Harbourfront sets itself up for ‘failure’
Festival looks to counter the fear of taking risks
In a city teeming with summer festivals, it is difficult to stand out. Down by the water, the new Brave: The Festival of Risk and Failure is Harbourfront’s attempt at doing so.
Kicking off on Thursday, this two-week multidisciplinary festival combines music, comedy, art and more, but it forces the question: What does success look like for something that celebrates failure?
“What we tried to do with this festival is program artists that exemplified risk-taking and the ability to grow in their practice by failing in front of people,” says Laura McLeod, director of cultural engagement for Harbourfront Centre. “Success is if the audience comes to our stages and then also takes part in some of the programming to test themselves personally or to challenge something.”
It’s an interesting creation and — along with this past May’s Junior, a new kids festival with the tag line “Big thoughts for growing minds” — a sign that Harbourfront wants to try to reframe things, although carefully.
“We want to be relevant,” says Iris Nemani, Harbourfront Centre’s chief programming officer. “Harbourfront has a long and rich history, locally, nationally and internationally. But I would say in the past 10 years, internationally, our reputation is still quite strong, with so many artists that have graced our stages, but locally, I’m not sure how many people, if you walked around the city and asked, would say that they come here.”
She points to a changing waterfront, the explosion of condos surrounding the area and doesn’t need to mention all of the other entertainment options available at our fingertips.
In the past few years, Harbourfront’s executives have worked to define their place and what it might be. The lofty goal is to be Canada’s leading international centre of arts and culture. Nemani says they don’t want to compete with arts organizations in the city and would look to fill gaps that seem underserved.
Some things about Harbourfront are not changing. It will still be a place where the city’s cultures can come and celebrate. There will always be free programming, as well as a mix of ticketed events.
One of the tweaks though, is that instead of a singular Aboriginal focus festival — Planet Indigenous, which took place every three years — Indigenous programming will be woven throughout all festivals. These and other pillars such as international, Francophone and ed- ucational programming, as well as the many Harbourfront camps, will also remain part of the focus.
At the Junior programming launch, this reporter — perhaps clouded by memories of the Milk International Children’s Festival — noted that some of the programming had a bit of higher brow feel about it, like Child of the Divide, a play about partition in India. Nemani says it spoke to many children who saw it and pointed to another performance, Drag Queen Storytelling, as being indicative of what they want to do. “The room was jammed with families listening to two men telling stories,” says Nemani. “For us, that was pushing it a little bit. For those artists, those drag queens, to be able to tell their stories in a safe place, and to be welcomed and celebrated by all of those families, that’s a win.”
In terms of this Festival of Failure, the idea is to counter people’s fear surrounding it.
“Especially with young people, there is a fear of failure. They don’t want to take risks, they want to get everything right,” says McLeod. “And if they do fail, there are no consequences, so it’s kind of this messed up world that we want to explore.”
The programming kicks off with an evening with John Waters, followed up with performances from comedians Bassem Yousef, Cathy Jones and Gina Yashere, and a free concert by French-Chilean rapper Ana Tijoux.
As well, there will be site-specific installations, and the visual art component will include an installation from Sean Martindale, a comment about how this city is failing its homeless despite the rampant building going on.
Martindale’s piece look like a 12-metre pile of artificial grass covering building materials. Surrounded by defaced condo sandwich boards, it reveals itself to be silhouette of a person sleeping on the ground, its face made up of flowers.
It is intriguing, something Harbourfront is aspiring to be.