The blackbird sings when it is not afraid.
(Foreword to datt blatt 2026)
Bent candles stand on the windowsills. The sun burns; the things that need doing do not come easily. The plants’ dull green reveals their thirst, the meadows wear yellow, and many are waiting for rain, as I am. I should have written these lines on 3 November, when, after urgently needed surgery, I looked kindly out over a good Düsseldorf. I felt benevolent, open to everything and everyone, ready for an ode to humanity.
Surprisingly content with myself, the doctors, nurses, the building and the other patients, I wanted everyone to feel my warmth. Nothing was missing, nothing annoyed me, nothing seemed unfair. It would have been the perfect moment to write a captivating speech for the coming festival, to deliver passionately at the final gathering on Wednesday evening, 5 August 2026, and prepare us all for a carefree weekend of fantastic music and wonderful people. Bernd Begemann once described Haldern as gently gliding from one small sensation to the next.
That was how it felt on 3 November 2025; I remember it well. I also remember that I wrote nothing down that day. Now it is 14 July 2026, my mood is different, so much still needs to happen, and this newspaper goes to print at the weekend.
This text is one of many attempts to look positively towards the future, to put this year’s festival’s guiding thread on paper in understandable words, and describe our underlying motivation. That motivation may differ for each of us, provided it agrees with our fundamental principle of not blindly submitting to the industry’s automatic mechanisms. What we share most strongly in this celebration is pride in having kept the ball in play for so long, resisted the market’s temptations, so that our children can now begin to familiarise themselves with taking responsibility. But how strongly marked may such a baton be without hanging tonnes of expectations around their necks?
All small children need love. As they grow up, however, they develop personalities that may differ greatly from their parents’ personalities and views. Some parents react with dismay because they believe they no longer recognise themselves in their child and therefore think they have lost the child, when the child has simply become an independent person. This was Brian Jones’s experience: after an irreparable falling-out with his parents, particularly his father, he founded the Rolling Stones at nineteen. At this sensitive meeting point between generations, we want to leave room for the new and contemporary without losing sight, amid change, of the central motives to which the festival owes its history. Much must keep changing so that everything can remain as it is.
A few weeks ago, Musikwoche asked Haldern Pop some fundamental questions about how the festival sees itself:
How would you describe Haldern Pop’s philosophy, and what are its central differences from large corporate festivals?
We find in order to search: which is actually more relevant, the question or the answer? What we see across the board is a market-driven attempt to shamelessly exploit the remnants of what was once young people’s utopia. That utopia concerned shaping the world together, accepting one another and reaching out. A business grew out of it that planted and packaged those naïve ideals in young people as a marketing credo. Our philosophy is to keep sight of the original motives outlined above, cultivate a love of music and hold our diverse community together. We sell tickets to put on a festival in our village. Increasingly, though, festivals are planned simply to sell tickets. Over the years, Haldern Pop became a social sculpture, a responsibly orchestrated utopia.
Haldern Pop has existed since 1984. What have been your most important changes over those years?
We were lucky to learn and gain experience together in a manageable time, without far-reaching commentary. We slipped into the market as friends, without an agenda and head over heels in love with our idea, discovering and learning to appreciate the abilities of others. We emancipated ourselves from expectations and developed a distinctive style and a culture that accepts mistakes, which helps our resilience today. Haldern Pop stands for trust in surprise and for a place for young artists that has grown over decades, with international reputation and history. We have learned to trust music’s future, to give it a stage and an audience.
Your capacity is around 7,000 people a day at most. How difficult is it to operate economically on those ticket revenues and keep going amid the challenges of the festival business?
It is a livelihood that lets us arrive. The kitchen light is still on because we are here, because caring matters more and more to us, and because we bring ourselves into relationships as human beings. We do not want to obey a market because we have developed oversized expectations. Haldern Pop is an interplay of trust among all the people we connect with, directly or indirectly, at this festival, in the village and the region. As an organiser, you make the first move, sometimes years ahead, if you have a powerful imagination. How do you define success? Is selling out the sole reason for an event, or does it need a far more dramatic story, a scenario that touches everyone, a feeling? We cannot and do not want to deny reality, but we still cook as deliciously on Monday as on Saturday, stay present and look after one another, especially when there are fewer than 7,000.
How many tickets for Haldern Pop 2026 have already been sold?
Enough that almost all of us can sleep well.
What criteria do you use to book bands? Are any styles excluded?
Curating a festival and the Haldern Pop Bar is an important task within our organism. You learn every day if you remain curious. Genre plays an ever smaller role; that is something I have learned over time. How you play matters much more than what you play. Good music has an incredible depth and enchants people in very different ways. When you read that we are a singer-songwriter or indie festival, you know people have not really engaged with our development. Where we are does not have to be the front. We propose what excites us. Seduction is allowed; showing people up never is.
Festivals today are often promoted as havens, bulwarks or supporters of democracy. Do you see a certain over-politicisation of festivals? Does Haldern Pop have its own political or social agenda?
We are in favour of believing in something. That begins with yourself. It matters to create something together and face the future to take away one another’s fear. We can learn from our children that anticipation is a child of the future. We look for things in common, without demanding 100 per cent agreement. Individuality is the salt in the soup.
How would you describe the 2026 line-up?
It resembles love at second, perhaps third sight. It draws you through heights and depths to touch you, exciting and calming at once: storytelling, not marching.
So far, so good. Just two days later in Westphalia…
After an entertaining lunch, I explain my idea for the Datt Blatt text: Brian Jones’s story, a chicken competition for the most beautiful eggs where the biggest always win, opiates after knee surgery, the loss of room to manoeuvre in our lives, algorithms, Hartmut Rosa, uncontrollability, fantasies and imagination, good friends, swimming and the mistaken ambition to always do everything right. The word “always” itself deserves thought. My philosophical counterpart took a deep breath, tilted his head slightly and, with a knowing smile, told me to try less and, above all, be more structured.
We live in a shameless time, with shameless philosophers. Precisely for that reason, we need shameless ideas. “Always”, “everything” and “anyway” can take a break. A little, soon, perhaps. Sometimes you have to put on Wildling shoes to feel the ground, the good reason beneath you.
We dribble between the interests of our time, want to avoid becoming too political, and remain a lovable place of diversity, individuality and hospitality. The mind creates the best connections, and experience teaches us that the future is small.
Autocorrect pretends to help, yet often makes the wrong decisions, as some well-meaning parents-in-law also like to do. So we want to keep fighting to prevent formulaic rules from adding up to a formulaic life. A cheerful “Good morning” can open up the sky, simply and honestly taking effect. The future is small, like the length of our arms, our steps, children, places and possibilities. Believing firmly in yourself means swimming if you can and dancing when it fits, with sensitivity and judgement.
St. Reichmann
Haldern & Kaltern Pop
Photo: Christoph Buckstegen
