La Fête de la Musique
Weather permitting, France will host hundreds of music and festive gatherings in cities and countryside tonight in a national Solstice celebration that opens the summer season for night markets, village fêtes, and other seasonal frivolity. Not quite the scale of the impending Olympics, but in its 42nd year, the French have learned how to throw a country-wide party! 1. Plan it everywhere—cities, towns, and villages. 2. Invite everyone—families, teens, old folks. 3. And make it free.
All over France, in many cities, towns, and villages, and especially in my corner of rural Southwest France, where memories of harvest and threshing festivals are long, neighbors will gather and bring something to share to eat and drink—an Auberge Espagnol or potluck supper. These days, the food is likely to be apéros to share— platters of savory bites. I made small, three-bite brioche cheeseburgers and ramekins of potato salad for a recent gathering, both a bit American and exotic for my French neighbors. It was a big hit!
There is something charming and naive in these rural gatherings—dancing to instruments and voices of every genre imaginable: a Gascon folk group with small pipes and a vielle à roue or hurdy-gurdy, a sultry 1930s jazz chanteuse backed by a trio of musicians. In cities, you’ll find hip hop, reggae, and a “happy rave” competing with a gospel choir, DJ, or Brazilian beats. You can walk a city street and move from corner to venue and flow with the crowds, or as we do in the countryside, gather in a special spot and spread out on blankets, bring tables and chairs, and share some Summer foods.
Summer Food Calendar
When the solstice rolls around, and I am already occupied with summer garden projects (green walnut wine, confitures of every color, and impromptu outside lunches or BBQs), I think about how these seasonal culinary events mark my yearly calendar. The yearly culinary culture of France is as rigorous as the saints’ days were to the medieval church: the winter pig slaughter time- the Prince of January, the early Spring tributes to the first appearance of strawberries, asparagus, and artichokes, Summer’s celebrations of tomatoes, peaches, Fall harvests with the gathering of plums and apples, grapes and figs.
Summer Solstice foods return yearly, too, along with seasonal culinary memories of Vin de Noix (green walnut wine) and freshly plucked fig and grape leaves. New memories are layered over older ones from the early days of barge cruising along the Canal du Midi. And while it wasn’t my first encounter with the Fête de la Musique, one year was certainly my most memorable.
Like a Chinese Lantern
Long ago, on a solstice evening, I moored the boat in a quiet stretch after cruising down the Canal du Midi across the open plains of the Lauragais near Carcassonne. The canal, fed by a man-made stream from far away reservoirs in the rainy Montagne Noire above Revel, flows toward the Mediterranean, and I was heading to the Camargue.
It was past ten o’clock and dark at last; the longest day finally succumbed to the sun setting across ripening wheat fields of the Lauragais plain towards Toulouse. The barge was tied to two pairs of sturdy Plane trees, fore and aft. Dinner was finished, and my guests were sated and chatting while lingering on the deck over the last glasses of Minervois wine. My day as captain was done.
I wandered off the boat and along the towpath, seeking that deep, quiet moment when the sky, now growing dark while still red along the edges, would cover us with its starry blanket. The barge looked like a Chinese lantern lit from within. We were the only boat on this quiet stretch of sinuous canal moored in the wild, surrounded by farms and fields.
I walked up onto the single-lane, 17th-century arched stone bridge to look back to my floating home glowing at the end of these longest Summer days. Constructed in the mid-1600s, hand-pulled carts and horse-drawn carriages returning from a field or heading to a market town would have been the only traffic. In those early days of the canal, the barges were hauled by horse and mule or men and women strapped to a long towing line with harnesses; the thick cords cut into the soft limestone bridge supports as the boats were pulled under the low arches and back into the center of the gentle current.
The old bridge was a perfect perch, looking out over the flat valley and far-off villages, which scattered a few distant lights. I must have been holding my breath because suddenly, I heard a far-off note carried on still air: a note, and then a phrase, and then a melody. Music. From a village so distant I couldn’t see, I could hear the sounds of the Fête de la Musique.
Solstice 2024
This year, the solstice offers us a special gift—a full moon. Many will call it sweet names, such as the Strawberry Moon or Honey Moon, and recount folklore to support marking the shortest night with an extra bright beacon. Tonight, if I am lucky and the clouds hold back long enough, I will wander out into the garden and listen for the sounds of my neighbors in far-off villages— Brax, Serignac, and Ste. Colombe— making music to carry along the still moonlit June night.
Next week, I’ll share some of my favorite garden party recipes suitable for an Auberge Espagnole and ready for your own picnics and neighborly fetes.
Lovely piece, Kate. We ourselves have stumbled into fetes in summer in the Dordogne and on the Il de Re.....wonderful!
We should try a Fête de la Musique in a smaller town. In Rodez, it's become a pretty noisy affair.