Friday, August 21, 2015

Kulturfestivus for the Rest of Us

           


           There’s a formula to profiting off of festivals, and a simple one: bring all the biggest musical acts to one place, set up a couple of stands to sell french fries and funnel cake and wait for the cash to roll in. Stockholm’s Kulturfest does things a bit differently, however, as the focus is on culture rather than profit. For a week every August, the government makes a veritable art of community involvement. They set up a full program of film, dance, sports, lectures and music from Sweden and abroad free of charge for the community. According to its website, Kulturfest is one of the city’s “engagement strategies,” geared towards everyone “whether you’ve lived in the city for generations or you’re just passing through.” But, how does a city pull that off? What choices have the organizers made to create the most widely accessible experience for the maximum number of people?

            One of the most important decisions in planning a large event is location. Many festivals look for large, grassy, open spaces to set up massive stages. This is pragmatic, allowing for set up and tear down without disrupting pedestrian life in the area. It’s also easy to fence off and enforce ticket sales and security checks at entry. Another style of festival takes a different approach, taking place within the city itself. SXSW in Austin is one such example, where instead of building special stages, every bar, coffee shop, patio, rooftop and backyard has a band playing for a full week. Kulturfest does neither of these, combining the two approaches in a way that deliberately subverts the norm. They still build their big stages, but in the middle of Stockholm (almost like a site specific piece reacting to the city). What do they gain from doing this? First of all, a central location makes the festival easy to get to for more people. Public transport can shuttle people in and out on normal routes. Second of all, the festival almost markets itself. The people living in the city will have watched the stages and festival backdrops being built in the weeks leading up to the festival, and tourists will be sure to pass through on their first sightseeing walk through the city. And finally, the disruption of normal life that occurs when an exciting obtrusion is dropped into the middle of a city creates a surreal atmosphere that encourages people to forget their daily stresses in favor of a weeklong party in the streets. Without ticket sales, there’s no need to police any sort of border and the edges of the festival meld seamlessly into the city itself.


As far as the actual entertainment, my knowledge is unfortunately limited, as all we were able to observe were musical acts. But the range displayed even in this one area was significant. They managed to represent both the local community with acts like the Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra and to acknowledge the international nature of the city with acts like Ibibio SOUND MACHINE, an afro-disco-techno-postpunk group of Nigerian origin. Few of the names were of enough fame to be immediately recognizable, and what we saw were clearly intended to be cultural in a way one wouldn’t normally get to experience. In essence, rather than drawing crowds through big name groups, Kulturfest aims to create unique moments.
            The age spread was also specifically cultivated. At first the crowd at the concerts seemed abnormally old – we were probably the youngest by fifteen years at every performance. But this makes sense, it turns out, as Kulturfest has a DJ stage for 13-19 year olds, as well as events designed for kids under 13. By splitting events by generation they were able to more directly appeal to each bracket, instead of trying to broadly appeal to everyone at once. Parents and kids would be particularly invested in this, as it gives them an opportunity to go out into the city independently and in a safe environment.
            The visual aesthetic of the festival was less unorthodox than its location and musical choices, but it was still successful. The bright colors on the posters were simultaneously eye-catching and organized, corresponding to the colors of the stages (for example, all the acts for the 13-19 year old stage were scheduled in yellow). This was orienting for festival-goers but more of a practical decision than an artistic one. The only real visual art in the festival setup was a brightly colored archway marking a kind of entrance. I use the term "archway" loosely, since its full effect was to be walked under - see below. Unlike the posters, the arch served no mundane purpose. As I said above, there was no real beginning or end to the festival ground and the two main stages were actually on either side of it. It couldn’t mark the entrance to the festival then, so it’s purpose must be an artistic one. It stood as an attention-grabbing monument to center the festival and ground it in its physical space. And its impressive size and bold colors served to heighten the electric atmosphere.



            We often think of festivals as containing art in traditional forms – music, theater, film – but a festival itself can also be viewed as an artistic endeavor. The decisions that go into a festival of this kind are always deliberate and say quite a bit about the intentions of the organizers. A festival is about cultivating an atmosphere and creating an immersive and extended artistic space. A series of performances is not a festival, no matter how incredible they may be. But when framed in a successful way, with the audience as a top priority and many demographics in mind, thousands of people can have a unique and meaningful experience. 

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