Bodies and Movement at HONK!
Though I attended only a small number of the musical performances at HONK!’s Main Stage in Harvard Square on Sunday, October 13, 2019, I observed during this brief encounter a few characteristics that broke my expectations and set it apart from festivals I had attended in the past. Most of these were rooted in the people in attendance, and the ways they interacted both with the space around them and with one another. In other words, the ways bodies operated in the environment of HONK!.
Exiting the T Station, I was bombarded by sights and sounds. The square was startlingly packed. While attendees tended to be on either the older or younger ends of the spectrum, the crowd generally reflected a diverse age range. This also, of course, suggested that the event effectively catered to people of varying degrees of physical ability and mobility, and one of the most pleasant observations I noted early on was the presence of audience members watching from camping chairs, scooters, and wheelchairs, sitting right next to standing attendees. Babies perched upon shoulders, and people who couldn’t see from the back stood atop ledges to get a better view. HONK! attendees adapted the space of Harvard Square to fit every need.
Despite the crowded space, I noticed a roughly five-foot gap directly in front of the stage. While this sometimes served as a pathway for band members passing through to get from one place to another, the gap also became an unofficial dance floor during each musical performance. Attendees young and old alike took over this "empty" space to move to the music, oftentimes with complete strangers. During these moments of exhilaration, it almost looked to me as if the energy of the band was being transferred down to the dancers in the gap and then through to the rest of the crowd. In a video I captured of the closing act of Emperor Norton’s Stationary Marching Band, I focus my camera on the various actors in this chain reaction. The wild audiovisual of the stage. The joyous frenzy in the gap. The waving and clapping in the masses. The cycle of energy.
In fact, the interaction between band and audience appears to be the key linkage in the creation of movement at HONK!. The Forward! Marching Band’s performance is a particularly strong example of this. Throughout their set, they called on the audience to clap along, waving their fists as one band member shouted over the megaphone. In this setting, dancing also functioned as a direct reaction to the music being played. Whether audience members spinning in the gap, or individuals in the crowd shaking side to side, bodily movement was constant. The unique size of the Main Stage performance space was perfect for this dynamic. Anything larger would come off as isolating. Anything smaller would feel awkward. With a few hundred people in attendance, however, enough people responded to each call to action to fill the space without drowning anyone out.
Of course, the greatest distinguishing aspect of HONK! from typical outdoor festivals is the fact that everything is purportedly umbrellaed under the goal of activism. How does movement factor into this goal? On the one hand, there is explicit activist action, such as the “die-in” that occurred before the Main Stage performances started. However, these are not the movements that interest me. Rather, I wanted to know how HONK! Main Stage remains consistent with the ideal of an activist festival when, on the surface, many of its attendees are simply… dancing.
Viewing HONK! as a group moment in time, the connection between movement and activism becomes clear. The type of solidarity fostered within the confines of Harvard Square meant that even random participants who hadn’t planned to be at the festival were contributing to what I'm calling "embodied support" for whatever cause had the spotlight. It is the same type of physical bond that exists in marches and protests in the street, except combined and enhanced by the unifying force of music. In this way, the only determining factor as to whether or not HONK! is "activist" in nature lies in the fact of participation itself. The goals of the organizers, of the performers, and of individual attendees all derive support from that. The logical conclusion is that there is no set structure to activism.
Where do I stand in this? I can’t say I was dancing with everyone else, but I was certainly moving. Most of my video footage is somewhat shaky due to my own bobbing to the beat, and when I wasn’t capturing media, my head continued to move to the music. While part of this was in reaction to the music itself, much of the reason for my movement was simply the movement happening around me. In that energy-filled environment, it felt more awkward to not move than to move. As a result, even as an observer, I felt like a participant. The chants resonated deeper with me. The bands left greater impressions on me.
Leaving HONK! after just a couple hours, I felt tired. Not tired in the sense that I was fed up with something, but tired in the sense that I had expended a lot of energy. Meanwhile, the bands continued to play, and the crowd continued to dance, continuously engaging in a cycle of movement. I don’t think that would have been possible at a disengaging, low-energy event, so it’s safe to say that HONK! proved my expectations wrong.
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