Anxious folkies line the street, adorned in backpacks, tarps, and rainboots — it’s two in the afternoon, and the hill lies quiet. Site volunteers move equipment around at the last-minute, the beep of golf carts and hum of pickup trucks fill Gallagher Park, the final mainstage soundcheck ends, and bagpipes begin to play.
Edmonton Folk Music Festival began in August of 1980, and has stayed a tradition to Edmontonians new and old. The four-day festival hosts musical acts from around the world and mixes genres such as folk, country, bluegrass, R&B, and more. The festival had 2,300 volunteers and roughly 100,000 attendees in 2026.
It’s a 47-year-old celebration of community.
The crowd moves in, guided by volunteers in brightly coloured shirts. The hill is no longer green. The grounds are now covered in blue and orange tarps, and are filled with a year’s worth of anticipation.
40-year festival producer and Folk Fest veteran Terry Whickam chooses over 60 acts for the four-day festival each year.
“Make sure every artist is very good,” he says. Wickham typically turns down 100 musicians for each act that’s booked. “We make sure it’s fairly filtered down.”
The festival grounds are now bustling, and the lively chatter of folkies passes by the media tent. A musician that Whickam hand-picked for the festival is soundchecking in the distance.
Sarah Holmgren, a dedicated folk fest attendee and 13-year volunteer, points out that you don’t only need to be a fan of folk music to attend. “There’s rap, there’s hip hop, there’s folk, there’s Celtic, there’s country, there’s blues.”
This year, headliners included Nathaniel Ratliff, Thee Sacred Souls, and Corb Lund, each from distinct genres of music.
There are seven side-stages that host the festival’s smaller acts, and feature workshops — sessions where musicians booked at the festival play together.
“When people are jamming and creating spontaneous music together, it’s like a once-in-a-lifetime experience. You’re never gonna hear that again,” says Holmgren.
Whickam, who helped expand the festival’s size and capacity, recognizes the importance of keeping the festival’s costs low.
“Dynamic pricing, concert tickets costing a fortune. Everything is becoming for rich people. And here, community can afford to go,”
— Terry Whickam, festival producer
The festival is affordable and accessible, partly due to the work volunteers contribute.
If it weren’t for the support shown through the dedication of the volunteers, the festival wouldn’t be as monumental. They’re a backbone that props up the festival by keeping costs low through volunteer work, while also creating a safe and welcoming environment for fellow volunteers and attendees.
“We do our best to be really inclusive,” says Holmgren.
Folk Fest workers share a mutual understanding. The festival is an initiative to bring people together for the sake of music. Many different generations attend the festival.
For volunteers, the culture that they’ve formed since 1980 is intense. There are exclusive volunteer and musician after-parties that run all weekend, and a Christmas in July party.
Every year on July 25, volunteers arrive at Gallagher Park to reunite and have dinner before the chaos of folk fest weekend begins.
However, this year’s Folk Fest volunteer community has had it incredibly difficult compared to previous years. In December, long-time site-crew volunteer Charles Casumir Szaskiewicz passed away, shocking the close-knit volunteers.
On the Thursday afternoon before the festival grounds opened to the public, every volunteer and staff member took a moment to stop as bagpipes played Amazing Grace in remembrance.
“This whole festival this year, setting up just without him has been really hard,” says Holmgren.
Szaskiewicz originally created the tradition of remembering those who passed away through a song on bagpipes, “so it was very poignant, very many tears, lots of hugs, lots of moments,” says Holmgren.
Folk Fest is a celebration of community, collaboration, and positivity. Attendees and volunteers have created their own families at the festival, met their partners, or best friends — It’s a place where a lot of Edmontonians see each other for the first time all year.
Despite the loss this year, the festival prevailed, with Szaskiewicz’s memory and long-term dedication in mind.
“It’s like Christmas or birthdays, you notice who’s not there,”
— Terry Whickam, festival producer
As the four-day festival of laughter, tears, and dancing wrapped up, Gallagher Park grew quiet. Nathaniel Ratliff closes the festival with a nostalgic yet harmonious set. Attendees raised their lighters and candles and the whole hill was lit up.
If you’re planning on becoming part of the wonderful Folk Fest family next year, take advice from Edmonton Mayor Andrew Knack and his experience as a second-year attendee. He recommends bringing a chair to sit on during the festival, “It’s really not a pain to bring a chair, and then you’re ready,” says Knack.
“Bring your biggest heart and your friendliest smile, and you will have a good time,” says Holmgren.
