Molly Ellis
“Build something fun on a hill and see who turns up” – this is how Loud Places describes its aims in this year’s festival programme, and it’s about as honest a mission statement as I’ve ever come across, and a very modest one at that.
Capped at around 500 people and tucked away in the countryside of Sussex with the precise location only revealed to ticketholders, there is a smallness to Loud Places that is incredibly intentional. It is an outrageously intimate space, bringing together a personally curated and varied line-up of DJs alongside a respectful, relaxed and wildly friendly crowd. While only in its third year, its creative intention and genuine goal to create connection are clear.
Alongside multiple new additions to this year was the hi-fi sound system ‘Simba’, hand-crafted and built by the Turnend Audio team to power the Observatory Stage in its new iteration. Not only was the system audibly incredible but visually stunning; a true work of art. Complemented by Big Sexy Creations’ lighting installation ‘The Electrolier’, the Observatory made for a consistently cosy, sexy and intimate vibe – day and night. Juno’s mid-afternoon set was perrrrrrrrrrfect for this stage, with everyone basking and dancing in the sun to the soulfulness of her tracks as we went into the evening – a beautiful moment!
This was my first Loud Places, and having volunteered because a few of my friends were either playing or working, I went in with almost no expectations at all. What I definitely hadn’t anticipated was how at home I would feel throughout the weekend.
Coming pretty freshly off a (beautifully intense) weekend at Houghton – with its spectacle and the very real risk of losing all of your friends at all times – the contrast between the two festivals hit me in the best way.
What really stood out to me and quite literally made my weekend was everything that was happening around the music (which, of course, was incredible in itself). The pockets of field where you could sit, breathe and talk properly to someone, whether a new face or old friend, did as much of the work as any stage.
Many of these spaces were embedded within installations, like Fealds’ ‘Fish Bowl’, which served as a natural gathering point in the middle of the meadow, or the lighting threading through the trees near the Rotunda stage, carving out immersive little nooks to sit or wander through. Notable for me was the middle of the meadow, where Mad Jack’s Hat sat: a small, cosy tipi that became my Sunday base – a place of both retreat and silliness. Mostly silliness.
Yoga on Saturday morning, a sports day that was a wild success, poetry and art… it all added up to a festival that wanted people to do things together, mingle properly and enjoy the moment. It was about creating genuine connection rather than simply occupying the same field; almost akin to a family gathering that got slightly, brilliantly, out of hand.
This might have been, dare I say, my favourite festival this summer. Not because it was the biggest or the wildest, but because of its thoughtful and intentional curation. It felt really special.
If I’m being picky, I’d love an extra day. But alas.
