In recent times, an element of contemporary imprint has been added to the landscape inherent to the summer season, but called to establish itself permanently and which goes by the name of macrofestivals. The proliferation of this phenomenon is so unstoppable that just as in the past it was said that a squirrel was capable of crossing the Iberian Peninsula jumping from tree to tree, today it could do the same, after paying its subscription, going to the different appointments that take place within the territory. Some events that despite their priority positioning on the cultural agenda ignite among their potential audience, as if it were about transferring, and updating, the myth of the two Spains, a disparity of opinions focused on those who see in them the enjoyment expected during throughout the year and those who look down on his appearance and will long for the concerts in the hall during those months that promote closer contact with the artist in question.
If we were to align Nando Cruz, author of the book, in one of both positions, and given the explicitness of his title, “Macrofestivals. The black hole of music, would be between the seconds, which does not mean an intrinsic hostility to the format. In fact, in his introduction he clarifies, through autobiographical episodes, that he has been a fervent follower of theirs during a certain period of youth. It would be as a result of literally falling asleep standing on the fences in front of a concert after a strenuous day, when, as an epiphany, he helped her reflect on her condition and the drift they had taken. A renewed perception that makes him define them not as a meeting place for music lovers but under the guise of a kind of supermarket that, as happens in this type of establishment, to reach the desired object you must go through infinite aisles full of offers that seduce our consumer drive to the point of forgetting what was the reason that had led us there.
Commending himself to an exhaustive and detailed narration, not without an oxygenating sense of irony, the music journalist assumes the task of carefully and profusely auscultating all the existing vertices, from the most visible to the least, in a macro-festival. In this way, he manages to dissect, well supported by a huge amount of data, theories –coming from disparate disciplines– and giving voice to direct protagonists, a reality that is sometimes invisible to our eyes but where nothing that exists is accidental. Because like any other big company, this concert formula works governed by that maxim in which the only real success lies in an expansionism that invokes the masses and not so much the people. An aspect that the author does not hesitate to describe as, at this point, already intrinsic to his own nature, resulting in a resigned acceptance by the viewer of all the discomforts that it brings: whether it be having to move between multiple scenes, dealing with with schedules that combine performances or having to enjoy the show from a distance, or from the coldness of the screens. All with the sole purpose of finishing a gymkhana that the organization encourages as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to enjoy what is offered. If in their origin these congregations were precisely that, a gathering of music lovers to release their emotions around their favorite groups and escape from the oppressive and exploitative daily dynamics, now they have become an enlarged extension of that constant need for turning our experiences into a continuous hustle and bustle.
For those consumer stimuli that receive us as soon as we cross the entrance to occupy such an essential space, and therefore colonize the spirit of the spectator, a complex logistical and promotional apparatus is necessary that Nando Cruz does not shy away from confronting. And it does so with the determination to illuminate certain aspects that we tend to forget their relevance by assuming, as in the case of sponsors, which beyond their visual impact, and given the decisive monetary injection that they suppose, leads to a capital role. when it comes to delineating the musical bet in favor of their particular interests, generating a logical homogenization of the proposals.
In the reflective stake accepted by the writer, we will not find sweetened speeches about the always controversial pecuniary aspects, in this context personalized in subsidies and caches. To do this, he uses an accurate analogy, where he points to today’s macrofestivals as the patron saint festivities of yesteryear, when there was no town, city or district that did not invest all its income in achieving dazzle and outshine –a way of harangue competitiveness– to the neighbor, demonstrating an agile management of the checkbook. The same parameters, under a much more mammoth staging, are the ones that feed this type of event, converted for its part, given its expansive capacity, into one of the few spaces in which many local bands can profit from their work, which leads them to direct their sound –as they used to do looking for a place in radio formulas– in such a way that it allows them to go to several of them, in order to avoid embarking on endless and loss-making tours of the different cities of the State. A conclusion with which Nando Cruz demolishes the myth of that supposed revitalizing power that these events embody with respect to the cultural fabric, for which in reality their presence becomes an imbalance in order to create a consistent offer throughout year. Bread for today and hunger for tomorrow, as the classic would say.
There is another equivalence that hovers over the entire book and that its judicious choice serves perfectly to reveal the ecosystem that a macro-festival represents for the author. His comparison with a miniature city serves to uncover the labor and class relations that are established within the framework of these events. The paltry salaries and the leonine days that their workers endure coexist with the luxuries and large disbursements destined for artists; In the same way that the VIP areas dedicated to the most select spectators border on the hot dog stands around which the less affluent attendee crowds. An imbalance that is also expressed from the very global identity that the venue exudes, and that is that despite the diversity that it advocates, it continues to identify itself by and for a white upper-middle class, just as it develops a clearly deficient relationship with the environment. environment and with respect to their own location, determined by gentrifying patterns that cause the alteration of the social “ecosystem” of the area more than makes possible a practical integration into it.
With a book brimming with an investigative and detailed spirit, Nando Cruz succeeds in not only drawing the reader’s attention to the many details and threads that make up the identity of macro-festivals, but also sounds the alarm about its voracious transformation. But even, beyond revealing this condition and the consequent question about the relationship to establish with them given their consolidated settlement, cleverly through its pages it places us before an amendment to the entire capitalist system that without realizing it, or without wanting to be aware, has managed to swallow one of the most popular manifestations of culture that exist today. Because the most distressing unknown that slides through this clarifying and exciting work is precisely how what was born to share sensations and emotions derived from music, has now been engulfed and transformed into a market value more subject to the only mystique consisting of making balance the accounts for their own benefit. And that’s not just bad news for music, but for the individual himself.
