What have they done to Artscape? That’s the question my wife and I were left asking Saturday evening as we wandered away from the festival’s new downtown location, feeling more let down than lifted.

For years, Artscape had been Baltimore’s crown jewel of festivals – big, bold, a little funky and proudly inclusive. This latest version felt like a copy of a copy, faded and missing the magic.

The new setup, squeezed onto the back streets near City Hall and parking lots under the Jones Falls Expressway, is intended to help spark a renaissance downtown. Let’s hope that somehow happens because the new location certainly wasn’t sparking anything good for Artscape.

The so-called Flavor Lab, the main food area, was a crowded maze. Long lines, little seating and the drab surroundings didn’t exactly whet the appetite. A few murals and some string lights tried to dress it up, but the scene was less than inviting.

And drinks? You needed to buy a wristband before you could even get in line for one. By the time that process played out, the only thing buzzing was our frustration.

Limited Music, Hidden-Away Art

Even the music, long the heartbeat of Artscape, felt diminished. Fantasia and Tweet and others showed up and did their thing.

But the lineup lacked the depth and variety that once gave this festival its global feel. No Latin stage. No West African rhythms. Hardly any jazz.

The mix used to reflect the layered soundtrack of Baltimore. This time it felt narrow.

Back when the festival took over Mount Royal Avenue, Artscape had room to breathe. You’d walk past – and into – the Maryland Institute College of Art, the Lyric, and the Meyerhoff.

Artists and performers lined the streets. After grabbing a fried fish sandwich, you could buy an original painting or purchase handcrafted jewelry while hearing live music in the distance.

(I can’t vouch for the art this year, which was mostly displayed inside the cavernous War Memorial Building – we were too turned-off and frazzled to venture in.)

The main stage sat like a glittering gem in the grassy bowl near Mount Royal Station. Over the years, that stage welcomed legends – Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, George Clinton, Joan Jett, Common, Dionne Warwick, Al Green.

Music that moved people. Music that made you proud to be in Baltimore.

It wasn’t just about the headliners, either. You’d hear reggae, funk, hip hop, gospel, electronic beats and rock riffs. It was a three-day affirmation of the city’s creative spirit.

When the festival took over Mount Royal Avenue, you’d walk past – and into – the city’s cultural treasures, feeling like you belonged.

You could show up with your kids. Your cousin visiting from out of town. Or just go solo and still feel like you belonged.

For my wife and I, Artscape was part music festival, part community reunion. Some years, we’d go all weekend, bumping into former neighbors, old basketball buddies, our children’s former classmates, folks we hadn’t seen in years.

It reminded you that this city – so often overlooked and underestimated – still knew how to shine.

At its peak, Artscape was billed as the largest free outdoor arts festival in the country, drawing as many as 350,000 people.

It had its ups and downs, to be sure. COVID hit hard. There were organizing issues and weather delays. But the festival always felt world class.

Something Less

This new version, though, felt like something less. Not terrible, but certainly not what it once was.

The city moved the date from July to May and shifted the location to a gritty part of downtown in hopes of injecting new energy into a struggling area.

That’s a noble idea. But can a festival really lift a forlorn section of downtown?

We had our doubts, but we tried to roll with it. After looking around, we decided to skip the food lines. We also passed on the wristband-for-a-drink hassle, and bounced from one stage to another, hoping the music would lift us. But it never quite clicked.

So we left.

We grabbed dinner at a restaurant in Station North, where the ghosts of past Artscapes still linger, and tried to hold onto the memory of what once was.

And we wished for Artscape to return home to where it belongs.
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• Michael A. Fletcher is a longtime resident of Baltimore’s Hunting Ridge neighborhood. A former reporter for the Baltimore Sun and Washington Post, he is a senior writer with ESPN’s enterprise/investigative team.