What happens when the last track is played?

InnsbruckGabonsaFestival

26 Aug

Written By Leon Stofft

@Susanne Oberhollenzer

This piece was meant to be published two weeks ago — but after a festival, time follows its own rhythm. Dismantling takes longer than planned, tasks stretch out, and the unexpected appears. Reflection slips in between, as structures vanish and memories begin to settle. In that sense, the delay feels true to Gabonsa itself — because real insight doesn’t arrive instantly.

This text is about that in-between time —from the first track and after the last. A phase just as important as the festival itself: reflection, exchange, and reimagining what comes next. Gabonsa doesn’t end with the final track — it continues in the conversations, the memories, and the ideas that grow long after the music has stopped. For visitors, the last track marks the end of a weekend full of music, encounters, and euphoria. For us, it’s only the beginning of a different kind of work. I stand on the field and see the traces in the grass, the cable trenches, the piles of materials ready to be packed away. Where people were dancing just hours before, the slow unbuilding begins. Most people never see this part — and yet it’s here that the foundation for the future is laid.

Nine months of preparation, two weeks of building — for three days of festival. When you say it out loud, it sounds almost absurd. And yet this imbalance is what makes Gabonsa what it is. Because what remains afterwards is more than the sum of hours worked: it’s memories, encounters, atmospheres. For me, the most vivid moment was Saturday night: dusk settling in, the lights turning the landscape into a new reality, the festival revealing its hidden face. Some people float home on waves of happiness, others wish they could turn back the clock for just a few more hours. For us, it’s a mix of relief and gratitude.

@Susanne Oberhollenzer

Gabonsa was meant to be a social and spatial experiment

The driving range proved itself a festival site — and showed its limits too. In three days, it transformed from an abandoned golf course into a resonant body of sound, light, and community. What remains are impressions: footprints pressed into the grass, outlines of temporary structures and sculptures, faint scars where the infrastructure once lay. But also a new way of seeing the place — not as a forgotten space, but as one waiting to be reimagined.

At the heart of Gabonsa was the community. From the first site walks with just eight people, to the days before opening when friends, crews from other cities, parents, and even students with their professor became part of the build — the festival was a collective project. The most moving moments came when people supported each other without hesitation: “We need more hands to carry this,” “Do you have tools we can borrow?” — and suddenly strangers were working side by side. Artists who performed in Innsbruck for the first time were surprised by the openness and energy they found here. And when someone later shares their festival memory with shining eyes and a smile, it feels like the truest kind of reward for countless unseen hours of work.

1-2 : @Anna Rogler, 3: Susanne Oberhollenzer

Imagine it is the future and everything is good

Gabonsa was never meant to be a commercial mega-event. It began as a longing, a party we wanted to build for ourselves. That is what sets it apart from many festivals: it’s not about maximizing numbers, but about creating a space for exchange, art, music, and togetherness. Of course, limits become visible. Just before the festival, the weather forecast promised heavy rain. Ticket sales dropped, nerves stretched thin. Nine months of work suddenly fell at the mercy of a

storm. But that’s part of the reality: failure, improvisation, and moments of pure luck all belong to the same story.

Two months later, the question of the future remains. Gabonsa is an open-ended experiment, carried by idealism and shadowed by risk. We don’t know how long we can keep the energy to organize it year after year. But then again — we never did. What is certain is that Gabonsa has become part of Innsbruck’s cultural landscape. Without this city and its communities, it wouldn’t exist. Our slogan — “Imagine it is the future and everything is good” — is not just a dream but a commitment: to create a piece of that future here and now. A future where spaces are shared, reimagined, and filled with life. A future where art, music, and community are not luxuries, but essentials.