There’s no such tune as a black tune.
There’s no such tune as a white tune.
There’s only music, brother,
and it’s music we are going to sing
where the rainbow ends.
Folkest is a frontier festival, and its artistic choices have always been guided by these boundaries. Borders are intersections of paths, a hybrid exchange of narratives, a place where sea and land merge, sometimes yielding unexpected treasures or the remains of immense shipwrecks.
If borders divide, carefully planned, imposed by treaties and sealed by seals, artificial and therefore always difficult to bear, arbitrary and chaotic, borders, on the contrary, shuffle the cards, hybridize accents, alter grammars. The land, with its diversity, offers scents and stimuli: stone, wood, and climate know no limitations imposed by international diplomacy, as do the aromas of kitchens, the color of dishes, the wisdom of making passed down from generation to generation, drawing the same resources from pastures, woods, and gardens, on both sides of a human-imposed border. And music!