The first thing I notice upon landing at the tiny Vágar Airport in the Faroe Islands — a small, self-governing archipelago that’s part of the Kingdom of Denmark, situated in the North Atlantic between Iceland and Norway — is that no one has bothered to check my passport. There’s no stern customs agent sizing me up or demanding to know what I’m doing here. And why would there be? The Faroese love visitors.
That becomes even clearer when, upon traveling about an hour from Vágar to the island of Eysturoy and arriving in the remote village of Syðrugøta — with a population of roughly 500 people — I meet Maggie, the woman who will be hosting me in her home during my stay. Because of some unexpected travel delays, she’s not home when I arrive, and when she sees me standing outside as she and her daughter climb the hill that leads to the house, she’s surprised that I didn’t think to simply try the door. “You should have just gone inside,” she tells me. “It’s always unlocked.”
That openness and trust is a big part of what the Faroese call heimablídni, which translates to “home hospitality.” It’s tradition here for locals to host visitors and tourists for home-cooked meals, intimate house concerts or, in this case, G! Festival, the annual summer music festival that sees 5,000 people — roughly one-tenth of the entire country’s population — descend upon Syðrugøta to take in their favorite bands. Because the town, dubbed “Gøta” for short by the locals, is so small, there are no hotels or hostels. Some G! Festival attendees camp, some sleep on boats docked in a nearby harbor and others crash on cots in classrooms in the town’s schoolhouse. But many of the residents generously open up their homes to the artists and other festival-goers who are in from out of town.
The festival, which was founded in 2002, takes place on a beach, overlooking one of the island’s stunning fjords, during the course of three days in July. Because it’s so far north, the sun almost never sets; the area typically gets 23 hours of daylight at a time during the summer. There are food trucks and an area for kids to play, as well as wooden hot tubs and a sauna on the beach — which offer welcome relief for those of us who aren’t used to a climate where 50 degrees Fahrenheit constitutes a warm summer day. If you’re still freezing, you can make your way to the tent where Navia, a knitwear brand, is selling traditional Faroese sweaters designed specifically for the festival. (The wool here, which is rich in lanolin, making it naturally water repellent, is highly coveted all over the world. Not surprising, perhaps, for a country where sheep outnumber humans.)
“The setting in a tiny village of a tiny country, I think this is what makes it truly unique,” G! Festival musical director Høgni Lisberg, who handles the booking for the festival, tells me. “The 500 people village transforms into a 5,000 people festival, and people flood in from all over the country and from abroad. The mountains, the fjord and the beach are breathtakingly beautiful, and all of these elements somehow enhance every aspect of what’s going on. You’re standing in the middle of all that pure nature clearly sensing that it’s not you, but these ancient forces that are deciding everything, and in a way you feel a sense of gratitude that they are willing to once again let the music ring and the lights dance, year after year.”
Lisberg is also a musician, one who has performed at every iteration of the festival except for this year, when he took over as musical director. During the course of two decades, he’s watched it expand and evolve while remaining conscious of the fact that its locale presents certain size limitations.
“In the beginning, it grew very quickly — from being an amateur project to being a fully fledged festival,” he says. “In fact, it grew faster than what people could keep up with, which almost killed the project, but luckily everything came back together and has been going steady ever since. So I guess I would say that the biggest change over time is that everything has gotten very well organized. People now understand what the limitations are and what is possible to achieve. When that’s said, we still have an interest in exploring every inch of those limitations, as we want the festival to feel fresh and alive every year.”
G! Festival adheres to a 50/50 rule when booking artists: half of the bill are international acts and half are Faroese performers. At this year’s event, I took in acts from all over the world, from Mali’s Samba Touré to Greenland’s Sound of the Damned, but the experience still felt distinctly Faroese. Art-pop singer-songwriter Eivør, arguably the most famous Faroese musician, grew up in Gøta, and seeing her perform in front of her hometown crowd — something she does at G! Festival nearly every year — was something special. (On my last day in town, Maggie gives me a necklace as a going-away present and proudly tells me it was made by Eivør’s mother in the local glass shop.) The festival also features a traditional Faroese “chain dance,” where people join hands and dance in a circle while singing up to 150 verses of old Viking tales and oral history that has been passed down from generation to generation. Faroese folk musicians share a bill with death metal bands, and everyone seems happy to take it all in.
“The DNA of the festival is a mixture of weird narrow stuff combined with what can gather a crowd,” Lisberg says. “We always try to have something that sells tickets, obviously, as we need to pull in almost 10% of the country’s population. The Faroese acts can surely pull a crowd, but it’s probably tilting more towards some international acts to deliver the big sells, as they have this ‘once in a lifetime’ effect on people. But there’s always an edge to the overall sound of the program. Sure, not everything is avant garde, but the mixture of weird and easily accessible makes a total picture that is quite unique. We are always looking for good and interesting music, more than what is popular.” He points out that the festival goes out of its way to use the same sized font for every artist’s name on the program because, as he puts it, “all the names are equally important, musically speaking.”
That lack of ego is a big part of the Faroe Islands music scene as a whole, where seemingly everyone wears multiple hats, performing in several bands or working at TUTL, the Faroe Islands’ premier record label, whose storefront in the capital city of Tórshavn also doubles as a record store. Dania O. Tausen, for example, is a winner of multiple Faroe Music Awards (the Faroese equivalent to a Grammy) as well as a TUTL employee. (Imagine, for a moment, if you walked into a record shop in the States and Phoebe Bridgers was sitting behind the counter.)
“The Faroese music scene is a supportive community in many ways,” Lisberg says. “The resources are limited, so musicians all play with each other on the various projects. It’s not commercialized, so there is a sense of freedom to do what you feel you must do artistically. At the same time there is high ambition, so people work very hard to create good music.”
That ambition isn’t focused on fame, however. As Lisberg points out, these artists are in it for the love of the craft rather than any potential success or attention.
“People are not so focused on creating Top 10 hits but are more curious of nurturing their own voice,” Lisberg says. “Faroese artists are not afraid to change direction over time, and their albums will often vary from one album to the next. Commercially this is difficult to work with, but artistically it is very interesting. It forces everyone to live in the moment, and if you are keen on something happening now, go watch it when you have the chance ’cause it might be a bit different when the next album is made.”
Like any scene, Faroese music spans many genres, but Lisberg says there is one common through-line. “The sound of Faroese music has a unique atmosphere, leaning towards a Nordic melancholy,” he says. “It’s quite expressive in emotion, rather than trying to play it cool, which all in all gives you a very mood-based music.”
He attributes that, at least partially, to the harsh climate of the Faroe Islands. It’s often cold and rainy, and while summer brings the midnight sun, winter sees almost no daylight, with nearly entire days spent in the dark. “Another characteristic of the Faroese, and why there are probably so many musicians per capita, is probably the long fall and winter,” Lisberg says. “It’s gray and dark and the weather is shitty, so you need to have some indoor hobby that you care about, and music is one such — combined with a very limited choice of entertainment in general because we have no big cities with all that those have to offer. If you’re a musician, music fills a lot in your personal and social life.”
Music fills a lot in the personal and social lives of seemingly everyone in the Faroe Islands, musicians or not — at least if G! Festival is any indication. Townspeople work as volunteers to keep the whole thing running smoothly, attendees brave the elements and wouldn’t dream of leaving a set early, musicians can be spotted in the crowd taking in their peers’ performances, and those who weren’t lucky enough to get a ticket hang out on nearby rooftops and porches hoping to catch a glimpse. On the last day, the festival passes out free Faroese bacalao — salted cod served over mashed potatoes with tomatoes and chives — to all 5,000 attendees as a way of thanking them for coming.
“It builds on that classic music festival tradition, known from Woodstock, Roskilde Festival, etc., but it’s an adaptation to the scale and circumstances of the Faroe Islands,” Lisberg says. “It has that musical ambition and that whole sense of momentary freedom for the individual. It’s an impossible project made possible every single year. The atmosphere is just pure love and a celebration of music. It’s the party of the year in the Faroese summer nights, where the light from the never-setting sun gives you a perfectly natural high. It truly is the highlight of the year to me in all those ways and more.”
G! Festival will return to the Faroe Islands on July 17-19, 2025.
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