Review: Treefort 10 — For its 10 Year Anniversary, Treefort Went Extra

 

☆ BY ALEX FREE

 
 

THE NAME OF THE GAME WAS (ORGANIZED) CHAOS - Music fest, endless party, queertopia… there’s no end to the terms you could use to describe Boise’s Treefort 10. The festival seemed to have a little something for everybody. The schedule was happily overwhelming, with eight ‘forts’ outside of the central music fest. The week was studded with performances from drag queens, classes from star chefs, poetry readings, yoga sessions, ballet and contemporary dance, panels on fine arts, tech hacks, and breaking into the industry— and, of course: music.

For the festival’s 10-year anniversary, the lineup boasted a truly baffling rolodex of more than 500 artists, with programming spanning the course of 5 days. Devotees flocked to Grove Street for Main Stage favorites Kari Faux, Snail Mail, Men I Trust, Durand Jones, Neil Frances, Deerhoof, and Kim Gordon. Boise's favorite, LA-based artist Joshy Soul took the highly-extra stage of the Egyptian Theatre with literal fanfare, and a voice and outfit to one-up the environment. Late-night performances by Magna Carda, Fly Anakin, bbymutha, and Knwbdy, hosted by the Reef, were truly knock-out and congenially rowdy. 

Angel Abaya, Thee Sacred Souls, Ata Kak shone on the stage of the El Korah; emerging artists Frankie Tillo and Wend captivated crowds with explosive and complex songs under the gel projections at the Sonic Temple (a psychedelic makeshift venue hosted at a Masonic Lodge). An intimate set from vocalist James Tillman crowned the pop-up gallery opening at Sanctuary. Ravers, headphones in hand, crowded Main Street on a Thursday for a communal, silent disco experience.

Scheduled music ran throughout the day and every night until 2AM, and still there were secret porch shows, add-ons, house shows, unlisted late night clubs and after, after parties. It seemed that everywhere you went there was some converted stage, some excuse to get another drink at the Neurolux, someone to excitedly pull you to the next show in any unpredictable context or genre, and present to you why it was the only thing that could’ve mattered at the time.  

At some point in the festival experience, the schedule really does get unmanageable. By day four you’ve missed half the things you planned to go to and ended up seeing artists you’d never heard of (and are glad you did!). Friendships have been formed or strengthened, flourishing micro-communities popped up, some of which outlive the duration of the fest. 

At some point, you were probably whisked to the closing night Gustaf set where everyone you met that week was there moshing. You’ve highly likely kissed friends, literally run across town to catch friends playing same time slots, and realized that the beauty of the fest is, truly, how idiosyncratic and equally-celebrated each individual’s experience of that space is. 

At some point you just have to give in to the chaos and let it take a hold.