While concertgoers descend on outdoor events, the people behind the country’s biggest music gatherings are dealing with a long list of anxieties — from travel delays to COVID-19 illnesses — that have made putting on a festival even more hectic, expensive and unpredictable. Todd Jenereaux, executive vice president of Republic Live, said it’s impossible to contain his concerns ahead of the Boots & Hearts country music festival in Oro-Medonte, Ont., on Aug. 4. He’s confident the weekend will go smoothly, but getting to showtime won’t be easy. “Things are as worrying from an industry perspective as they were during it [height of the] pandemic, it’s just different,” he said. “It’s not like a normal year. Our struggles were all things we’ve never faced before.”

“Fight to find solutions”

In recent weeks, festival leaders have come together via text and phone calls to share the obstacles to running a successful event in 2022. They talked about rising costs linked to inflation, issues with supplying stage equipment and a lack of experienced workers. Every music festival has its own unique mix of problems to overcome, but common among them is the fear that something will stop the top performers from taking the stage. That’s what happened to the Bass Coast electronic music festival in Merritt, BC, earlier this month when flight delays left half of their Sunday lineup stranded. Despite having a contingency plan in place that called for musicians to arrive a day early, about seven acts were stuck at airports before showtime, festival co-founder Andrea Graham said. “Flights were completely canceled or postponed to another day, which really doesn’t work if you’re playing that night,” he said. “We had to struggle to find solutions, like picking them up in other cities (with drivers).” Bass Coast Electronic Music Festival in Merritt, BC, held July 8-11. (Joey Rootman Photography/Bass Coast Festival) The emergency backup plan worked. Only one of the acts didn’t make it in time, he said. And yet, that hasn’t necessarily ensured other music festivals on the calendar.

The “Roll-with-the-punches” kind of world.

Talal Farisi, who helps organize the Veld Music Festival in Toronto, recently called a private jet company, putting them on alert for the weekend of his event. “I said, ‘Listen, I have a very good piece of advice for you. Try to have some planes on standby … there’s Lollapalooza, Osheaga and Veld all on the same weekend, in the same area,” he said. “I was thinking about it with Air Canada … we’re aware of the delays and that’s a very big issue.” The Veld Music Festival will be held in Toronto from July 29 to 31. (Veld Music Festival/Facebook) Elsewhere, musicians help in the worst situations. At Calgary’s Sled Island festival in June, a case of COVID-19 left the bassist of Los Angeles rock trio La Luz unable to perform, so Jenni Roberts of Edmonton band Faith Healer stepped in as a replacement. Other events have not been so lucky with COVID. The Regina Folk Festival announced earlier this month that Buffy Sainte-Marie has canceled her Aug. 6 concert after contracting the virus. “We’re in a much more ‘roll with the punches’ world,” said Nick Farkas, co-founder of Montreal’s Osheaga Music and Arts Festival, which kicks off later this month. “Everyone has MacGyvering solutions to make sure everything happens.” Lethbridge, Alta., post-punk band Body Lens perform during the Sled Island Music and Arts Festival in Calgary on June 23. (Oseremen Irete/CBC)

Lack of workers

Some of the obstacles are easier to fix than others, said the executive at concert promoter Evenko, which also runs the Montreal Jazz Festival. For example, a lack of workers can throw everything out of balance. A few years ago a festival might hire 50 people to move equipment, but now only 40 will be available. “Does that mean those 40 people have to work harder, later and longer hours — and will they come back the next morning?” he said. “I hear it all over North America, that’s the reality right now. The unemployment rate is extremely low and it’s harder to attract and keep people engaged.” The Montreal Jazz Festival often sees crowds of over 100,000 peacefully gathered downtown. (Radio-Canada) Think of any music festival as a duck swimming in a pond, suggested Farkas, who recently heard the comparison from a colleague. On the surface, the duck appears calm, cool and collected, but underwater, the animal “kicks like hell” to get going. “That’s what’s going on in our production and creative teams right now,” Farkas said. “Our people are very used to trying to find solutions… and unfortunately, this year, the problems are more than ever.”

Inflationary pressures

However, not everything can be contained below the surface. Several festivals say inflationary pressures, combined with high demand for trailers and dressing room tents, have sent costs skyrocketing. Debbi Salmonsen, artistic director at the Vancouver Folk Festival, said that in British Columbia many industries — music festivals, film production companies and developers of the Trans Mountain pipeline — are vying for the same equipment. “We’re talking fences, tents, equipment, backline (aka concert gear), porta-potties. You know, all the things you need to have a safe event,” he said of organizing the festival in mid-July. “Nothing has stagnated – some things are up 75 percent, some things are up 10 percent.” Debbi Salmonsen, artistic director at the July 15-17 Vancouver Folk Festival, says competition from various industries for equipment to make the venue safe has driven up equipment prices. (Allison Dempster/CBC) How festivals handle these higher costs varies. Some have raised ticket prices, while others say the surge in inflation came after tickets were sold, making it nearly impossible to adjust their packages. “You have two choices: either deliver a really good festival or cut a lot of costs and the customer will feel it,” said Farisi, who oversees Veld as an executive at event organizer Ink Entertainment. Festivals that focus on the bottom line at the expense of the experience will “pay for it” once word of mouth spreads and ticket sales start to drop a few years later, Farisi said. So this year, the organizers added an extra day to the line-up, which allowed more tickets to be sold and the cost to be spread over a longer period of time. That strategy has paid off, Farisi said, as young people who were 17 at the start of the pandemic are turning 19 and ready to party. “We had our best year yet,” he said. “There’s a pent-up demand; there’s a need for people to come back together. You can’t deny the human instinct to come together and that’s really what festivals are about.”