Image: Kerstin Reiter
You can still experience them, the days when you just feel good – without hassles, without stress, without problematic situations (and therefore without problematic men). The Rock im Dorf festival proved that.
But everything is at the beginning: At the beginning of the journey there are small “Rock im Dorf” signs with chalk arrows that guide you across the country through the Gugaruz. If you then still choose the more car-friendly supply road to the campsite, all obstacles are overcome. Surrounded by the foothills of the Alps and tall weeping willows, the terrain resembles a picturesque backdrop. On the one hand the caravan campers, on the other the classic campers with tent and pavilion. There is more than enough space, you can only stumble over the tent cords.
Around 1,500 visitors flock to the festival every day, an unrepresentative survey on the site suggests that quite a lot of people from the area visit the Rock im Dorf festival. “It’s close, it feels like everyone you know is there, the atmosphere is very familiar,” says Lea (18). Or as Lorenz (19) from Wartberg an der Krems puts it metaphorically: “I get drunk, let myself drift, I’m at home”. But if you think you only meet Upper Austrians, you are wrong. “We stumbled across it by accident and thought the line-up sounds good. It’s small, fine, totally peaceful, nobody is aggressive. And super organized and clean,” say Ella and Anna (both 38), from Graz.
You also come because you won’t find the event in its form a second time so quickly. “Music is cool, people are cool, prices are okay,” says Lois (19) from Tyrol. “It is not a matter of course that there is something cultural in our country,” says Felix (19) from Schlierbach. “Something is going on culturally” – Erich Pöttinger, director of the Rock-im-Dorf festival, big music fan and culture maniac, as he describes himself, knows what that means: “We don’t want you to always have to go to the city centre, to Linz or Vienna, to experience culture – namely away from the mainstream and customs, because that’s everywhere anyway. But there is hardly an alternative offer”.
A large main stage and the smaller “container stage”, which was practically enclosed by a steel container, formed the center of the musical performances. The festival kick-off on Friday lived up to the name “Rock im Dorf”. Anda Morts, newcomers from Linz, brought the “Linzer School”, as they said on stage, to Kirchdorf. What’s behind it is catchy indie punk singing about life in your mid-twenties. Texts about “empty bottles, used condoms”, they’ve been in the room since Friday and being angry, even if you don’t know who. The crowd was carried away, and the sound quality was also convincing.
Immediately afterwards, the Viennese rap duo EsRap could be seen on the main stage, these are the siblings Esra and Enes Özmen from Vienna-Ottakring, who sing about their home district, Vienna, and growing up with a migration background in their songs. Also from Vienna was the evening’s headliner, Eli Preiss, who just recently released her second album “bad”. bad – an acronym for “consciousness-building downs”, “because more consciousness arises from every low”, as she says herself. Their danceable sound is a fusion of hip-hop and RnB, their lyrics hit the nerve of the young generation, “You taste like beer and Tschick, Mariahilf, hand in hand, on the way to the tobacconist” it says in the song “Wein in Wien”. The second headliner of the evening were Frittenbude, their performance ended in a rousing, almost rave-like atmosphere with a tightly packed audience.
“We’ll tear up the shitty hits, the next song hates ‘Zötfest’,” says the lead singer of the quartet “Franz Fuexe” from the Mostviertel, who gave the rock and punk-affine audience a party on Saturday – politically incorrect, full of self-mockery and skillfully exaggerated dangerousness. “For an entry fee of twenty euros, you can let loose in the smoke of tens of thousands of Tschick / Nua fat Nazis eat the bread / d’Musi wake up, hot the needn vagessn / Zötfest, Zötfest / Ned with me! / Never more!” With titles like “KZ für Nazis”, “Everybody linksextrem” or “Hoid de goschn, Rapid spüd” they roared the audience in dialect at the wall, you found yourself in a charged crowd and wild moshpits (that’s what small circles in the audience are called, in which wild dancing, jumping and pushing, but without wanting to hurt).
There was plenty of room on the main stage for quieter, catchier music on Saturday night. The only 17-year-old FM4 award winner Oskar Haag was alone on the sunlit stage with his laptop, acoustic guitar and microphone. He and British artist Florence Arman created more contemplative moments, with lyrics about love, relationships, and one’s own emotions. The highlight of the festival on Saturday was the Austrian band Sharktank, who presented their brilliant mix of pop, rock and rap in a colorful show – with a roaring crowd, they were probably the most visited act at the festival. Anna Ullrich, one of the big names in the local techno scene, was at the DJ booth until 2 a.m. and brought the festival to an ecstatic conclusion.
“Because it’s not such a big festival yet, the feeling is much more personal, the encounters more intimate – I think it’s super cool when artists then look at other artists after their concerts and you can talk to them at eye level,” summarizes 19-year-old Livia.
Festival dedicated to youth
Aside from the music, there was a lot on offer, including festival yoga, chariot races, pub quizzes, beer pong tournaments and pole dance shows, luckily the weather cooperated. Culinary everything was available from meat to various vegan dishes. Of course, all of this only works because the festival, organized by the Rock im Dorf cultural association of the same name, relies on a large team of volunteers. “Without them it would never be possible, we have 150 to 180 people who help us every year and a really great community spirit,” says festival director Erich Pöttinger. If you look around, you’ll notice that the team includes both 15 and 60-year-olds, but most are schoolchildren. “In the team, we actually come from all over the place. Many young members of the association who are already studying in the city often take friends with them – for example, we have people from Vienna, Vorarlberg or Burgenland in the team,” says Livia.
It is also the schoolgirls who brought the Rock im Dorf festival to life, as Erich Pöttinger explains: “The first Rock im Dorf was a high school project in 2012. But then they got into the red and then said they would just found an association to make up for it again.”
All in all, viewed from the outside, the festival can definitely be described as smooth. At this point, however, a short anecdote for all those who believe in the good in people: As a festival photographer, please stow the camera in the car or backstage – not in the tent (which is admittedly not intelligent either, but youthful carelessness quickly gets in the way here). It was bitterly noticed on Saturday morning that the camera had made its way out of the tent (probably not voluntarily, on a dark night and still quite cold). What followed was a loud thought of “Why?” in an endless loop, expressions of grief from the camper next door, 15 minutes of gloom. Then: Said camper walks up, camera bag in hand, “I’m just looking around, the camera is just lying next to our garbage bags under the pavilion”. It must have been “unknown powers”, according to the hero (or thief?) of the day, “you can’t explain it”. All’s well that ends well. But please always lock the tent with a lock. So that unknown (probably drunk powers) have no chance.
On Sunday, the only thing left on the agenda is to take down the tents on the campsite, which has remained surprisingly clean. Speaking of clean: At this point, a song of praise for the toilets is obligatory. Before leaving the festival area, the last visit to the öKlos is also a pleasant experience, not once was there no toilet paper. In öKlos, the waste is covered with sawdust, there is a constant smell of wood – no comparison with conventional dixi toilet greyness. Early Sunday morning shopping is in full swing at the festival site, and the only option for festival-goers who have arrived is the way home – back through the Gugaruz, back to real life. It means waiting for next summer. After all, the memories bring more than anticipation.
Source: Nachrichten
