Honestly, when I think about an Art Festival, I don’t just think oh nice paintings and cool installations. I mean yeah, that’s part of it — but what really pulls me in is the whole messy, unpredictable, all-over-the-place experience. I’m talking Exhibitions, Performances, Workshops, Talks, and yes even Film Screening sessions. When someone says they’re into an art festival, I want them to really mean all of it, not just the pretty stuff that looks good on Instagram. And I say that as someone who once spent an entire afternoon trying to understand a sculpture that clearly was just someone’s lunch leftovers glued together — so take my confusion with a pinch of salt.
I’ll never forget my first proper art festival day. I walked in expecting a bunch of paintings hung up in neat rows and maybe some music in the background. Instead I got blasted with sound art that sounded like someone’s neighbor was trying to fix an old TV, and a performance where people just stood really still for fifteen minutes. I sat there, thinking, “Is this performance or is someone’s phone stuck on silent mode?” Turns out it was performance. Part of the charm though, right? You either get it or you don’t, and most people exist somewhere in between.
Exhibitions were the first thing I wandered into — traditional stuff, or so I thought. But Indian art festivals have this weird ability to turn even a simple canvas into a conversation starter. One piece made me think of my messy college room; another looked like someone spilled their coffee in exactly the shape of India. Exhibitions here are less about “what does it mean?” and more about “how does it make me feel?” Which is kind of amazing if you ask me, because sometimes art tries too hard to be profound, and this feels like art just being.
Then I stumbled into Performances. Now, I love music and dance, but at an art festival? It’s different. One minute you’re watching a classical musician tuning their instrument, the next you’re in this fusion set where the beat drops so hard I nearly spilled my chai. I couldn’t tell you all the technical names of the pieces, but I felt them. There was one performance where the artist kept moving these huge pieces of fabric around the stage. I was confused at first, but some girl next to me whispered, “It’s like watching the wind get bored and decide to dance.” And honestly, best description I heard all day.
Workshops are where the real messiness begins — in the best way. I once attended a printmaking workshop thinking I’d end up with something that resembled art. Instead I made this blob of ink that kind of looked like a sad blobfish. But that was okay. The person leading it was encouraging and silly, made jokes about ink getting everywhere, and by the end I wasn’t thinking about whether my blobfish was good art — I was just enjoying making it. That’s why workshops are amazing. They drag you out of your comfort zone. They make you try new things. And they give you memories that are way better than a nice photo on your phone. The chaos of paint on my shirt was worth it.
Talks are another wild card. I used to avoid them, thinking they’d be one step away from a boring lecture. But no. Art festival talks are like overhearing a super interesting conversation in a cafe, except you’re supposed to listen. I went to this one talk on art and technology where the speaker compared creativity to cooking biryani — you need the right mix, but nothing is set in stone and everyone has their own secret recipe. I laughed out loud because that analogy hit home. Sure, sometimes the talks get a bit deep and philosophical, but even those moments are part of the fun. You leave thinking about ideas you never thought you’d think on a random Saturday.
And then there’s the part that most people don’t expect — the Film Screening segment. I wasn’t too hyped about this before I actually sat down for one. I thought it’d be like any other indie film night. But the festival versions are different. They’re shorter, experimental, sometimes weirdly poetic, and occasionally leave you wondering whether that 10-minute silent film was actually just someone’s elevator ride. One short I watched was basically a montage of people walking across different Indian cities with only ambient sound — no narration, no music. Just footsteps and street noise. I swear, it felt like a meditation on movement. I walked out of that screening feeling strangely zen, like I’d just done yoga by accident.
The crowd at these festivals is… indescribable. You get people who are super into art history, and you get people who are just there because they thought there’d be fun food. Someone once took a selfie with me behind a giant installation and said, “You have to post this, it’s aesthetic!” I just laughed because that’s honestly a huge part of the culture now. People love the experience first, the meaning later. TikTok and Instagram have this weird way of turning abstract art into trendy backdrops — and you know what, if that helps more people show up? Great. As long as someone ends up actually appreciating the art, even a little bit, I’m happy.