Imagine stepping away from your everyday life and wandering into a soft forest of sensorial encounters, shrugging off your personal agenda to go with the flow, becoming one with hundreds of strangers for four days without indulging in drugs or alcohol?
Art Labyrinth—Moldova’s riff on the iconic 1969 Woodstock festival, is committed to make this magic happen every summer, creating a space “where nature, art, inner journeys and community come together.”
I was among the lucky ones who found their way to this wild green wonder. To be honest, I’d been preparing for months, ever since my new friend Marina Skaletskaya told me about the community-led festival. She was born for otherworld adventures. A musician and philosopher, Marina achieved her master’s thesis while independently organizing this year’s entire music program.
Folk rock band Tricottage performed on the main stage
The English version of the festival website was really helpful, though I was unable to gather any intel from the voluminous chat group since Russian is the festival’s lingua franca. Thank the gods for Marina. She helped me finalize a must-have packing list and reserved my seat on one of the mini-buses scheduled to transport us to the hinterland for the event.
Having traveled to Chisinau for a 9-month teaching job with Peace Corps Moldova, I did not arrive equipped for camping. So I rented a small tent, a sleeping bag, and a couple of mats from LiMon. My friend Olga offered to carry the gear when she found a ride. I stuffed a couple of reusable shopping bags with our food, a blanket, and a change of clothes. I’d never in my life gone camping via public transit. For me, this was an existential challenge!
There were more passengers than seats on the bus. No matter. Everyone was thrilled to leave the city behind. A few took turns standing. Sagara, who would soon guide meditation sessions at the festival, sat on her yoga mat next to me. Four hours later, we’d become close friends. We traveled north on a wide paved throughway, then turned eastward on a rough gravel road that eventually narrowed into a steep and twisted dirt lane ending in an ad hoc car park at the edge of the Dniester River. We tumbled out to breathe in the fresh air and the view—shimmering water snaking its way to the horizon, an expansive tree canopy and verdant cliffs rising just beyond. Beauty, as far as the eye could see. We joyfully collected our belongings and headed for the check-in kiosk. Just beyond, I could see that a bright yellow sun capped the white metal door serving as the portal to Art Labyrinth.
Inside, the path sloped down and spilled out into a bright otherworld where music, art and community were coming together just for us. A tent village constructed overnight stretched along the edge of the sparkling river, with a network of walkways to designated areas for camping, food and drink stations, and a constellation of stages and canopied spaces for solo and group performances, workshops and talks, yoga and meditation. Families flocked to the dedicated “kid zone.” A few steps away, a full out sport area offered visceral massage and movement classes, knife throwing, and a rope swing that would take you flying past the river bank. Nearby, a tightrope tied low to two trees invited us to accept its unspoken challenge. At the far reach of the path lay the main stage, a gathering place for sensory encounters that beckoned day and night.
Moldova’s Woodstock is purposefully nomadic, materializing once a year in a different part of the country. Enduring requisites for site selection: easy access to a spring with clean water, a unique natural environment, well-defined paths leading to spaces that could accommodate the necessary infrastructure for camping, cooking, eating, performing and learning. This year Poiana hit the spot, welcoming 900+ artists and guests from Moldova, Ukraine, Romania, and beyond.
My friend Olga and I can testify to the perfection of this site. Indeed, she pitched our turtle tent next to a small tree in an open meadow. No numbered campsites. No cars in sight (except for set up and break down). A cloth laid on the grass outside our abode was the setup for picnics. Delicious spring water quenched our thirst. Swimming in the river refreshed us. The full moon lit the way home each night. We had a peaceful, quiet place to lay our heads; only a few neighbors murmured around their flickering campfires. Morning light came with cowbells as a few nosy bovines grazed their way through the tent village.
I’ll never forget all the bare feet. Self-consciously shorn, I was surrounded by hundreds who’d abandoned their shoes on arrival. Hippie style was de rigueur—flowing skirts, head scarves, halter tops, no tops. Wee ones outpacing pensive fathers. Teenagers trailing behind violet-haired mothers. More than a few Lost Boys. A handful of pointed ears and capes. Beards aplenty. Long flowing hair everywhere. Dogs and teens roaming free. Water bearers lining up to fill their empty vessels from the spring. Hungry people awaiting generous servings of freshly made soup and an array of raw cuisine. In the open-air canteen, everyone washed their own dishes.
Mobile devices were rare sightings, most having lost their bearings and energy within the first few hours. Festival goers who determined they couldn’t live without gathered silently around the charging station in a dining area. Powering up took tedious hours. This was not the magic part.
Art Labyrinth is not just a festival, but a space for live co-creation.
Meditation and yoga sessions encouraged our inner journeys. Charismatic instructors modeled their mastery with an uncommon sense of balance, stunning flexibility, and extraordinary stamina. Other skilled volunteers were there to teach beneath the trees—how to read runes, tie-die scarves, weave a dream catcher, make a mask, solve puzzles. Each day offered the chance to wander through a primitive art gallery, experience a hand-built sauna, stand or lie on a bed of nails, listen to a lecture, and sit for a tattoo or face painting.
Performances embraced a range of styles, from acoustic to electronic and folk to jazz. Standouts in my memory: Denys Balykhin. Funky Flamingo Fiasco. Tricottage. Les Biologistes Marins. A drumming group from Romania, Barbarossa led daily processionals along the main pathway, giving their all to the opening ceremony and final ecstatic dance.
Gratitude: For each sublime sunset and that gorgeous full moon rising in the vast starlit sky every night. The amazing lunch created just for me in the raw food kitchen. Herbal infusions offered in the popup tea shop near the main stage. The lovely nap I took beneath a river tree in the festival’s waning hours.
Visionaries
A month after this year’s dreamy festival, I sought out three visionaries, the thought leaders who inspire and guide the growing cadre of volunteer makers and doers that keep the festival going. Their commitment means everything.
It was in the year 2008, Alex Oduvan tells me, that he dreamed up the first festival with a couple of friends. They manifested their desire “to bring light and freshness to conservative Moldova,” by creating a space to gather around “non-things, non-mainstream stuff.”
Andrei Tverdokhleb remembers appearing at Art Labyrinth for the first time in 2015, with his own raw food kitchen. “I was inspired by its effects on the body and mind. I wanted to share my experience and show people new possibilities.” His role in the festival has grown increasingly complex. In 2025, he was catapulted into the driver’s seat, becoming festival director.
Their friend Serghei Stratulat became involved one year ago when he served as cultural program coordinator. In 2025, he became operations coordinator, assisting Andrei with logistics, managing volunteers, assuring that the infrastructure was functioning.
Core Values
Andrei: For me, the key value is the Power of Community. My main motivation is to see the festival positively impact people, unite them, and inspire them.
Sergiu: Mindful presence. People who seek a space beyond "normal life” for self-expression and self-discovery. The fact that the festival actually HAS values, and that lots of decisions are made with those values in mind. There is a moral standpoint that makes it inspiring to work on the festival.
Amazing Moments in 2025
Andrei: The most amazing personal moment was on Friday [the last day] when I lay in a hammock for 30 minutes. I was resting and doing nothing, just observing. At that moment, I realized the festival is running perfectly, everything works. The radio and phone were on, but nobody called or gave me tasks. I felt incredibly calm and confident: our team is amazing, everything is organized, everything is coming together perfectly.
The most inspiring community moment was the festival closing. The entire Art Labyrinth family — guests, organizers, and artists — gathered in a circle. We discussed both joyful and challenging moments, and everyone had a chance to speak. I felt a real sense of unity, a feeling of one big family creating something meaningful and alive together.
Insights from the Post-Festival Community Meeting
Andrei: At the meeting, I realized that we have the team and resources to open a cultural center in Chișinău. The festival in 2026 will be even more organized, structured, and large-scale.
Vision for the Future
Andrei: I envision the festival of the future as follows:
• about 3,000 participants, including international guests and cultural programs
• a large and active sports area
• a spacious and diverse children’s zone with an extensive cultural program
• artists from different countries creating installations on-site at the festival
• unique land art, decor, and design that will make the festival known across Europe
• organized at a high level, so every element works harmoniously and inspires people
Summing Up
Sergei: I am incredibly happy to have the opportunity to create something large, meaningful, unique, and socially significant. The festival inspires thousands of people and makes them happy, even if just for four days. I am grateful to God for the opportunity to organize Art Labyrinth, and I feel that I am exactly where I am meant to be.
We’re All Connected
Art Labyrinth’s range of music and performance continues to evolve and welcome new experiences. When Alex shared the documentary organizers produced following the 11th edition in 2018, I discovered that 2-year Peace Corps community development volunteer Carole Anne "Aziza" Reid once brought an African performer with her to the festival. Together, they led unforgettable and deeply transformative classes in dancing and drumming. Seven years later, I, too, experienced this cultural phenomenon by stepping off the beaten path. I jotted down this quote from Anne as I watched the film: “Moldovans—when they’re free, they rise higher than trees.”
My views do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the Peace Corps or the U.S. government.
Watch the 2018 Art Lab Documentary
