In March 2024 when the announcement was made that the Glemham Estate was to be sold, shivers ran down the spines of Eastfolkers throughout the land. That announcement was quickly followed by FolkEast’s own, stating that 2024 would see the last FolkEast at Glemham and that a new site was already being sought.
The 2024 event, “The Sun Sets on Glemham” was an emotional affair. For eleven years Glemham had become part of the FolkEast psyche. It’s fields, hedgerows, ditches and gentle slopes familiar to all. Now all of that was set to change.
Driving along the A12 to the festival’s new site at Sotterley, I passed what I had come to know as the plains of Southern Eastfolk. It was strange not to see flags flying, nor marquees buzzing with friendly banter or the hint of a tune drifting through the open driver’s window.
I continued along the A12, passing the site of Suffolk’s other major festival, Latitude, wondering what lay ahead. Despite Sotterley Estate’s size, over 2,500 acres, it is probably one of Suffolk’s best kept secrets. Set seven miles inland from Southwold, the estate sits in extensive wooded parkland and boasts its own lake, church and Georgian Mansion House.
My arrival of course was through the tradesman’s entrance, the production gate, to the south-east of the hall. The minute I drove through the gate and onto that little used woodland track it felt like something special, there was an inexplicable FolkEast-ness to it – a good omen.
Once I had collected my pass from the ever-helpful volunteers on the gate it was off to see what awaited me in the, as yet, uncharted woodlands of Northern Eastfolk. I had promised friends, who couldn’t make it this year, that the first thing I would do was head to The Falcon, the name of FolkEast’s new hostelry, and raise a glass of Jackelope to them. It was something we had done together over the last several years. How quickly we form our own traditions.
Therein lay my first problem, and indeed the problem most visitors encountered, where is everything, it’s all new, I can’t find anything! But it was an issue easily solved by simply going for a walk, getting your bearings along the way.
I very quickly began to realise that whilst Glemham was a large part of FolkEast, FolkEast is not Glemham. Indeed, FolkEast is a state of mind with no ties to a geographical location and yet tied to the land, the traditions, the folk… it is about, above all, the folk.
Having raised my pint to my friends I set out on a journey of discovery. It was oddly like being back at FolkEast in 2013, the first Glemham event, where everything was new and different. It didn’t take long to start bumping into folk I knew, stopping for a chat and generally catching up.
I arrived at the main stage, beautifully positioned between the manor house and the lake. The sloping lawn a perfect amphitheatre. I was there to catch the Nottingham Choir, their trip down from the Midlands deserving of my attention I felt. On discovering that the Nottingham in question was Nottingham, Alberta, Canada I had to find out more.
It seems their choir leader some years ago was a steward at FolkEast. Now living in Canada, she asked Becky Marshall-Potter if she could bring her choir to FolkEast. And she did – as part of a UK tour. Having been involved with large choirs for many years, I am strongly of the opinion that there is nothing as moving as the human voice. These young people opened with the Canadian National Anthem, O Canada. That was special.
Pre-covid, FolkEast had a harvest festival, village feeling about it. The restrictions placed on all outdoor activities post-covid meant, I felt, that FolkEast had lost something. Through no fault of their own, remember Becky & John Marshall Potter were one of the only few to run a covid-safe festival in the paddock of their farmhouse. But something changed post-covid, something wasn’t there, I could never put my finger on it. At Sotterley walking down the bustling Sunset Boulevard it all came back. That feeling of a vibrant village, busy merchants, ad hoc singing, Morris Dancing, all tightly knitted together where everyone knew someone to stop and spend time with.
I had only been there for a couple of hours, and I knew that this new location was working. That is not to say there weren’t niggles, and things that could be done better or differently. But for a first attempt, this was an excellent starting point. I texted my absent friends… “Sotterley Works!”
Off then to The Moot Hall, the traditional place of governance for Eastfolk, but mainly used for musical entertainment. Perhaps there is a place here for Eastfolk court hearings and assizes between the performances, Judge John Marshall-Potter presiding?
FolkEast doesn’t really do a ‘main stage’, there are equally as many top class acts at The Moot Hall as there are on the Sunset Stage. Many artists are just happy to be in the same field as the bigger names, regardless of where they are playing.
I spent most of my two days at FolkEast strolling between The Moot Hall and The Sunset Stage, never taking the same route twice. It was on one of my excursions to see St Margaret’s Church that I became aware of a tiny bar, hidden in the shade. The Rum’un didn’t just serve rum and I would wager many who attended missed this little gem hidden between The Church and The Barn.
The musical performances were numerous and all of a high standard. I am not going to list everything I saw, but some of my personal highlights included The Longest Johns’ version of What Do We Do With a Drunken Sailor. These madcap performers are a joy to watch, and it is impossible not to join in with them. Perhaps my favourite on the day was We Mavericks. I had heard good things about this antipodean duo but had not listened to any of their recordings. I caught them in sound check and was impressed with their harmonies. To say their show was delightful is an understatement!
Alas I arrived too late to catch the John Ward Trio or Christina Alden & Alex Patterson. I left too early to catch Honey and The Bear, but we chatted about life and babies as and when we bumped into each other. Life is not just about music you see, although it does help greatly.
Most of us Eastfolk types had spent a year wondering, after the sun had set on Glemham, what the sunrise on Sotterley would bring. Could it ever be the same, could it ever be as good? I feel every major festival should be forced to re-locate every ten years or so. Doing so presents new challenges, new opportunities, casts everything in a fresh light. FolkEast at Sotterley was reborn, refreshed, and it was exciting. And yet it was everything we had come to know and love about the festival. Becky and John have done very well to find such a beautiful new home for us to bid farewell to summer and prepare for the cold winter nights ahead.
