Stendhal: Through the Eyes of a Music Journalist
I started writing this piece two weeks ago about the multitude of effects that the festivals of Ireland have on the people who attend them, but after spending a weekend at the magnificent Stendhal festival in Limavady, it felt false to not let it take a different direction. I had done research on whether or not festivals were beneficial to the economy, to local artists or even to those who attended the festivals and the general consensus was a statistical maybe; but personal experience has completely and utterly changed my mind to a definite yes.
Stendhal festival lasts annually for 4 days, this year it being Thursday to Saturday with the grand pack-up being a Sunday morning. I left on a sunny Thursday, picking up Lewis from Ballymoney and getting ready to attend with pride to a stage that NuMuze was hosting. It was my first time attending a camping festival, let alone being a part of the company that hosts a stage at it. Thursday, being the first day, was assumingly the least busy; but I couldn't have been more wrong. We arrived with people from all over Ireland, families to single-attendees, all unloading into the camping area of the weekend. The energy was immediately hot and ready with music already booming and hi-vis workers darting about like bees. The queue into the festival was painstakingly long, not because of the wait time, but because the anticipation felt like the buzz of an amp echoing throughout the lane. I volunteered to put up the tent and after 8 years of not camping and even longer a time since I had earned my last Brownie badge, it was safe to say I wasn't as sharp on my survival skills as I’d remembered.
The tent was flat on the mud, our collection of overpacked items lying array on the ground and I was hopeless. That was then I heard a collection of laughs and chatter from the tent beside me. After mustering up courage that wasn't even necessary, I asked the neighbouring campers for a hand and without an ounce of hesitation there were two to three fellow lack-of-skilled performers helping me set up an 8 person tent. It was a simple notion but to me that helping hand kickstarted the vibe of the weekend; helping hands and community. We laughed, joked and managed to get the collection of fabric looking something like a tent; and that small gesture really sparked a lot of love for the dynamic of the attendees to the festival. Going out your way, doing something you're not fully confident in to help someone around you.
The Circus tent that NuMuze had the pleasure of hosting was bursting with energy by the time I had sprinted down the dust track and managed to figure out where I was going. Local Irish artists playing to a great crowd, the sound being phenomenal and the verve being felt seeping through with the mud-laden floor. The jazz-fusion vibration of Schtick was first on, followed by the rock radiance of Reflect; then the master of the crowd Charlie Hanlon and the heart-striking Dogswim finished the night. It was the first festival playing for some of the acts, and previous to seeing anyone play at a festival, it never really clicked to me why it mattered so much to play a setting such as this. But then it did. The crowd was not only filled with familiar friendly faces but also with parents, kids, punks, hippies, workers and anything else in between. The speciality of a festival comes from the variety of people who come; whether it be their first time or tenth time at Stendhal, they all listened and danced and enjoyed acts they would maybe have never seen before.
This not only benefits the artists, who get to play to a crowd in a setting that could never be replicated the exact same way, but also benefits those listening. This became clear on the last day of the festival, where I had the pleasure of watching Susi Pagel perform. She walked on stage with the usual pop-punk attitude that people crave, and wearing an outfit that struck a familiar clothes-envy within myself. Susi has always been so cool to me and so many others because of the presence she evokes on stage. The stage becomes hers every time and she gives me a Hannah Montana effect with her various hairstyles and Taylor Momsen-esque attire. But, as much as it was a pleasure to watch her perform, the importance of someone like Susi at a festival became abundantly clear when I saw a little girl standing awe-stricken in the front row.
Stendhal is a family-friendly festival and although I was somewhat sceptical of the idea of this, its importance planted itself directly in front of me. The little girl danced in admiration before being taken in by a few of Susi’s friends that were standing beside her, to hold hands and dance together. She couldn't have been more excited and, afterwards, even got to meet and take a photo with Susi herself. The moment really struck emotion within me, because we all remember that familiar feeling of seeing someone who astounds you at such a young age and thinking to yourself, “I wanna be her”. It makes the likelihood of being a pop star attainable for you and creates a sense of possibility that can't be challenged and maybe wouldn't have been achieved if it weren't for a festival setting.
The layout of Stendhal is next to no other, with various stages and areas that each perform a different purpose. There were the main stages which hosted larger acts and the woodland area for DJs and packed-out experiences, along with secret gardens hidden within plain sight to host fun activities and performances. One thing that they all held in common was their ability to always host local acts. One of Stendhal's founding aims has been to provide a platform for emerging musicians, visual artists, comedians and performers from Northern Ireland alongside established acts. This gives local creatives exposure without having to pay hundreds to play abroad. Stendhal manages to nurture everyone’s taste while allowing a large-scale platform for exposure to any and all artists. I caught some great acts that I had never had the pleasure of seeing before, like witnessing a packed-out woodland area to witness the folk-laden wonder of Polar Bolero and the sentiment of lyrical genius Aine Gordon. However, I also had the opportunity to visit bands I had seen before with fresh eyes in a different setting, like the captivating energy of Anna’s Number or the blinding sound of IV. A different setting of sound really matters so vitally, especially for local acts. It’s a dream of so many to be able to play a festival and by prioritising local acts, the possibility for future sets like this becomes so much more attainable.
The final, and maybe most important, positive attribute of festivals such as Stendhal is their facilitation of networking and making community. At the end of the day, when the bar had shut and the food stands closed, the NuMuze team tent hosted musicians we knew and new faces that popped up nightly, with conversations reaching far and wide. No phones, just music and the spark that comes from fellow creatives talking until the early hours of the morning. I was able to connect with musicians I had only briefly met, making friendships I can see lasting years. There were ideas thrown around on the most beneficial ways we can all support one another, plans for future endeavours with each other and seeds being planted on new ways to make the scene a better place for us all. This is really what brought Stendhal together: the artist-on-artist comradery. Seeing each other's sets, applauding their previous successions and bonding with the people around you. That is why festivals are not only important; they give exposure to not only a crowd but also to each other.
Stendhal was packed with memories. Ones I won't forget until next year, where they're replaced with shiny new ones. As much as each festival varies in meaning and intention, they all carry a few similar values, and these values are what are driving the scene around us. Exposure, community and inspiration are small ideas that make huge differences to the lives of musicians and artists around us and for that I can't thank Stendhal enough.