Mennofolk: Organization of Flux and Transformation
Mennofolk, a loose cluster of acoustic music festivals throughout the US and Canada, has been in existence for almost twenty years, but in the last five years it has experienced intense growth. How is it that a group without a CEO or even a mission plan can continue to thrive and develop over such a long time? What has seemed like God’s providence can also be understood using a metaphor of organizational existence outlined by Gareth Morgan (2006, p. 241) in Images of Organization. He calls this metaphor, which so fits the Mennofolk experience, “organizations as flux and transformation.”
The dynamics of quantum physics can be viewed from the point of view of the universe or from our smallest particles’ relationships. Mennofolk as an organization fits the metaphor of flux and transformation within its own closed system, and Mennofolk also plays an influencing role in changing the wider Mennonite church which shares its name. I will explore both the micro and the macro unfolding of Mennofolk and its affinity with chaos theory in my final paper. For this deliverable, I will focus on Mennofolk within itself, without going into the wider organized church.
Though Mennofolk began as the brainchild of one man, who decided to bring together young musicians from Mennonite backgrounds for a concert in the late 80’s, it has now sprung up spontaneously in five locations. Each festival has a different motivation for existing, leaders and committees that change over time, and a wide variety of church and secular sponsors. The festivals are by nature grass-roots, organized to meet the needs and expressions of a certain geographic area and context. Yet all of them claim the title “Mennofolk,” making that fascinating connection between a specific ethnic or religious background and the music that comes from the people who have sprouted from that influence. An observer who traveled between the festivals might be amazed to identify a similar ethos, atmosphere, even aesthetic, despite that fact that the people who create these festivals have almost no communication between them and absolutely no master plan.
To truly enter the microcosm of the Mennofolk phenomenon, one must begin with the process of the creation of music. Within the musician something stirs, an urge, a vision, a shimmering form just beyond consciousness. Using the tools of musical training, the composer or arranger reaches into their own subconscious to tap into emotions and images, and makes them real, capturing them on page or instrument. At times, good work reaches the collective unconscious, illuminating archetypes that resonate with human experience wider than the author. One could say that the process of song making creates form, or order out of the chaos of our minds and souls. When a songwriter creates a piece, they bring to that process all their life experience, including the world view of their religious or social community. Employing the theory of autopoiesis, all of reality is thus created, and the artistic process of music simply mimics the mind’s work as it understands and projects the wider reality. In this way, folk music becomes a portrait of the folk, indeed of the projection of the perceived reality of a people within a folkway (cultural or religious) group.
As Mennofolk festivals bring musicians from the Mennonite community together, they form a wider circle of a collective portrait. Musicians are not asked to sing on certain themes, or to profess any specific theology; they are simply invited to do what they do, and express their inner world through music for the benefit of the wider audience. Something very beautiful begins to happen; just as the structure of a song created order out of vague, chaotic emotional, spiritual, or psychic experience, the collection of random Mennonite song-makers create an order, a fabric of song that reflects a community beyond a single artist.
To organize a Mennofolk is a lot of hard work. Money must be raised, venues provided, stages booked, the public invited. Most committees work by dividing up the jobs, and each person reports to the group about progress made on the project. Some decisions must be made collectively, such as payment policies, sponsorship relationships or yearly themes. The grass-roots committees organize themselves according to what is practical for their context. Some meet over kitchen tables, some meet in church offices. Some committee members are volunteers, some are in paid positions which support the festival. Money comes from businesses, congregations, individuals, grants, and ticket prices, though not all festivals charge for tickets or pay their performers. Basically, the “minimum specs” (Morgan, Images of Organization, 2006, p. 257) are few: Mennofolk is a collection of artists from Mennonite backgrounds.
So many variations can be drawn from this minimum order. Festivals have included fine art, crafts, spoken word, musical theatre, and all musical genres. Mennofolk festivals have been in bars, campgrounds, Main Streets or concert halls. Publicity has been scattered on stocking caps, postcards, expensive ads, mainstream folk music magazines, websites and billboards. Graphics might include professional glossy photos, clip art or a simple hand-sketched stave of wheat. To any professional marketing or branding office, the Mennofolk track record for public relations would indeed seem like chaos. Nowhere is there a mailing list, a membership file, or even a media data base. Even the Mennofolk website can be accessed and changed by numberous users, and musicians sign themselves up on it from their personal computers, presenting whatever they choose to represent or define them. From this chaotic, and widely divergent base comes order. Eventually, festivals have formed and built themselves.
Just as Morgan describes (Images of Organization, 2006, p. 251), “attractors” help to mold and change and evolve each festival, keeping things always fresh, always transforming. For those who wish to reach out to the public, a park or an outdoor venue might become more attractive than an indoor campus venue. Stage locations vary almost yearly, even if the home of that festival remains in the same city. One very successful festival ran for four years at a camp in Southern Michigan, peaked, and then died due to lack of visionary leadership. Just as it folded, two more festivals began in other locations, full of new energy, and a fresh audience. Though individual festivals change and even end, Mennofolk as a whole has just grown more widespread.
Through this process of constant flux and change, and transformation, Mennofolk has thrived as an organization. As we create the future through today, we wait for a vision to emerge without a static imposition of predisposed idea of what that future form will bring. In the religious words, we rely on the spirit of God to move in our midst. We use the tools of talent, tenacity and prayer, to participate in a prophetic process.
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Perhaps I was being too optimistic in this paper. I was really into the idea, but possibly making up a fantasy organization...
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