The fifth annual Fort Desolation Festival took place in Torrey, Utah, on September 24-26, 2026.
One of Friday’s performers was singer-songwriter Grace Cummings, who traveled from Australia to share the bill with 25+ national and local acts. Her fiery vocals, paired with her lone bandmate (Miles Davis on synthesizer and theremin), caught everyone’s attention right away, and many called her set their favorite of the whole festival.
When asked why she decided to perform in Torrey, she says it wasn’t much of a choice. Cummings shared that ‘YES’ was the only answer she ever considered.
“I don’t look venues up beforehand. I like the element of surprise, and [Fort Desolation] certainly delivered more than I ever expected. It is so beautiful, and it’s a real relief and release to be here,” Cummings told me shortly after her set.
“I’m in awe of this landscape: I’ve never played in a place quite like it. Every time I look up at the sky, it’s a backdrop I want behind me all the time. It’s a very special place.”
It may come down to this overriding goal for all music festivals: to succeed at not feeling exactly like a stereotypical one. The larger fests come with a lot of history attached, from poor bathroom conditions to sky-high ticket prices to bad traffic conditions, and they’ve attached a bad reputation to what should be an out-and-out celebration. Fort Desolation, by contrast, has room to course-correct and define itself a little more with each passing year. You get your bands, but you also get to hike in postcard-like beauty or do yoga in the morning, pop into the very small town for live music in cafes for lunch, see bulls with exceptionally large horns, and catch midnight shows while wrapped in blankets and amid the camping trailers.








Photos by Natalie Simpson (Beehive Photo)
While Fort Desolation is a very for-Utahns sort of hootenanny — a string of days spent camping in the red rocks with good music and occasional corn dogging involved — it feels like it’s set to expand its proverbial wings. Next year will be bigger. Considering how swimmingly great 2026 went, word will get out. People (including happy musicians) talk; it’s how these things meet up with explosive growth. Besides, newcomers can wear cowboy boots and hats and ponchos to this one, even if it’s the only time of the year they do so. It’s City Slickers for festival-goers.
One thing I noticed this time around: the locals only stage easily kept pace with the national acts on proud display. And musicians and bands like Morgan Snow and Debra Fotheringham and Sarah McGraw and Pixie & The Partygrass Boys (and the rest of that list is long and stuffed with superstars) deserve to be on the festival stage after so many years in dark bars. Purple sunsets and a crowd of friends and new devotees trump playing covers on a crowded balcony on a Wednesday.
The spotlight shone a little brighter on the state’s talent this year, and that seems set to continue, but the other chosen bands — the national acts — were even better than expected. We loved and adored Andrew Bird for his haunted whistling and his Duke Ellington covers. For unveiling brand new songs and showing his devotion to nature and public lands. Futurebirds were absolutely solid. Drive-By Truckers were an end-of-the-night revelation. Rayland Baxter even paid tribute to Mac Miller. It was bliss. No notes, Fort Desolation. A job well done.









Photos by Natalie Simpson (Beehive Photo)
We’ll remember the pace of those few days as being absolutely unhurried. The nights that lasted long. The mornings that rolled out slowly. There were campfires and Airsteams and tents crowded together like a tidy, makeshift city. Nearby strangers became fast friends. There were polka dot stars in the sky and even a full moon to act as our flashlight. We all took a little red dirt home on our Chacos and had a few alfalfa scrapes on our feet, but they were just accidental souvenirs, added evidence of a good-to-great time.
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