Newport Folk Fest has upheld many traditions in its 59 years: The all-night after-shows, the barely accessible location of Fort Adams, surprise guest singers, politically-charged covers, the list goes on. But since dubbing itself as America’s first modern music festival in 1959, Newport has established one tradition that sets it apart – being completely unexplainable. It’s not just the curators who push this narrative, it’s every fan whether they’ve been attending for fifty years or five. They all say the same thing: “This is the best weekend of the year.”
Artists, fans, and staff attend the fest, which has sold out months in advance every year since 2014, for all the same reasons. Capping at 10,000 people in the park per day, which makes Newport about eight times smaller than Bonnaroo, four times smaller than Boston Calling, and half the size of Pitchfork, the festival is able to achieve a sense of intimacy and exclusivity. Musicians and patrons alike relax and co-mingle, and according to the press info e-mail, no one breaks the sacred trust of the artist by putting them into uncomfortable situations. Obviously, fans are always stoked to see their fave artist, and most performances attract craning necks and a bit of friendly competition for a front row spot, but people are generally chill. So chill, in fact that folks like Courtney Barnett, Phoebe Bridgers, and Langhorne Slim were seen walking around without causing fans to swarm over the course of the weekend.
Simultaneously, Newport has the unique ability to draw internationally acclaimed artists to the bill. Hugely recognizable headliners like this year’s St. Vincent and Mumford & Sons were honored to play the relatively tiny fest, in part because it’s steeped in history. Artists and patrons both attend Newport with the electric Dylan controversy in mind. And when well-revered artists announce that they genuinely feel lucky to play, it elevates every set. There’s a sense of wonder created when fans can witness regional heroes like Philly’s Low Cut Connie or Boston’s own Darlingside and imagine them headlining the fest later down the line. It’s the juxtaposition of holding up popular performers like Brandi Carlile in the same hand as smaller acts like Bedouine that brings people back year after year.
Of course, any music festival worth going to will feature a good mix of artists. But who can say that in 2018, they saw Jenny Lewis perform 20 feet in front of them, all without assigned seats or the fear of losing a good spot? And moments later, on the same stage, to witness Glen Hansard go ham on traditional Irish folk music? Then, to later sing along to “Freedom Highway” with Brittany Howard, Leon Bridges, and Mavis Staples while the sun sets over the harbor? Only Newport attendees can.
It’s the music and the distinct sense of community that makes Newport Folk Fest pure without being purist. It would be cheesy if it weren’t so true. And recently, with the intentional inclusion of more artists who are people of color, women, and musicians who teeter the line of folk and other genres, Newport is reinventing a sacred, summer space and thereby fostering a new generation of Folk Fest fanatics. Find more photos from the magical weekend below.
