The Bassiani team chose a forest-lined Soviet sanatorium for ICKPA festival to combat the sultry summer heat. Khvylya, a location that harkens back to childhood memories of sporting events and spa treatments, is an hour's drive from Kyiv's city center, and offers on-site camping and accommodation. "We did not want to repeat something that already existed in the Ukrainian scene," festival founder and Bassiani co-owner Zviad Gelbakhiani told DTF magazine, early last month. According to Gelbakhiani, who moved to Kyiv after the severe lockdown in Georgia completely paralyzed its domestic club life, the idea of doing something outside his native Tbilisi had been ripening for a long time.

Kyiv is a must-visit destination for music lovers and club tourists, with the number growing every year. Since 2014, after the Revolution of Dignity, Kyiv and its nightlife has garnered global attention. Its Cxema rave, thrown in collaboration with Berlin imprint PAN and Boiler Room, attracted five thousand people per night. Meanwhile, Strichka and Brave Factory, which are closely affiliated with legendary Kyiv club Closer, became two highly anticipated festivals within the city's summertime circuit. The club ∄ (also known as "club on Kyrylivs'ka") flourished into a remarkable place for party-goers and a haven for the queer community. Every weekend, planes of budget airlines touchdown in Kyiv, jammed with clubbers longing for a real party experience—which barely stopped throughout the pandemic.

Strict lockdowns occurred at the beginning of last spring, and then in January and April 2021. Mass events were prohibited in Ukraine, but it seemed many were flippant with the official rules. Cafes and bars continued to fill with people, and parties went ahead as usual because cultural institutions and small businesses could not otherwise survive in the absence of government support. This is, in part, why Kyiv drew in key electronic music scene influencers—artists, booking agents and promoters who now call this city their temporary home.

"Our goal is to make ICKPA a 'very Kyiv' event, like Bassiani was for Tbilisi in the beginning. With its own identity, but known all over the world," Zviad told DTF magazine. "This is a multifaceted festival, a celebration of local culture, which has many components—discussions, sports, art." According to David Chikhladze, the festival's Communications Director, ICKPA's organization took roughly two months from the initial idea to the final result, and this is undoubtedly worthy of respect. However, the haste was evident at all levels of the festival experience—from organizational details, like an open hatch in front of the entrance, in which several visitors managed to fall, to programming delays like the queer cabaret that started 3 hours later than the designated time.

The ICKPA grounds consisted of three active stages on its inaugural day—the eponymous main stage, the Veselka stage, curated by local promoters, and the Hothouse stage, a cozy greenhouse shrouded in plants and warm light, which went non-stop from Friday evening until close and became the festival's chief highlight. Local DJs and dancing crowds inaugurated both locations. Pavel Plastikk—co-founder of the Kyiv collective LOW, who throw funk, disco and house parties—skillfully tuned into the festival vibe, setting a perky mood on the Hothouse stage before passing the baton to Frankfurt legend Roman Flügel.

The Veselka stage, housed in a converted gym, was small and poorly ventilated, barely accommodating everyone who wanted to enjoy the hard techno sound from DJs VTSS, Salome, MCMLXXXV and Nastya Muravyova. Dressed in leather and sports clothes, sweaty, half-naked young athletes ran their festival marathons here. This stage brought together the most outrageous ravers, while the rest accommodated a more diverse, sometimes random audience. "People were free and happy," Berlin-based attendee Gils Weerwind said of the crowd. "Also, every floor had its own atmosphere, which was perfect for a change of energy."

After such an intense night, it seemed fitting to spend Saturday afternoon seeking an alternative experience. ICKPA's fourth and final stage, programmed by independent station 20ft Radio, ran from early morning until evening and hosted a lineup of local talents including David Shamiev, 20ft Radio's co-curator, Sasha Tessio and Artem Ikra, co-founders of Krossfingers, one of the first music media platforms in Ukraine, as well as Zolaa and Vladimir Gnatenko who played live and a wonderful closing set from Ponura, which became a revelation of the festival for me. According to Chikhladze, for the Bassiani crew, 20ft was the festival's highlight. However, compared to the others, there was a feeling it hadn't been given due preparation and was left adrift like a lonely boat far from the commanding ship. The stage looked raw and unfinished, the audience had to create their own makeshift seating with what they could find on site, and at times, the sound became too intense, disturbing festivalgoers trying to sleep at the campsite nearby. This dance floor was primarily empty until the last set from Ponura, who revived it.

After a short break, I flitted between the sharply contrasting frequencies of Jeff Mills's classic techno at the Main Stage, groovy sounds from local hero Koloah at the Hothouse, and hard wet beats from Salome at Veselka. The remainder of my time was spent in the Hothouse, restricting my movements around the festival grounds so as not to interfere with its security, which turned out to be the biggest organizational failure. Instead of providing protection, they blackmailed and extorted money from visitors who were found with drugs. These experiences were shared through Telegram groups, as well as by word of mouth. "There was an absolutely unfounded claim that I was using drugs and security would kick me out if they saw it again. Considering that I didn't use anything, the feeling was very unpleasant and they were totally convinced they were right," said one visitor in a closed Telegram group. He went on to report that a friend of his had a similar story, except he had been rolling a joint when seven guards suddenly approached with flashlights and started intimidating him. "Feeling unsafe was the most off-putting part," another guest, who initially thought the event had a lot of potential, told me after the fact.

Security is a salient topic nowadays, especially in Ukraine, where the police are corrupt and see the party scene as a way to make money and abuse their power. Given this context, it's so important to create a safe space with security guards who are properly briefed on how things work and how they can protect festivalgoers. This is what representatives of the Kyiv scene are trying to do and what organizers from other countries should also pay attention to, especially with a festival located in the woods, so far from the city center.

"As much as we believed in ICKPA, neither our friends nor ourselves felt it was a safe event and it is not something we would like to promote or be part of, especially in 2021 when attacks on our community are so wide-spread," stated a festival participant, who chose to remain anonymous.

In response to these statements, Chikhladze told Resident Advisor that his Kyiv team confirmed these accounts, and also added, "We are trying to identify every single security officer mentioned in those complaints and fix the issues raised. One thing is for sure, this company will be fired and we are going to have a new security provider for the second edition."

While ICKPA boasted a powerful lineup of international headliners and succeeded in creating an ovation-worthy queer cabaret, other aspects of the program felt ill-thought out and random. One of the installations, a three meter long sculpture titled "Reflective Toy" by artists Alina Kleytman and Dana Kosmina, hung from a tree bathed in light, creating hypnotizing, shimmering rays. While beautiful, the piece's location deep in the woods and near the toilets made it feel abandoned, and not a particularly attractive place to spend time. Another highlight of the art programme, various sculptures by CROSSLUCID, were hard to find without proper guidance, and therefore missed by many festival visitors. Speakers from Kyiv, Tbilisi and Belgrade discussed the past and present of underground cultures in their respective cities in the panel "Underground, which rises from the post-socialist ashes." The chosen subject made me wonder why discourse about our Soviet past still generates so much hype. It seemed like a marketing tool used frequently by promoters and festival organizers, and I was surprised to encounter the same discussion at such a forward-thinking festival. Additionally, there was only one representative from the local scene at the panel, Vera Logdanidi, who was one hour late because of a scheduling conflict with her set.

By taking more time before its second iteration, perhaps the ICKPA organizers will be able to answer some crucial questions—what is ICKPA, and why does Kyiv need it? Does Kyiv need to rethink its socialist past, or are its residents looking forward to the future, eager to crystallize their own unique identity?

Maya Baklanova is a freelance journalist, editor of Tight Magazine and is affiliated with ∄.