There is something quietly radical about the way Pilane Bubu speaks about building worlds. Not stages. Not events. Worlds. What emerges in our conversation is not simply the story of a festival but the anatomy of a living archive, one that breathes through people, memory and the stubborn insistence that culture must be held, not consumed.
The Folklore Festival, which is entering its fifth year as a formal gathering and sixth as a broader community platform, did not begin as a grand institutional vision. It began, as many necessary things do, in the quiet unrest of an artist asking herself whether music alone could carry the weight of inheritance.
This years Fringe programme, under the theme KinFolk, sharpens that intention.
