If I had to pick an experience most emblematic of the art and music scene in Central Oregon, it would be Sisters Folk Festival (SFF) and their Americana Song Academy. I also get jazzed for BendFilm Festival (and even the Sisters Outdoor Quilt Show), but I’m here today to tell you about SFF. Heads up: 2026 weekend passes are now on sale and they do sell out.
What Sets Sisters Folk Festival Apart:
- All the town’s a stage: At least it feels that way when SFF is in full swing. There are massive tents covering grassy fields for the headliners; outdoor courtyards with shoulder-to-shoulder seating; a former church-turned-listening venue; the grocery store parking lot tent; and the extended cafe patio.
Park the car and walk (or bike): This festival is best experienced as a pedestrian. The venues are all within blocks of each other, making it easy to walk between locations. A big part of the appeal is the festival’s logistical ease. You can leave the Village Green tent, heading towards Sisters Salon for bluegrass, but get lured by the rock band in the grocery store tent. Then you can meander into Crazy Like a Fox Vintage, try on a house coat, and carry on down the street. The Open Door has a stage under the pines with a coveted courtyard where you can get yourself a G&T from a vintage trailer that’s been converted into an outdoor bar.
There’s a sense of ease: This will be the 29th year of SFF, and their experience shows. For the most part, they’ve got the logistics dialed. You either get a day pass or a weekend access pass and then you can go in any of the venues—as long as there is space. My one gripe is the process for picking up festival bracelets, which are your credentials to enter the venues. There were roughly 6-8 people working the check-in booths before the first show Friday and about, I don’t know, a hundred people in line. It moved fairly quickly, but yow! For those interested in attending SFF next year, plan extra time for check-in, especially if you want to see one of those first performances.
The entertainment value is high: The sound is top-notch as are the performers, and SFF has a fairly diverse lineup. Yes, it is still mostly folk music suitable for the outliers of the age demographics, but even within folk, there’s a wide range of sounds.
There’s an emphasis on art rather than product: I once heard Jim Cornelius, the editor of the local paper say something like, ‘you can swing a cat anywhere in Sisters and hit an artist.’ While that’s a disturbing image, it’s memorable and feels accurate. Homespun, high-quality art and wares are a defining element of the festival: the high school luthier program has a booth; the local guitar manufacturer is present; the annual festival posters are made by local artists with a passion for music; each stage is different and features local art; there used to be quilts on display and lining the massive tents…don’t recall if those were up in 2025…but my point is, all these touches are an important part of the festival’s appeal.
Sisters Folk Fest Artist that I Loved in 2025
Maia Sharp: Major songwriter chops; good sense of humor; kind human and recently opened for Bonnie Raitt at Hayden Homes Amphitheater in Bend
Mason Via: Bluegrass heart-throb; formerly of Old Crow Medicine Show; can silence a crowded room by singing an Appalachian ballad; solo album is solid and catchy
The Rebel Eves: three singer-songwriters performing original songs that re-write tropes and biblical stereotypes about women
Joy Clark: New Orleans songwriter; able to quickly improve other people’s songs in songwriting workshops; general badass
White Horse: boy/girl duo from Canada who rock; I need more of them on my playlists.
Song Academy at Sisters Folk Festival
I attended Song Academy in the days that led up to SFF. It is hosted at Caldera, which is located on a glorious slot of land at the base of the Cascades, nestled behind Suttle Lake. Any event or retreat that’s held in the Caldera lodge has a high chance of succeeding based on the setting alone; it’s a real forest bath. And it was wonderful to experience a cathedral of pines near the lodge, with the babbling creek and the melodies and strings of fellow camp musicians.
There were several artist mentors that I met who were kind and generous with their time, words, and songwriting skills. Mason Via explained to me how he goes about structuring a song (it didn't include corn liquor, but did involve a bar scene) and turns out he’s from my old stomping grounds in FL. Nashville’s Maia Sharp had a real knack for identifying what’s working and where the potential lies on a page of lyrics. In her class, I watched her analyze and offer insights that would have taken me weeks/months/years to unearth from song drafts. Joy Clark, hailing from the Big Easy, heard a verse and chorus of a song of mine, and offered a chord change that up-leveled the emotions. The dude from White Horse, whose music I somehow had not heard prior to the festival (they’re effing awesome!), gave me a 'you rock!' in the hallway after I performed for open mic, and good grief it made my night—that moment and Scott, a guy from Sisters, who said my song reminded him of Liz Phair. I’m peaking! And each of these folks were friendly, said hello, and looked you in the eye. It seems simple, but when you’re down and out, these gestures go a long way.
This was actually a serendipitous event all around, because I attended at the suggestion of my friend Holly, who is a writer extraordinaire based in Bend, but I happened to meet her at a writing conference in Kauai. So grateful for Holly's invitation and the creative immersion that week.
The other wins of Song Camp were the connections with other songwriters; the food and conversations around meals; hiking the charred ridges that surround Blue Lake with Holly; borrowing a kayak from the boat house, paddling across Blue Lake, and with each stroke the surface pollen receding and revealing the sapphire waters and the occasional glint of trout below.
