JUNE | COVER FEATURE
M
oments into Access’ meeting with Michael
Eavis at Worthy Farm, and already he’s focusing
on the minutiae of his working life – weighing
the pros-and-cons of the various engines suitable for his
waste powered generator. A “good, reliable British Rolls-
Royce model” wins particular praise.
Still identifying as a farmer first, event organiser
second, Eavis – toned legs jutting from his trademark
shorts – looks proudly up at his farmland as he steps into
his muddied Land Rover Defender.
As we enter his house – a stone’s throw from a skeletal
iteration of the Pyramid Stage – Eavis is discussing the
early start he had today, during which he learnt that First
Great Western had named a new train after him: The
second train bearing his name, no less. (The first ‘HST
No. 43026 Michael Eavis’ was Christened in 2015).
Eavis’ nominal designation, and a Glastonbury logo,
will appear on the side of the new locomotive when it
speeds between Paddington and nearby Castle Cary
station to drop off more than 15,000 festival goers.
The honour was bestowed after Eavis beat 99 ‘Great
Westerners’ in a public vote.
Referencing the famous equine competition that
occurred the day before, he quips: “I feel like the Grand
National horse that just won twice. I’m very pleased.”
We sit down for tea under the projector in Worthy
Farm’s own cinema in the Alice Rooms, renovated in
2016 in what was once the milking parlour. 30 of the
red velvet seats we’re perched on once graced the Little
Theatre in Wells, whilst the back row of VIP seats come
from Glastonbury’s own ‘Cineramageddon’. The room
is warmed, Eavis proudly notes, by electricity produced
from cow slurry.
This passion for sustainability and re-using found
objects no doubt led Eavis to greenlight one of the
Festival’s regular highlights, the Arcadia Spectacular –
an ingeniously devised light and sound show featuring
a giant spider made from ex-military machinery and
industrial components, which began in 2014.
Eavis reflects on the inception of this Arachnidan
attraction, which now tours the world as a standalone
act: “We get 100 ideas pitched to us, and we look at each
of them and see who’s for real. Arcadia’s founders came
to us as total strangers and wanted me to lend them
£20,000. I said: ‘What have you done before?’ And they
said: ‘Nothing. But we’re going to build a big thing from
cranes, and we’ll do a show for you for nothing, and if
Michael Eavis now has two trains
named in his honour
30
the show’s a disaster, you get to keep the scrap metal,
which is valued at £10,000 – so you’re only losing £10,000
maximum’. Not a bad pitch that was it?! So I said: ‘Give
me the name of the auctioneer, and then I’ll cut you a
cheque’.”
This nurturing but pragmatic approach seems
typical of Eavis. And talking to individuals around the
Glastonbury site, we get a feel for his uncompromising
but stoic inclinations. One employee regales us with
an anecdote recounting a time when a hot-headed
tradesman fell afoul of Glastonbury’s structure
guidelines, forcing Eavis and his team to physically
dismantle his marquee on site. The tent owner’s
rage then escalated into action when he smashed a
large nearby rock through the window of Eavis’ 4x4.
Undeterred, Michael continued pulling pegs from the
ground as if nothing had happened.
This Zen-like attitude no doubt helped Glastonbury
become the behemoth it is today, covering 1,100 acres
(500 football pitches) and generating an economic
impact in excess of £73m. It’s a legacy that – on the day
he had a second train named after him – Eavis is keen to
reflect on:
“The impact of the Festival is huge. The guys behind
Boomtown all started here, so did companies like Serious
Stages and much of the festival industry. I was talking