“Somerville wants to abuse you / Somerville wants to be used by you”

The above words (which you can hear being performed by the Forward! Marching Band in the clip above) were the first thing that really struck me at the HONK! festival. A riff on the lyrics of the popular song “Sweet Dreams” by Eurythmics, this is a sort of rallying cry for HONK!

I wasn’t sure what to expect from HONK! I had been primed with some expectations, having read articles and oral histories of the festival and even meeting a couple of the organizers, so I did have an idea of what to look out for, but when I arrived in Davis Square on Saturday, October 12th 2019, I nonetheless walked in largely cold, knowing only that I would hang out there for at least a few hours and try to document as much as I could as authentically as I could in that time. So I started by simply filming everything I saw as I entered. The resultant clip (above), while admittedly unpolished (and much to my chagrin, filmed vertically - I apologize for the suboptimal viewing experience on most devices), shows you what I saw almost as if through my own eyes. 

I didn’t have a clear focus on exactly what I would focus on at the festival, instead hoping to authentically document my experience and see what arose out of it. While I was primed to focus on certain things - activism, use of public space, music of course - these actually ended up being some of the most interesting things. I also wanted to see exactly how HONK! made use of its space in Davis Square on that Saturday. Did HONK! use Somerville? Did it abuse it?

What I found was that HONK! uses its space caringly, lovingly, and intentionally. View the map below. The festival is fairly contiguous, centered around an art space on Elm St., around which local businesses carry on as usual, many taking advantage of the festival for the best business day of their year. Another POV video shows my walk through part of this space, noting several of the art installations. When a spectator arrives at HONK!, they become surrounded by it. The seven stages, spread out as they are, are close enough together that one can easily walk from one end to the other in the space of a few minutes.

The festival organizers cannot be accused of not paying attention to detail. Their desire to create an inclusive and conscious space is evidenced by extra recycling bins placed throughout the festival space as well as a water fountain set up on Elm St. in a central location, even having bowls on the ground so that dogs can stay hydrated as well. The water station even marketed drinking local water. HONK! made the space truly their own on that Saturday. Every stage location had a sign indicating the acts.

What I found surprisingly effective about HONK! was how well-organized it felt, even though there was minimal presence of volunteers and organizers. Attention had clearly been given to the planning, but the whole thing came across fairly effortlessly. Band transitions happened fairly quickly (even if I once did overhear a band member expressing uncertainty over where exactly they were supposed to be playing). There were information booths in Statue Park (a sort of ground zero for the festival) but that seemed to be the only place of official HONK! presence. While Elm St. was shut down and there were Somerville police barriers set up in a few spaces, there was minimal police presence as well, less so even than at least one festival-goer I overheard would have liked. In a sense, the overall atmosphere of HONK! can be described as organized chaos. And in a way this is exactly what they want - just enough organization that the thing can be pulled off with minimal issue, but not enough that it feels like a fully organized or worse, corporate, venture. HONK! is a world of its own, but a transient one.

When one enters HONK!, they are enveloped by sound and colors, often clashing against one another. But that is part of what makes it so cool to be a part of. 

Ultimately I do believe HONK! lives up to its goal to “Reclaim the Streets for Horns, Bikes, and Feet”. I can’t say I saw many bikes in Davis Square, but there were a lot of feet, and a lot of horns for sure, and a lot of activism. The ways activism manifested in the space were fascinating as well. On a basic level, all of the bands are or were in some way activist. And indeed, even if you had no idea what HONK! was, it would be nearly impossible to go there without realizing it was a truly activist space. People everywhere had clipboards to sign petitions, wearing shirts proclaiming their beliefs, or waving posters. Bands chanted in a call and response: “Power to the people - no one is illegal!” A sticker worn on many people’s clothes boldly declared: “Trump/Pence must go!” Look below for pictures of many of these.

Significantly, too, all of this is free, open to anybody and everybody. In this sense HONK! is truly egalitarian; indeed, the organizing committee is non-hierarchical. HONK! lives up to the activist desires of many of its bands and organizers for all people to be truly equal. In my time at the festival, I saw people happily using public space to enjoy themselves, but also to engage in important work. Nothing at HONK! is directly doing anything to change the state of the world outside it, but for one weekend, HONK! creates a transcendent space of its own, filled with music and laughter and love.

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As the Forward Marching Band proclaimed, our public spaces are sitting there, often left unused. HONK! reminds us that they are there for us, to be used, wanting to be used, maybe even abused. This is a faulty document; all documents are. I cannot fully recreate HONK! through words and images and sounds; memory fades, as with any live moment. But I felt it when I was there, and hope that these words and images and sounds may at least begin to approximate what it is like to really be at the festival. But in a way the transience of HONK! is what makes it so notable. For one weekend a year, Somerville and Cambridge are transformed into an exceptional space. HONK! puts the next play in the control of the attendee. And that is how it needs to be. It lives in our memories but challenges us to go out and continue what it started.