This WE the festival ‘City of Wings Ypres’ took place. It is a festival where street theatre makers can introduce themselves, a festival where street theatre lovers can get an overdose. This time there were women in trees, women playing with fire, man with fiery suits, man with multiple flutes and real super bugs… Too much to mention.

At a given moment I saw a piper and drum band warming up. But the official folder didn’t show them… A little later it became clear why: they were here for a much more serious matter, they were on their way to the Menin Gate, for the last post… Where there was quite a crowd: a large group of Canadian youngsters where there to pay respect to their fallen ancestors. The contrast couldn’t have been bigger: here respect and modesty, in the rest of the city joy and entertainment. Like the contrast between the ruined Ypres in 1918 and the City of Wings in 2012…

“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.”
(For the Fallen, Laurence Binyon)


PS: I’ve also visited this festival in 2010. Here you can see the pictures from that event.


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