It’s official: the Dutch festival summer has started. On Friday, about twenty festival started all over the country and that is noticeable, even for everyone who is not going to a festival meadow this weekend. The stations are full of people with backpacks and steps of beer, the shuttle buses dart in all directions and in the nature reserves those famous tent spots are popping up everywhere – and the basses and the beats rumble.
It sounds like the soundtrack to a regained freedom: because of corona it was quiet for three years in the recreational areas and on the edges of the city. Now, after a long period of disaster, the sector that is so vibrant in the Netherlands is getting going again. And we work with man and power to steer the major events in the right direction.
This is not easy everywhere: the infrastructure is cracking at the seams, also because a lot is suddenly being organised. Elton John played in the Gelredome in Arnhem on Thursday, we are waiting for the Rolling Stones in the Arena on Monday. And then Anouk will also play on Malieveld in The Hague on Saturday. And that while trains everywhere are canceled due to staff shortages – it does not help the realization of this festive opening weekend.
At a concert by the American band Red Hot Chili Peppers in Nijmegen it ran on Friday extremely stiff, according to the reports of visitors. In front of the entrance and ticket control at Goffertpark, through which 60,000 people had to be channeled, there were long lines that did not get shorter, so many people had to miss the start of the show. According to many waiters, several entrance gates were unmanned, causing the crowd to get stuck.
Shortage of everything
The staff shortage is a problem for the festivals: many employees in the sector, and for example in security services, have sought refuge elsewhere during the pandemic. There was also a shortage of everything when setting up the tent camps, festival director Maurits Westerik said in a statement de Volkskrant, before the start of the Hilvarenbeek festival Best Kept Secret. The delivery of materials, from portocabins to wooden decking, was difficult and the work on site had to be done with fewer personnel.
Fortunately, you will hardly notice that on Friday, at the start of the three-day Best Kept Secret at the recreation area at Beekse Bergen. The influx of the first tens of thousands of festival goers runs smoothly here. And there’s nothing wrong with the extensive grounds either: there’s plenty of space, including near the toilets and bars, where you don’t have to wait more than a minute for a drink. The festival is not sold out yet, which of course also saves waiting time.
The price of that drink, noted de Volkskrant last Friday, too, is substantial: 3.25 euros for a plastic cup of beer. Just like that of the ticket price, which has skyrocketed by tens of euros for Best Kept Secret. This is also a result of the pandemic: the costs for the festivals have risen alarmingly due to rising inflation and, for example, energy and fuel prices. So the ticket buyer has to take a bite out of his bank account.
Older audience
The high entrance and consumer prices also seem to influence the audience composition at Best Kept Secret. The average age of visitors is remarkably high, and young people in their twenties are by far in the minority. It may have to do with personal finances, but also possibly with the range of bands on Best Kept Secret. The big names on the bill, from Nick Cave to The Strokes, are of a certain age and the band Alt-J, which delivers a visually strong show on the main stage on Friday, is certainly no newcomer.
Nevertheless, you can find up-and-coming talent at Best Kept Secret; the Dutch band Pip Blom on Saturday, for example, singer Froukje or the Swedish pop singer Sigrid, and so on. In Hilvarenbeek, these artists will be looking at an audience twice or even three times their own age this weekend. It’s no different, it seems to be a new festival reality.
What connects all visitors, no matter how old, is the pleasure of the joint music experience, something that many enthusiasts have passionately missed in recent years. You notice that on a beautiful Friday at Beekse Bergen. When the sun peeks out from above a cloud, happy festival-goers jump, whether or not completely naked, in the puddle or in a silly swimming pool between the trees. And in the hangar-like rock hall Casbah, the first moshpit blows through the tent even before the first record has been set up. You remember why it was so much fun, and why we really can’t live without it, no matter how squeaky and creaking the machinery is moving this weekend.
