Curiosity Roving : V.3 : Skies and Sounds
Curiosity Roving
The Grand Adventures of Rose Goossen
V.3 : Skies and Sounds
in which our hero makes the most of the best of the prairies
____________________________________________
Greetings and Salutations!
And welcome to the third issue of Curiosity Roving. For new subscribers, a special howdy-do. This newsletter is an ongoing experiment in lived experience and the ways in which it can be represented by the written word. I will tell you stories, give you tips, and offer select brain foods, which you may or may not choose to consume. Thanks for joining the ride.
Since my last note, which might have reached you around the time of the summer solstice, I have traversed vast Canadian territory with the help of many other people who own motorized vehicles, mostly for the purpose of attending music festivals. One thousand words is hardly sufficient to communicate the bounty of the prairies in peak summertime, but I will do my best to compress my impressions without compromising their colours.
yep, that's SaskatchewanLet's start with geography. A prairie is a variety of grassland, and locally, this terminology refers to the great flat plains in the southern central part of Canada, which is divided into the provinces of Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and Alberta. The region comprises about two thousand square kilometres of resource-rich territory, currently occupied by field crops, oil sands, little towns, and big skies. It is some of the oldest land on our planet, with bedrock that was formed more 2.3 billion years ago in a geologic event known as 'the big squeeze'. A great many dinosaurs still sleep beneath the windswept expanses of wheat, canola, and flax. It has served as a seabed several times throughout the Earth's history, and if we look at the current trend of rising sea levels, it is reasonable to imagine that the prairie region could again be underwater someday.
yep, that's ManitobaMost people will tell you that the prairies are boring, but anyone who says this has not been looking up. The flatness of this land lends so much drama to the skies. We can observe the curvature of the earth reflected in the clouds as they bend toward the distant horizon. The angle of the sun at this northern latitude creates colours and shadows and all manner of gilded shapes that endure and shift for hours each morning and evening. It is not unusual to watch a thunderstorm approach, live through it, and then come out the other side and watch it go to rain on someone else's parade, hopefully with a bit of a rainbow or two as a parting gift. In my opinion, it's way better than Netflix.
I crossed the prairies twice this season. From my family's home in Manitoba, I traveled west to Calgary to participate in a musical event called Frog Fest, and then I zipped right back for a funky sort of family reunion at the Winnipeg Folk Festival. These gatherings are important to me, so I go to some lengths - literally more than three thousand kilometres - in order to enjoy them.
and that's definitely my turfMusic festivals are among the things that Canada does well. We have a short season during which it is comfortable to attend outdoor events, so we make good use of it. There is a special alchemy that happens when the timing of a performance, the movement of the light, the atmosphere of a community, and the feeling of a place are all just right. I usually find a way to make myself useful at a festival, and I learn a lot from the technicians, volunteers, dancers, performers, and staff.
This year's Frog Fest was the tenth edition of the event. I have a special connection to this gathering and its organizers because I wound up at Year One in 2010 quite by chance and circumstance, and it's been fun to watch the festival grow and improve since then. The beginnings were humble. There wasn't much of a schedule; either bands were playing or they weren't. There were no more than fifty people in attendance. I ran a trading post, told fortunes, distributed costumes, and played a trumpet. The stage didn't yet have a roof or railings, but thankfully only one person succeeded in falling off of it.
home, home on the lilypadNow, Frog Fest boasts two fully stacked stages, a shed packed with lampshades, giant eyeballs, and other art installations that are hauled out and into the forest every year, workshops in everything from aromatic mists to ecstatic dance, and a head count that runs up to three hundred. Most importantly, they have a community of people like me who make an effort to get there, because they know it's going to be the best time. The acts and attendees generally hail from Calgary or Edmonton, but every year a few come from further-flung environs.
home, home on the rangeThe Winnipeg Folk Festival is a much larger organism which is now in its 46th year. The program is approximately half Canadian acts and half international influence. There are six stages active during the day, and two at night. It's attended by more than seventy thousand people, supported by about three thousand volunteers. My parents have always worked at this event, so I think of it as my mothership, and it is a family affair. We used to do a lot of bonding at the face-painting station, but these days the tavern gets priority.
saturday nightThe Folk Fest has also done a commendable job in keeping up with growth. They provide compostable cups and cutlery, they feed the volunteers three times a day, there are showers, water taps, and hammocks installed all over the site, and even with tens of thousands of people in attendance, it's not that hard to find a secret corner when you need to. My family is not unique in our intergenerational approach to the weekend; grandparents, parents, and children are in evidence everywhere, and it is very sweet. The festival leadership is defined by a strong matriarchy, and successorship is one of their priorities, so it all stays in the family.
monday mornDespite the differences in location, history, purpose, and scale, the essence of these two events is exactly the same. I love music festivals for the sense of community and playfulness that emerges when you have a group of people out in nature together, with nothing to do but discover music, enjoy each others' company, and endure the elements.
Well, shoot, that's my word count! I didn't even get to tell you about hitchhiking, social credit, cultural engineering, my brief stint as a local buccaneer, all the roadside attractions and local slang, or how tempted I was to run off and marry the boy I fell in love with fifteen years ago. Oh well. Thanks again for your kind attention. I'll be on my way to the Wild West by next week, so there is much more to come. I hope you're enjoying these monthly updates, and I welcome your correspondence at any time, for any reason.
Until next time, stay curious. -- Rose
Appendix : Musical Selections For Your Googling Pleasure
Bella White - whip-smart charmer with a voice somewhere between black coffee and buttercups
Tim Baker - Newfie songsmith serving equal parts pure love and total agony - try 'Two Mirrors'
Mark Mills - one-man boy band, serenader of the silver fox and the lady in red
Rebirth Brass Band - Grammy-winning assembly of wind power from New Orleans
Rebirth Brass Band - Grammy-winning assembly of wind power from New Orleans
Hawksley Workman - beloved Canadian songwriter with a hyper-nostalgic new album
The Torchettes - three bonafide witches who will steal your soul and shove it down their leather pants
Begonia - hectic diva when she sings, perfect millennial comedian between songs
Larkin Poe - gritty blues, sister act, actual descendants of Edgar Allen
The Lone Bellow - three singers, two instruments, one microphone, and perfect balance, somehow
Don't miss what's next. Subscribe to Curiosity Roving: