We, SickBitchCrips, thoroughly enjoyed Liberty 2015. In fact, we can honestly say it was the best 50 minutes of our lives. On arrival, we bumped into larger than life Mik Scarlet and his wonderful wife Diane. They couldn’t have spoken more positively about Liberty and we were itching to make our grand entrance to see what all the fuss was about.
There were so many impressive moments we simply don’t know where to start. For example, the sculptural art that was the raised platform situated in front of the main stage was so precious and beautiful that nobody dared to mount it. The genius part was the water gushing around on top and the isolation and alienation it made us think about and relate to.
The alcoholic tent was empty and they didn’t serve champagne, which was a disgrace, so red wine had to do, at an extortionately crippling price.
Bradley Hemmings, a sweet, happy guy, bent over and sympathetically explained the financial restraints Liberty has been subjected to. So in conclusion, The Olympic Park is cheaper and the Mayor wants to reserve Trafalgar Square for international and cultural festivals and therefore Liberty has had its funding slashed by Boris. We totally understood and were delighted that at least we have somewhere to skip and dance and play with our balls.
Apparently, there are days of the year when Trafalgar Square is taken over by such events like a huge pillow fight and everyone dressing up as Santa Claus. We don’t really know how to match that, these are such ambitious and thought-provoking ideas.
The tiny erect tents sheltered the organisations, keeping them nice and dry, while we remained wet and excited by their leaflets.
The fluorescent zone managers/security/do-gooders were in abundance and it was a comfort to see that they were geared up for the drippiest of all days. Who needed heat when the rays from their jackets was enough to feel like we were in Benidorm.
The highlight of the day had to be when one of our delicate and fragile Chihuahuas did a shit in the name of live art.