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Read Dave Burrows exciting minute-by-minute review on the MBFC Website

At Faenol with Bryn, Michael and Alicia

I know that some reviews of Faenol have been posted.  However I'm still floating somewhere above the clouds and want to share my experiences with you.  I hope one more review won't bore you!!

I confess, I spent most of the morning being a complete pain to all those around me.  I was yelling  "Are you ready to go now" from about 10.30!  Finally at 3.30 My Dad, Mum, Gran and I piled into the car.  Dad was raised in North Wales, so knew all the short cuts, and managed to avoid all major hold ups.  After spending some time looking for Barbara, (sorry to have missed you Barbara!) we realized that we were going to have to join the ever- expanding queue if we were to have a chance of reasonable seats.  The queue waiting for the gates to open was good-natured and very friendly.  I heard so many lovely comments about our Michael I began to wonder who was the biggest attraction, Michael or Bryn!  Michael was obviously rehearsing as we were waiting patiently for the gates to open.  I could tell we were in for a very special evening.  

Finally the gates open, and we rush forward.  I couldn't believe that there was still room for us to set up out picnic directly behind the people who had paid for seats.  I really couldn't believe our luck.  The remainder of the time before the concert began went so fast.  Walking towards the toilet facilities I saw a Michael Ball fan with a black tour tee shirt on, and another with a Michael ball pin badge. I  did wonder if they could be anyone from the list!!

Eventually, the concert started 15 minutes late due to traffic congestion.  Did nobody warn Bryn this was the danger in inviting Michael to be a guest at his festival?  I could fill pages with how good both Bryn Terfel and Sian Cothi were.  Both were in stunning form.  Finally it was time for Bryn to introduce Michael.  "I have only one word for you in any language Croeso - Welcome Michael Ball".  Michael bounded on stage to sing "Let the Rivers Run."  He was dressed in a dark lounge suit, a white shirt and a light blue tie.  My notes of the evening contain the following comments: Michael's voice has improved in quality.  Whether this is due to his not smoking, or his taking professional lessons I don't know.  In my opinion Michael has developed an operatic stance, has lost weight and is looking fitter and healthier than ever!!

Michael went from singing "Let the Rivers Run" to "Any Dream Will Do"  from Joseph.  At the end of which, he was complimentary about Bryn, saying he obviously has a Passion for Wales and describing Bryn's voice as a big Welsh hug.  He began talking about his performance in "Godspell" in Aberystwyth.  This was obviously the cue to launch into "Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord," immediately followed by "Gethsemane." I have never heard Michael sing "Gethsemane" with so much passion.  The hairs on my neck were standing up, and I was literally shaking with the emotion of it.

In the second half Michael sang "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables", and "I Dreamed a Dream" from "Les Miserables".  Sian Cothi came on to receive a very smoochy kiss from Michael.  They sang "All I Ask of You" as a superb duet together.  Michael really got into the role!!  Finally,  Michael sang "Love Changes Everything."   I could have asked, and expected no more. 

However, what was this!!?!! -  Michael coming back on with Bryn?  "Perhaps we should do one together Bryn, nothing ventured!" Michael joked.  Their duet was something I have written down as "Perhaps Love" although I'm not sure that's its correct title.  All three performers joined together for "You'll Never Walk Alone," "We'll Keep a Welcome in the Hillside" and the Welsh National Anthem.  The audience was more than obliging in joining in with all three of these songs.  Give a Welshman a chance to sing!!  This along with the flag waving really produced an unforgettable atmosphere.

Well, sorry for the very long post.

Alicia

And ~ With Jinty

TWO OF THE BEST

It was Sunday, it was Wales, and, by crikey, not very wet,
To Faenol in 'nine's chariot was where we knew that we must get,
She turned the key, the car went 'splutter', simply dead,
As we pushed it down the road, more than "Crikey Hell" was said.
The wasps they came a flying to drive poor Ros quite batty,
With permed curls flying on the breeze, she should wear a hatty.
So there we all were driving to Faenol - and  quite quickly,
We skidded here, we skidded there, 'til Laura felt dead sickly.
Faenol is the place if you've a mind for mud and for sheep,
With cow dung here and cow dung there, the piles of crap were deep.
Ros thought we might be late and feared we'd our lose chance,
To be near to Michael's feet, 'cos she's learning how to dance.
The man who parked so close, clearly hoped for just one look,
At aging thighs, dimpled bum, as I changed aged jeans and boots.
He stood bemused, unaware of what it was that he was doing,
Mesmerized by my aging body -the bit that I was showing.
Janine and Ros and Laura, too, were laughing all their socks of,
I smiled on my other cheeks as I boldly  took my skirt off.
We crossed the field, towards the marquees and some tents,
And everywhere that Ros did go those wasps so surely went.
With flapping arms and flailing hands she tried to run away,
But Welsh wasps knew what day it was, each one was there to stay,
They wanted to see Bryn and Mike and buzz along in unison,
But Ros consigned them all to hell,  wishing they were gone.
Security guards came for a glimpse they thought that we were daft,
They pointed at us sitting there, and some unkindly laughed.
Ros, as you know, lives in loo-loo land, all awash with bleach,
And the portaloos upon the site were far beyond her reach.
So one young man dressed all in black decided to be caring,
"There's VIP ones round the back - they won't mind you sharing".
So off she trotted every now and then to see whom she could find,
She clearly hoped that Michael Ball might be baring his behind.
The girls they wanted to be sure to greet Michael as he drove in,
They waved at every car that passed, to be sure that he would see them.
They also waved at pick-up trucks, at helicopters and at planes,
The waved as each vehicle drove swiftly in and then drove out again.
Maybe he was in the red Vaux they'd tried to peer right into,
But then they saw a large green box, his Merc - gone incognito.
The day passed slowly as such days do, the sun was high and hot,
Our skin was burnt to cinders - beautiful we woz not
The moment came when all was ready and they let us in to see,
Where Bryn and Shân and Michael would change North Walian history.
We found a place upon the ground, one sheltered and quite pleasing,
Ros was almost happy, although the choir men still were teasing.
The show started after many hours, but was quite well worth the wait,
So many cars were coming that nearly all (except us)  were quite unseemly late.
Big Bryn strode out upon the stage, we saw it shake and shiver,
But seeing his big thighs and manly stance set each girl's heart a-quiver.
He sang with restrained passion, his movements refined and telling,
Round the field like Gabriel's horn his baritone voice was swelling.
We swooned like girlie teenagers, at every note he sang,
The hills like Heavenly reaches with heavenly music rang.
We stamped and cheered, as he sang  his song, we feared we could be hoarse,
But when Michael strode on to the stage, we found new breath and voice, of course.
Michael, our man, our chunky guy, who sets our hearts a flutter,
Sang Let the Rivers Run  to us, until knees they turned to butter.
Who could be snitty about our Mike when his voice charms all again,
Except to say his suit was drab, and his tie and shirt just plain.
But bless the man, he held the audience within the palm of one big hand,
"By eck,"  they'd say in Yorkshire, "this man is simply grand."
Having told the rivers to run their course he started then on tears,
Gethsemane was cried upon and then received with cheers.
Not all there knew of this man, didn't know he could sing,
But they learned what Michael Ball could do when he made the mountains ring.
His voice it echoed, throughout Wales, the homeland of his Mother,
Every Welsh man sitting there was proud to call him 'Brother'.
He sang with Shân the song we've heard him sing with Sarah,
But Shân sang like an angel, her voice was somewhat fairer.
But then he kissed the lovely Shân, which made us females mutter:
"Bitch" and "Cow" and "Bitch" again - we could see her heart a-flutter.
And who amongst us could sit dry eyed when Mike and Bryn began
We'll keep a Welcome in the Hillside?  Not me, nor any man.
And walking alone was ruled out by three voices proud and pure,
To listen to such words and sounds moved every heart, I'm sure.
Land of My Fathers in Welsh was sung, by Michael as well as all the others,
I didn't know Michael spoke Welsh, the language of Heav'n, and of his Mother.
The fireworks echoed across the hills, vales and rivers , they must have shivered,
The mountains, bowed down at their feet, the trees on hilltops - they all quivered.
And then sadly it was over, the Faenol Festival of Bryn the blessed,
Bryn, and the man with a Godly voice, strode off arm in arm - TWO OF THE BEST

Jinty

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