HowTheLightGetsIn

Ten days of big ideas in Hay-on-Wye.

The New Statesman is delighted to be a media partner for this year's HowTheLightGetsIn festival in Hay-on-Wye. HTLGI is, in the organisers' description, "the world's largest philosophy and music festival". This year's feast of big ideas in the Welsh borders begins on Thursday 31 May and runs until Sunday 10 June.

Hilary Lawson, the festival director, says:

I little imagined five years ago when we held our first debate in a converted Methodist chapel in Hay-on-Wye that HowTheLightGetsIn would become the largest philosophy and music festival in the world. Five years on, we're back with a full programme of over 450 events across ten days and expecting over 35,000 visitors. The intention was always to take philosophy out of the academy and into people's lives, to encourage real dialogue about issues that matter and to invite leading thinkers with new ideas to share, rather than celebrities looking to plug their latest book. It's great to see this in action on the festival site and to watch our digital audience grow via iai.tv, where we post all of our debates, solo talks and live performances.

The range of speakers is too vast to summarise here, but highlights include: Jim Al-Khalili on chaos theory; Mary Midgley and Ruth Padel on poetic theories; David Aaronovitch and David Blunkett on the ends of ideals; James Lovelock on freedom of scientific speech; Raymond Tallis on music and neuroscience; Galen Strawson on the mind; Barry C Smith's philosophical wine-tasting; Steven Pinker on the decline of violence; and Peter Singer on humans and animals.

On Friday 1 June, New Statesman culture editor Jonathan Derbyshire will chair a session entitled "Uncharted Territory: Progress for a new era", with Giles Fraser, Hilary Rose, Bjorn Lomborg and Ziauddin Sardar. The following day, at 12pm, Jonathan will debate the ramifications of Stephen Hawking's recent declaration that philosophy is dead with Lewis Wolpert and Steve Fuller. In the afternoon, he will chair a debate on the "rationality of climate change" with Nigel Lawson, Bjorn Lomborg, Polly Higgins and Barry C Smith.

To see the full programme and to book tickets, click here.

Performers on the streets of Hay-on-Wye (Photo: Getty Images)
Don't Tell the Bride YouTube screengrab
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How did Don’t Tell the Bride lose its spark?

Falling out of the love with reality TV’s wedding planning hit.

Steph, 23, from Nottinghamshire, is standing in a drizzly field wearing a wedding dress. Her betrothed, Billy, is running around in a tweed flat cap trying to make some pigs walk in “a continuous parade”. A man from Guinness World Records is watching with a clipboard, shaking his head. Bridesmaids gaze sorrowfully into the middle distance, each in a damp pig onesie.

Thus ends the second wedding in E4’s new series of Don’t Tell the Bride – and the programme’s integrity with it.

When the classic programme, which follows grooms attempting to plan their wedding (punchline: human males doing some organising), began a decade ago on BBC Three, it had the raw spark of unpredictability. For eight years, the show did nothing fancy with the format, and stuck with pretty ordinary couples who had few eccentric aspirations for their wedding day.

This usually resulted in run-of-the-mill, mildly disappointing weddings where the worst thing that happened would be a reception at the nearest motorway pub, or an ill-fitting New Look low heel.

It sounds dull, but anyone who has religiously watched it knows that the more low-key weddings expose what is truly intriguing about this programme: the unconditional commitment – or doomed nature – of a relationship. As one of the show’s superfans told the Radio Times a couple of years ago:

“It’s perfect, and not in an ironic or post-ironic or snarky way. The format has the solemn weight of a ceremony . . . Don’t Tell the Bride is not about ruined weddings, it’s about hope. Every wedding is a demonstration of how our ambitions curve away from our abilities. It’s a show about striving to deserve love and how that’s rarely enough.”

It also meant that when there were bombshells, they were stand-out episodes. High drama like Series 4’s notorious Las Vegas wedding almost resulting in a no-show bride. Or heart-warming surprises like the geezer Luke in Series 3 playing Fifa and guzzling a tinny on his wedding morning, who incongruously pulls off a stonking wedding day (complete with special permission from the Catholic Church).

For its eight years on BBC Three, a few wildcard weddings were thrown into the mix of each series. Then the show had a brief affair with BBC One, a flirt with Sky, and is now on its tenth year, 13th series and in a brand new relationship – with the more outrageous E4.

During its journey from BBC Three, the show has been losing its way. Tedious relationship preamble has been used to beef up each episode. Some of the grooms are cruel rather than clueless, or seem more pathetic and vulnerable than naïve. And wackier weddings have become the norm.

The programme has now fully split from its understated roots. Since it kicked off at the end of July, every wedding has been a publicity stunt. The pig farm nuptials are sandwiched between a Costa del Sol-based parasail monstrosity and an Eighties Neighbours-themed ceremony, for example. All facilitated by producers clearly handing the groom and best men karaoke booth-style props (sombreros! Inflatable guitars! Wigs!) to soup up the living room planning process.

Such hamminess doesn’t give us the same fly-on-the-wall flavour of a relationship as the older episodes. But maybe this level of artifice is appropriate. As one groom revealed to enraged fans in The Sun this week, the ceremonies filmed are not actually legally binding. “It makes a bit of a mockery of the process that the bride and groom go through this huge ordeal for a ceremony which isn’t even legal,” he said. Perhaps we should’ve predicted it would all eventually end in divorce – from reality.

Don’t Tell the Bride is on E4 at 9pm

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.