Joy can feel like a tall order when the world gives you plenty of reasons to be angry. For Adelaide’s Feast Festival, though, the two aren’t mutually exclusive.
Returning this November, the annual LGBTQIA+ arts and cultural festival brings more than 160 events to Adelaide across three weeks of Pridevember. Theatre, cabaret, comedy, drag, visual art, film and community gatherings all feature in a programme built around one central idea: joy. Not pretending everything is fine, but claiming the right to be happy in the first place.
“Queer people are often told to shrink, not to stand out or make trouble, and that maybe our identities aren’t valid,” Creative Director Katherine Sortini says. “Being joyful and owning that part of your life, your identity and your love can be pretty powerful.”
For Sortini and Executive Director Skye Bee, joy is both celebration and resistance. Anger, grief and protest have their place, but so does being yourself without apology.
“We should be angry. Pride is a protest,” Sortini says. “But we also need to keep ourselves safe and remember that there’s joy within our community and within ourselves. We have so much love to bring.”
Bee sees joy as permission to exist authentically, beyond the struggle of simply getting by.
“It’s permission to exist, to enjoy ourselves and to be authentic,” they say. “To experience the parts of life that aren’t a struggle, without having to put a caveat on them or hide them behind closed doors.”
That philosophy shapes a programme celebrating queer people making art and telling stories that don’t always get the spotlight. 'My Grandpa Doesn’t Follow Me On Instagram' follows a trans woman on a road trip with her grandfather as she attempts to come out, finding moments of queer joy along the way. After its Adelaide season, the production will tour regionally across five stops.
Phoebe Rodger’s 'Phoebs, You’re A Lesbian' takes a musical approach to coming out, blending cabaret and personal storytelling. Both shows reflect the festival’s commitment to celebrating queer life alongside its more difficult realities.
“We’re celebrating the fact that we’re queer, that we make art and that we make good art,” Sortini says. “We’re coming together as a community to celebrate that.”
With more than 160 events on offer, audiences can explore everything from live performance to cinema and visual art. Some of the festival’s biggest gatherings are free, including the Opening Night Street Party and the closing Picnic In The Park at Whitmore Square / Iparrityi. Expect local performers, music, art, market stalls, food, a dog show and interactive activities.
For Bee, accessibility is fundamental to the festival’s purpose.
“There shouldn’t be a barrier to community, and there shouldn’t be a barrier to art,” they say.
Feast offers concession and Mob pricing, community pricing and pay-what-you-can options to help ensure cost doesn’t exclude people from participating in cultural life.
“We don’t want someone’s economic circumstances to prevent them from experiencing togetherness, culture, community or art,” Bee says.
That emphasis on connection extends to the Feast Hub, which takes over Goodwood Theatre and Studios. Alongside exhibitions, workshops, panels and free events, it’s a place to grab a drink, see some art and spend time with others, even without a show ticket.
“We want people to come to a show and stay to connect with a community they might never have met before,” Sortini says. “So much of our community talks about how difficult it can be to connect. If we can create a space where people can drop in and just hang out, that’s a start.”
Feast is working to make those connections last beyond November, too. Its new Community Nights initiative partners with queer artists and independent productions to offer discounted tickets to selected theatre, cabaret and art events, supporting both audiences and artists throughout the year.
“We love Pridevember because it’s a time when we can come out and authentically be ourselves,” Sortini says. “We started thinking about how we could make that happen all year round, rather than having just one month when people feel safe enough to be themselves.”
Behind the scenes, Feast is a not-for-profit run by a small team, voluntary board and volunteers, with planning already underway for future festivals.
“We’re working on 2026, 2027 and 2028 right now,” Bee says.
That forward thinking comes as Feast prepares to celebrate its 30th anniversary in 2027. For Sortini, who turned 30 this year, the milestone is a chance to recognise the artists, organisers, volunteers and community members who built the festival into a platform for queer expression.
“It’s an incredible reminder of how many arts workers, artists, community members and trailblazers have come before me and poured their passion, drive and ambition into this festival,” she says.
As Feast looks to its next chapter, the challenge is to honour that history while making room for new artists, audiences and ways to connect.
Sortini hopes people carry this year’s joy beyond the festival itself. That could mean messaging someone they met at Picnic In The Park, following an artist whose show they loved or buying a ticket to their next production. Queer art continues long after Pridevember, and so should the support for the people making it.
“Joy doesn’t end,” she says. “We can continue to find it, share it and connect.”
After all, the real measure of a festival might not be how much joy it fits into three weeks, but how much people carry into the rest of the year.
Feast Festival 2026 is on in Adelaide from 1-22 November.
