So long, farewell...

The time has come to put this blog to bed.

I can hear the sound of wailing and gnashing of teeth all over the globe as my faithful fans (all two of you) lament its passing. It's been fun, but sadly it has rather slipped down my list of priorities recently and rather than dabble in it half-heatedly, I would rather bring the curtain down here and now. I won't delete it, so it will sit here encased in virtual aspic just in case anyone finds the meanderings of Weekender during 2011/12 of any interest whatsoever in the future...

'Frome With A View' started off as a challenge from a work colleague whose own blog has proved to be something of a success  (check it out at http://findyourdreamjob.wordpress.com/). And it's been most instructive to dip my toes into the weird and wonderful world of blogging.  By far the most gratifying aspect of the exercise has been when the occasional mini-debate about Life In Frome has taken off. So many, many thanks to you, if you have contributed.

But all good things etc, so I leave you with this. Some recent praise for Frome from TV presenter Dan Cruickshank. I think he sums up the place pretty well (though there aren't any Georgian mansions in Stony Street (neither is there an "e" in Stony); Gentle St has the mansions yes, but not Stony...):

http://www.guardian.co.uk/travel/2012/aug/17/dan-cruikshank-best-british-historic-towns?INTCMP=SRCH

So, 'til we meet again - in the virtual or the real world.

All best wishes,

Weekender.

PS Without realising it when I made the decision to stop, this turns out to be my 50th post. So that makes a rather neat ending, don't you think?

Drink Up Thee Cider

In our continuing efforts to immerse ourselves in the county’s culture, we sallied forth westwards, Alan Stone’s “Somerset Cider Handbook” in hand. Like some of the product itself, the image of cider has been a bit rough over the years. A yokel dozing in a hayrick, half-emptied flagon of “scrumpy” by his side… that sort of thing. But I’m delighted to say that the West Country’s answer to wine is undergoing something of a renaissance and, in addition to the Big Boys churning the stuff out by the tankerful, there are a number of small-scale makers akin to the micro-breweries of the beer business.

So much better than its name suggests...

This revival hasn’t necessarily led to universally available top quality stuff – there is still cider out there that is so sweet it will rot your teeth and some so acidic it will rip the enamel off any teeth you may have left… But thanks to Lilley’s Cider Barn in Frome I’ve been sampling a variety of the local product and have found one that really hits the spot. Sadly it has a ridiculous name, but you can’t judge a book by its cover, so Janet’s Jungle Juice from West Croft Farm near Highbridge gets my vote. It's fruity and dry, refreshing and satisfying –  that seems to me to be the perfect combination.

So we went to meet John Harris, the producer of aforementioned Juice, and taste some at source. John is a quiet, friendly man who led us into his barn and gave us tasters of both the latest JJJ and his West Croft Dry (also recommended). He told us that (unlike some producers) he adds no sweeteners to his cider, nor does he blend them after pressing – the blending is all done in the selection of the apples. He also, encouragingly, is cutting down on the use of sulphites, the whiff of which is often the first olfactory encounter one has with a cider.

We shall definitely return to John’s farm at the bottom of Brent Knoll, but we will not rush back to Rich’s. I’d enjoyed a glass of their output at The Cornerhouse in Frome, so thought it was also worth a visit as it’s not too far from West Croft. But it’s a million miles away in terms of “the experience”. This is the cider farm as coach party destination: large car park, restaurant and a shop full of touristy knick-knacks. No tastings were on offer and the single member of staff we encountered was not particularly helpful – despite their ciders being split into “Scrumpy” (ie on draught, still and, assumedly, unpasteurised) and “Farmhouse” (pre-bottled, slightly sparkling and pasteurised), the assistant labelled them the same. Their dry scrumpy is pleasant enough, but not a patch on what John Harris is managing to produce on what I am sure is a fraction of Rich’s turnover. When it comes to cider making, small would appear to be beautiful.

PS It's a pleasure to be able to report that Frome With A View has just played host to its 1000th viewer. Now, apart from the occasional poster (whose comments are always much appreciated) I do, of course, have absolutely no idea who all these people are. I'm sure most of them have only ended up on this page because "Frome" is Lithuanian for "Porn" or some such. But, whoever and wherever you are, you are very, very welcome. Do leave a comment. If only to say how disappointed you are by the absence of naked women (or men)...

Super Markets v Supermarkets

Today saw the second so-called Frome Super Market - an experiment designed to turn the monthly Summer Flea/Artisan market into a "destination event". In addition to the usual Sunday suspects, there were familiar faces from the Wednesday/Saturday general markets plus many newcomers. The centre of town was closed to traffic and stalls stretched from the Market Yard car park through the Westway Centre into the Market Place and up Catherine Hill. The result was an attractive mix of the useful (food, drink, kitchenware, tools etc) and the decorative (jewellery, ceramics and that must-have in every trendy Frome home, dreamcatchers). The place was heaving - the open-air cafe almost managed to make the usually soulless Westway continentally chic and the foody section - coffees, teas, cheeses, hot meals etc - in Scott Road was a neat idea.

Catherine Hill Crammed

However, as the whole enterprise is clearly the antidote to Asda and Sainsbury's, it does seem slightly odd to ape them and adopt the title Super Market. It will only take a small typo and the play on words will be completely  lost. But as a couple more shops close on Catherine Hill (Crow -  a warren of antiques and second hand stuff - will be particularly missed), anything that boosts the retail health of Frome is good news. And as someone who had to drive all round the houses to get to Shepton in the afternoon, any inconvenience caused by the road closures is clearly outweighed by the wider economic advantages. Long may the Super, er, Mega, er, Big Market flourish.

Festival Fever?

So the Frome Festival is just under a week away, and I have to say I'm getting quite excited in an understated, English sort of way...

Mrs W and I have tickets to a variety of events from Ian MacMillan to the Fashion Show, from the North Sea Radio Orchestra to the Alternative Guide to Frome. One of my recollections of spending the first weekend of the event in the town last year was that there was very little evidence of the Festival actually going on, if you just happened to be passing through. Where were the banners, the flags, the bunting, the outward signs of inner celebration?  Even the local drama and operatic societies manage to string a banner across Stony Street or Cheap Street to promote their productions.

Rue du Roi - pas en fête

I know all this costs and times are currently hard, but hopefully when we roll up on Friday it will be plain to resident and visitor alike that Frome is truly 'en fête'. And, who knows, a few passing punters - otherwise unaware of the riches on offer  - might then be tempted to investigate further...


www.fromefestival.co.uk

Tree Cheers for the Council!

The centre of Frome is a most attractive place with its ancient streets and buildings, except for the unsympathetic Westway Centre and the surrounding tarmac desert of car parks. But the Town Council wants to "soften" the Market Yard parking area with tree planting. This is the first glimpse of the town for many visitors - either leaving their cars there to venture further afield or to attend an event at the Cheese & Grain next door. And it hardly says "Welcome to our unique and historic borough".

The Market Yard from across the river on a 'Frome Flea' day

I say "bravo" and while others may splutter "waste of money", this is actually dosh from the budget that is earmarked for just this sort of thing. And there are times when our surroundings need a helping hand from our political masters. 'Green' volunteers - such as the Friends of the River Frome - can't be relied upon to do it all. 

Now it's just down to Mendip District Council (the owners of the car parks) to rubber stamp the idea. Come on, Mendip, don't be planting poopers...

www.frome-tc.gov.uk

On the air, in the air, everywhere (on and off)...

This has been a big weekend for Frome. Last night the community radio station officially took to the airwaves on 96.6 (despite its name, Frome-FM had only broadcast on the internet up until now). The launch took place at the Assembly Rooms and the Fromarati was out in force. Following a witty "fasten your seat belts" montage from manager Phil Moakes, the first prog proper was a chat show hosted by Sam Phripp and featuring local celebs Luke Leighfield, Mark & Caroline McGann, Cara Dillon and Sam Lakeman, with music from The Bad Detectives. Unsurprisingly the questions were hardly stiletto-like, but the likeable Phripp did a pretty good job. And while he floundered a bit towards the end and the show outstayed its welcome by about 10 minutes, the first 50 were highly entertaining.

So we all wandered off into the Fromian twilight with high hopes for the future of our local station, now all grown up and able to go out on its own on car radios, transistors and radiograms across East Somerset and West Wiltshire. Unfortunately, the best laid plans...

Day One has been a bit of a disaster. Long periods of 'dead air', programmes being abruptly terminated, sponsors messages fading out midstream and so on. One of the flagship launch shows, an ambitious production of Shakespeare's 'The Rape Of Lucrece' with Frome Drama Club, fell foul of the automated play-out system and we were denied Lucrece's tragic end by the technology.

FF-M is a great asset to the town. Run entirely by volunteers, much of its programming is very good indeed and the new frequency will enable it to reach more listeners than ever before. But in these days of multiple media choices, people are notoriously impatient and will quickly re-tune if the output is not up to scratch. Hopefully the glitches of today are merely teething problems and will quickly be cured by the radio equivalent of a dose of clove oil.

www.fromefm.co.uk

Frome Festival - arts for all?

Frome Festival starts in just over a month's time. The brochure is available and the famous Tunnel Tours sold out within minutes of tickets going on sale. It's a great asset to the town, but it's under threat. The organisers have warned that unless income increases, this could be the last one. That would be a tragedy for a community with such a lively cultural scene.

The Duke of Monmouth ponders on whether being
the pin-up boy of the Frome Fest is as good as being King...

The festival embraces music (of all genres), theatre, the visual arts and literature, plus walks, talks, workshops and open gardens. The programming is varied and imaginative - but mostly within what you might call a middle-class, middlebrow artistic policy. Why not take some open-air performances to the housing estates on the edge of town, rather than restrict shows to the usual central venues? Street theatre won't make pots of money, far from it. But it might well produce oodles of goodwill. And at times like this, PR can be as important as cash in hand.

www.fromefestival.co.uk

Walk a mile in my shoes...

Walking can be a frustrating hobby, but then there are cloud/silver lining moments that make it all worth while...

The Best Laid Plans of the Weekenders today led to us to Beckington, a pretty stone village just to the north of Frome. A copy of 'Where Somerset Meets Wiltshire' in hand, our guide (usually reliable and informative) sent us across a stile that was no more, into a strip of field (barely trodden) to a barbed wire fence lacking in any exit. The cricketers on the adjoining pitch looked on nonplussed, as if they'd seen it all before.

Iford Eyeful

We've hit too many rambling dead ends in our time to do anything other than abandon a false lead, so a quick peruse sent us to another of WSMW's suggestions. And what a joy... Avoncliff is one of those places where the Kennet & Avon Canal crosses the River Avon by aqueduct. The railway line is squeezed into the only other bit of land that isn't either river-wide or gorge-steep. The walk was varied and delightful. Reminiscent of the Wye Valley in parts, and still filled with the scent (of the now past-its-best) wild garlic, it follows the Avon and then the Frome via Freshford and Harold Peto's Iford Manor, before a steep climb up to Westwood and a final descent back to Avoncliff.

Arriving at Iford just too late for a cup of their famous tea, we nonetheless had a chat with the housekeeper who was about to lock up. She gave us a brief history of the place and revealed herself to be an example of history's cyclical nature - she had ended up on the same estate as her one-time mill-worker antecedents.

Westwood is hosting a Scarecrow Festival. Slightly naff? You might think so, but the topical theme of Kings & Queens had inspired the locals to come up with some wonderfully witty creations such as King Kong and Burger King (!), as well as the somewhat more inevitable fairy tales. Clever, the good folk of Westwood.

Westwood Royalty

This unexpected excursion was rounded off with a large glass of house white and a half of Box Steam's Funnel Blower at the Cross Guns' beer garden, right on the riverside. We watched the trout, almost suspended in the shallows, while musing on serendipity. It all worked all right in the end.

www.ifordmanor.co.uk
www.crossguns.net

The Village Gets A By-Pass

To the Cheese & Grain last night for The Imagined Village.

Organisational whinge out of the way first. Cabaret-style seating (nice) around the edge of the hall, standing room in the centre (daft). Sightlines - terrible. At the Folk Festival, the seating was at the front, standing room at the back. Sightlines - good. Is it that difficult to get right?

Anyway, onto the music. The IV is a multi-cultural, folk fusion supergroup (!). They first brought English folk music kicking and screaming into the 21st Century a few years back by adding electronica, dance beats and ethnic elements to traditional songs. Sometimes it worked brilliantly, sometimes it was embarrassing, but it was always bold and never less than interesting. On the evidence of last night's show though, they are moving away from this into predominantly original compositions that hint at the tradition, but never quite set the goosebumps, er, a-bumping.

The evening took off in fits and starts - whenever Johnny Kalsi was released from behind his array of percussion to take centre stage with the dhol, the temperature in the hall rose appreciably. And when Martin Carthy took the vocals in Billy Bragg re-jig of Hard Times of Old England, the original, imaginative purpose of the band shone through. Carthy fille, Eliza, was full of vim and vigour, bouncing around the stage like Tigger-meets-a-rock-chick. Sometimes when a musician is demonstrably enjoying him or herself, this can actually alienate an audience - the party's going on up there and we're not invited. But Eliza's enthusiasm was endearing and infectious.

Eliza Carthy in a rare moment of a calm at the C & G

There was one truly bizarre moment. Carthy Senior sang Slade's "Cum On Feel The Noize" in a dirge-like arrangement. What was the point of performing this as if it was some gloomy 18th Century murder ballad? Was it an example of the Louis Armstrong Philosophy? (He once said ALL music is folk music). Frankly, it was just odd.

So an uneven evening with the Villagers. Where will they go next - back to their roots or further into folk-pop territory? I fear for the latter.


www.imaginedvillage.com

Horses for Courses

Oh no! Someone's only gone and booked another concert into the Westway (Kirsty Almeida on the 24th). After our experience at the Folk Festival, I suggest you get there very early and nab a place near the front or else you'll only see the top of her head. It's a cinema, not a concert hall, and the rake of the seating reflects this...

Very much looking forward to The Imagined Village at the C&G this Friday night though...

http://realworldrecords.com/videos/the-imagined-village-trailer

An Embarrassment of Riches

Fromians and regular readers of this blog will be well aware of the town's remarkable cultural life. But sometimes you can have too much of a good thing. Last night, for example, there was Savoy Brown at the Cheese & Grain, Frome Choral Society at the Wesleyan Church, comedy with Nick Revell (amongst others) at The Cornerhouse and (I quote) "Suzy Quatro's Sax Player" at The Archangel. And there may have been more going on that I'm unaware of.

Hats off to events co-ordination!
(Frome Folk Fest 2012 at the Cheese & Grain)

Are all these events competing for the same audience? Would each have benefitted from being on a different night? There are some Saturdays when very little is on offer, so wouldn't some sort of entertainment co-ordinator be a good idea in order to avoid this kind of overload? There was talk of the C & G taking on the role of central box office for the town's venues - maybe they could keep a "clash diary" too?


PS Thank you for your comment below, "Dream Job". (Blogger is misbehaving and won't let me reply directly). I take your point, but I have incontrovertible evidence, m'lud. May I refer you to OS Explorer Map 142...?

A Sign of the Times?

During World War II, signposts were removed in what would surely have been a vain attempt to confuse any invading Germans (didn't the Third Reich have maps?). But at one time or another, we must all have suffered from missing signs or deliberately altered ones while on foreign territory - be that Swindon or Swaziland.

There's a sign on Frome Bridge which I pass regularly. It directs cyclists onto National Cycle Network route 24 and pedestrians to the railway station (it's a handy short cut if you're catching a train - 90% pedestrianised, avoiding the town centre and a steep hill). It is fixed to a post and is constantly being turned round, thus sending any visitor who doesn't know the town in the wrong direction. What a laugh, eh? All those people who visit Frome, spending money in the shops and restaurants, being sent God knows where. And you know what, depending on how much this wild goose chase spoils their day out, they might not come back. How hilarious is that?

I don't have a photo of the sign, but here's one of the bridge
(courtesy of Ross Websdale on Flickr).

I've tried to get into the mindset of those who tweak signs. Are they so disengaged from society (big or small) that to send someone up the wrong path is their perverse way of "making a difference"? While the more public spirited amongst us would get satisfaction from pointing a stranger in the right direction, these individuals get their kicks from the opposite?

Whatever their motivation, I shall continue to turn the sign back whenever it has been molested. And I urge you to do the same with any in your neck of the woods. A passing German might just thank you for it.

On The Level(s)

First of all, many thanks to Anonymous for his/her entertaining and informative comments.
Interesting your thoughts on Wiltshire being posh. Have you ever been to Swindon?

Good Friday was spent on the Somerset Levels around Langport/Muchelney, an area we've always wanted to explore. My image of the fenland prior to this visit was dominated by Don McCullin's photographs - monochrome, wintry, wet, bleak, big skies etc etc. On Friday, the fields were green, the skies big, yes, but blue and sunny, and (thanks to the recent lack of rain) the earth was dry and cracked - more Sahara than Somerset. It was still wonderful, the walking was easy, Muchelney and Langport were each fascinating in their own way (especially Mulcheney's infamous brazen angels), but it was all a bit more neat and tidy than I'd expected.

One of the "uninhibited" angels on the ceiling of Muchelney Church
 (not at all McCullinesque )

It's interesting how one's preconceptions of a place are either reinforced or undermined by the actual experience of being there. Is our response ever exactly what we expected? Are we always to some degree surprised - either in a positive or negative way? Do those preconceptions get in the way of a genuine reaction to somewhere? Research and learning are marvellous things, and technology has made them easier to acquire than ever. But sometimes I wonder if Ignorance really is Bliss.

http://www.aperture.org/exposures/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/008_mccullin.jpg/bmi_orig_img/008_mccullin.jpg

Borderlands

What does a county mean to its residents? Here in Frome we are virtually on the border between Somerset and Wiltshire. Not far to the south west is Dorset, a few minutes north the less-than-poetic acronym that is BANES (Bath and North East Somerset). Although we are in Somerset, our DAB radio thinks BBC Wiltshire is our local station. To listen to BBC Somerset we have to go analogue. And we tuned into the Beeb’s local offering this morning -  an outside broadcast from Watchet; a coastal town at the far end of the county from here that has little in common with Frome except the last line of its postal address. It set me thinking about county identity – is there such a thing for most of us? (We’ll leave Yorkshire out of the equation).

Reflections on identity? Nunney Castle (which is in Somerset)

Our immediate neighbours here at Weekender Towers work in BANES, Wiltshire and Somerset. Frome people don’t think twice about shopping in or using the better train service from Warminster and are highly exercised about the recent controversial changes to access at the Longleat Estate (both in Wiltshire).

I was born in Essex and identify more with the town of my birth than the land of TOWIE. Cricket fans may feel attached to their county teams and we all have a financial stake in the administrative body via our council taxes. Maybe if you live in the geographical heart of a county, working and playing within its boundaries, it means much more. Parents with children will think carefully about which local authority runs which schools and that may well colour attitudes to the lines on the map. But generally speaking, if you’re in border country, does it really make any difference to day-to-day living and state of mind? Does anyone on this side of the divide say, “I’m not going to the new Waitrose in Warminster because it’s in Wiltshire”? I doubt it very much.

The Mystery of the Stones

Every time we drive to and from our adopted home, we pass Stonehenge.  Whatever the time of day, week or year, there is a constant stream of pilgrims circling the stones, paying homage. For us it has a particular, if somewhat trivial, meaning - it signifies that we are well over half-way to Frome, and the change in landscape as we climb up from Amesbury lifts the soul. But why do people travel from all over the country (and all over the world) to see a a collection of rocks in a Wiltshire field? Is it simply their age - the fact that they are still here at all? Is it the myths and legends that are attached to the place? Or is it because it's a World Heritage Site and must simply be ticked off from the list of X Hundred Things To Do Before You Die?

A heap of stones in Wiltshire

In the 1990s, you might recall there was a quite a craze for "spiritual" music - Gorecki, Tavener et al. Aided and abetted by some canny marketing, people who wouldn't usually touch contemporary classical music with their neighbour's bargepoles, snapped up works like 'The Symphony of Sorrowful Songs' and 'The Protecting Veil'. The feeling was that traditional religion was not fulfilling the need we have for something beyond this temporal being, and that this music filled the vacuum.

I wonder if a visit to Stonehenge likewise - knowingly or unknowingly - somehow connects people to an other-worldly past, plugging a gap in our predominantly secular 21st Century lives. The same coach parties might go on to Salisbury Cathedral or Bath Abbey. Are they all connected?

http://www.english-heritage.org.uk/daysout/properties/stonehenge

PS. Am going to try and get to this - spiritual void or no spiritual void:  http://www.salisburyfestival.co.uk/cms/site/news/the-festival-presents-fire-garden-at-stonehenge-for-the-london-2012-festival.aspx

Happiness is...

First, the bad news. Foods of the World is the latest victim of Frome Empty Shop Syndrome. Following hard on the heels (or maybe that should be some other part of the anatomy) of the recently departed Opal Lingerie, FOTW’s offering of herbs, spices and North African pottery has also failed to stay afloat. As the Saxonvale debate rumbles on, the death of another independent retailer will only add fuel to the anti-big town centre supermarket feeling that is abroad amongst certain sections of the community.

The good news is that those people who still have jobs in retail seem to be quite happy with their lot. Shop workers here – in both the independents and the chains – are a darn sight more friendly than they are in London or Surrey. Why? The work is more or less the same wherever you are: customers come in, buy things (usually), pay (usually) and leave, deliveries are taken, shelves are stocked etc etc. It can only be something to do with the general ambience of this town. Measuring happiness is all the rage these days - my survey is entirely unscientific, but I would say that on the basis of a Friday afternoon shop, the quotient is pretty high around here. Another noticeable difference about the residents of Frome compared to Londoners is that they do not walk the streets with their eyes glued to their smart phones, texting and tweeting their lives away. Frome is far from a technology-free zone - The Garden Café and La Strada, for example, offer wi-fi and you will see customers in there sipping their lattes and using their laptops. But it’s as if tweetmania has passed it by. Is it possible that not being in thrall to your mobile also makes you a happier, more sociable human being?

http://gardencafefrome.co.uk

http://www.cafelastrada.co.uk

The Meaning of Blog?

A colleague and reader of this blog (a blogger, herself: http://findyourdreamjob.wordpress.com) had a pop at me this week about my Bath Literature Festival post (below). It was, she said, too critical, too much of a whinge. Well, she may have had a point (though I will steadfastly continue to report the negative side of things, if negatives there be). But the conversation did make me think about the point of blogs.

Why do they exist?
Vanity publishing? Therapy? A chance to make the personal public? To offer new perspectives? To entertain, to inform? To irritate?

Probably all or a selection of the above in most cases. Certainly the blog-as-complaint can make for tiresome reading, though in my defence I was very upbeat about 'Jilted'! As a one-time reviewer of theatre/film/visual arts, I believe in the positive power of criticism. There's enough back-slapping and "darling, you were marvellous" going on in the arts, without me adding to it here.  No-one's work will ever improve without some constructive comment - positive and negative.

On a more general note, I believe the best blog writing takes the micro and makes it macro - espousing a personal view that has the power to resonate with those of us beyond the writer's immediate world. I also think that the outsider's opinion can be of interest. Not being immersed 100% in Frome life, I hope to provide a fresh view of the town, its people and (especially) its cultural offering. It's easy to take somewhere for granted when you live in it 24/7. And while I'm not arrogant enough to suggest that life-long Fromians should take any notice of the ramblings of an upstart weekender, I do at least hope that a different take on the place might be diverting, if nothing more.

PS This morning I received a part refund for the Nick Coleman ticket - thank you, Bath Festivals!

The Great Cucumber Mystery

A couple of weeks ago we bought a cucumber on the way home from a walk along Vallis Vale. Within two minutes of leaving the shop it had disappeared and there was a tell-tale hole in the carrier bag. We immediately re-traced our steps, but it was nowhere to be seen. Relating this story the next day to some Fromians, they told us the area where the rogue vegetable went AWOL was once notorious as a red light district. Its name? Badcox.

On the whole, it was folking good...

In my blog of the 8th Jan, I expressed my concerns about the line-up of the inaugural Frome Folk Festival, which is drawing to a close as I write.  I needn't have worried (too much).

The quality of the performances was, given the nature of an event like this, inevitably varied, ranging from the mundane to the startling. Attendances were healthy and  - with the odd notable exception  - the event was pretty much glitch free.

Dyer : Cummings' bassoonist wonders
if there's a breakfast rider in the contract

I can only report on the Saturday as we had to return from whence we come today, but it kicked off at the Cheese & Grain at the unlikely hour of 9.15am with local combo Dyer : Cummings. Belying their tender years, this quartet was completely unfazed by a dozy, morning audience's lackadaisical response and put in a highly commendable and energetic shift.

Then to a dreary room in the Masonic Hall to hear Rivers of England. Playing as a duo, their set hinted at how interesting the material might be, given more ambitious arrangements for a larger line-up.

Back to the C&G and Festival Patron and local resident, Cara Dillon, enthusiastically introduced Winter Mountain, while failing to mention that they are the first signing to her and husband Sam Lakeman's new label. Which might go some way to explain her enthusiasm. Their voices were beautiful, but does the world need a Simon & Garfunkel clone?

Jackie Oates puts on a brave face in the
light of  Weekender's criticism

We once saw Jackie Oates play solo aboard an industrial barge. She was terrific. But her set with her band yesterday was lacking in variety. She's a talented woman, but needs more light and shade in her repertoire.

At the Westway Cinema next, for Belshazzar's Feast (festival organisers please note - the sight lines are terrible). We only caught half an hour, but they were witty, entertaining, highly skilful and delivered far more than their rather wimpy last album, Find The Lady, promised. An act to catch up with at length elsewhere.

We had to leave the Feast to attend a singing workshop. Now, while Mrs Weekender has sung in amateur choirs, my vocalising has been mostly limited to audience participation at gigs. But the thought of 90 minutes in the company of Caroline Radcliffe must have struck a (vocal) chord somewhere. It was terrific. Caroline had us singing Swedish and Gaelic folksong and performing complicated rounds and harmonies. Experienced singers lined up besides novices and the whole thing was conducted in a terrific spirit. Bravo for participation.

But then the low spot of the day. Back to the Westway for Elfynn. They were late going on (no explanation offered) and suffered technical problems throughout. Their stand-in singer made her nerves quite clear and it was easy to see why their brand of folk-rock rose and fell very quickly in the 1970s. I hope their ceilidh this morning was more successful.

The Cheese & Grain puts the flags out

So to the finale - Jamie Smith's Mabon and Spiers & Boden at the C&G  - via a quick diversion to the Masons for half an hour of the inexplicably delayed Daturas. Interesting line-up (the only sighting of the Lesser Spotted Pedal Steel all day) and intriguing, passionate songs. But their sulky presentation did little to endear them to those of us of a certain age.

Jamie Smith's Mabon (not to be confused with 'Mabon' - the reason for that is a long and seemingly acrimonious story of family feuds) were absolutely superb. Where Elfynn sounded dated, this lot married a rock rhythm section to a traditional front line and the result was fresh, powerful and hugely entertaining. Smith is simply one of the best accordion players I have ever seen. But would they upstage the top of the bill? S & B came out with all guns blazing, proving a fiddle, a melodeon and a pair of stamping feet can be as exciting as any roaring rock band. It's been a while since we'd seen them, so was this new energy in response to Mabon's storming set? Or have they simply got more rock 'n' roll as Bellowhead goes from strength to strength? Whatever the reason, they married traditional song and dance to oodles of modern day oomph, and the result was hugely exhilarating.

John Spiers looks to the heavens for inspiration
(or at least the lighting rig at the Cheese & Grain)

So, 8 out of 10 from the judges: a score only slightly tarnished by the lack of activity in the town centre this mornng. A "Morris Market" was promised all weekend, complete with dancers. At midday today there was nothing going on. The music inside the venues may be quality, but it's out on the streets that the real impact of this event will be made with the people of Frome, most of whom will almost certainly not have been converted to the folkie cause.

But will it become a permanent fixture in the cultural calendar? Tickets for Frome Folk Festival 2013 went on sale yesterday.


http://www.fromefolkfestival.co.uk

Bras & Bravos

Randa Bott stares, smiling, out of the front page of the current edition of The List. She's promoting her lingerie shop on The Bridge. But between the magazine going to press and this weekend, the shop has put up the closing down notices. This is unfortunate  - not because I avail myself of Randa's goods (sorry not to be able to reveal that Weekender is a cross-dresser) - but because any one-off retailer in Frome that has to close down is bad news for a town that sells itself on its independent shops. And Opal's demise is a double whammy. Frome is proud of its bridge: along with nearby Bath, it claims to be the only town in Britain with shops along a river crossing. The cafe here has already shut, and Randa's imminent departure leaves a big hole in this historic retail strip.

Better news this weekend from The Black Swan - its 2012 Open Art Exhibition has just opened, and the quality and variety is excellent. We were particularly impressed by Annemarie Blake's wide screen, monochrome (and local) landscape, the manipulated photographs of Joseph Beveridge, Alison Shanks' witty ceramic toaster and the textures of Mark Nesbit's 'Titanic'. The gallery needs support, and it was encouraging to see so many people there this morning. Well worth a visit, for all sorts of reasons.

www.thelistfrome.co.uk

www.opallingerie.co.uk

www.blackswan.org.uk