It is darkest before the dawn

No AI was used to compose any part of this text

Introduction

Since my early twenties, I’ve been involved with the Dutch fantasy festival called Castlefest. Over 50.000 people come to the Keukenhof Castle grounds to celebrate abundance, imagination and inclusivity during the first weekend of August. Connected to the pagan harvest festival of *Lammas* a huge Wicker figure carrying offerings by the festival visitors, is burnt. Since some years, I’m involved as the music composer, ceremonial “architect”, and sometimes musician. This is a huge honour that I take very seriously.
The tricky part of crafting this ceremony, is the obvious enormous amount of people watching and listening, and their diverse backgrounds. This means dancing a fine line between spirituality and entertainment in a way that honours everyone’s personal connection to the Wicker. Secondly, there is the practical limits. These have to do with for example time, resources, and safety-limits. We’ve done our utmost best each year, to make due with everything we had. This meant disappointing people, within and around our team. It meant taking certain risks, making decisions - and definitely not always successful ones. Although ever with the goal of finally striking the right balance… we always aim to give to the people not just what they want, but also enough of what they need.

Dagaz - the Wicker Ceremony of 2026

Once Jeroen Overwijn shared the theme for this year, Dagaz - The Dawn, in the shape of a phoenix-like creature, I started the proces by finding the right musicians and the right process to create the soundworld that fits the theme. I made steps but didn’t feel I was getting any closer. I was challenged… definitely influenced by various personal circumstances, which meant the collapse of what was life as I learnt to live it. I did get inspired by the sessions with Sophie Zaaijer (violin and other strings), and Micky Huijsmans. I asked Micky as the lead singer, since her voice can embody both intense darkness and the light. I hadn’t worked with her before, and she impressed me with her skill and professionalism. I knew now I wanted to make two parts to the music: a dark part that could slightly challenge the audience, because it is the most dark part of the night just before the dawn comes; and a light part, that comes in only once the fire is lit. But despite my efforts, things didn’t fall into place…

The recording of the flight of a huge bird would mark the rise of the Sun, the Dawn… once the Wicker is lit. On a very special journey to Egypt, I met a man who was living in the Dawn of his own life, having survived cancer. I remembered him, and his passion for keeping big birds of prey. He was willing to have me and my microphones over to come and record his biggest one: the golden eagle. But somehow the date for the recording kept moving up and up. One evening I finally made my way to his place. I still remember listening to the recordings the next morning, putting them to my music. From that moment, things were starting to fall into place. At the same time I had a massive breakthrough personally… and the phoenix started to show up in more and more places in my life. From then on it became almost addictive to work on the music. And together with the support of Jyoti Verhoeff (who helped me to write the choir parts), the music started to take shape.

Becoming the voice

Two other people considered for the role of the narrator of the ceremony stepped aside… and only at the beginning of June the role was dropped into my hands. I marvel at the working of fate. Inspired by Jyoti’s deep esoteric insights into the nature of Dagaz and the phoenix, I set out to write the words to the ceremony myself. It was the sentence “It is always darkest before the dawn” that became the seed for the rest of the words. This year I wanted to address the audience directly, and call on them to actively participate in the ceremony.

In the text, an introduction into the nature of Dagaz is followed by carefully crafted spell… leading people to a place of total surrender. I learnt the words by heart. I knew I wanted nothing in between me and the people once I would say those words. I would have the text on paper by my side, for safety. But somehow during soundcheck the bookstand was not on stage. I decided there and then, that I didn’t want safety, and never asked for it. I left the written words on the floor. It was beyond special to lead all those beautiful people into ceremony, and I enjoyed every moment of it.

The people

Creating this ceremony is a group effort. The music and words might originate with me, but it only comes to life because of the musicians performing it. Each musician in this group is capable of making their sound a vessel for the energy that wants to pass through, and they do this with integrity. Moreover, they do this as part of a whole. We were a tight circle, and I’m so proud of each and everyone and how they went into this with their hearts wide open.

Since the production is a one-off, I was extremely happy with the participation of Marie de Koning as our live sound engineer. Marie was my intern many years ago, and has done a lot of work both in the studio and in live sound. She managed to create an atmosphere and work environment where everyone felt safe with their sound. Things went smoothly and even last minute changes were incorporated. I’m beyond grateful she was prepared to jump into the deep with us.

Besides the music, there is a lot more parts: logistics, production, and the creation and coördination of the garments. All people involved were so amazing and so generous with their time and effort. On the day of the ceremony, I was carried by the workings of many of the women. It is their words and workings that have done a lot of work. This might not be visible, but it enhanced the power of the ceremony.