
(Another installment in a series on Fête de la Musique worldwide) NB: Some text here has been translated from the Spanish by Clara. 
Medellín.
Pablo Escobar.
Nothing else to it, right?
Wrong.
True, the city was once considered by some to be the most dangerous in the world. But if it were nothing but drugs and violence, then why would Patrick Deyvant, current Director of the Alianza Francesa in Medellín and steward of La Fiesta de la Música there, have headed to Medellín of his own accord?
“I decided myself to come to Colombia – I applied for the job” explained Patrick. “For the last eight years I was working in Asia, mostly in India – in Bombay. Before that I had worked also in Mexico for 5 years, and in Guatemala for 2 years. In Guatemala the situation was very difficult when I was there. And what I found very interesting was when you live in a country that has conflicts, like violence and war, the relations with people are much more intense, much more essential in a way. It’s part of the reason why I decided to come to Colombia.”
“And also,” he added, “because I met several people who had lived in Colombia and every one was talking so well about the people in Colombia and the life in Medellín.”
Patrick has lived in Medellín since 2009. I asked him if this perception of Medellín-as-Escobar that has so captured the USA’s media imagination still holds true.
Turns out, it doesn’t. And in fact, one of reasons it doesn’t is something we should sit up and take notice of: culture. It’s important, Patrick noted, to understand that “the policy of the Municipality [of Medellín] was to fight against the violence with culture. [The city] has built, for example, many libraries in very poor neighborhoods. It’s very important the work they are doing in these neighborhoods – kids have access to books, workshops, concerts, all for free. Medellín has really changed in the last few years; there are many foreigners working in the city, it’s much more open. Of course the violence still exists, but it’s not the same kind of violence we had twenty years ago. It’s much safer than before.” (A bit more reading on Medellín’s approach, if you’re interested.)
This practice of using culture to combat violence has interesting implications for the Fête in Medellín, which celebrates its ninth edition this June 18, 2011.
First, the festival serves as a point of unity for residents. Where in other cities the Fête tends towards fragmentation and intensely local celebration (as Evan and I discussed), in Medellín the Fiesta is instead an example of pride that is fiercely city-wide. According to Patrick, “[the Fiesta] is a way for the people to feel like the city belongs to them. In some parts of the city, the violence was very heavy – there are people who haven’t come back to the center of Medellín for some 20 years. So the Fiesta has helped people change their mind, and come back to the center of the city.”
This sense of belonging extends to the entire state of Antioquia. “We also have several smaller cities around Medellin [the Greater Metropolitan Area of Medellín comprises 10 cities total] which are involved in the Fiesta de la Música here in Medellín. [The Fiesta] involves the whole state of Antioquia. We give the possibility of bands coming from other cities to come to play in Medellín, and some bands from Medellin go to play in the other cities. We try to organize exchanges.”
Second, the ingrained emphasis on culture-as-benefit makes for a festival that is particularly dedicated to individual musicians. Unlike NYC, for example, La Fiesta de la Música in Medellín is organized around several “official” stages – co-sponsored by the Alianza Francesa and the Municipality of Medellín – that are installed in the most well-known spots around the city. Musicians must apply to play on these stages through the convocatoría, and “a jury with professional people working in the field of music in charge of making the selection of the groups [this jury is separate from the Alianza Francesa and the city].” This year, 226 bands submitted applications to the convocatoría – 89 of whom came from outside Medellín proper. 60 bands were selected, with seven hailing from the surrounding areas.
Although it seems to run counter to the spirit of the Fête de la Musique, this system of sponsoring official stages plays directly into the city’s interest in supporting culture as a way of improving quality of life. The benefits of playing on a stage are great: not only do these bands have access to professional equipment and sound engineering, but “after the festival, there’s a second selection process [from the bands who play the official stages] and we produce a CD. It’s an opportunity for the bands to have professional materials and be promoted through the city.”
At the same time, Patrick isn’t interested in micro-managing, and for him “it’s very important that people can spontaneously organize their own concerts and parties. The idea is to try to impose the energy of the Fiesta de la Música but we don’t want to control everything.” Thus, beyond the official stages, there is an “agreement with the Municipality that from 10 in the morning to 3 in the morning, musicians can play anywhere they want.” And play they do. The 2010 Fiesta featured some 80 bands and 1,200 musicians officially, and thousands more throughout the city.
Here’s a taste of the 2010 Fiesta. It’s in Spanish, but you almost don’t need to understand the language to get a sense of how beloved the festival is in Medellín, and a glimpse of the city’s rich musical culture:
And there’s a third interesting thing about the Fiesta de la Música in Medellín which takes the culture-as-unifier impulse global: it’s organized around a theme. Apparently, every year, the international Fête de la Musique is loosely tied to a theme, often inspired by or directly related the United Nation’s own yearly focus. (This, my friends, was news to me.)
“This year the international theme for the Fête is the music from Ultramar, because the United Nations has named 2011 the year of afro-descendants. So, we’ve interpreted that to be Afro-Caribbean music.” (Ultramar, or in French département d’outre-mer, is a collection of five French overseas departments – Guadaloupe, Martinique, French Guiana, Reunión and, most recently, Mayotte – located in the Caribbean.)
The theme is an interesting one both for Medellín and for Patrick, for whom “it is very important to link the festival with the musical life of Medellín. I think it’s very important to pay attention to the local scene, what’s going on here, who is important in music, how we can involve them in the festival” he stressed. “This is what I have been trying to do with the Fiesta de la Música. I think it’s very important to not to be limited to French music but to be open to other kinds of music.”
In keeping with this goal, this year in addition to flying in some high-profile French musicians for the opening and the after party, Patrick is planning a tribute to Jairo Grisales Ángel and his band, Orquesta Nuevo Miramar, one of the most influential Colombian salsa musicians of the 20th century.
The theme is also an opportunity to further the community-building aspect of art that Medellín is so inspired by. Though there is a great diversity in music-making in Medellín – “there are so many musicians in this area” stressed Patrick – salsa, and its Afro-Caribbean musical descendants, reigns supreme. And yet, as Patrick explained, “you have racism in Colombia also, these people are not really recognized, they live a little on the side.” The hope is that with this year’s theme, and with the tribute to Nuevo Miramar, “the afro population will be much more involved in the Fiesta.”
So what does all this amount to? The stages, the promotional record, the theme, the emphasis on culture against violence? “Last year we had more than 80,000 people coming to see the Fiesta. It’s really motivating.”
80,000 people out and about until 3am, and this in a city where residents were once too scared to even venture downtown. It is really motivating. And it’s not just happening in Colombia. From Medellín’s art vs. violence experiment to country-wide projects like Venezuela’s El Sistema and localized projects here in the United States, such as Providence’s Community Music Works, there’s something about music that makes change.
Step aside, Pablito.