Øhavet Festival is a special experience because it doesn’t try to be the biggest or the most spectacular. Instead, it’s built on local energy, community and a feeling that is both solidaristic and trust-based. In Marstal, the town, the harbour and the festival become part of the same whole, and that gives the event a pace unlike most other festivals.
One star
Two stars
Three stars
Four stars
Five stars
Disclaimer: Apropos Magazine received access or a review copy. As always, we share our own impressions — unfiltered.
Six stars
Øhavet is a truly special festival. Not because it has the biggest names or the most spectacular stages, but because it is driven by local forces, with all of Marstal seeming to be part of the project. Even on the festival’s website, the focus is not only on the music, but also on the town, the harbour and the other experiences on Ærø. It feels solidaristic, inclusive and trust-based.
That atmosphere continues the moment you step onto the site. Of course, there are many festivals where people look out for the person next to them. At Øhavet, people are genuinely interested in one another. Lovely, spontaneous conversations kept breaking out with people who were sincerely curious about each other in the most positive way. Music is the focal point, but community is undoubtedly the festival’s real headliner.
So much of it feels homemade and still in bloom, and that is a huge part of the charm. The festival schedule, for instance, was hand-painted on a blue sign by the entrance. I never found it online, so a photo of the sign remained my faithful phone wallpaper for the rest of the weekend.
The festival has two stages: the large outdoor stage at Eriksens Plads and the intimate indoor stage in Værftet. In addition, there are several cosy bars. Pøsen was especially impressive with an excellent sour beer, while the cocktail bar aboard a ship was among the festival’s very best ideas.
Nordisk Dans made for a perfect opening to the festival. The audience became just as much a part of the experience as the musicians, and it felt natural in a way you rarely see. It was an elegant way of getting people to let go, and the support was huge.
At the same time, a clear musical identity emerged among the booked artists. Kayak and Snuggle both delivered fragile, atmospheric concerts, while Portal PET’s offered a creative sound that at times recalled The xx, with delicate layers and plenty of air in the arrangements.
On the other hand, the stage in Værftet felt a little undersized. The musicians stood almost at the same height as the audience, which made the view difficult. That was a shame, because the room itself is fantastic and captures exactly the atmosphere Øhavet wants to create.
It was blazing hot, but nobody seemed particularly bothered. The audience was focused and respectful toward the music. This wasn’t a festival about being seen. More a festival where it felt good simply to be there.
Friday’s headliner, Afskum, was a slight disappointment, though. The band came on half an hour late, and the wait never really paid off. The energy drained a little from the site, and the experience most of all resembled Alanis Morissette’s performance in South Park. Some seemed to love it, while others mostly looked as if they were waiting for it to end.
After the concert, a barn was turned into a dance floor with DJ Atusa behind the decks. The atmosphere was excellent, and the party could have gone in any direction. At the same time, it also became clear that the festival had outgrown the covered area. A little paradoxical that at Øhavet there is room for everyone, and yet there wasn’t room for everyone.
Saturday offered, among other things, a children’s programme and mermaids, before Øyunn delivered a progressive concert and explained that one of the tracks had been mixed by Trentemøller. You could hear that.
The festival’s perhaps biggest musical experience came later in Værftet with TLF Trio. An unusually long horror intro slowly turned out to be a song. The audience seemed just as absorbed in interpreting the experience as in the concert itself, and the descriptions afterwards were almost as interesting as the music. It all felt like a jumble with a strange kind of logic. Equal parts contemporary art, radio jingle and dream sequence. Like the flashback scene in your favourite JRPG, where the alternate protagonist turns out to be the main character’s father, and the annoying lion-like pet has been trying to tell you the truth since disc 2.
That may sound strange. It was. In exactly the right way.
Søn delivered the festival’s most poetic concert. For the first time in my life, I found myself consciously not listening for the lyrics. Not because they were bad, but because the words blended so naturally with the music that the metaphorical images almost became more important than their literal meaning. Frontman Kristoffer Jensen also had an impressive hold over the audience.
The festival’s undisputed headliner was School of X, and it turned out to be a perfect booking. Rasmus Torp Littauer once again showed why he is considered one of the country’s most interesting live artists. He asked the audience where the magic was. The answer was obvious. It was right there on the site.
His little introductions to the songs were about the new friends you might have met during the festival, and they fit Øhavet’s identity perfectly. The visuals, slowly collapsing into one another before finally gathering into a large X, were a beautiful detail.
To close, the sky above Marstal exploded in the most impressive fireworks display Ærø has probably ever seen. And it just kept going.
The party continued afterwards, exactly as it had the night before. Once again there were more people than space under the shelter, and once again everyone seemed genuinely interested in being part of the celebration. On the other hand, it was a little comical that by then almost all the food stalls had closed. Both the hungry guests and the stalls themselves could probably have gotten more out of the night.
Øhavet still feels like a small secret. A festival that will probably become harder to get tickets for as more people discover it. The combination of camping options, Marstal’s local setting and a festival where community matters more than the façade creates an experience you simply won’t find many other places.
It was also refreshing to see the locals watching from the balconies around the site. Unless, of course, they were watching that football match with all the goals.
Go to Øhavet if you miss a festival where community matters more than FOMO, and where you are almost guaranteed to end up talking to the same people several times over the course of the weekend.
En stjerne
To stjerner
Tre stjerner
Fire stjerner
Fem stjerner
Seks stjerner
