Julianna Barwick was a little oasis on the hottest and last day of the festival.
The crowd had been partying for three full days of the following: wake up, go see shows, crash in tent. All of the nourishing food and liquids kept the basic physical aspect maintained. However, the minds had been wired nonstop from all the excitement and sounds. It isn’t a surprise that the overstimulated were overdue for a break.
Barwick’s angelic voice and keyboard made it the most sophisticated decompression time. Several people were laying down and were completely relaxed at the front row of this intimate stage. Some were seated with closed eyes taking in her atmospheric creation. A few children were peeking through the fence, who seemed rather entranced by the sound. Hesitantly, they remained behind as if they were not invited to the grownups’ nap time.
When the audience had their fill of relaxation, they swiftly left the sitting area. The next group of people would occupy the space. It was a well-choreographed movement performed between strangers, all which were unspoken. Barwick’s sound must hit the basal part of the brain to allow people to be aware in unison. That subtle phenomenon was one of the most powerful impacts. Many people who had intended to pass by stopped to take a moment for themselves. The result was looking a little refreshed and less hurried to catch the next show. Barwick’s performance reminded us that music does not have to be dramatic in theatrics or numbers to tap into ourselves.