Sunday was the first time I felt the Grahamstown magic. Grahamstown during Festival isn’t really Grahamstown and I have been struggling a little even to get into Fest. I think my brain is still not sure whether to believe that I’m finally, actually home. Of course, not staying in town makes a difference, too. But yesterday driving into town, I felt it for the first time. It. It’s really difficult to describe: a sense of excitement, a sense of relief, a sense of home. Grahamstown. Home.

Ridiculously well-timed, too. Silly, almost: we were on our way to a lecture called Spirits of the Past about the history of the Eastern Cape and particularly Grahamstown. Not really a lecture in the academic sense but one of the Fest’s Historical Encounters. The audience perches at Fort Selwyn (or in our case next to the Makana gallery to avoid the rain) as story-teller, Alan Weyer, weaves the tale of this areas history from the early San, the Khoi-Khoi, Nguni settlement, shipwrecked sailors, frontier wars and trekboers. This storyteller is very clear that his narrative is just that, one narrative, but he is extremely well-read and knowledgeable and knows this part of the world intimately. It made me happy.

It was also a quiet Sunday. Our only other show was the Gala Concert. The two major classical music shows at Fest are the Symphony and Gala Concerts. The Symphony is obviously the more serious of the two. The Gala Concert is more relaxed and occasionally a bit zany, especially when conducted by Richard Cock. This year was no exception. The programme ranged from the Triumph March from Aida (ironically for Italy) through Woza Waltz by Shannon Mowday to You’ll never walk alone, complete with audience pulling off an excellent approximation of a stadium full of footie fans. Shannon Mowday performed and was good as usual. She has been a regular guest artist at these concerts since she was Young Artist Award winner for Jazz in 2007. The 2010 Young Artist for classical music was the soloist. Samson Diamond is a tiny man from Soweto. I’m not even sure that he plays a full-size violin. When he plays, though, angels must weep. Beautiful. The violin is my favourite instrument and in his hands it sings. I’m sad that I’m not going to be able to get to his recital.

All the music in this programme was very loosely linked with the soccer, through the nationality of the composer or some other tenuous connection. This proved a marvelous way to keep the audience engaged and provided plenty of laughs. The show also had to finish on time because the orchestra wanted to watch the soccer. Which is how we ended up with Richard Cock emerging for the encore wearing a makarapa. Up until then, audience participation had been limited to clapping, clicking and at one point singing like football fans. For the encore, in honour of Brazil, he had the entire audience at a Gala Concert, in the Guy Butler Theatre, doing the makarena. And they say that classical music is boring?!

A delightful day and a nice, quiet Sunday.