By Lisa Gillan
The Mariposa Folk Festival has done it again, bringing an amazing weekend of folk, rock, and more, to the little city of Orillia, ON.
From Friday, July 3, to Sunday, July 5, 2026, more than 60 musical acts took to the eight stages set up on the shores of Lake Couchiching at Tudhope Park, to bring attendees a weekend they won’t soon forget.
This was the 66th annual Mariposa Folk Fest, and the third I’ve been fortunate enough to attend.
I signed up to volunteer with the audio/video team, capturing footage of attendees enjoying everything the event has to offer, for archival and promotional purposes.
The festival actually kicked off Thursday, July 2, with a few free evening performances on a stage in downtown Orillia, helping set the tone for the weekend in the city.
I live an hour away, however, and was only scheduled to volunteer Saturday and Sunday, so I didn’t catch any of Thursday night’s free action, but I think it’s a great idea to allow people in the community who might not be able to attend the festival itself, to connect with the experience, to some degree at least.
Although I wasn’t scheduled for the Friday of the festival, I headed down that night after work to take in the show, especially as I was pretty stoked about the evening’s line up.
The first act I caught as I arrived was a band out of Regina, Sask., called Foxwarren. I’d never heard of them before, so I hadn’t been deliberately trying to make it in time to catch them, but I’m always happy to check out new bands, and they had a funky, easy-flowing indie style that I enjoyed.
Although I could hear it, I wasn’t able to watch much of this particular performance, however, as I had to go sign in at the volunteer desk and pick up my wrist band and t-shirt for the weekend, and then check in with my team to go over some logistics for the next day.
I did, however, strategically plan my timing to be there in time to catch the act that was on after them, being Ocie Elliott.
Ocie Elliott is a soft folk duo from Victoria, B.C., consisting of Jon Middleton and Sierra Lundy. Middleton sings soft and low, while Lundy harmonizes with even softer, but much higher, breathier vocals, that I couldn’t emulate if I tried. They played my favourite of their songs, being “Like a River,” as well as their hits “Be Around,” and the first song they wrote together “Down by the Water”.
Although their musical styling is not my usual go-to, I do reach for it every now and then, when I’m craving something soft and sweet, and watching them did get me into Mariposa-mode, as I could feel the stress of my work week float away on their soundwaves.
I did go close up near the front of the stage for a few of their songs, but then I found a little spot not far away, to spread out the blanket I’d brought, and relax a bit more, as there were many acts to come, and the night was just getting started.
I still had a great view of the stage pretty close up, but even the sky seemed to want to participate in the artistry of it all, as a huge group of dense but bright little white clouds (cirrocumulus) spread across it, painting a perfect picture for those interested in laying on the grass, and staring at the sky, while the sweet, soft music filled the air.
There were other artists performing on other stages that I would have liked to check out Friday night as well, but the main stage lineup was the most interesting to me, so that is where I stayed for the evening.
The main stage has been dubbed the “Lightfoot stage” in honour of the late Gordon Lightfoot, who was born in Orillia, and played Mariposa many times throughout his career.
After the main acts on the Lightfoot stage, there were bands who would play on an attached stage, right off to the left-hand side, who were dubbed “’Tweeners,” as they played short sets while the gear got swapped on the main part of the stage, for the next artist. This was a great way to give big exposure to some lesser known artists, who were also slated for full performances on other stages later on in the festival, and it helped keep the crowd engaged between the headlining performances.
The ‘Tweener slated for after Ocie Elliott was another act I was excited to see that night, being Chuck Coles.
Coles played Buddies Fest in Tillsonburg, ON, last year, which I attended, but I didn’t catch his performance there, because it was on the Sunday, and I was already headed home. I did check out his music, however, as I was interested in all the groups that played that festival, and I found his voice strong with an appealing, deep cadence, and his messaging important, so I was excited to catch him at Mariposa. I was also happy he brought something a little grittier than normal, perhaps, for many festival-goers.
Coles brought with him a band that included a drummer, keyboardist, upright bass player, and a fiddler. I think the fiddler was my favourite part, as it’s been a while since I’ve seen a fiddle played so punk-rock in person, and I do love a good folk-punk blend.
After Coles, back on the main part of the Lightfoot stage, was the act I was most excited for going into the evening; folk-punk legend Billy Bragg.
I’d seen Bragg once before, at one of the Newport Folk Festival afterparties hosted by Deer Tick that I mentioned in my last post, actually! I remember he said hello as I was waiting on the curb to get into that show at the Newport Blues Café that night, (he must have seen me staring,) and then he stood right beside me in the venue as the other acts performed. It was a special night, to be sure, and I was happy to be seeing him perform live again.
Bragg is famous for his decades long career of speaking and singing out in support of the working class, unions, LGBTQIA+ issues, and more, and so his involvement in the festival this year was very timely indeed, given the state of affairs around the globe right now.
Bragg of course did not disappoint, and used his time on stage in the best and most valuable ways that night, talking about the importance of speaking up for marginalized people, including the trans community, and pointing out how allowing violence against one group only leads to more violence against more groups.
He also spoke to the role of music, not to fight fascism directly, but to inspire people to step up and get involved, and do the things that need to be done to actually make a change. He instilled in everyone that, despite what Woody Guthrie had said, guitars don’t kill fascists, but they can lead people to believe they can do what needs to be done to defeat it.
He sang hits meant to inspire and change people’s perspectives, including “There is Power in a Union,” “Sexuality,” “Waiting for the Great Leap Forward,” his cover of the Woody Guthrie song “All you Fascists” and a new song of his own about the colonization and genocide in Palestine, called “Hundred Year Hunger.”
Before singing that last one, he spoke about British and French state actions that opened the door for Israel to establish itself and begin its genocidal reign in the region.
“Our failure to deliver to the Palestinian people a secure homeland before 1948 makes us complicit in the genocide that is happening in Gaza,” he said. “Undoubtedly.”
He said he was inspired to write the song particularly after seeing the Israel Defence Forces (IDF) shooting people who’d come to provide food to starving Palestinians.
“This is, in my view, a war crime,” he said.
He then pointed to his shirt which read “SUMUD” and explained it was the Arabic word for steadfastness, and was one of a few Arabic words included in the song, with the others being “lan nughadir,” which translates to “we will not leave.”
The song, in its earnestness, almost brought me to tears at times, and to my knees at others, particularly as he sang the English words “existence is resistance.”
I so admire Bragg and other artists who continue to use their platforms to speak on these issues, and love the Mariposa Folk Festival organizers for providing him and others the stage(s) to do it.
While I pulled myself together, the next act took to the ‘Tweener stage, which was up-and-coming Canadian artist Kelly McMichael, who I’d never heard of before. Although she played alone, she brought a loop pedal and creatively laid down tracks of her own beats and harmonies while on stage, to sing along to. It was fun to watch, and she shared music that was sweet and powerful in her own unique way.
The final act on the Lightfoot stage for the evening, was American crooner, satirist, and song-writing superstar, Father John Misty, a.k.a. Josh Tillman.
Funny enough, I’d also caught a Father John Misty performance of sorts at one of the aforementioned Newport Folk Fest afterparties. A quick look back through my photo catalogue actually revealed he performed at the very same afterparty as Bragg, on Sunday, July 30, 2017, which is quite a coincidence, because there were three afterparties at each Newport Folk Festival I went to, and I went twice. What are the odds that out of the six I went to total, these two performers who had been there on the same night, would be headlining a folk fest in my own neck of the woods nine years later!
What’s even more funny about that night in Newport, is that although Father John Misty was there, on stage, as far as I can remember he did not sing a single song. Instead, if memory serves me correctly, he was there to perform stand-up comedy, of sorts. (I don’t remember the routine, but I’m sure it was more social commentary than actual stand-up, but that’s what it was touted as.)
It seemed so absurd, looking back, but yet this was the memory I had.
In fact, I had to double check my photos and verify with friends who’d been in attendance that night, but when I pieced together that that was also the year he’d released the album “Pure Comedy,” I felt much more confident that I was actually remembering things accurately.
The Newport Blues Café, where those afterparties took place, had a bit of an odd setup, in that the second floor has an opening in the middle (with railings etc.) where people could sit and look down on the stage below. The main thing I remember happening that night, was someone dropping something onto the stage from the floor above, and Father John Misty looking at me, standing near the front, on the main floor, as if I’d been the one to throw it at him. I did my best to make it clear that it’d come from above, pointing up and mouthing something along the lines of “it came from up there,” but I’m not sure whether he believed me or not.
Anyway, although I had seen Father John Misty perform, in a sense, before, I don’t believe I’d ever actually seen him sing or play any of his music in person.
At the same time, because of his antics in Newport that night, I felt I understood his schtick – and that was essentially that, although on first encounter he may appear quite serious, from his name to his lyrics, a lot of what he presents to the world is not to be taken literally. And although a number of his songs, including the one I was most familiar with, and believe is likely his most commercially successful, “Real Love Baby,” may not fit that generalization, that fact itself kind of does, because you just never know what you’re going to get with him. Which, in a way, is the most un-schtick like way to be, because he basically just seems to create whatever suits the moment, rather than fit some kind of mould.
The diversity of his songs puts him in a category a bit hard to define, to me, ranging from sappy cute love songs to social criticisms, set to beats including disco, folk, rock, and more. But then I guess that’s kind of what folk music is, at its heart; lively, full of soul, and inspired by real life, including all the ups and downs.
All that said, although I was somewhat aware of who he is, how he is, and some of his musical offerings, I must admit I was not fully prepared for the stellar live performance Tillman put on that night in Orillia.
To me, his appearance is somewhat reminiscent of a ‘70’s era Don Henley, but that may be a comparison I land on in part because of his previous role as the drummer for Fleet Foxes. Or maybe it’s just the whole Americana-rock look, with long hair and a bushy beard that reminds me of bands from that time.
I was expecting him to dance and groove a bit on stage, which of course he did.
But I was not prepared for the size of the band he brought along with him – including a saxophonist, who, in my opinion, pushed the performance right over the top, in the best way.
As a whole, the band, and the energy and antics Tillman himself brought to the stage, delivered in a big way, showing exactly why his act deserved to headline this and many other festivals this summer.
And the thing about it is, he makes it all look and sound so easy, as if anyone could do it.
His songs don’t seem particularly complex, maybe especially to me, because I’m used to listening to fast, complex, technical heavier music a lot of the time.
But I also think this is in part because the songs are so well written and composed, and deliberately not over-complicated, and the musicians he brings along so practiced and talented in their crafts, that it all comes together so seamlessly and almost makes you forget about the composition at all.
In the same way, Tillman looks so at ease on stage. He makes it seem, at times, like anyone can do what he does, if they just relax and have fun with it.
In fact, I’m sure the reason he’s able to relax and make it look so easy, however, is that he has been in the game for so long, and practiced it all to the point of perfection. He is, undoubtedly, a master of performance art.
The set opened with the disco-esque “I Guess Time Just Makes Fools of Us All,” but as the song was wrapping up, he warned the audience it would be their last chance to dance for the evening.
I wasn’t overly surprised at the comment, as I think I was expecting his set to be mostly soft love songs after that, and while he did play a couple of those, including “Real Love Baby,” and “I Love You Honeybear,” the songs I enjoyed most were the aforementioned opener, as well as “Mental Health,” (during which I felt like Tillman was talking to me directly, telling me to quit my day job,) “The Old Law,” which seems to me to be a critique of both America and Israel at the moment, and “She Cleans Up,” which builds from a bit of a jazzy rock song to an all-out explosive ending, woven with themes of female empowerment, that I am now hooked on.
I left that night with a whole new appreciation for Father John Misty both as a performer and social critic, and played those last two songs on repeat a few times over the course of my one-hour drive home (and my drive back in the next day).
His set and performance was completely incredible, and I was once again so pleased by the Mariposa Folk Foundations’ choice in headliners for the evening. If anyone hasn’t delved into the Father John Misty catalogue, beyond his love songs, please do yourself a favour and check it out.
After Friday I had volunteer duties, so I didn’t get to take in many other acts in full, but I was ok with that, given that most of the bands I’d wanted to see had played Friday night.
At one point on Saturday, however, I did kind of get stuck at the pub tent stage, because it was raining and I was trying to protect my camera, so didn’t want to move on. The set at the time was a workshop with Nixon Boyd of Hollerado, Chuck Coles and his band, Wax Mannequin, who I’d been hoping to catch at the festival, and one of the singers from a band called Ducks Ltd. (which was the only one of the four I’d never heard of,) so I was really not too upset about being stuck in that one location for a little while! The performance was great as they moved down the line a couple of times playing songs of their own, and then jammed together for a track or two, including a Chuck Coles song where he had a few of the performers ad-lib solos in the middle. It was great fun, and the rain was a nice little refresher on such a hot day.
Part of my job was also to relieve operators for one hour on each of the days, at one of the stationary cameras set up at one of the ancillary stages (i.e. not the Lightfoot stage).
On Saturday I was slated to do this at the children’s performers’ stage, and as such got to take in an act called Splash’N Boots, who I otherwise never would’ve heard of.
They seemed to be well known and loved by the children, however, and I have to say I was thoroughly entertained and impressed by their performance, which was fun and genuine, with just the right amount of goofiness for the children, and laughs for the adults too.
But perhaps one of the most memorable moments of the whole festival, for me, and the second time I almost cried, was when Splash’N Boots recognized a young fan in a wheelchair, who they’d met last year, who had travelled with her family from Pennsylvania to be there for the show this year as well.
This young fan got particularly excited when they announced they were going to sing a song called “Antelopes Love Cantaloupes,” and she danced along in her chair with the biggest grin on her face the entire time.
The whole interaction just really moved me, from the performers remembering her, to the joy it brought her to be there, and the happiness on her family’s faces, as they watched her enjoy her life to the fullest in those moments. They also asked if she wanted to participate in another song, but she politely declined, acknowledging that she’d done so at the show last year, and was ok with giving another child a turn. The whole interaction was just so sweet, and I’m tearing up again now, just thinking about it!
Later that day I was able to catch another act from Wax Mannequin, a.k.a Chris Adeney, this time as a ‘Tweener on the main stage.
I’d wanted to see him perform, as I knew he had opened for one of my favourite bands, Propagandhi, at their second Toronto show, the night after I saw them on their last tour. I had checked out some of his music since then and was looking forward to seeing him there.
I was certainly not disappointed, as he brought a rocking, edgy sound to the festival which I and many others appreciated. He even broke a string during this performance, but finished out the song flawlessly, and then switched guitars for the rest of the set – expertly demonstrating the importance of preparedness when it comes to live performance.
My shift wrapped up at 7 p.m., and there were still lots of bands to come, but I was so tired from running around in the hot sun capturing videos all day, and there were no more bands slated that I’d been particularly keen about catching, so I headed home as soon as Wax Mannequin’s set was done.
The next day I did it all over again, but took a little time out of my shift (with the approval of my supervisor) to play a couple of my own original songs on the open mic stage in the “Alice’s Patio” pub area of the festival.
I didn’t have much time to prepare, since I’d spent the weekend either at the festival, getting ready to be at the festival, or recovering from being at the festival, but I did a quick run through of each song before leaving the house that morning, hoping to make a go of it if it worked out.
You have to get there kind of early in the day to sign up, as I think the open mic slots fill pretty quickly, but luckily for me, when I checked in around 12:30, there were still a couple options available, including one that worked well with my schedule for the day.
This was actually the second time that I performed on the open mic stage at Mariposa, with the first being the first year I volunteered, back in 2019.
I mostly did it because it scared me, and I want to face my fears and get over them as much as reasonably possible in this life.
It didn’t go off perfectly, (I used the house guitar, which is a classical guitar and has wider gaps between the strings than either of my acoustics; plus my nerves made my arm seize up a bit, impacting my strumming; and I forgot the words to the chorus of one of my songs at one point!) but everyone was so nice, and even complimentary, with a few people coming up to me afterwards to tell me I did well. So that was a nice little extra part of the festival I got to take part in.
Before and after that, however, I was running around getting videos with my camera, except, again, for one hour when I got to relieve a stationary camera operator once more.
I enjoy this part of volunteering too, in part because it’s a chance for me to sit in the shade and take in a whole set of whatever band happens to be playing in that slot. In this case it happened to be Great Lake Swimmers, who I was hoping to catch at the festival as well, so it couldn’t have worked out better.
Their set was very soothing, and I quite enjoyed it, though I was overheating at this point, and kept having to dump water from my water bottle onto my neck. I was just glad the festival has refillable water stations to make sure no one runs out!
Once again, my scheduled time ended at 7 p.m., but that also worked out very well, because the final performer I was hoping to catch of the weekend was Canadian darling, Dan Mangan. He played at 6 p.m. on the Lightfoot stage, and I had lots of time to grab some food and get some more shots before making my way over to capture clips of the crowd enjoying the show, while also taking it in for my own enjoyment.
I’ve seen Mangan perform a couple of times before, and have been a fan for somewhere around two decades now, so I was very happy to cap my weekend off with a performance of his.
He also has little bits of insight, wisdom, and social justice messaging to share along with his lovely music, and though some of the topics he covers do get into heavy territory, I always feel a little lighter after hearing his tunes.
Mangan had also performed at some of the workshops throughout the weekend, and had been hanging out the whole festival, and I guess at one point a teenage boy who saw him wandering the grounds had asked if he would play “Road Regrets.” He obliged, and dedicated it to the kid, who made his way to the front of the crowd to take it in. He also played “Diminishing Returns,” which was released last year, crowd favourite “Robots,” a favourite of one of my friend’s, who also loves his music, being “Basket,” and one of my favourites of his tracks, “Lay Low.”
Unfortunately, apparently, I was too tired to think to capture any photos of Mangan’s performance (though I did capture a few videos), but it was a very nice way to wrap up the day for me.
There were still a number of acts to play after Mangan, and if I’d had any energy left at all I would have stayed to catch Lemon Bucket Orchestra, and/or The Free Label, who were closing out the festival with overlapping shows on the pub stage and Lightfoot stage respectively, but I was ready for a big dinner and a long sleep, and still had an hour drive to get home, so I decided to call it a day.
And just like that, it was a wrap on another Mariposa Folk Festival. I’m sure the memories will linger for those who attended for many days to come, and I hope the messages of solidarity many of the musicians spoke out on will continue to help inspire people to engage in issues bigger than themselves, and know that there are still many caring people, and rays of light in this world, despite how dark it may seem at times.
I already can’t wait to see who they line up for next year!
Lisa goes to shows 