At its conception in 2002, HAY were a Danish design company with international ambitions. By travelling the world and keeping affordable, accessible design at the heart of its ethos, HAY have grown to be a worldwide, award winning brand. It champions the everyday but always achieves imaginative Scandi designs, putting a 1950s and 60s style into a contemporary context. Country of originSelected awardsFeatured designersThe requested page title contains invalid characters: "%26". Return to Main Page.Ruda SideboardsStudio SchallingNkForwardBengt Ruda sideboards in teak by NK at Studio SchallingSee MoreCatch up on the latest Haworth CollectionExplore this year's new product introductions Photos of the weekCheck out some of our great new imageryCulture with Robert BoundHay Festival6 June 2016Episode 243 30 minutes Photo: Marsha ArnoldThis year’s Hay Festival of literature, which takes place in the beautiful town of Hay-on-Wye on the Welsh border, has just wrapped up.
We take a look at the festival’s international ambitions and its influence on book sales. Plus: we meet some of the talented writers and publishers on offer.6 June 2016Share episodeDownloadChapter 110 minutesChapter 1Peter Florence founded Hay Festival with his father, Norman Florence, in 1988; since then he has taken it abroad, forming relationships with multiple book industries, and now it’s one of the most celebrated literary events in the world. We meet Peter to discuss how he’s taken the festival – and its market town in the Brecon Beacons – worldwide. Plus: Marcos Aguilar Vega, mayor of Querétaro City, and Cristina Fuentes, Hay’s Americas director, discuss the Mexican city’s upcoming Hay event.10 minutesShare chapter 1Chapter 25 minutesChapter 2Before this year’s Hay Festival it was announced that Nielsen BookScan would be tracking sales at the event for the first time. And does a book festival mean as much business as a book fair such as Frankfurt? Holly Fisher meets with the chair of Hay Festival and Caroline Michel, CEO of literary agency Peters Fraser & Dunlop.5 minutesShare chapter 2Chapter 38 minutesPhoto: Amy KerridgeChapter 3Hay-on-Wye’s rolling hills are an attractive source of inspiration for writers and artists and therefore the town has a rather arty population.
We meet the duo behind ‘The Keep’, a new magazine based in Hay-on-Wye that showcases local talent, and talk to one those writers, Oliver Balch. Balch moved here after stints in Buenos Aires and London and tells us why this small market town ended up being the source of his new book ‘Under the Tump’.8 minutesShare chapter 3Chapter 44 minutesChapter 4Cassava Republic was established in 2006 in Nigeria and represents exciting new African authors. Last year the company branched out and opened a London office, which is now headed up by the company’s founder, Bibi Bakare-Yusuf, while Brit Emma Shercliff runs the the Nigerian office in Abuja. Emma talks about the company and some of its authors.4 minutesShare chapter 4Want more radio episodes like these in your inbox?Sign up to Monocle's email newsletters to stay on top of news and opinion, plus the latest from the magazine, radio, film and shop.EmaileSign upThank you, you are now signed up.The Hay Festival is an embarrassing celebration of elitism.
It must open up to new readers There is rising interest in live literary experiences such as poetry slams, but the most influential literary festival needs to widen its appeal Thursday 26 May 2016 10:55 BST Today is the first day of the 2016 Hay Festival: the UK’s largest literary festival and a veritable cornucopia of books, bunting, those frightfully jolly Penguin deckchairs. An unapologetic celebration of elitism. Over the last decade, studies have claimed that literary festivals sideline low-profile authors and neglect minority writers, while continuing to cater to an ‘elite’ group of readers, writers and culture professionals. The Hay Festival isn’t any more elitist than any other UK literary festival, but it is bigger and it does swallow up most of the year’s column inches devoted to literary events. As a result, wealthy white people hanging out in luxury yurts and splurging on novelty Jane Austen tea-towels is the image that most Brits now associate with literary events.
It’s enough to put even the most voracious reader off going to their first book event. The 50 Best Cookbooks The idea that literature is for a specific subset of people - wealthy, traditionally educated, Radio 4 acolytes - isn’t new. After all, literature has been used as a demarker of social class for centuries, right back to the time when novels were considered trashy and publishers hadn’t yet worked out how to flog them to the intellectually ambitious by seizing on the ego-stroking, oxymoronic moniker, “literary fiction” (as opposed to “popular fiction”). If Hay’s organisers have already soaked up centuries of stereotyping, is it any surprise that this year’s programme looks like the result of a damson gin soaked brainstorming session between Mrs Tiggy Winkle and Michael Palin’s favourite cardigan? No, because the managers and publicists of events like these give the impression they don't want to turn them into anything other than a Cath Kidston tent-dwellers wet dream.
While the popularity of crossover writers and artists, such as the poet and rapper Kate Tempest, is growing, and there is a rising interest among young people in live literary experiences such as poetry slams, the most influential of these events, it seems to me, apparently sees no need to widen its own appeal and welcome new readers, writers or speakers. The prevailing of the status quo – among this year's attendees, at least – seems clear from one look at the Hay Festival 2016 programme. It’s not just the surfeit of white faces, shiny-haired blonde women and achingly twee shots of children, bunting and jam jars – it’s the ticket price. Charging admission makes an event inaccessible to many people on lower incomes, especially families with children. The average entry fee for a Hay Festival event is £7 per person. Plus a £3 booking fee. Which means that a family of four on the UK average weekly income of £499 are looking at spending up to half of that just so their youngest can hear Julia Donaldson talk about Detective Dog.
Unlike other high-profile cultural events, the Hay Festival doesn’t offer any concession prices on its website. The Proms, by contrast, has discounts for children, OAPs, disabled patrons and families clearly sign-posted both online and at the venue. By not advertising similar discounts, the Hay Festival risks sending out a troubling message to low-income readers: this is not for you. Some of these discounts are available, but potential festival-goers have to ring the box office and request information, which adds an extra layer of complication and reinforces the idea that the kind of people who visit the Hay Festival won’t really need a discount. But it’s not just low income audiences who can’t find a way through door who are missing out unless these festivals can attract a wider audience – it’s the traditional ticket holders too, who won’t have a chance to hear from the brightest talent working outside the literary establishment. It’s not just a damning verdict on literary festivals, but on the way British culture still considers literature an elitist pursuit.