Tourism in Croatia has been on a steady increase during the past two decades, but few would have guessed it would become such an eden for music-heads. The country plays host to around twenty music festivals this year, with Soundwave, Defected, Dimensions, Outlook and Dekmantel-spinoff Selectors among those taking place in the upcoming month alone. Those who’ve partied on the Adriatic Sea will testify that it’s about as close to paradise as a festival can get.
The festival credited with kicking the whole thing off is The Garden, which started out as a 300-strong party in the sleepy village of Petrcane. Over the course of ten years, the Garden grew and, under pressure from local businesses, moved down the Dalmation coast to an idyllic secluded bay just outside the town of Tisno. Regardless, it never lost its reputation for being an intimate, friends-and-family affair. Even at its peak, numbers were rather humble in festival terms – 3000 at the most – proof of the founders’ commitment to, above all, a good party.
You can understand, then, why regulars felt a sense of loss when founders Nick and Charlotte Colgan and Eddie and Gail O’Callaghan brought The Garden to an end last year. Thankfully, they left its legacy in the capable hands of Garden’s longtime booker Dave Harvey (of Futureboogie and Team Love) who, having both met and married his now-wife at the festival, had a more personal attachment to it than most. And the founders will no doubt be involved with the new incarnation in some capacity: they own the venue at Tisno, Barbarella’s club and the brewery which serves the bars on site.
Dave and his Team Love partner Tom Paine launched Love International early this July. For all intents and purposes, it was the same party as The Garden with the same (slightly older) crowd, and their return must have reassured the new organisers. But a change in identity and renewed media interest also attracted a fresh set to the site, myself included. The festival opened the week after the EU referendum, days after England had been ejected from France with their tails between their legs. There could not have been a more welcome opportunity to scarper. Love International – a name which at first had struck me as slightly naff – now beckoned like a clarion call for hope and peace, an antidote to the chants of “We want our country back”.
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We arrived at the festival on Friday morning, having given it a good two days to warm up. Friends described it as chilled out but we’d underestimated to what extent. It was so quiet, we managed to cross the site from one side to the other and break out trying to find our way in. 11am at other festivals has looked a lot hairier. Formerly a holiday camp for state oil workers, the site was set into a natural amphitheatre overlooking the ocean. At the top was the restaurant and accommodation, although myself and everyone I met had chosen to stay in Tisno town, twenty minutes walk away. Down by the bay were three stages, the Beach Bar, the Olive Grove and the Main Stage, with bars and food stalls peppered in between.
A pier extended out from the beach, with two olde-worlde boats – the Martina and the Argonaughty – making daily excursions for various pre-paid parties. Opposite the pier was a welcome spot of shade: a large collection of rocks and rockpools, dappled by the trees above, where downtempo instrumental acts would play each day. As enticing as some of the artists were, we chose to stay in Tisno until the early evening where you could lay in the sun, take a swim and get some decent seafood. Of course, we felt immediate regret on hearing rave reviews from those who’s been sparky and rejuvenated enough to make it to the site earlier, but not quite enough regret to alter our routine. The festival site itself closed at two, at which point you could wander home or get a taxi/bus/speedboat to Barbarella’s, the infamous open-air club set deep in the Croatian countryside.
With Dave, Tom and many of the organisers and their friends based in Bristol, it wasn’t a surprise to see a Bristol-heavy presence at the festival. Being a big fan of Bristol’s Dirtytalk, I was excited to see Prosumer play at their boat party but unfortunately arrived a day too late.
We managed to take two boat trips in the end, which felt enough and not too many. Pardon My French and Ben UFO played on Crack Magazine’s cruise and Young Marco on Troublevision’s. Pardon My French performed the perfect Balearic warm up, offsetting euphoric grooves like Massimiliano Pagliara’s instrumental ‘Flying Away From You’ with belters like Hannulelauri’s ‘Super Monkey’ against a backdrop of an orange evening sun. Cliched as it sounds, listening to good music while watching the sun set over crystal waves can make you feel pretty alright about life.
Ben UFO followed with what many of us left thinking was the performance of the festival, working his magic to such an extent that even tracks I am certain I don’t like, I liked. Nozinja’s ‘Xihukwani’ was a high moment, as was Same People’s ‘Dangerous’ but it was when the jungle finale kicked in – Hopa & Bones’ Mystical Horns – that things really went off.
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Young Marco, one of the most consistently exciting DJs to my mind, played a predictably good set on the Troublevision boat party, and showed a different side of himself when playing back-to-back with Motor City Drum Ensemble at Barbarella’s. Seeing the two playing a mash-up of genres and having such fun doing it was a genuinely sweet and memorable moment. Saying that, the mood skipped slightly too much during Motor City’s last few hours, when I at least could have done with less of the tinny disco and more repetitive banging techno to carry me through. During the odd tenth hour of dancing, you wanted just a bit more oomph than the widely Balearic offering.
Other highlights included Suzanne Kraft, Hunee, Taka Sumo, everything at the Olive Grove and Mark Seven at the Beach Bar. The Swedish producer provided his usual mix of disco, 80s electro and chugging house – Palermo Disco Squad’s ‘Palermo Theme’ and his own edits of ‘Pleasure Boys’ and ‘Dial Theory (Tony’s Slice)’ to name a few – and managed to keep lagging spirits high on the close of Sunday night.
With many of the DJs playing twice over the course of the festival and stages just metres apart, there was no fear of missing out or slog from one stage to the next. I was told by a lot of people that DJs go to the festival for their holiday, they play for the night and stay for the week, and it’s easy to understand why. There was nothing arduous about Love International. You don’t come home quite as broken or traumatised as other festivals.
Many of those we came across had been coming for years – most knew someone who was playing – but rather than being cliquey they were incredibly inclusive. The team at the Garden managed to grow the festival without conceding that sense of community. It was nice to hear that, according to the old guard, Love International are carrying on that tradition.
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Words: Amelia Phillips
