Text 1: A Saturday at Moorbank Sessions, by Nia Collins

An original contemporary online review.

Moorbank Sessions calls itself a music festival, although it occupies little more than a field behind the village hall. An eighteen-pound ticket gives you seven hours of music from twelve performers, divided between a covered main stage and a smaller acoustic tent.

The organisers encourage families to arrive early. Children can make simple instruments in the craft marquee, and folding chairs are available without charge for anyone who needs one. Each performance is introduced by a presenter, while lyrics and announcements appear on two screens beside the main stage.

Food comes from four vans selling hot meals, with drinking-water taps positioned around the field. The queues became long at six o'clock, but visitors were allowed to bring their own picnics. There were also plenty of stewards directing people and collecting rubbish.

The final band played as the sun went down. Hundreds of us were dancing by then, while the children waved the paper lanterns they had made that afternoon. The sound was clear without being painfully loud. Only the muddy walk back to the car park spoiled an unusually cheerful day.

Text 2: A concert at Bellminster Hall, by Clara Whitcombe

An original letter written in a nineteenth-century voice; a period simulation, not an archival document.

In this letter, written in 1864, Clara Whitcombe tells her sister about a public concert.

My dear Lucy,

Father purchased reserved seats for us at two shillings each, and so we had an excellent view from the second row. The hall was lit by a great circle of gas lamps, beneath which nearly forty musicians crowded upon the platform.

The first half contained a grand overture and two songs by Miss Amelia Hart, whose voice filled every corner of the room. After the interval, a violinist performed with such speed that the audience demanded he play again. The evening ended with a comic song, during which even Father laughed aloud.

A printed programme gave the words of each song and some information about the composers. Tea and small cakes were sold in the entrance hall during the interval, but we remained in our places because the passage was so crowded. The wooden seat grew uncomfortable before the final piece, and the heat from the lamps was oppressive.

Nevertheless, the applause continued until the conductor returned to bow for a third time. We came away having heard music of a kind that is rarely performed in our town.

Your affectionate sister, Clara