Since I first saw Mashramani in 1968, the festival has had an uneven history. I remember some years when it was clearly struggling to find its feet – frail is the adjective that comes to mind – but within the past couple of years, driven by a concentrated effort from the Ministry of Culture, Mashramani appears to have caught a second wind. This year, there was a renewed vigour and excitement both among the revellers on Irving Street, and in the huge turnout of the public even though rain had been forecast. Thousands were there from early in the day, and most encouraging was the mixture that came to the party. All stripes, however you choose to interpret that, were there – all colours, all ages – and there was a striking combination of performer excitement and spectator satisfaction. From a distance, or up close,
