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Burning Man 2017 in Review
With 70,000 hippies streaming past my back window, I believe we can safely say that Exodus is underway. And with Exodus underway, we may safely conclude that the 32nd Burning Man has ended. Thus, for those who are interested in such things, I thought I might provide an overview of this year’s version of the World’s Most Dangerous Art Festival from the perspective of someone who has been going since 1995.
I’m unsure of exactly how many times I’ve been to Burning Man. Somewhere between 19 and 21. I skipped the year my daughter was born, and possibly one other for work reasons back in the 1990s. It’s hard to remember exactly. Nevertheless, I was there for the formative (and highly unsafe) HELCO year of 1996; the “bad year” of death and mayhem which led to co-founder John Law renouncing the event, leaving forever, and the introduction of the entire slew of laws which govern the festival to this day.
Man, I had a great time in ’96!
So I suppose all that makes me as qualified as anyone to write about this complex and often misunderstood cultural phenomenon. For those of you who have never heard of Burning Man, it’s an art-drug-sex-music-cosplay-nudity-pyromania-alternative culture festival held on an ancient alkaline lake bed in a remote part of Nevada. In essence, 70,000 people descend on a blank, lifeless piece of land and build a surreal, artificial city for one week. At the climax of that week, there are two distinct ceremonies: the raucous burning of a giant wicker man, and the silent burning of an elaborate temple. The former is a Bacchanalia, the later a more dignified conflagration of memories of the previous year’s dead: pictures, poems, letters, keepsakes, and even their ashes. It’s destruction is treated with great solemnity. Really.
For the first 18 or so years I went to “The Burn” I never considered myself a Burner (as members of the subculture are called). As a Gen X’er I was nearly 45 before I began considering myself a member of pretty much anything; a common malady of my particular cohort I suspect. Rather, I saw myself as a snarky sociologist voyaging among the zany indigenous. These days, as I hitchhike about Black Rock City on crazy art cars looking at gigantic sculpture, or drift from camp to camp on my light wire-festooned bicycle visiting with friends, I’m forced to admit that I’ve gone native. Me and Grover Norquist, whom I dropped acid with this year while dressed as a magical butterfly. (Just kidding!)
And now the 2017 Burn in review, in no particular order, and in (one hopes) Bucklyesque snippets:
- I believe the giant art installations for which the festival is widely known were of a particularly high quality this year, and were also present in great quantity. I have no idea why this might be. Economy recovering?
- Not a lot of political art this year. No giant Trump heads or the like. Not really sure why. They were always merciless to W. Maybe they got out of the habit during the Obama years? Too soon? He would seem an easy mark.
- The opinion of locals about Burning Man does not always break down along logical lines. My rebel-flag flying neighbor thinks it’s the greatest thing since sliced bread. The hippie potters down the road hate it. Preconceptions on my part?
- I find the event to be surprisingly child friendly at this point. I brought my eight-year-old with Down syndrome in for a while and she had a lovely time. People were generally kind and receptive. A certain amount of public nudity, but no public sex these days. No public drug use or overt drinking either.
- With that said, it’s become generally very boozy, with an extra large helping of the touchy-freely lightweight psychedelics the kids are fond of. Never smelled pot once – which is odd, considering it’s fully legal in Nevada now. Not on federal land though one supposes.
- Law enforcement, BLM, paramedics, firefighters, Black Rock Rangers, and so forth seemed pretty on top of things. A calm and relaxed sort of chaos.
- As you may have read, some guy committed suicide by leaping into The Man this year. Drugs? Possibly. Insensitive and egocentric? Definitely. A method of committing suicide designed to spoil the fun of others and traumatize them. Let alone the poor paramedics! For shame.
- I really love art cars. Really. Not enough to actually make one. It’s more a lifestyle than a hobby, and an expensive one at that. But they can be really terrific. What a perfect expression of Americana!
- A lot of Australians and Israelis this year. More than I remember from years past. People not afraid of deserts? Getting out of their home countries more often?
- Very dusty this year. Also very hot. When combined with smoke from nearby wildfires it made for nasty air quality. Still, maybe if you’re from LA it’s not so bad?
- The Gayborhood seemed pretty well mixed in with everyone else this year, and was not so much a distinct entity. Assimilation, or simply hard to tell when absolutely everyone is a magical fairy creature?
- Rave, which young people no longer listen to, has become the ceremonial music of Burning Man. Like polka at Oktoberfest. Soon, God willing, you will only be able to hear it there!
My son in law was not there this year (he has been often, hired by some to manage their lighting and sound) but several art cars he worked on were there.
According to SIL someone making a break for the wicker man when he is on fire is not uncommon; what is uncommon is security not stopping them in time.
Sounds like my worst nightmare.
My daughter has been once – her description of her week, while very very funny, places Burning Man in about the second circle of hell.
I have two nieces that also attend – their descriptions have left my sister with a desire to attend.
Different Strokes
Did you see my #1 baby? Geeky type; minimal flash. Well, that’s the rest of the year.
Thanks for the report. When I ask him about it I won’t say a word about your briefing here. That will be interesting.
#2 baby attended a few times in the past, and has recently complained of wealthy tech kahunas coming in giant air-conditioned mobile homes, contrary to the spirit of the thing, which seems to include physical suffering. Do you have observations on that cohort?
If an event is gonna be more than 85% in the shade, I have no interest.
It seems counter intuitive – I live in an area where the temps in the summer are above 90% without rain for four months of the year. But everything is air conditioned. (And all my fellow Lake County-ans hate heat just like me. So I am free to moan and groan as much as I want.)
I am glad to hear that so many people like it. Anything that gets people out of their homes participating with other humans in a venue where they can enjoy art, music, their tattoos etc seems like a good idea. I am waiting for the “Freezing Man” version of this event to come along some day so I can attend.
Thank you for your post. Though in my late 50’s I only learned of the event in the last year or two and just this weekend was wondering what the heck this thing is. Thought about consulting google. Now I don’t have to. Isn’t the Ricochet community great?
Thanks for this. I enjoyed reading your impressions.
Thank you all for your kind comments. I think one of the most important things about Burning Man – as well as one of the most overlooked – is best summed up by a quote from one of it’s founders, Larry Harvey:
“All real communities grow out of a shared confrontation with survival. Communities are not produced by sentiment or mere goodwill. They grow out of a shared struggle.”
While you don’t necessarily like or agree with everyone you encounter at Burning Man, there is a strange communal bond formed by spending time living together in an utterly hostile environment. A sort of… “sympathy” I suppose is the best word for it. Like surviving a natural disaster.
Or possibly a family reunion.
No matter how well prepared you are, you come out of Burning Man totally exhausted, get stuck in traffic on a one lane road for five hours, discover your belongings are ruined, and looking like you’ve been spray painted from head to toe with ash. There are 1,000 emails on your phone marked URGENT. And odds are you’re still going to have to drive 100 miles to get a hotel room, descent internet, and good Mexican food.
Rich or poor, pretty or ugly, young or old, it’s really a very democratic experience!
As if Labor day traffic isn’t bad enough, burners have to drive by Lake Tahoe on their way home and tie up traffic with their dust covered vehicles. Mount Rose Hwy moves at parade speed all the way into Incline Village so everyone can see how cool and with-it some guy with a Mercedes and an Airstream trailer can be.
We must have just missed each other, I was there in 1992. Highlights-small plane crash and a few weird, stray wondering dogs…one of which we painted ( dont ask). It was a total freak that I was there, stopped for gas at a station tooling down 95, heard some folks talking, they talked to me, remarked on my NY lic. plates, told them I was wondering out to Cali., no particular timeline etc. and they said hey heard from a friend , gonna do a desert ‘thing’ and that lets see whats up…I dont have to read your well done missive to realize that around 2000, like a great restaurant, BM had been ‘discovered’ and, would soon be ruined….and,so it has…
I too fondly remember the years of 3000 to 5000 people, a Man put up by “some guys,” “loud” music meaning Captain Beefheart on a stereo, and five art cars! Alas…