Woodstower, Les Scènes sauvages, Ciné-Jardins… Ten festivals that are resisting the crisis

In the picturesque setting of the Creuse Valley, in the heart of the romantic Berry region so dear to George Sand, Gargilesse-Dampierre (Indre) has been celebrating the repertoire – classical, jazz, traditional, and world music – for the harp for fifty-eight years. Kicking off with a highly anticipated "trad ball," the Gargilesse Summer Festival, founded by the iconic harpist Pierre Jamet, is distinguished by its welcoming atmosphere, which attracts a diverse audience.

Every summer, enthusiasts and seasoned musicians mingle with the uninitiated, sharing the same desire to have a good time in this small "commune of character," ranked among the most beautiful villages in France, where many painters, sculptors, and visual artists have settled year-round. The "Aperos après concerts," launched in 2012, represent moments of exchange as appreciated by the artists as by the public. With modest means (less than €50,000 for seven concerts), Anne Ricquebourg, the artistic director, has cultivated the spirit of conviviality that has animated the event since its creation.

Initially, there was the ambitious idea of ​​a troupe of Strasbourg actors to offer readings and then plays in the Bruche Valley, a hilly and deindustrialized region, about fifty kilometers from Strasbourg. For its seventh edition, at the end of June, the Les Scènes sauvages festival presents plays, readings and a workshop, outside of traditional venues. Faced with a budget 30% lower than last year, this edition owes a lot to its local volunteers, admits its director, Charles Zévaco. "We want it to continue," maintains Brigitte Hazemann, one of the oldest volunteers and a resident of a village in the valley. Proof that the festival brings life to this area lacking professional theater offerings.

The small troupe of actors thus relies on the local pool to identify farms where they can present their shows, and to share "feedback from the people of the valley" on the programming or the best way to address them. Faced with increasing financial "struggles," these local volunteer residents are also called upon to offer accommodation to the visiting troupes, to do the shopping or cooking for the actors or the audience after the performances, in order to reduce costs. This is the mission of a "small group" of about ten "young retirees" from the valley who are increasingly helping out as the years go by and as difficulties arise. This year, they are leading committees to organize accommodation, on-site signage, and catering.

Brigitte Hazemann thus oversees the "circle of hosts." This reception of professional actors is the occasion for a "meeting between two worlds ," relates Christine Ungerer, hostess and volunteer in the kitchen as well as behind the counter. We discover what it is to be an actor," she explains: their precariousness, their failures and successes, or even the rhythm of touring. A privileged contact with the world of entertainment, to which Brigitte Hazemann adds another equally exciting experience: "Meeting people from our valley."

Maintaining a "human-sized" capacity to "pamper" festival-goers and artists is the DNA of the Atom Festival, fueled by artists from hybrid genres, mixing music, visual arts, scenography and performances in a natural setting. Held every two years in the Aude region since 2018, in the village of Payra-sur-l'Hers, in the heart of the Lauragais region, between Toulouse and Carcassonne, this biennial, born from the dream of a few teenagers who have grown up, welcomes 1,400 festival-goers over three days. A limited capacity, by choice.

When the entire population was confined in 2020 due to Covid, the members of the organizing association took the opportunity to conduct a deep reflection in order to define the identity of the festival. "How many people do we have as a group? How can we make everyone feel part of what is happening in this place, for the duration of the event, without being just a consumer? ", asked the festival collective before making this decision of a limited number of participants. "This allows us to create more qualitative moments, to take care of the public and the artists , " explains Luna Luminet, co-programmer. "A festival is an ephemeral society ," adds Pablo Belime, the public relations manager. Not increasing the gauge is for us a commitment and not a constraint."

At the Atom Festival, run by more than 200 volunteers, the program is designed like a work of art. 70% of the projects presented this year are less than five years old, 63% are led by women, and 60% come from the Occitanie region. "Financially, each edition is a huge risk," says Pablo Belime, who points out that ticket sales represent 70% of the budget. "We develop other cultural projects throughout the year, in parallel, within the festival territory," he adds. A viable economic model, a human-sized capacity, properly paid artists, and accessibility for local residents: a winning combination!

Xavier Laune isn't feeling the blues at all, despite the tight budget for the Bluesin'(a)out Festival 2025, which will take place in the magnificent setting of the Chartreuse de Neuville-sous-Montreuil. While he had to increase the prices for both evenings due to a drop in funding from the Pas-de-Calais department and the region, this passionate blues harmonica player has spared no effort, supported by around thirty volunteers, to put together an edition full of new features: an additional band on both evenings, an expanded program for young audiences, and an incentive to carpool to reduce the transport budget and act ecologically.

Notice to cars with at least four participants: "We will offer them a quality keychain, made of wood or metal, in the shape of a harmonica created for the event," says the founder of the Bluesin'(a)out Festival. A recyclable keychain that the public will also be able to buy on site to help the festival's organizing association, Chickasaw, named after an Indian tribe that lived in Memphis, which became the cradle of the blues.

"Without the town hall, the festival would not exist ," assures Jean-Michel Bovy, president of the association Chant libre, organizer of Barjac m'en chante. "Like the history of the Cévennes, we are a festival that resists." For its 30th edition, this event dedicated to song lyrics, in a village of 1,600 inhabitants at the foot of the Cévennes, can, this year again, rely on funds from the municipality, whose subsidy remains constant, year after year, at €30,000, while the others fluctuate.

The communist mayor, Édouard Chaulet, has made culture a political choice for the past six terms. "We are lucky to still be standing, but it is also a risk. If the mayor does not run again, everything may stop," acknowledges artistic director Julie Berthon, who has had to compose her program "with an overall reduction in funding of 5 to 10%" from other communities and patrons. While this municipal subsidy seems essential, in addition to the provision of municipal staff and six venues, the festival can also count on a loyal audience - ticket sales represent 60% of the budget - and on around sixty volunteers.

They say you know your friends in times of adversity. Street Art Fest now knows it can count on its own. Created in 2015, the event celebrates urban art by inviting artists from around the world to brighten up the streets of Grenoble with their murals and by offering the general public live creations and exhibitions, 100% free. Led by the SpaceJunk art center and fiercely committed to its independence, the event has built a vast network of local patrons and partners, while public funding only accounts for 15% of its budget.

But in 2024, the metropolis and the city suddenly drew a line under more than €50,000, precipitating a cash flow crisis and the layoff of several employees... The only solution to avoid disappearing: launch a fundraising campaign. "It's in times like these that we're proud of having built a loyal and passionate audience!" confides Jérôme Catz, president of the association. Because it only took a few weeks to raise €40,000 and imagine another edition in 2025, albeit on a smaller scale. "We knew it, but this year is a turning point: faced with the scarcity of public money, it's urgent to reinvent ourselves," believes the manager of this open-air museum, who is already thinking about continuing the appeal for donations for years to come.

This summer, La Tournée des villages celebrates its 20th anniversary. The principle? A troupe of actors sets up and folds down a theater stage and its temporary refreshment bar every evening in a square or park in a rural community. Until now, this open-air theater festival had continued to invest in new corners of the Pays de la Loire region each year. But the total withdrawal of its regional subsidy for 2026 (€165,000 in 2024 and €137,500 this year) will abruptly halt this momentum.

Starting this summer, the festival is scaling back, with 61 performances instead of 70, and will end in August instead of September. Another decision: admission prices – chosen by spectators according to their resources – are increasing from €4, €8, or €12 to €5, €10, or €15. "I'm still struggling to accept it," says actor and director Camille de La Guillonnière, director of the Théâtre régional des Pays de la Loire (TRPL), for whom accessibility to shows is the cornerstone of his commitment. A donation box will also be set up, for the first time, during the festival. "It reminds me of the early days of the troupe, when we played with a hat," he continues. "Many of our shows tell the story of how money rules the world, and that catches up with us in real life."

This summer, the company will perform two plays with radically different tones. The first, L'Hôtel du libreéchange , will immerse spectators in the comic genius of Georges Feydeau and his stories of adultery. The second, Les Midinettes , features five workers who occupy their factory to keep their jobs and their dignity. A creation by Jacques Hadjaje, actor of the TRPL, directly in touch with current events. In Cholet (Maine-et-Loire), where this theater company is based, the announced closure of the Michelin factory affects no fewer than 955 employees.

Next year, the TRPL, which will remove the regional term from its name, plans to lay off three out of five permanent staff and halve everything: number of shows, villages involved... "We will give up going to meet spectators in Sarthe and Mayenne, because it will be too far away," regrets Camille de La Guillonnière, whose former troupe, founded in 2006, had a premonitory name: "The Weather is Uncertain, but We Still Play!"

Budget cut or not, the Ciné-Jardins festival is out of the question for throwing in the towel. After ten years of existence, this "free, traveling, and eco-conscious" event is banking on its ecological DNA to continue to thrive. The idea? To screen films (documentaries, animation, feature-length fiction) outdoors, in natural spaces in the city, and engage the audience in a discussion about the living world.

An environmental commitment that has been present from the beginning and is proving invaluable in these uncertain budgetary times. To compensate for the decline in subsidies, a growing portion of revenue is generated by films from La Fabrique documentaire, the association behind the festival. "We have to be creative to ensure a financial balance between the public and private sectors," explains its co-founder Benjamin Bibas. "But the energy invested in seeking additional funding is diverted from the actual organization of the festival, and it's not an inexhaustible resource! " While waiting for better days, the passion of this small team undoubtedly remains Ciné-Jardins' greatest asset.

The poster initially raised eyebrows among regulars. The iridescent illustration chosen to announce the 2025 edition of Woodstower is gone, with no more flip-flops, no more parasols, no more swimsuits. The big top is there, as are the bunting and the canvas deck chairs, but on the horizon, the beach has been replaced by... the skyscrapers of the Part-Dieu. Established for more than a quarter of a century on the shores of Lake Miribel, north of Lyon, this major music festival has taken on a challenge: to get its audience dancing in Gerland Park, right in the middle of the city . "The beginning of a new and beautiful chapter!" hopes Maxime Nolly, its president. Because for his small association that supports the event, moving is in fact the only way to ensure a future.

Since the health crisis, the festival has faced a drop in attendance, rising fees, climatic hazards, not to mention the sudden withdrawal of €40,000 of regional aid , leading to immense financial difficulties until the safeguard procedure. To bounce back, the solution is radical: sacrifice the site of Miribel, an iconic green setting "but isolated, where everything had to be put in place, from lighting to security, including shuttles." Setting up in an urban park allows for maintaining a large capacity – around 35,000 people over four days – while saving on technical and logistical costs.

While the idea may unsettle some, already nostalgic for the beach and camping, it seems to appeal to the people of Lyon: "We have a good sales rate, it's probably because we're better served and the new thing piques curiosity," says Maxime Nolly, who is also counting on the change of dates, mid-July rather than the end of August – competition between local festivals is less fierce there – and some great headliners like Polo and Pan, Chinese Man, and Rilès . Reduced but invigorated, the team intends to seize every opportunity offered by this new environment: "All our neighbors are potential new partners, next door we have a canoe base and a skatepark for example... The goal of this new formula is to surprise the public and do everything we can to last."

Faced with rising security costs and declining public subsidies, the Concarneau Festival des filets bleus has found a solution: a support badge sold to festival-goers. A modest but symbolic initiative for this Breton music festival founded in 1905, one of the oldest in the region. "This support badge was launched for the 2024 edition to address, in particular, the rising costs related to security for the festival, which brings together 70,000 people over five days. As all concerts are free, we must find other sources of income," explains Marylène Colin, co-president of the event. Nearly 2,000 badges were sold during the first edition, despite a late introduction. Sold for €3 in 2024, its price increases to €5 this year.

A lifeline. "The edition was slightly in the red last year. Without this badge, it would have been even more so," acknowledges Marylène Colin. The budget now exceeds €800,000, of which only 12% comes from public subsidies. The security item represents "7 to 8% of the budget," or approximately "€60,000 to €70,000," according to Bernard Piers, co-president of the event. Unlike other festivals such as the Interceltique de Lorient, there is no benefit associated with purchasing the badge. "There is no real compensation. It is a badge of pure support," emphasize the organizers.

Beyond the financial aspect, this scheme recalls the festival's charitable origins, created to support fishing families affected by an economic crisis. "Sardines had deserted the coasts a little before 1905. There was a great deal of poverty. The Fête des filets bleus was originally a charity , " says the co-president. A communication campaign is planned for mid-June to raise public awareness of this new charitable initiative represented by the support badge. Because for 2025, the objective is ambitious, emphasizes Marylène Colin: "We would be happy to sell many more. Why not 10,000."