'Where the wild things are' - Wilderness Festival @ Cornbury Park - live review

The sun is going down on a perfect summer’s day and a classical orchestra are tuning up for their performance on a sunlit stage.

It’s a scene repeated at any number of outdoor events. Or perhaps not. The orchestra are performing in a natural amphitheatre at the Wilderness festival. The crowd sport elaborate headdresses of feathers, shiny leggings and body paint, and their faces sparkle with glitter and sequins.

Then the orchestra break into a brooding repertoire of songs by Oxford’s own Radiohead, joined by singer Camille O’Sullivan – her voice soaring over the trees and tipis.

It’s a stunning moment; one to bring a tingle to the spine and a lump to the throat. And it was just one of many at this extraordinary event.

Highlights were too numerous. The headliners were Bjork, Ben Howard and jazz-funk king George Clinton, but these were easily matched by the unexpected delights stumbled upon on innumerable small stages.

The Wilderness Orchestra, responsible for that Re/Radiohead set were obvious champs, as were the Wilderness Choir who joined them – along with the crowd for an epic Bohemian Rhapsody.

Also stunning were the Vocal Choir – featuring human beatboxer Shlomo and friends – who gave faultless renditions of pop, rock and dance classics, with just their own voices providing beats and instrumentation. A highpoint was a rendition of Prodigy’s Out of Space with the Wilderness Orchestra chiming in part-way through. Bonkers and brilliant.

It formed a natural start to a final wild party in the Hidden Valley, where Tom Middleton spun a set also rich in 90s references. 

Those late night revels have become a favourite feature of Wilderness, and certainly are uunlike anything found anywhere else. For three nights a roll call of DJs threw out the beats to a packed valley of ravers, while, overhead, circus acts verging on the surreal (was that woman really riding a pink elephant through the sky?) kept us on our toes.

Music wise, the bill was more one of discovery than obvious big-hitters. Gone were the big names seen at every other festival this summer, and in their place a carefully selected (I won't use the word 'curated') bill of cult favourites and hip - but not yet famous - showstoppers.

Moloko’s Roisin Murphey, Nils Frahm and Nick Mulvey were predictably brilliant- generating much excited chatter around the site, not least from festival host Lady 'Tania' Rotherwick - the smiling owner of Cornbury Park admitting she had become a huge fan of Frahm and Mulvey, in particular.

The lovely half-timbered Folk Barn Stage continued to present a mix of traditional acoustic and avant garde marvels, which kept a loyal fanbase all weekend.

The highlight here was oddball cellist Laura Moody who gave a haunting, swirling set of vocal acrobatics displaying her epic range - accompanied by cello as we've never heard it played before. It was unsettling and hypnotic, virtuosic and downright fun-loving silly. Brilliant!

A surprise hit was Sunday evening's set by Seattle's Mike Hadreas - aka Perfume Genius. Despite a modest crowd he served up waves of epic emotional pop which washed over those of us sat transfixed on the grass. Here's an artist that is definitely worth looking out for - and deserves to be huge.

Another surprise was Caravan Palace, who mix up 1920s style with dance beats, coming up with something oh-so-stylish; cutting edge yet charmingly retro.

That vintage theme ruled throughout the weekend, with punters and artists donning stytlish outfits - from flapper girls to dapper army officers. Others chose to stick to the three themes of mermaids and mariners, classic aviators and monarchs - many more, perhaps lacking the energy or inclination to prepare three separate costumes - fused themes to come up with their own bizarre creations. All came with copious amounts of glitter and sequins.

As for the headliners, they were much as predicted: Ben Howard great for fans of that somewhat rootsy, slightly fragile feel-good singer-songwriter fare. Bjork was... well, Bjork: her idiosyncratic caterwauling and vocal acrobatics enthralling fans but sending others away yawning. Only a beautiful rendition of classic Hyperballad saved it from total self-indulgence. The visuals were impressive though.

Clinton and his Parliament-Funkadelic collective, by contrast, had the crowd in their palms. But the best was to come; the set followed by a jaw-dropping acrobatic display featuring an enormous robot puppet and a living net of trapeze artists who tumbled from the sky in a shower of glitter.

Or did we just imagine it? Wilderness gets you like that.

It’s so good it feels like a dream.

Nearly 30,000 'Wild Things' enjoy weird and wonderful Wilderness... Full story + pictures here