramedics waiting behind the stage and Liz was taken off to the first aid tent and hooked up to lots of medical wires for a thorough examination. They couldn’t find anything wrong, so heat exhaustion remained the probable cause, and Liz was free to go and find a much-needed bite to eat.
The remainder of our stay at Newport Folk was spent keeping a series of appointments with photographers; the mysterious task of taking festival portraits. Who are they for? Where do they end up? No one knows. We had about five of these short sessions, all in different locations around the fort, and then we were done, knocking off at the very reasonable hour of 4pm.
A radio call was made and a dozen loaders once more swarmed across our equipment and when we found it next it was outside the festival and in the back of a waiting van, which we then boarded for the drive to our hotel. We had switched to an airport hotel to make our early morning flight a bit easier, and as well as the obvious location benefits it meant that we got to drive across the Claiborne Pell Bridge, a 3.4km suspension bridge that connects Rhode Island and Jamestown. The roadway reaches 66 metres above the water and affords stunning views up Narragansett Bay, and back down to Fort Adams where the festival was still in full swing.
The Claiborne Pell Bridge, also known as the Newport Bridge, built between 1966-69.
The Plum Beach Lighthouse, built in 1899 and deactivated in 1941.
The goal for the evening was an early night so after checking in we went out for an early dinner, heading straight back to the hotel after only a brief stop at the irresistible funhouse ice-cream shop that we accidentally happened upon.
This week in art corner we visit a piece in the restaurant of our airport hotel. A wrought iron gate almost fits into this extremely narrow field of view, and in the background a mansion is visible, but is clearly inaccessible because of the strong and intricate gate.
Artist: Unknown
Medium: Ultra-widescreen portrait photograph in painted wooden frame
Finally, a video from Tristan Deck detailing some of our experiences at Newport Folk Festival.