Moers Festival 2025 (Part 1)

Photos by author, unless otherwise indicated.

By Paul Acquaro 

 

(Controlled) chaos is a feature of the Moers Festival. After spending the Pentecost holiday weekend wandering, encountering, and enjoying the unpredictability, I have to say: I came to quite like it. 

 

Everywhere one looked, there was something new to see, hear and experience. The festival grounds featured food trucks and hippie clothing as well as children's stages and pop-up stages. The musical foci were dizzying: from an emphasis on Japanese and African musicians, to a delegation of two distinct sets of musicians from China, as well as a collaboration with the Huddersfield Contemporary Music Festival (hcmf//), a/k/a the UK’s largest international festival of new and experimental music, as well as a range of performers from Angelica Sanchez to Wadada Leo Smith. Featured in stand-alone shows or in new configurations, the players came together on the various stages, ranging from both indoor and outdoor large stages, to smaller ones in the festival's market square, like the moveable Japanese inspired paper walled construct Club Jazz Byobu, the piano-mobile that crawled between the festival grounds and city, cafes in the city center, and even a set of scissor and boom construction lifts that raised performers 50 feet above the festival grounds. 

 

Add to this creative mayhem the festival's current motto 'Stille' ('still,' as in quiet, peaceful, tranquil, silence) and the lively party gets even more surreal. What could that possibly mean amidst the hustle and bustle of the fairgrounds? How does such a theme align with Caspar Brötzmann's bass-led aerial assault at 11 p.m. from the raised platform? Sure, it could be easily linked with the reductionist music of the Zhao Cong, Zhu Wenbo and Sun Yizhou, but what about the sonic blasts of Lao Dan or heart-stopping stomps of Marmar? One can simply cast aside a festival theme, often they are easily expendable; however, there was something to this idea, which at once seemed to be in opposition to an experimental music festival, but also carried a certain resonance, but we can come back to this later.

 

It is often tempting to write about a festival as a series of musical sets, easily discernible from each other, but when faced with the perplexity of Moers, the experience becomes something more fluid, something you need to figure out yourself. One must take out the playful looking program and chart a path as best they can and then embrace the adventure. Let's do exactly this...

Friday, Day 1

 

Arriving in Moers on Friday afternoon, the shuttle bus from the train station offered a chance encounter with the group from Shenzhen, China. Dedicated to creating and fostering a creative music scene in their city, they run Old Heaven Books, a book shop, record label and cafe, the B10 Live music space, as well as organize the OCT-LOFT and Tomorrow music festivals. Free-jazz saxophonist Lao Dan was also onboard. Having recently acquired his new solo recording To Hit a Pressure Point (Relative Pitch Records, 2025), I was looking forward to hearing him play. So, only a few minutes in the city and it already seemed like a promising start to the weekend. 

 

Actually, it took a little while to get oriented. The festival - in what I learned was in a slightly new configuration - was set up generally around a large recreation park with an event hall, an ice rink and a huge water slide and swimming pool (if it had only been a bit warmer...). The aforementioned festival grounds were essentially a market with a selection of food trucks and clothing vendors and open to all, as were several of the smaller stages. Inside the main hall were two record vendors with an ever tempting selection of wares. Off to one side of the fair grounds, the open air stage, and a 20-minute walk through the adjacent city park got one into the old city of Moers where another series of events always seemed to be happening. The choice overload was nearly paralyzing, but somehow I fought my way to a decision and made my way to the open-air stage where Spinifex was set to perform. 

 

Spinifex Maxximus

This year is the Netherlands based group's 20th anniversary. The core players are main composer and alto saxophonist Tobias Klein , along with Moers artist-in-residence and trumpeter Bart Maris , saxophonist John Dikeman, guitarist Jasper Stadhouders , bassist Goncalo Almeida and drummer Philipp Moser . For a series of concerts during this China Anniversary year, they have added violist Jessica Pavone, cellist Elisabeth Coudoux and vibraphonist Evi Filippou, resulting in their manifestation as Spinifex Maxximus.

 

The show was a perfect musical start to the festival. The big group had a correspondingly big sound, with a fire breather like Dikeman on baritone sax and the facile playing of Almeida on electric bass, that would seem to be unavoidable. They launched with a heavy riff over which a free group improv ensued. Melodies with complimenting counter harmonies developed, the lines weaving between the different players, belying a great deal of compositional work too. In a later tune, Pavone led the group with a quasi-classical melody, which then sequenced into passage with Stadhouser and Fillipou exchanging fierce lines that were as much free-jazz as Appalachian folk. Vacillating between hard landing riffs and spritely arranged horn passages, the set was a great chance to also hear Maris play, who although he was the artist-in-residence, was more involved with children programs and activities surrounding the festival than featured in concert. 

 

Jonas Gerigk and Ying Yang

After the set, there seemed to be a long break before the next concert. After wandering about the festival market place, I stumbled on the 'Traktor Stage' where a "Freysinn" set, one of 12 musician organized concerts of the festival, was happening. This one was with with bassist Jonas Gerigk and violinist Ying Yang , two young music students from Koeln. Shortly afterwards, a pianist was playing "Ueber'm Platz," which was one of the platforms that hoisted the musicians over the festival grounds.

 

Darius Held on the scissor lift. Phpt

Exciting in concept, however pianist Darius Held's minimalist solo performance was rather inaudible and the spectacle of the raised stage wore off soon enough (something to do with that the musicians having to wear a safety vest somehow detracted from the experience - I know, safety first). What I didn't realize is that while I was bumbling about the fairground, a (reportedly) excellent set was playing out under the guise of the "moers sessions!" at the larger outdoor stage, while a collection of British musicians from the Huddersfeld Festival contingent were quietly taking-over the downtown spaces, a couple of kilometers away. 

 

By the time for what I had erroneously considered the next concert, darkness had enveloped the festival and in the cozy night-time mood surrounding the open air stage. Marmar, a sound-world creator who blends traditional Kazakh folk music with modern experimental sounds, was about to go on. 

 

Marmar. Photo by Dennis Hoeren

The blast of sound from the stage was not unexpected, but it certainly did shatter the stillness. From under an eerie green glow on the stage, the surgical mask covered face of Marmar peeked out from under a hooded sweatshirt. He held an electric bass in hand and stood before an electronics bedecked table. A massive, throbbing sound emanating from the cloaked figure as he tweaked devices on the table. Feedback and deep guttural whispers shook the dirt and made ripples in the sky. It was a bit frightening, but it was also magnetic. Off to my side, I noticed Lao Dan and made a gesture to him in which I tried to express that the music was slowly unscrewing my face but I was okay with this effect. I'm not sure what he actually understood of this.

Saturday, Day 2

 

Starting today, I wasn't going to miss a thing, I wouldn't waste a beat, and so after breakfast, I began a trek into the city to see what was happening on the other side of the festival. 

 

Getting across the city park and old "Schloss Park", a landscaped garden full of beautiful mature trees and a flowing stream, took about 15 minutes or longer if one took a moment to check out the skate-park or the birds gathered along the stream banks. On the other side, past the medieval castle that once anchored the city in the 12th century, past the stately 19th century Renaissance style former town hall, and the Evangelical Church building dating from the mid 15th century, at the small nick-nack gift shop 'Villa Woelkchen' (Little Cloud Villa), Zhao Cong, from the group of musicians from Beijing , was performing a solo piece on "objects."

 

Zhao Cong

A perfect setting really. Small Christmas tree ornaments and porcelain curios lined the precisely and densely packed display shelves, while Cong was in the middle, her table set up with a mixer, a stainless steel cup with water, an array of little objects and many contact mics. This was her sound laboratory for the moment, and the small store was soon packed with curious onlookers. Cong blew up a balloon and when it popped confetti rained down. She placed an effervescent tablet in the cup and amplified the fizzing. She used many objects that clicked and clacked, moving gracefully through the constricted room, activating sounds from everything. How someone did not knock over a delicate tchotchke may have been the most impressive part of all. 

 

Jan Klare and Charlotte Keefe 

Next, the duo of British trumpeter Charlotte Keefe and German saxophonist Jan Klare (who was also in charge of the 'moers sessions') were scheduled to play at a cafe around the corner. Not feeling ready for a beer, I settled for a decent milchkaffee (or was it a cappuccino? my notes are lacking here) and waited. I was quickly learning that for these small in-town sets, they fill up quickly, so you needed to be early and patient. This is also where I overheard Keefe and Klare meeting for the first time, mere minutes before they were set to perform as a duo. 

 

The set was fantastic. There was not even a hint of hesitation between them, rather, they launched right into it as the sun beamed through the window behind them. Keefe utilized the full range of possibilities from her horns, playing clear, lively melodic strands and breathy washes of tone alike. Supporting, as well as instigating, Klare reacted in kind. Melodic statements mixed with spluttering tones, distorted notes blended with hissing sounds. Keefe's quick switch to the flugelhorn, whose rounder tone blended even more nicely with the alto sax as Klare launched into a more syncopated, jaunty lines. Both seemed to be physically moved by the sounds, bobbing, dipping and swaying to the interplay. 

 

 

Elisabeth Coudoux, Willi Kellers Gonçalo Almeida, and Thilo Schoelpen

After a walk back through the park to the main festival grounds, it was almost time for the 'moers sessions' at 2 p.m. The first set was the combination of cellist Elisabeth Coudoux, bassist Gonçalo Almeida, pianist Thilo Schoelpen , and drummer Willi Kellers.Their set turned out to be a welcome blast of good ol' free jazz. The group started with the flames on high and kept turning it up until the heat began escaping not only from the instruments in hand but in a series of excited screams from Coudoux. Next, saxophonist Hayden Chisholm, violist Jessica Pavone and pianist Darius Heid took an opposite approach. Minimalist and delicate, the set was a test of tension and restraint, the birds in the park were louder. Then, after a sudden downpour, the third set began with saxophonist John Dikeman, electronicist Achim Zepezauer, pianist Rieko Okuda and percussionist Jonas Evenstad. It was a free-jazz sandwich, the piano was ablaze with sharp tonal splats and jabs, the drums setting the energy level on high. After dialing it back for a moment, a gentle rumble of the piano led to a saxophone fueled melee of unbridled intensity.

 

bBb bBb: Lao Dan and the duo of Li Daiguo

I cannot say I recall what happened after this set, I must have wandered around, bumped into people and said hello, perhaps I ate some pizza ... that is usually correct ... and then it was time for bBb bBb (the duo of Li Daiguo & Lao Dan) on the outdoor stage. The duo began with a set that seemed to blend tradition and modern techniques. Li Daigou, an American born, China based, multi-instrumentalist approaches the lute-like pipa guitaristically. Lao Dan, playing a wooden flute, seemed to bring forth traditional melodies but, again, in a more contemporary manner. The two settled into a groove that encouraged some heads bopping in the audience. After cycling through the flutes, a naked mouth piece, and an alto clarinet-like instrument with a long, flexible neck, Lao Dan turned to his saxophone. Li Daigou had also pivoted from the pipa to the piano, creating a different atmosphere by interjecting beat-boxing. Then, like the sporadic cloudbursts that had been happening all day, the two let out a deluge of sound. The minimal piano lines and the fiery shredding of the saxophone began to peel back the layers of reality. This was something gobsmackingly new.

 

After the enthusiastic applause, it was just a few short minutes before Willi Keller's The Circle,with drummer Kellers, saxophonist Hans-Peter Hiby, pianist Rieko Okuda and bassist Meinrad Kneer began. The newish quartet seems to have gelled over the past year or so, performing in the current line up first at Jazzwerkstatt Peitz 2024 when Keller received the first Brandenburg Jazz Prize. 

 

Willi Keller's The Circle

The group began with the vibrating sounds of Hiby and Kneer. Keller and Okuda entered shortly thereafter, slowly building humming intensity. The piano was an agitating force, while Keller and Kneer laid a strong foundation. Then, Hiby began pushing fiercely, waves of intensity followed, the players retracting, regathering, and attacking again and again. Okuda physically bounced against the keyboard, before she began striking the piano from the inside. Hiby played tightly-wound lines, and the entire band pulled in, rigid, taut, thrumming and humming away. If there was a gauge, the needle would have been hovering between sizzling orange and boiling red, but they never quite went over the edge.

 

Somewhat in parallel, in the main hall, there was a moderated talk happening called "Kunst, Kritik oder Antisemitismus?" Over the past two years, there has been much criticism and protest over the war in Israel. The siege of the Gaza strip following the October 7th, 2022 Hamas attack has resulted in profound loss of life and profoundly impacted politics, including how artists have used their sets at festivals. I only heard the tail-end of the talk but it is impressive that Moers dedicated a series of talks to address these issues that have been ripping through society.

 

 

Chronograffiti. Photo by Zalesskaya 

The set that followed was a percussion based piece by Koshiro Hino called Chronograffiti. Through an evolution of drumming, first a set of players from the renowned Taiko group Kodo playing at an increasing tempo, adorned by flashing lights, to then a single player on a large drum in the front of the stage area, and finally to a piece with again multiple drummers. The crowd was enthusiastic, underscoring that the diversity of the music ensured something unconventional for everyone. 

 

Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters

The day was feeling already quite full, but there was still much to come. The next event being the highly anticipated Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters. The group, which came together in 2023, is a timely update to free-jazz, freely mixing elements of electronics, hip-hop, rock and free improvisation. Under a blanket of fog, the groups two electronicists, Gabriele Mitelli and Mariam Rezaei, flanked by saxophonist Mette Rasmussen and drummer Lukas Koenig, ignited with passionate fury -- they began at full throttle and took it from there. A potent moment arose when their volume level reduced to an electronic throb, and while Rasmussen started a long drone, Mitelli spat out sharp licks on his pocket trumpet, which he seemed to favor for long stretches of the set. Soon, Koenig settled into a sludgy groove and the band reached the first of several energetic peaks.  

 

 

Lao Dan

Stumbling out of the event hall into the cooler evening air on the market square, it was just in time to see Lao Dan being hoisted into the air on the scissor lift. Sounds, first of a sampled guitar and electronic drones, followed by his flute, permeated the skies around the festival, shaking the entire area. Half way through this unusual set, Lao Dan began to focus on electronics entirely, using a stick like object to control the sound. Watching his dramatic expressive gestures with the saber, he did seem a bit like a Jedi from afar.

 

After all of that, a nightcap did seem in order. Back in the large hall, random expectation, a collective of Chinese and German players* amassed on stage to offer a gentle, minimalist lullaby. 

 

That did the trick, good night! See you tomorrow for more Moers action.

random expectation. Photo by Dennis Hoeren

*random expectation: Sun Yizhou (feedback), Zhu Wenbo (cl, tapes), Zhao Cong (objects), Tan Shuoxin (electr), Simon Rummel (microtonal harmonium), Thilo Schoelpen (p, feedback), Matthias Kaiser (prepared and amplified violin)