Brothers’ film break was really taking the Michael Reviews
MANY have bemoaned the fact that the Henley Festival has gone “downmarket” in its choice of acts: 10 years ago the Saturday night slot would have been taken by the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra and we promenaders would be snuggled up in blankets in deckchairs on the lawn.
But times have changed, as artistic director Stewart Collins likes to tell us, and so have tastes.
The new, reconstituted Henley Festival has a more feisty, feckless feel to it. There are nightclubs and gin bars and kiosks selling nachos. The ladies still dress up, but they look less stiff in their evening garb (one lady even sported a black leather jacket over her party dress).
It is the perfect place for the discerning 40-plus age bracket to have a boogie and let their hair down, but there’s still enough elegance and style to place the pop music festival north of Glastonbury.
And so we stood in the twilight on the perfect balmy evening for summer fun and there was a palpable buzz of excitement in the crowd as, bedecked in dinner jackets and glitzy dresses, we waited for the Jacksons to make their grand entrance.