Coping With COVID: How BC Festivals Are Navigating Their Way Through the Global Pandemic

Photo by Mary Matheson Photography

Words by Hollie McGowan

Last week it became soberingly clear that BC festival season 2020 has officially been cancelled due to the COVID-19 pandemic when BC’s Provincial Health Officer, Dr. Bonnie Henry, announced to the public that large gatherings such as weddings, parades, and festivals “will not be happening this summer.”

“Our hearts sank,” says Oliver Ple, Director of Operations for Electric Love Music Festival. “We’ve been following the COVID-19 situation closely and tried to stay as positive as possible while preparing for the worst. This was our comeback year after taking a year off to secure a new home for Electric Love Music Festival.”

British Columbia has gained an international reputation as a hotspot for outdoor summer music festivals. With notable events such as Bass Coast Electronic Music and Arts Festival, Shambhala Music Festival, and Vancouver Folk Festival, people from around the globe flock to this area of the country to take part in a subculture that has become the pride and joy of many Western Canadians. 

Yet this summer, outdoor spaces such as the Salmo Ranch of the Kootenays, Jericho Beach Park of Vancouver, and the Nicola Valley of Merritt will be desolate and barren; a stark contrast to the vibrancy and electric energy that would normally be on in full force within these fields and forests.

“It’s 100% devastating,” states Carla Stephenson, Executive/Artistic Director of Tiny Lights Festival. The logistics of organizing such a large scale event are tremendously complex and expansive. Unravelling the intricate web of festival planning and preparation is no simple task. “Not only are we dependent on ticket sales, we’re also dependent on granting. Granting organizations don’t have all of their policies together if you have to cancel. If you have to postpone, do you have to give money back to the organizations? There’s a lot of question marks (in making) these decisions.” 

The headache of untangling and disengaging continues. 

“Any bigger name at a festival has likely been in contract (with the festival) already and (the festival) has paid half their fee upfront, so that’s an issue,” lists Stephenson. “And also all the infrastructure that we paid for and put deposits down on. And with the border being closed, so anybody coming from the U.S., that’s also a big concern. A lot of festivals that have a lot of international touring acts, they are dealing with this right now and to unravel that is really hard.”

The amount of planning and preparation that goes into one single week or weekend often takes a full year beforehand to coordinate and construct, an intense labor of love that Nickolas Collinet of Public Disco and the Vancouver Mural Festival understands all too well. “I’ve been working all year like so many other people on this thing that hasn’t happened yet. It’s hard to get through the off-season when you’re producing events for the spring/summer season, to find the energy to get through that. You really do rely on the energy of the people that you’re going to impact to keep pushing through the exhaustion needed to sustainably create art and culture in Vancouver. I really just felt defeated and scared because everything was lining up to be really awesome this year after a financial struggle last year.”

Appeasing ticket holders has also been an added stress in the unchartered waters of the COVID-19 pandemic for festival organizers. Many attendees are wanting their 2020 tickets refunded. Yet with funds already allocated within a tightly woven budget plan, organizers have been scrambling to come up with the best possible solutions that will please ticket holders while not going under financially and losing their festival entirely. This past few weeks have seen a number of festivals come up with a variety of options for their attendees to choose from. Shambhala and Tiny Lights, for example, are now offering their attendees a hold on their ticket which will be redeemable for the next three years. While Bass Coast is currently working out their ticket options, they have begun refunding certain extras such as volunteer deposits, vehicle passes, and reserved campsites. In addition, Bass Coast as well as others such as ArtsWells Festival of All Things Art and the Vancouver Folk Festival are offering ticket holders the option of donating their tickets back to the festival. The expense of a festival ticket can sometimes be high, but the costs of putting on large scale events such as these are astronomical. For BC festivals, the financial setback as a result of COVID-19 will be felt for years to come no matter what the solution may be. 

“The effects (that) this pandemic is having on all small and large independent festivals will have long lasting consequences,” explains Liz Thomson, co-founder and artistic director of Bass Coast. “We will all need substantial support from our community, our government and each other or it could be impossible for the festival industry to get back on line.” 

Some festivals rely on ticket sales and grants while others rely on corporate sponsorship. Both situations during the COVID-19 crisis now come with their own set of obstacles. For Collinet, being an organizer of events that are funded by sponsors has put him in a tough position of trying to come up with programming that could appease sponsors while maintaining his events’ mission and integrity. “So really we’re having to prove a whole new concept,” He says. “And I get it. I get that a brand wouldn’t want to give me $20,000 to an amazing two day virtual broadcast. So where we’re at is like, ok, can we pilot these initiatives? So that’s why (I’ve launched) an audiovisual broadcast series just funded (by myself) on youtube. We’re streaming a pre-recorded audiovisual performance from a local artist with a local DJ performing original content so we can throw it up on youtube and not get caught for copyright infringement.” 

New initiatives can be fun and exciting, but they also require a whole new way of strategic thinking and planning. “So I’m like, OK, I’ll self fund it so that I can just try and experiment which it's a really fun and exciting time to be doing that,” illustrates Collinet. “But it's also about the challenges about figuring out that kind of technology and doing it right to the level of production we are known for and would want to create.”

With its place firmly lodged in the fabric of British Columbian society, BC festival culture also provides many artists, musicians, and vendors of all kinds with a steady summer income. 

“There are many consequences that ripple through our community,” says Ple. “Festivals are a huge source of annual revenue for our artists, production teams, suppliers and vendors. We rely on them and they rely on us. These are relationships that we have been building for years and we care deeply about their wellbeing. We are currently working to develop some additional revenue streams using our online platforms and hope to include as many of these companies as possible.”

Yet despite the devastation, there is still light that has potential to begin shining through the cracks. As a result of the global pandemic, BC festivals have started gathering forces and creating an alliance which has already begun strengthening their ties.  

“We went through an entire checklist and developed a tool to help other festivals,” explains Stephenson. Being one of the first festivals to cancel their event earlier in the crisis, Tiny Lights immediately began spearheading a new movement, creating a coalition among the BC festival community. “We went through every process of what we did and then we documented it all, and then we released a package for other festivals so they could do their own evaluations of what could happen as things unfolded. So there’s been a lot of solidarity between all kinds of festivals.”

Before too long, the British Columbia Music Festival Collective was developed among curators of BC festivals. With over 60 independent music festivals associated with the organization, the British Columbia Music Collective now represents events of all sizes and in every geographical region of the province.

“The British Columbia Music Festival Collective was created on April 1st and we are honoured to be involved,” tells Ple. “The group is composed of 60 plus small and large festivals from all regions of BC to create transparency and dialogue between the festival community. This has been a great resource for us and we look forward to working on solutions and supporting one another on the road to our future large gatherings.” 

“(COVID-19) has come with many challenges that every festival is working day and night to understand and find solutions for,” says Thomson. “We share our thoughts not only with each other, but new relationships have been forming. In many ways this is bringing the industry together and fostering transparency and trust between events.”

Aside from the newly formed affinity between BC festivals, there are also other glimmers of hope and positivity that are beginning to radiate as the festival community continues to move through the crisis.  

Through his new audiovisual broadcast series, Collinet is discovering that he is developing new skills and ideas to possibly utilize for his events and others in the future. “It’s figuring out whole new channels, mediums, formats to produce. It’s realizing that we have transferable skills. I can be a media producer, not just an event producer. And ya it’s still a virtual event, but streaming video technology, it takes it to a whole different level of production.”

“There are creative opportunities in all moments of change,” shares Thomson. “I have never seen so many people sharing their creative work with others. The virtual world is open to all artists to create and share and grow together. The music and art that has already emerged from this crisis is a positive achievement we should all be incredibly excited about.”

“This pandemic is going to change how we connect with people,” Collinet adds. “But we can still use our means to do that, it's just going to be a shift in format for now. And as a result there will be new things that we realize are really cool. And I’m excited and confident about that.”

The amount of live streaming and sharing of various art mediums through the internet since the onslaught of the global lockdown has been nothing short of monumental. Online platforms such as Twitch and Zoom are no longer just for fun, they have become crucial lifelines of support. People from around the globe have continued connecting despite all odds which points not only to the remarkable human capacity to develop ways of overcoming obstacles, but also to the human need for connection, particularly in times of stress and uncertainty. Yet, although these channels of virtual networking and connecting have helped ease the burdens of loneliness and distress, nothing beats the real physical human connection and the feeling of being submersed in a crowd. That is, afterall, a major aspect of what draws people to festivals in the first place.  

“We’re doing this cause it makes people feel connected,” explains Collinet. “Like I’m dancing on Zoom with my friends or in Club Quarantine and I’m having fun, but it’s not that collective release and collective movement and energy that you get in person. There is a reason that is so powerful and I think that a lot of people are going to jump right back in there because they need that, they know how good it makes them feel.” 

Although this summer’s festival plans have now been cancelled, outdoor spring/summer festival season will resume again in the future. After the dangerous waters of COVID-19 have resided, we will once again be able to gather, dance, hug, and be around one another without fear or hesitation. Yet in the meantime, every challenge gives us the chance to reflect and learn something new about ourselves. These lessons provide us with opportunities of growth so that we may come out even stronger and more resilient than before. 

In her time thus far, Stephenson has already begun realizing just how vital her festival is within her own community of Ymir, BC where Tiny Lights is held annually. “What is important is to document what is being lost. And so what’s being lost, I can just talk about (in regards to) our own festival, is that we did a lot of advocacy for the LGBTQ2S population. So for a rural community, we did all this stuff about bringing people together and having authentic experiences around inclusivity and diversity and what that did for our community as a whole is so important. To be able to be in a space with people that are different from you, and you are able to have experiences with them, and (then to) bring (that experience) to rural communities has been a huge thing. And so the loss of that, I feel like I’m mourning it. And the loss of our youth program. So the inability to come together like that, the impact, we don’t even understand yet.”

Beyond the sheer silliness and fun that abounds throughout festival campgrounds, these large scale gatherings also help to foster community spirit which attendees value as a fundamental part of their experience. In addition, the celebration, recognition, and promotion of art and music through each and everyone of these festivals is vital.

“I would love to see that be more of a universal realization,” reflects Collinet. “Cause I don’t think it is. I still don’t think people in power or the general public realize why it's so important to come together around art and music and culture. So, how (COVID-19 is) going to change us? I mean, it's going to make us all more resilient and we’re all going to have better contingency plans. I think it’s just going to make everyone stronger. And I’m trying to get to a place where I can be at peace with that, with letting go of what would have been, could have been this year, and more so just being open to whatever events we can all do (while in isolation this summer).” 

There is no question that the COVID-19 pandemic will leave its mark on the BC festival community. Yet, we have already begun to see that when faced with a catastrophe, human beings, more often than not, tend to come together to find solutions and various ways of helping one another. Though they have been hit hard, the BC festival community is strong. In the coming years, this province will witness the resiliency of such an important subculture and the continuation of its existence. 

In her interview, Stephenson ended with a quote; an offering of hope in troubling times that had been passed on by a friend within her own community after coming to terms with this summer’s fate. “I have to continue to believe in and remember the reasons we created these events and happenings and that somehow the ancestors will support and navigate the way. I think of the times our people were banned from gathering, ceremony and potlatch, and how they got through generations of it somehow with them still somehow intact. Somehow, someway my son still did a dance that hadn’t been seen by some elders since they were children, at the potlatch on toquaht territory, where one hasn’t been in some hundreds of years. This may be a far reach, but it gives me strength.”