Chapter 9: Gärdesfesten 1970

Eva af Geijerstam

Dagens Nyheter, June 10, 1970.
On Monday evening Träd, Gräs och Stenar played at Pistolteatern to collect money for the festival that was supposed to take place at Skeppsholmen [a small island in the middle of the city] on Friday-Saturday-Sunday, but which now has to be moved to Gärdet [a huge field northwest of the city centre].... The reason why Träd, Gräs Och Stenar played at Pistolteatern was that the organisers of the Skeppsholm festival, who are largely the same as those who are participating in it, suddenly received a demand from the city of Stockholm’s Housing Committee for 50,000 kronor for any damaged lawns. The organisers then had two options: either cancel the festival or try to move it to Gärdet. To be able to publish a special festival magazine, prepare macrobiotic food, and obtain materials for musical instruments and children’s activities, the organisers had already received 21,000 kronor from the City of Stockholm, Rikskonserter and Modern Museet. This money came with the condition that the festival would take place on Skeppsholmen. Everyone who has worked for the festival has done so at cost price. The 30 or so bands that are to perform will do so for free. Those coming from out of town will only receive travel compensation. For a long time, it, therefore, looked as if the event would be cancelled. Planning since January would have gone to waste. Permission from the police and health authorities is now required to be at Gärdet. The new permit requires that another approximately 14,000 kronor must be given by the institutions that previously allocated 21,000 kronor. In any case, there will be a festival this weekend, a free party for everyone, with jazz, pop and folk music, with theatre and the opportunity for all kinds of activities – if permission from the police arrives on time. The demand for the 50,000 would otherwise prove to be the same as a “No” from the authorities.

Margareta Klingberg:

Planning for the first Gärdesfesten started in the fall of 1969 in Aktion samtal’s basement space by Odenplan [a plaza in central Stockholm]. Aktion samtal, later Arkiv samtal, was formed by a group of activists that, since the summer of 1968, had been trying to involve citizens in the city as their local environment and worked to build creative playgrounds and foster closeness between generations. Together with Jon, I participated in every preparatory evening meeting until it was time to start cranking the stencil press and handing out flyers on the street before the first party on Gärdet in June 1970. There was no permit from the authorities, but the concerts were still carried out. Bo Anders’s negotiations with the authorities are well documented by the film makers Olle Eriksson and Rainer Hartleb. In the end, it was still overwhelming to see the very improvised and simple stage rise up and become covered with tarps, and to hear the mobile gas-powered generator that made the amplified music possible – not least, the beautiful fusion between the rock band Contact and the young violinists of Skäggmanslaget. The list of bands eager to play, whose names you had previously neither heard nor known about, gradually became longer. After three days of free concerts under the open sky, the Swedish music movement was underway.

Bo Anders Persson:

Stockholm, Gärdet, 1970.
The stage floor had been driven there the night before; it lay stacked outside Konstfack, covered by a tarp. It was Friday, June 12 – the morning was overcast and the clouds would eventually turn out to contain rain. But the weather didn’t stop us, we just had to keep going. Because we had worked for a long time to realise the Party. The organising group contained a relatively fixed core, consisting of around 30 people who had met regularly for six months. We had had discussions with the city’s authorities for just as long: first of all, the Parks Department and especially their park theatre section, represented by a woman whose name I have forgotten. She probably did her job extremely well and became our very special anathema. Now, 20 years later [sic]... it is easy to smile at the questions we received and also at the answers we delivered. In summary, it sounded like this, freely from my memory:

– What is the name of your association?

– It’s not an association, we have formed a group for this occasion.

– Who are the leaders?

– We don’t have a board. Everyone participates on their own terms. Power corrupts.

– These music groups you speak of, what are they called?

– Oh, there are many, Handgjort, Gläns Över Sjö & Strand, Telefon Paisa, Smutsiga Hundarna, a band from Skåne that call themselves “Hoola Bandoola” or something like that, and then Gudibrallan, Träd, Gräs Och Stenar, and Gunder Hägg of course.

– Are these groups of any quality? I certainly haven’t heard of them!

– Oh, but we are going to have children’s games, folk music and immigrant groups as well! And a dance hall with old-time music.

– If there is to be dancing, you must have a special permit with hired security guards.

– We can’t guarantee that people won’t dance!

– How are we supposed to give a permit to an event which can’t be defined?

– Exactly, we want a new kind of party, parties of a kind that don’t exist these days!

Neither side was interested in communication flowing too easily across the lines of interest. So we didn’t have a permit. There were no police in sight, but we took for granted that a truck out on Gärdet’s grass would be a sure way to get them to come. So we carried the stage floor out in sections, about 300 metres to the east, and started screwing the pieces together. A small crowd formed around the stage. A couple of police officers arrived and warned us against trying to carry out the event, albeit in rather general terms. After an hour or so of arguing, the police withdrew, the excitement died down, and the sky was even greyer. Towards the afternoon we had managed to rig up a simple roof over the stage; it looked like it was going to be needed. I yanked the string to the dirty gasoline-powered generator we’d rented. It started sputtering, but after a while, got its 1200 watts in order. The party could begin.

Peter Mosskin:

The band had this good-naturedness about them, an open attitude, regardless of whether you liked their long swaying songs or not. That Träd, Gräs Och Stenar played an active role in making the first Gärdesfesten happen is no coincidence. When I casually mentioned that I had started playing with some guys in Gagnef [a small city in central Sweden], where I had moved, Bo Anders Persson or Thomas Gartz put us on the list of groups that were to play on Gärdet. Then they called and reminded us that we needed a name for the band. Thoughtful to say the least. OK, “Gläns över sjö & strand” [the opening line of a poem by Viktor Rydberg, the basis for the famous Swedish Christmas song “Bethlehems Stjärna”], a friend in the kitchen in Gagnef suggested, and so it was. Mera played drums when Gläns Över Sjö & Strand played on Gärdet. Everyone was so close together on the little stage. As I remember it, Träd, Gräs Och Stenar were like some kind of mentors to us.

Bo Anders Persson

Dagens Nyheter, May 22, 1970.
This is a different way of experiencing music, a way that we feel is very important... A festival that, for example, Gröna Lund [a Stockholm amusement park] will organise is too narrowly commercial. It’s just a way to attract people to the slot machines.

Aftonbladet, June 11, 1970.
The whole week has been hectic and all around. Ever since the Swedish Building Agency rejected the permit for Festen På Skeppsholmen.... The party has of course been moved from Skeppsholmen to Gärdet because it is the only place the police cannot cordon off if one is forced to keep going without a permit. The dates are unchanged. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, June 12–14 you will help get this amazing thing inside your ears, eyes and skin, as planned. Let’s stomp down Gärdet’s grass together!

Dagens Nyheter, June 13, 1970.
12 colourful chamber pots framed the inauguration of Festen Om Gärdet. Hampered even by the weather, it set off on Friday afternoon. A cold north wind and a lot of rain forced music and theatre into a makeshift tent. The weather improved slightly during the evening, and the several hundred who braved the cold came and went, sat, danced and drank chamomile tea. On Saturday, when the party continues, another stage will be added. The electricity comes from a cheerfully puttering generator. When it started up together with Träd, Gräs Och Stenar, the heat rose significantly.

Thomas Mera Gartz:

Not many came to the shows we hosted in the beginning, but they got bigger and bigger. There were more of us who were moving towards openness. In the end, there were tons of people. Just like with the Gärdesfesterna. The first one was small; the third one had 25,000 visitors. Everything was not-for-profit, with volunteers and no money. How do you serve food for 25,000 people? It wasn’t possible, it was too big.

Arne Ericsson:

I’ll never forget Gärdesfesten. The thing of being outside, music from morning to evening, and we got to play. Even if it was an attempt at mimicking Woodstock, there were lots of people and a positive atmosphere, except when the police tried to make us leave. I think we played more than once a day if I remember correctly. But you were there the entire time, and if you want to be a bit idealistic, you can say that it didn’t matter if we played or were in the audience.

Eva af Geijerstam

Dagens Nyheter, August 24, 1970
“Träd, Gräs Och Stenar” didn’t have one of their better nights – but despite that, it’s quite clear that Thomas Gartz is a very good drummer, that Bo Anders Persson is an excellent guitarist – and not least that their music leads directly to the audience. All of Gärdet’s kids – who have had the most fun during these four days – danced.

Lars Åberg

Aftonbladet, June 11, 1971
The new pop quickly became an established concept after the music parties at Gärdet last summer. All the labels were immediately put on it – Swedish pop, community-oriented, rural romantic, amateurish. But behind the cliches, a broader debate was finally started about the authoritarian concert situation, about music versus capital and authorities and about the role of folk music in plastic society...

The festivals on Gärdet became anchor points, two beams of light to look for in the darkness. New Pop has become a strong alternative to Commercial Pop. The English language was replaced with Swedish, polished sound was exchanged for an amateur musical group feeling, and the love lyrics had to compete with clear political positions.

Read Marc Masters’s review of Träd, Gräs Och Stenar: A Collective History by Håkan Agnsäter, Mats Eriksson Dunér, Jakob Sjöholm in The Wire 481. Wire subscribers can also read Jim Weir’s Once Upon A Time In Sweden article from The Wire 287, January 2008 via the online library.