Words and Photos by Michael R. Walker
We’re going to talk about folk music and we’re going to talk about Art Outside. When most people hear about the festival, the first thing that comes to mind is typically the bass freak community that spends three straight days under the Dome Stage with the internal mantra beating “EAT SLEEP RAVE REPEAT.” Don’t get me wrong though, I enjoyed the curation that Art Outside put together this year. I’m particular about the EDM that I enjoy and am typically wary of anyone who introduces themselves as a DJ. We get it – you bought a MacBook and you watched some YouTube videos about how to use Ableton. But while the dome was four on the floor for hours on end, there existed another stage in the beautiful Apache Pass setting where the instrumentation was lighter, the sound less brain-rattling, and the lyrics poetic and witty. It was the folk-stage, conveniently placed next to the waffle and kombucha vendors.
The stage was adorned with beautiful and intricate wood carved lamps, soft glowing and pleasant to the eye. It became my refuge for the weekend. I should preface this by saying I didn’t spend my entire weekend at the folk stage. There was much to enjoy across the festival so I did. I did everything I possibly could. There was fantastic art everywhere, delicious food to be eaten, and all kinds of trouble to get into. I even suffered a minor concussion after an idiot in a furry costume climbed an inflatable human-ball, and decided it was a good idea to roll over the crowd at the Nahko and Medicine for the People show from behind. If you’re reading this, you should count your fucking stars that you side-swiped a grown man and not one of the five little kids within arm’s length of me, you thoughtless shit-pickle. I even pooped in a cup in the woods at 6:00 AM, but we’re not going to talk about that right now. We have folk-music to discuss. Also before I forget, thank you to the wonderful medics at the first aid tent. You guys were amazing.
Some of the really great acts from the folk stage were Sea At Last, and Sea Stars. Just as your brain just did whilst reading that last sentence, I also noticed that the word sea is present in both band names. I don’t believe in coincidence though, so let’s just chock it up to something neat and mysterious. Sea At Last delivered a powerful performance given such sparse instrumentation with complex drum compositions to match a tinny hollow body electric guitar. Even though the songs were pretty rock and roll at times, the vibe was still relaxed and the audience cheered with sincerity after each song rang out its last note. I also have mad respect for anyone who can successfully sing while playing the drums. Well done. Sea Stars played beautiful songs and were versatile in their song writing. Sea Stars impressed me in their ability to create atmosphere. Their songs traverse genre and do so quite tastefully. I also ran into the group in a vendor’s tent and they were some of the nicest musicians I’ve met to-date. I sincerely hope to see them in their native Seattle soon to see what the home crowd is like.
Of course all the acts were great, but the aforementioned folks really highlighted the stage beautifully and led to what I consider to be the most powerful performance of the festival when The Deer (formerly Grace Park and The Deer) took the stage and blew the crowd away. There were attendees stretched back far beyond the confines of the stage just to hear the crisp tones of Grace’s voice and the tastefully orchestrated music that carried melody and poetry across a surprisingly sonic landscape considering how simple their stage setup was. When they played a song dedicated to a bandmate who had passed into the great beyond in a tragic accident recently, they brought the crowd to literal tears. I haven’t been that moved by a performance in years and I was completely sober from beginning to end.
Overall, the folk presence was a perfect fit for the festival because it often served as a refuge from the more intense partying taking place elsewhere on the festival grounds. It was quieter at the Folk It Up stage, shaded by old trees with colorful and soft rugs to sit on rather than dust and dirt. I thought about that for a while – folk being the refuge for the tired and weary souled – and I was impressed with how beautifully that truth manifested in the weird microcosm of such a unique little festival. Truthfully, the environment itself plays such a huge part of Art Outside’s success. It’s not commercially fabricated. Most of it is hand made and assembled. And that’s what distinguishes Art Outside from everything else. It’s something that the Art Seen Alliance takes seriously and something I hope they feel proud of.
If you’ve never been to Art Outside, there are a few important points to keep in mind:
- It’s not ACL nor should it ever be like ACL.
- It’s not Bonaroo nor should it ever be like Bonaroo.
- It’s not just a music festival. It’s full of interactive workshops, art installations, vendors of every sort, performance art, and general tomfoolery.
- It is a beautiful place and is generally full of very kind and wonderful people. If you’re one of those people who make festivals a shitty time because all you care about is getting fucked up and putting another festy wrist-band on your stupid arm, don’t come. Nobody else will say it once you’re there so I’ll just say it now. Stay home and start prepping for Coachella next year, you dick.
There’s nothing negative to say about the festival at all, but only a sincere wish that they sort out a better port-a-potty situation soon. However, I do have mixed emotions about the future of Art Outside. It’s the kind of festival that keeps all of its prices low because it is so adored by its followers, which means it probably doesn’t make a ton of money. I worry about it because at some point somebody may decide that it needs to make more money, which inevitably means it will turn into a mud puddle of molly high twenty year olds who just couldn’t wait to see Phish play because they can’t stand their studio albums. These are the kinds of festival goers who love Skrillex, but don’t know or care who Elisha Gray is. But by the same token,I also love the idea of Art Outside getting a bit more funding so they can continue to bring in incredible performance acts and really establish themselves as a Texas festival that disproves the rest of the world’s assumptions about our state. Texas could use a better reputation and certainly deserves to have its positive qualities recognized.
Each person I chatted with who had been attending Art Outside since its inception had nothing but glowing reviews about how each year the festival learned from its prior experience and grew the weekend into a magical escape from reality. It is my sincerest hope that such a pattern continues. It speaks volumes about anything that creates loyal fans. Consider how Apple’s design and technology has changed the world. Consider how the World Cup momentarily brings nations together. Art Outside is a special event and a fine example in a world that desperately needs more environments in which art can be a dominant presence over advertising. May the odds be ever in your favor, Art Outside, and please continue growing your folk stage. I hate to be that guy, but I honestly can’t wait for next year.
Michael R. Walker hales from the flatlands of a wind-bleached Amarillo, TX. After departing this desolate place, traveling the world, and surviving a bout with amoebic dysentery he matriculated at Texas State University, obtaining approximately 2 degrees – respectively in Archaeological Iconography and Creative Writing. He loves bluegrass, whiskey, and would gladly sacrifice his friendship with you for a desperate love-spiral of pizza consumption. Michael currently works as a freelance web designer, plays guitar for the Austin band Ghostbunny, is a contributing author for Ovrld, and a poet/essayist for Velvet Dust Magazine.