We organized a music festival 10 days before it was set to begin

When is the last time you took a risk? How did it work out?

For the past four years, I have spent my summer vacations in a spa and health resort town in Transylvania. In the center of that town, a kind-hearted woman, a former physics teacher at the local high school, has transformed a house she inherited into a private museum of traditional folk costumes, collecting traditional Romanian garments worn by our grandmothers a hundred years ago, as well as handwoven rugs and the famous blouse roumaine. To entice tourists to cross the street and go up to the second floor of the house-museum, the owner encouraged various local musicians or those visiting from around the country to hold small folk music concerts on her porch. Gradually, the musical evenings gained traction, and the hostess began to think about organizing a festival with multiple artists in the courtyard of the house-museum.

Her only dilemma was where to find more musicians willing to help her, initially either for free or for very little money: only three such artists had passed through the museum’s porch over the years, content with just free lodging and the money they made from busking. But for a festival, she would have needed at least three more performers. She made the mistake of revealing her plan to a reporter from the county radio station, who was on the ground gathering miscellaneous facts to turn into news stories.

Last summer, a staff member at the local radio station who hosted a show called „Strada Folk” came across a news item on the station’s website about a potential first folk music festival in that spa town. It was, of course, a plan that the owner of the house-museum had conceived for the following year. Without contacting this woman or anyone else locally, the host of that program announced last early fall a folk festival with a different name and at a different location in the spa town, organized by him with funding from the county council.

I had just left the spa town about a month ago when I saw a post on Facebook from the host of the folk music radio show who had “borrowed” the museum owner’s idea to carry it out on his own. I called the collector of traditional costumes and asked her: What are you going to do? Are you going to let this unscrupulous man steal an idea you’ve been working on for the past four years? The woman was just as outraged as I was. After an hour-long phone conversation, we agreed to try to put together our own folk festival, one week before the one announced by the radio host.

We had to work out all the details in less than two weeks. And this, given that the museum courtyard—the space where we wanted to hold the festival—was shared with a neighboring building that was in a state of disrepair. On top of that, we didn’t even have the artists confirmed yet: one of our three regular performers had turned down the invitation, so we only had two musicians and needed at least four more in order to have six artists performing across two weekend evenings.

I reached out to all my contacts in the folk music scene who might be open to performing for less money. My call was answered by a musical family I was friends with in my hometown. This wonderful couple of artists brought along two other musicians from two different cities—one who was already well-established nationally and another who was on the rise. On the other hand, the other street musician who spent his summers at the resort museum came with his guitarist brother and another drummer, bringing along a different folk singer from yet another city. With me and my guitar included, we ended up with a lineup that was already in danger of being too packed for just two festival nights.

The last and most challenging problem was renovating the courtyard where the festival was to take place and finding lodging and meals for all the participants. Accommodation was partially sponsored by a former student of the physics teacher who was now the owner of a small private hotel in the resort; part of the accommodation cost and the full price of meals at the restaurant were paid by the association that maintained the museum, but which was facing serious financial difficulties. And the cleaning and refurbishment of the courtyard between the museum and the abandoned neighboring house was completed in record time by a few local volunteers, among whom the museum guard stood out in particular.

Apart from the challenge of organizing a festival just two weeks before it was set to begin, there were two other major risks we took: the musicians invited to perform for the first time at an unknown festival in a remote town might have been disappointed upon arrival and refused to play; the ghost courtyard might have proven impractical for setting up the stage or the audience area. Fortunately, none of these potential nightmares came true: all the invited artists were generous enough to offer their services without monetary payment, but with all other amenities provided. Inspired by the spirit of several other small folk music festivals held on hay bales or wooden stumps, we furnished the courtyard not only with chairs but also with all sorts of handmade wooden objects for visitors to sit on. The stage was built out of wood at the back of the courtyard, against a rocky wall, courtesy of the museum’s same kind-hearted staff. Without spending a single penny on online promotion and with just a few posters plastered around town, we managed to fill the courtyard with both curious locals and enthusiastic tourists. We didn’t charge an entrance fee, but a box for voluntary donations helped offset some of the costs incurred by the museum association.

The audience had a great time; we even had people standing at the gate and some right on the sidewalk across the street. The artists gave their all on stage during the two evenings, and during the days they enjoyed walks, mineral water, and the fresh mountain air. The locals remembered the event and began to take pride in it. And the organizers saw their dream come true and made plans for the following year, when they were to hold a second, better-organized edition with more diverse funding.

Needless to say, a week later, the host of the county radio station’s program did not hold any parallel festival in the same town—and rescheduled it on his own initiative for a later date, which has not been announced since then.

It was a bit of a risky start to autumn, but music and self-belief made it memorable. It’s good to never stop believing in miracles, no matter your age.