Pop-Kultur: Is This the Blueprint for Future Festivals?

5 Minute Read
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Art & Culture
Written by Anna Grubauer
 

A festival that challenges norms with its innovative and inclusive line-up, featuring insights from curator Pamela Owusu-Brenyah.

Pop-Kultur is the antithesis of what is currently happening in the festival scene: While ticket prices are skyrocketing and all the bookers seem to be chasing the same crowd-pullers, making it seem as if some DJs exist twice, Pop-Kultur continues to maintain a low level of access and an unconventional programme.

This wouldn’t be possible without the substantial subsidies from the government.

Despite this, or perhaps because of it, the festival is a playground for both the organisers and the audience to push the boundaries.

 

I pride myself on being the music person in my circle of friends. Yet probably 70% of the line-up was completely unfamiliar to me. The festival, which returns to the Kulturbrauerei every year at the end of August, expands into genres and niches that are very much outside my comfort zone, and Pop-Kultur claims to be a platform for the next big names in the early stages of their careers. It also has no real headliners, or at least it doesn’t emphasise them: for three days you can drift through the festival area without pressure or expectation, putting yourself and your taste in music to the test.

 
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Take the opening night as an example: I was treated to Austrian street rap with a good sprinkling of Turkish lyrics and instrumentation, glamorous pop-soul, Eurovision-esque bangers but with a hefty political punch, dreamy avant-pop and a Tamil-spiced blend of rap and RnB. Unofficial headliner Black Sherif is just one example of the many African artists who are huge in their home countries but rarely make it to Europe. The 19-year-old mixes Afrobeats with highlife and drill, creating a unique blend of old and new. One of my personal highlights was Otis Mensah, who was asked to create a commissioned work – a now established format of the festival where artists are given a budget to put on a show without the pressure of commercial success, but are encouraged to express themselves creatively and multi-disciplinarily. Otis took the opportunity to put together a band, consisting of a rhythm section and two backing vocalists, to complement their poetic spoken word and rap performances. And what a pleasant surprise was Rachael Lavelle with her dreamy set of angelic vocals and relatable storytelling – at least for any millennial woman growing up in this strange world of dating apps and lifestyle influencers. She even managed to cover ABBA without losing her spacey yet soothing textures. Futurebae could be Germany’s answer to Charlie XCX, at least in terms of the equally empowering but sleazy energy on stage and the ease of her performance, which sounded like a mix of R&B, dancehall, and electronic beats. It is clear that the curatorial team have focused on booking confident and confrontational female voices. 

While gender-balanced and diverse booking has become somewhat of a mainstream topic in the music industry discourse – though many events still fail to achieve – Pop-Kultur once again proves to be a role model beyond its programming: The festivals commitment to inclusivity isn’t just talk; its thorough measures are both prominent and visibly successful. These include a barrier-free floor system, a service team for people with visual impairments, selected programmes accompanied by sign language interpreters and an awareness team. 21 downbeat, an inclusive band project, has been booked to create a commissioned work that translates the concept form the dance-floors to the stage.

 
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With a few exceptions of overly packed and steamy floors, most of the concerts would definitely have benefited from a bigger crowd. Especially on the first two days, it was clear that the festival was far from sold out. Rather than a highlight in the calendar of every Berlin resident, it has the feel of an industry event, fuelled by the opening event with free drinks and snacks, which was the only time I had to queue during the three festival days. I felt sorry for any artist who failed to get the crowd to sing along – but unfortunately those who should know best (the bookers, promoters, managers and such) are often too cool to join in. Or was it the poor sound quality on some of the stages, which not only made it hard to understand the vocalists, but also tamed the mood? At least for me it did. This is all the more sad because I really think that the festival is a great opportunity to discover new artists and maybe even genres for everyone, even beyond the music industry. Especially considering the reasonable ticket prices (around 35 euros for a day ticket), it is at the very least a fun after-work experience, at best a gateway to new music scenes.

 
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To get a glimpse behind the scenes, I spoke to Pamela Owusu-Brenyah. The Berlin-based music consultant, festival organiser and DJ is part of the programme team alongside Yeşim Duman and Christian Morin. It is thanks to her work that Pop-Kultur has been able to build strong bridges to the music scenes of many African countries. Talking to her gave me an even better idea what Pop-Kultur is and what the teams considers as their socio-political responsibility. Her perspective underscores the festival’s dedication to not just showcasing diversity, but actively supporting underrepresented voices in the music industry.

What is your approach? Which topics impact your work?

I don’t take a very conceptual approach, but I do look at which countries I’m representing with my booking, especially with the African theme. And I definitely look at gender. But other than that, I approach things very openly. Of course I’m also influenced by what’s happening in the world throughout the year. I want to build bridges and therefore it was very clear to me that I wanted to book a Palestinian act. I also knew I wanted to book someone from Israel. And of course we want, or I want, to use my role for people in this city who have simply less performance opportunities. As a black woman, I have been undervalued many times and I know what that feels like. There aren’t many festivals in Berlin that have women in this position, let alone women with a migration background.

Do you have opportunities that commercial festivals don’t have?

Mainstream festivals are of course more dependent on ticket sales. So they probably can’t curate as freely or book as many lesser-known acts. As a mainstream festival you try or have to invite very specific artists. Maybe you don’t like some of the acts yourself, but you still have to book them because they sell tickets. Maybe a big mainstream festival will think very carefully about whether they want to or can represent such stark musical contrasts such as Hiphop, Rock, Indie, Afrobeats, electronic music at one festival. What’s different for us is that we also have state and city funding, so we really have a mission to be a representation of diversity in Berlin. In terms of origin, of course, but also in terms of nationality, music genre, in terms of the many different identities. My aim is it to showcase popular music from a global perspective. And that allows us to discover new things. We can experiment a lot, that’s what makes it so nice.

And what about the flip side, are there any challenges you have that commercial festivals don’t face?

Money, of course, but also other festivals have a limited budget. Other festivals probably don’t have to be so political. We don’t position ourselves explicitly either, but through our programme. I think there are also certain issues that people expect us to address in a different way. I mean, there are still big festivals like Rock am Ring that only have 4% or 5% female acts or acts from other gender minorities. If we were to do that, the outcry would be pretty damn high. Also, if we were to curate an all-white festival, we would have big problems. So you could say we’re limited in that sense, but that’s actually what I enjoy about my role. I have the opportunity to book such different people with such different stories to tell. I think there are very few festivals that can do that and maybe want to do that. But for me, that’s why I work here. Who knows if I’ll ever work at a mainstream festival, maybe because I can afford the biggest African act. But I also like the political statement that I make with my booking or that we make as a festival. My aim is to really bring different people to the festival, so that different people feel addressed and represented. That’s a positive or a nice challenge.

What is your highlight of this years festival?

I have booked so many great artists but my personal highlight has to be Black Sherif. I was just in Ghana in May and I’ve rarely seen such an omnipresent artist. He unites all generations, whether rich or poor, I’ve never seen that in a Ghanaian artist and I’ve never seen that in Germany either. He combines hip-hop elements with highlife elements, elements that our parents listened to, and also creates new sounds. So I was very excited, his music moves me to tears. But of course Yemi Alade is another highlight, she had such a big hit 10 years ago and she still has hits now. Having a female headliner, having a female superstar, it’s always important to me.

 
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Even if this approach might not be feasible when profit margins or the threat of bankruptcy are at stake, Pop-Kultur’s model offers a refreshing alternative. It’s a reminder that festivals can be more than just commercial ventures; they can be platforms for creativity, inclusivity, and genuine cultural exchange. It would be great to see other festivals adopt some of these principles and explore ways of maintaining artistic integrity.