Fairfield Halls, the municipal venue, hosts an event which, one year, saw cages set up outside. People entered the cages so that they could stroke and touch tame wolves, born and bred in captivity. Whilst this was going on, others inside the building were attending brief classes on subjects such as making a magick wand or knot magick, listening to a famous psychic who had a television show or watching morris sides dance as the spectators drank mead.

The overarching event that encompassed all of these things was called Witchfest. It has been running since at least 2008, with most of the meetings being held in Fairfield Halls in Croydon. During that time there have also been shops in the town itself, some of them units in larger buildings, that have tapped into the lifestyle ancillary to pagans and those who incorporate magick into their lives in one way or another. One or two pubs, whilst not being outwardly pagan, operate in a parallel way, appealing to Goths and souls with a similar direction of social travel. The question began to tickle my mind; why Croydon? Outwardly the town has little about it to suggest itself to aficionados of alternative culture. Like its polar opposite twin, Romford, Croydon is a busy, modern shopping centre on the outskirts of Greater London, sporting one-way systems, railway stations, modern shopping centres, pubs, clubs, and supporting extensive suburbs. It’s all very mainstream and consumer-friendly. Also, like Romford, it’s a town of surprising antiquity given the contemporary accoutrements built over it. There may have been a Roman staging-post for officials but, at the very least (and possibly of some surprise to modern dwellers), Croydon built up around an estate owned by the Archbishops of Canterbury. The Church ran the town for centuries. Decisions made by the archbishops were responsible for turning the former estate into a bustling town, such as starting a market in the grounds of the manor house on the estate; a manor house that became the holiday home of subsequent archbishops. The current shopping mall, the Whitgift Centre, is actually named after John Whitgift, one of the Archbishops of Canterbury who helped to shape the growing town. There is also the fact that an appointment in the Church of England in Croydon is a positive thing for aspiring clergy.

There are obvious reasons as to why Croydon was chosen to host Witchfest that spring to mind almost unbidden, such as financial; somewhere on the edge of London is going to be cheaper than, say the Albert Hall, personal; the organisers live there and they won’t have to go far to set it up and to attend, convenience; the organisation’s base is already there so its helpers are already on the spot. The shops selling ephemera connected to the goth/industrial/wiccan lifestyle could be explained by them being peripheral to the annual extravaganza of Witchfest and orbiting around the organisation that runs it, the Children of Artemis, for the rest of the year. What interests me is the continuation of activity associated with spirituality that runs like a thread throughout the course of the long history of Croydon, despite the burgeoning consumerism that also clings to it for almost as long a period. The sacred and the profane; it is an old theme summed up in Britain where the village pub is near the church.

I suppose that what I wonder is whether, somehow, the long amount of time that an organisation dedicated to the ineffable has imprinted upon the locale, a genius loci, as it were? Have the centuries of influence and the shaping hand of the Church of England left a residue on this otherwise pedestrian part of the world that has been picked up on by pagans and/or the spiritually unaligned and amplified back at us? The problem is that these are all intangibles. No-one can point at any empirical evidence and say “This proves that the Church left pools of holy energy to be utilised by whoever came after”. Spirit, after all, is materially intangible and defies proof. The materialistic world we occupy will only say that the Church was in Croydon for centuries and now pagans are here because it’s a bit dull in the suburbs and being a witch is more glamorous than collecting stamps. I will continue to sniff around the edges of what I consider to be a conundrum because there is something that I cannot shake about it all.

Witchfest and the Unconvention

Looming on the horizon is what I like to think of as Paranormal Conference Season.  This, the month of November, is when like-minded folk head off to large buildings to hear from experts in the fields of knot magic, the real truth about Jesus and not that church stuff, magic lanterns (the Victorian projector as opposed to pumpkins) and ghost-hunting.  There are two main events that interest me amongst quite a few in this fair city that take place very loosely around Samhain (or Hallowe’en, as it is more commonly known).

Both conventions have some things in common.  Both are large events drawing folk from all over Great Britain and points abroad.  Both have larger, main events with lectures and happenings in side rooms, performances and stalls selling goods more or less appropriate to the happening.  Both also have celebrities that the wider public may not have heard of or taken notice of too many times but have strong followings in their respective worlds.  Figures that spring to my mind are Kate West (Witchfest), who is a witch who has published guides for taking up that way of life; Professor Ronald Hutton (Witchfest), who is an authority in several areas pertaining to the witchy path; Jan Bondesen (Unconvention), a consultant rheumatologist who speaks about a very wide range of fortean topics and has published well-researched books upon such things and Jonathan Downes (Unconvention), a cryptozoologist and Director of the Centre for Fortean Zoology.

The first that I mention here is the more specialised of the two.  Witchfest claims to be the largest witchcraft festival in recorded history.  It started in 2002 and, from a glimpse online, 2011 looks to be as full a programme of events and performers as ever it was.  It takes place at Fairfield Halls in the holy suburb of Croydon.  I say ‘holy’ because Archbishops of Canterbury were Lord of the Manor since the time of William the Conqueror, and still act as patrons to this day.  The Archbishops not only had substantial holdings in the town but were in all probability responsible for its current, bustling status as a commercial centre.  They applied for a market charter and the town grew and never looked back.  I suppose that, given the appearance of Witchfest, the term ‘sacred suburb’ might be closer to the mark these days.  Witchfest is a one-day festival.  It makes up for this by running over into the next morning with many musicians of appropriate styles (folk, goth, mediæval, punk, industrial and points in between) that appear after the talking and stalls have been spirited away.  Despite being (in my eyes, anyway) the more specialised of the two, Witchfest has a broader appeal.  I, for want of a much, much better comparison, call this the Buffy effect.  I am confident that most of you reading this (and if you’ve come this far then well done!) will be familiar with the television series Buffy theVampire Slayer.  Since this teen-comedy-meets-children-of-the-night show wisecracked its way into popular culture in 1997, the occult side of teenagers (which I strongly suspect covers mainly clothes, make-up and the occasional how-to book, but I sincerely hope that my cynicism is misplaced) has been noticeable and transmutes itself into ticket sales and purchases from the traders, who stock everything one is likely to need to dress, cast spells and even drink like a witch (mead, anyone?).  The speakers also reflect the width of interest covered by the event.  They range from David Wells, who has appeared on TVs Most Haunted as the show’s resident medium, to Professor Ronald Hutton (as mentioned earlier), probably the UKs most prominent academic on paganism.  There is a strong emphasis on performing, with Morris-dancing in the foyer and the music later on.  One is also invited to attend opening and closing rituals, which serve to remind the visitor as to why he or she is there.  Many of the crowd are so richly attired in mediæval-inspired outfits (although these days, Victorian-influenced Steampunk clothing is becoming de rigeur) that they seem to be part of the more professional side of the event.  To sum up, the day is quite a riot of talks, drinking, shopping and entertainment, and generally caters for the interested “layperson” and casual dropper-in almost as well as those who have a dedicated life to the Craft.

Which brings us to the Unconvention.  Those of you who have visited this blog before may have happened upon my entry for the Fortean Times, a UK magazine covering strange phenomena and taking its inspiration from the American writer Charles Hoy Fort.  The good folk behind FT decided that one could not have too much of a good thing and started a conference that they titled the Unconvention – I’m sure that I don’t have to explain why.  The first such gathering was in 1994.  Unlike Witchfest, Unconvention has moved around, venue-wise.  This year it will be at the Camden Centre in close proximity to King’s Cross station.  One of the superficial similarities is that it covers subjects that fall under the heading ‘paranormal’.  However, despite this, the most striking differences between these musterings is that the subject matter in Uncon is much broader than Witchfest; ghosts, UFOs, parapsychology, parapolitics and cryptozoology just to name a very few.  Despite this, the crowd who attend seem more committed to the data (there is not the same emphasis upon entertainment, although it does appear – witness the burlesque shows of previous occasions) and no-one dresses up – to my knowledge at least.  So, in some important ways, Uncon is a more serious proceeding, with experts from many exotic fields gathered together over two days in Central London.  There is also no ritual of any kind as none is felt necessary or relevant.  What the latter may not have in spectacle it certainly makes up for in diversity and the sheer number of differing opinions that it brings to bear upon the unknown.

At the end of the day, it is all down to what one is looking for in your chosen event.  If you specialise in witchcraft or just want to unwind to a specific vibe, then Croydon East will call to you with its siren train horn (ahem).  If you feel seriously about strange stuff outside of enchantment and sorcery then it’s a more northerly station you may find yourself alighting upon.  Bit of irony, though, as it’s the other way round for Harry Potter fans.