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Irish Times
24-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Kneecap review: ‘We are so grateful'– band thanks its 20,000-strong ‘Fenian family' at London's Wide Awake Festival
Kneecap Wide Awake Festival, London ★★★★☆ The horizon at Brockwell Park in south London was dominated by a fluttering sea of Irish tricolours and Palestinian flags. There was expectation but also a flicker of tension among the 20,000 crowd as they waited on Friday night for Kneecap , the controversial West Belfast rappers who were headline act, to emerge on to the main stage at the Wide Awake Festival. The slight air of anxiety contrasted with the ebullient atmosphere that had greeted fellow Irish artist, the theatrical CMAT , who had strode the same stage just an hour before. There had been a heavy police presence at the entrance to the park. Kneecap's performance would be its most high profile since band member Liam Óg Ó hAnnaidh, who performs as Mo Chara, was charged this week with a terrorism offence for allegedly displaying a Hizbullah flag at a previous gig on the other side of London last November. READ MORE As the crowd waited for the band on Friday, the main stage was cast in darkness apart from the image of a balaclava, Kneecap's logo, which dominated the centre amid images of Celtic mythology. Slow, sombre Celtic music helped to build an ominous tone. [ Kneecap's Mo Chara appears on stage with tape over mouth after terrorism charge Opens in new window ] The mood lifted as the music became freer and louder and the band emerged, firing up the festival atmosphere. The crowd became even more uproarious as Kneecap launched into their opening track 'It's Been Ages (since we made the front pages)', as images of newspaper headlines flashed across the 25-foot screen, an ironic nod to recent events. Kneecap: Festivalgoers hold Palestine flags as they wait to hear the Belfast rap trio perform at Wide Awake Festival in London. Photograph: Henry Nicholls/AFP/Getty Images 'One big Fenian family,' said Mo Chara, as he eyed the crowd. 'Twenty thousand people – we are so grateful. We [only] started this because we were unemployed.' Later, he urged the crowd to 'give me a tiocfaidh ár lá'. He was giving his legal team 'a nightmare', he joked. Balaclavas and Celtic jerseys were prominent among the bouncing Kneecap fans. Dan Croy from Galway hoisted his pal Tom O'Connor on his shoulders to proudly display a Palestinian cap with the tricolour wrapped around his shoulders. Kneecap fans Dan Croy from Galway with his friend, Tom O'Connor on his shoulders, beside fellow Irishman Tommy Kelly. All live in London Photograph: Siobhán Reynolds 'Kneecap are at the forefront of freedom of expression,' said Croy. 'They are moving the message of the people across an international audience.' He complained about what he saw as 'disgusting censorship' of the band, who have been relentlessly criticised in the British press and have had several gigs cancelled after a series of controversies over their outspoken views. Not all the Irish in Brockwell Park wore green, but their accents gave them away. [ Uncharted with Ray Goggins review: Kneecap show their soulful side as they trudge through the Arctic snow Opens in new window ] 'After hearing about all the band's gigs getting cancelled, I felt an obligation to stand by them,' said Mary Ellen Saha, from Co Meath. 'I've been living here for over 20 years so I wanted to give them a big fáilte romhat from London.' It may have been an Irish night, but there were plenty of other nationalities present including a large contingent of British Kneecap fans. In a nod to some of the recent criticism of the band in UK media, Phil Parry from Nottingham was emphatic as he argued that art never sanctions death. Mary Ellen Saha attends Kneecap at London's Wide Awake Festival. Photograph: Siobhán Reynolds 'Art is not murdering anyone on behalf of politics, unlike world leaders who are inciting and initiating violence on a daily basis,' he said. He said he was fascinated by Kneecap's artistic exploration of working-class life through parodic lyrics and graphics. The crowd chanted in support of Palestine during each pause in Kneecap's energetic performance. At one stage, the crowd's energy jolted Mo Chara into another ad hoc speech. Phil Parry from Nottingham with his London friend, Julian Gilmore, at Kneecap in Brockwell Park on Friday night Photograph: Siobhán Reynolds 'You have no idea how close we were to being pulled off this gig,' he said. The crowd gave a euphoric response. Then they booed when he alleged to them that people with power in Britain were trying to silence the band and prevent them from appearing at Glastonbury in June. As the set ended, the band urged the audience to give their friends a big hug and realise how lucky they were not to be living in a war zone. Then Mo Chara signed off with another playful quip. 'Anyone know any good lawyers?' Kneecap: Festivalgoers hold Palestine flags during Wide Awake Festival 2025 in London. Photograph: Henry Nicholls/AFP/Getty Images
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Travel + Leisure
11-05-2025
- Travel + Leisure
This Coastal English Area Is Known for Stunning Beaches—but It's Home to a Community of Artists, Too
I suppose there was a moment when someone hiked this cliff, above this opal-colored sea, for the very first time. Humans have occupied Cornwall, in southwestern England, since the Mesolithic period. Back then, however, they wouldn't have seen the town of St. Ives in the distance, with its tiered cottages and fishing boats. I imagine they might have admired the purple heather on the hills, like I did, or maybe noticed a pair of gannets, like the ones I saw plunging into the water for fish. 'This is an ancient area, a Celtic area,' Tom Kay, my hiking companion, told me—a fabled land of mermaids and giants. 'There's old myths everywhere.' Kay is the founder of Finisterre, the Cornish outdoors brand. An ardent surfer, he started making fleece sweaters in St. Agnes in 2003, because nothing in the local wave shops suited the Cornish climate, so often windswept and cold. Finisterre now has stores in St. Ives and London, as well as 12 more across the U.K. The label is still headquartered in Cornwall, with the region's history of craft woven into the designs. From left: The beach in St. Ives; low tide in St. Ives harbor. Hayley Benoit Cafés along the St. Ives waterfront. Hayley Benoit Kay held out a navy sweater he'd brought for our hike, made in collaboration with Britain's Royal National Lifeboat Institution. The pattern is inspired by the Cornish gansey, which was originally knitted by fishermen's wives and daughters: a tightly woven woolen style designed to keep out the wind and saltwater spray, with a pattern of chevrons above the chest. 'In the 18th century, the nearby villages each had their own knit pattern so, if you got washed overboard or were lost at sea, they could identify where you came from by the pattern,' he said. This was my first time in Cornwall, and I had only known the region for its greatest hits: beef-filled pasties, seaside holidays, a cultural identity that carries an independent political streak. (Cornish, a historic Celtic language, is now taught in some primary schools.) From left: Shellfish traps in storage at Porthmeor Studios; Philip Medley at Porthmeor. Hayley Benoit From left: Tagliatelle at the Harbour View House restaurant; a guest room at the Harbour View House. Hayley Benoit But St. Ives, which has a population of about 11,000, is also the region's creative hub, and has deep artistic ties. J.M.W. Turner, the Romantic artist, painted some of his best-known works in the area. Barbara Hepworth, the 20th-century British sculptor, lived in town, where a museum and sculpture garden preserves her studio and works. Cornwall has suffered from long declines in the fishing and mining industries, but the arts community remains strong. In recent years, a new group of craftspeople and artisans—'makers,' basically—have hunkered down and are reviving old traditions. 'There's a lot of opportunity for creative work here,' Andrew Todd, a fashion designer and mixed-media artist, told me one morning over coffee. 'It feels like Cornwall is building on its legacy of arts, crafts, and niche businesses.' From left: Works at Leach Pottery; Roelof Uys at Leach Pottery. Hayley Benoit From left: Tom Kay, the founder of Finisterre; a Finisterre vest. Hayley Benoit So what is it about the area that people find so inspiring? I flew in to London's Gatwick airport last July and took a quick flight to Newquay, followed by a 40-minute drive down the coast. It was an easy trip, but a long one—I was traveling from Los Angeles—so when I checked in to the Harbour View House, I gratefully accepted a Negroni. Then I started to look around. With some surprise, I noticed the staff was young and the décor rustic and sunny. The vibe was kinda Melbourne, kinda Malibu. To discover the next morning that there was a surprisingly good breakfast burrito—well, if I hadn't known St. Ives was a beach town, I did now. My first outing was the cliff hike with Kay. He thought the coastal vistas were key to understanding what stirs creativity—the ruggedness of the hills, the soft colors. Afterward, I continued walking, but in a more urbane fashion: strolling the streets around my hotel. St. Ives is hilly, and filled with cottages, tiny shops, and art galleries, all of them overlooking a bay of fishing boats. In the summer, it's also smashed with tourists. I was lucky to snag a table for lunch at St. Eia, a chic wine bar and coffee shop that served me a delicate, delicious sandwich filled with Cornish crab. A short walk later, I arrived at Leach Pottery, a town institution that's both a museum and a working studio. Founded in 1920 by a pair of ceramists, Bernard Leach and Shoji Hamada, it continues to draw potters from around the world to learn from its unique melding of British and Japanese traditions. 'Getting all this knowledge is highly coveted,' Callum Cowie, one of two current apprentices, told me. The restaurant at Harbour View House, in St. Ives. Hayley Benoit Roelof Uys, the studio's lead potter, said generations of artists had traveled to Cornwall for its scenery and rustic, small-town culture. 'It's about a way of living, and living in a beautiful way,' he said. Historically, rent was also cheap. But that is no longer the case—especially since the pandemic, when Londoners snapped up coastal homes and prices spiked. Uys, who has lived in Cornwall for 26 years, worries that his children won't be able to afford to stay when they grow up. Leach Pottery has persevered, he said, because of its devotion to the craft. 'It's about continuing the tradition of Cornwall being a place for creativity.' St. Michael's Mount, near Penzance. Hayley Benoit For a fuller picture of Cornwall's creative pedigree, I headed back toward the sea, to the Tate St. Ives. What other beach community can claim a major museum with ocean views? Opened in 1993, the Tate celebrates the area's artistic legacy. One gallery had a special display of five abstracts by Mark Rothko. The paintings were originally commissioned for the Four Seasons restaurant in New York. But Rothko, who took a break from the murals in 1959 and visited St. Ives, decided they weren't right for the Four Seasons and donated them to the Tate Gallery shortly before his death in 1970. I was able to sit quietly for 10 minutes and absorb them; for a moment, I honestly felt like they were speaking to me. From left: The studio of Andrew Todd, Finisterre's head designer; Andrew Todd in his studio. Hayley Benoit I dined that night at the Fish Shed St. Ives, a light meal of oysters and french fries, and on a recommendation from my bartender, I finished the evening with a hike up to St. Nicholas Chapel (in the summer the sun sets as late as 9:30 p.m.). The church has been there since the 15th century, overlooking the beach. It made me wonder if the light had always been so sumptuous, and if it had seemed that way to people centuries ago. My second day started at Porthmeor Studios, possibly the oldest artists' studios in England. It has provided workspaces for fishermen and artists since the 1880s—a truly Cornwall-esque combination—which meant some rooms were full of nets and buoys and others stocked with art. The artists I met were all professionals represented by galleries in London, New York, and beyond. I asked one painter, Philip Medley, if the ocean inspired him. His abstract work did not look remotely nautical, but his studio had massive windows that faced the sea. 'Subconsciously it gets in,' he admitted. 'Especially in the winter, when the weather kicks off. I'm not conscious of it, but I suspect it's there.' From left: The Roundhouse, in Penzance; baked goods at the Roundhouse. Hayley Benoit Perhaps that was the key. Cornwall is more than just a place—it harbors a mystery and mystique that stir the imagination. I spent my final afternoon in the nearby town of Penzance, where I visited a modern art gallery called the Exchange. Lunch was a Cornish beer and a superb mortadella sandwich at the Roundhouse, a tiny café housed in a Victorian-era toll booth whose owner bakes his own focaccia. I felt nourished—by art, by nature, by the spirit of people creating with their hands. To live and work in Cornwall has probably never been easy, but its tradition of resourcefulness and artistry is thriving more strongly than ever. A version of this story first appeared in the June 2025 issue of Travel + Leisure under the headline 'Dyed in the Wool.'
