Whose responsibility is it to keep a festival going? Is it the dream of individuals, or the commitment of a whole community? These were the questions floating around my head as I left AnExperience Festival this year – a lovingly chaotic, beautifully imperfect gathering that feels like it’s still forming itself, with all of us shaping it as we go.
ALL PHOTO CREDITS - ElLLIOT HINGSTON
Let’s be honest: putting on a festival in this climate is a huge risk. The pandemic may be behind us, but the economics of grassroots events haven’t got any easier, particularly when combined with the huge spike in the cost of living for everyone. With corporate sponsors like the American titans Live Nation increasingly dominating the space, what Kesh is doing - pushing forward with an independent vision, with community at its core - is nothing short of brave.
While the festival may not have run flawlessly, its rough edges are what make it real. It's not a polished brand campaign masquerading as a music festival; it’s a living, breathing experiment in connection and community building.
But experiments, by their very nature, often require repetition and a certain level of trial-and-error to get things right.
One of the central questions that emerged for me was around sustainability—not just environmental, but emotional and financial. Kesh has been very open that he’s not a businessperson but a party person living out a dream. And that’s exactly the kind of spirit that gives AnExperience its magic. But when you’re scaling up to a larger site, with a bigger crew and more infrastructure, some form of strategic thinking becomes essential. Who decides where the budget goes? Who gets a say in the planning? How do you balance spontaneity with structure, community with control?
There’s been a call for fundraising to cover this year’s losses, and it's worth asking: is crowdfunding the same as corporate sponsorship? While both are about raising money, the former retains the festival’s independent ethos, keeping it grounded in the community rather than shaped by outside interests. But with that comes the need for transparency and dialogue—inviting the community to help shape not just the party, but its foundations.
That said, the spirit of AnExperience was alive and well across the weekend. Witnessing a pair of green aliens playing squelchy extra-terrestrial rhythms while a dinosaur trailer shuttled on by blaring tunes was a standout joy. Settling down at the main stage to experience warming, tear-jerking live music from around the globe was beautiful, combined with the gritty punk charm of Vegan Meat Raffle provided a nice contrast. And, of course, getting locked into the Ruffage stage pumping jungle brought me back to those gritty nights at the Black Swan in Bristol. These little moments of magic -unexpected, oddball, and joyous - are where the festival really shines.
However, other elements felt a bit more spaced out, both physically and energetically. The larger site meant there was always room to dance (a rare and welcome contrast to the traffic-light-led-sardine-packed chaos of Glastonbury), but it also meant that intimacy sometimes felt lost. The festival site itself felt way more spread out, and with a largely Bristol-based crowd, at times it was easy to fall into the fold of familiar faces. That said, it's pretty much impossible not to make new friends at AnExperience due to the acute fluidity of the curated space, similar to the intimacy of last year's Fairly Feral Fable.
Could more interactive elements help improve this? A pool tournament, a swingball setup, or even Scouse Max’s pub quiz. They’re tiny things, but they can spark unexpected conversations and crossovers and are by no means trivial. The cardboard stone circle, despite looking a bit worse for wear by Sunday (much like the bogs), is a good example of this spirit: low-budget, high-impact social architecture.
The Boozer, too, deserves praise. In a festival setting that can easily skew overwhelming (especially for us introverts), this touch point of real-world familiarity of your local pub became something more meaningful: a reminder that escapism doesn’t always mean leaving the world behind, as Kesh would say. Sometimes it means reimagining how we connect with things we already know and love.
It's worth nothing that, at times, accessibility and inclusion were not always evenly felt. The crew party on Sunday night (unbeknown to Kesh and who sends his apologies), for instance, caused a bit of tension in separating the crew from punters when the music ended at 10.30, though it didn't stop people making percussive instruments or banging on the pool tables to keep the party going. While it’s understandable that the crew fully deserve to celebrate after months of hard work, I wonder if there's a way to honour the crew while also maintaining the momentum for everyone else?
In reflection, Kesh says that: "The way the crew party was executed was definitely a mistake. We were trying to do something nice for the crew who have been working so hard for months. I now see that the way it was designed caused a segregation which is completely against the point of AnExperience and that was never the intention. Hands up, we made a mistake and it was a short sighted decision. We never meant to upset anybody and we’re really sorry if people felt left out. I didn’t make it to the crew party myself as I was out cold in my caravan.
We’ve learned so many lessons for the future, this felt like an unimportant decision but has actually upset people, really sorry if this pissed you off and I understand why it would."
Musically, though, the ethos was spot on. There were no ego-trips behind the decks, no ‘look at me’ DJ sets disconnected from the energy on the dancefloor. The boundary between party-thrower and party-goer felt refreshingly blurred, as it always does at Kesh’s parties. That sense of shared intention of playing for people, not at them, is increasingly rare in a scene obsessed with profile-building and social media clout in the hope of ‘making it.’
Ultimately, AnExperience isn’t finished - and maybe that’s the point. It’s not a fully-formed product, but a collaborative process. And, most importantly, it's a sacred community. Kesh and the crew are still learning, and if that openness to feedback continues, the festival will evolve into something increasingly beautiful. We’re all lucky to be part of it at this early stage and with the opportunity to help shape what it becomes.
Here's our experience of AnExperience Festival:
Many thanks to Kesh and all of the crew for putting on such a heartwarming festival, and here’s hoping it returns next year!
You can donate to keep the party going here:
https://www.gofundme.com/f/operation-save-anexperience-festival/topdonations
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these beautiful photos are by ElLLIOT HINGSTON.