Tuned in at the Sydney Festival

Last night I saw a kid breakdancing to some Rajasthani folk music. As an image it worked better than I thought it might. The occasion was the opening night of the Sydney Festival, a three-week affair, the first night of which is always free. The festival is a sprawling one, showcasing theatre, art, dance, comedy and much music from all over the world. It reminds me of the Edinburgh Arts Festival, though only if that had been cross-bred with some music festival from the UK summer.

We arrived at Hyde Park with just enough time left in the night for The Manganiyar Seduction to seduce us. They are a group of folk musicians from Rajasthan and the music has all the elements of the desert region. If you were from Pakistan's Sindh, for example, the Sufi strains will come through.

There are traces of Qawwali as well, but as the dhols took over, crescendoing until it seemed they couldn't anymore and going further still, the most overwhelming memory - and music can be so associated with memories and experiences of times, places, smells and people - was of Pappu Saeen and his dhols at the Shah Jamal shrine on Thursdays in Lahore. A similar frenzy slipped into the air here, unnoticed amid smoke, strange lights and a quiet sky.

Pappu Saeen was also involved briefly with that supreme Lahore percussionist outfit Overload, whose first album a few years back was among the freshest, most compelling to come out of an innovative, energetic local scene. They would've been good here, and appreciated.

The Manganiyar Seduction though, was as much a visual piece as it was aural. The musicians were placed in a box structure with 35 compartments, each housing one, or a group, of the artists. Each compartment was lit up with carnival lights and framed by red curtains, pulled back as each musician joined the piece, inspired by the red light district of Amsterdam. It smelt like Amsterdam as well.

Al Green was also playing somewhere, presumably where the largest crowd was headed to. I've seen him live once, so passing on this was easier. The pathways of Hyde Park were bedecked with lasers and smoke and bad BO. Sydney likes to party. Already we've been here for two in barely over a week.

Trapeze artists soared through the night air and there was wonderful jazz and reggae floating around the park elsewhere. AR Rehman will be around at some point over the festival. Rarely has a dead rubber in Hobart looked as unappetizing as this.