On a cool dry-season afternoon in Garramilla, I walked into something more than an event; it was a homecoming. Garrmalang Retrospective was never going to be just another celebration; it was a decade of love, resistance, and Blak brilliance brought to life on Larrakia Country.
"There have been so many powerful moments over the past decade," reflected festival founder and Creative Director Ben Graetz.
"But the ones that stay with me are seeing our Elders and young people centre-stage, telling their stories and being celebrated in our communities. Garrmalang was always about creating a space for us, for our stories to be told on our terms. Seeing that vision come to life year after year is incredibly moving."
The afternoon began gently with Our Elders; a living dialogue across time. Their words carried the weight of history, yet the softness of care. Tears, laughter, and long silences stitched a shared memory together. In those moments it became clear that Garrmalang isn't performance; it is truth-telling.
Graetz says that power comes from placing generations side by side.
"Intergenerational storytelling is at the heart of Garrmalang. It's how we've passed knowledge down for tens of thousands of years, through story, song, dance, and art," he said.
"This year's retrospective is a powerful reminder that we stand on the shoulders of those who came before us. When our young ones see those stories honoured, it shows them that their voices matter too."
The photographic exhibition that followed felt like tracing country with my feet. Images from festivals past — faces dancing, painting, speaking — showed how many of us have grown alongside Garrmalang. In every frame a decade of artistic courage stared back with quiet pride.
As the sun dipped low, the theatre filled with sound. Families gathered, kids danced and Elders nodded along. Then Dan Sultan, backed by the Darwin Symphony Orchestra Quintet, stepped forward. Each note seemed to breathe Country back into our chests — soft where it needed to be, fierce when it had to roar.
"Music is one of the most powerful tools we have. It cuts across language, age, background, and experience," Graetz said.
"For First Nations mob, music isn't just a performance; it's ceremony, healing, protest, and celebration. Having someone like Dan headline this year was a huge honour."
From a seed of an idea in 2014, Garrmalang has grown into a nationally recognised festival, yet Graetz maintains its purpose remains unchanged.
"Garrmalang has grown in ways I never could have imagined — more artists, bigger audiences, national recognition. But its purpose has never changed: to honour and elevate First Nations voices from the Top End and beyond. What's stayed true is our commitment to authenticity, community, and creating space that is safe, bold, and unapologetically Blak," he said.
That authenticity is felt in the way each program strand still begins with a Welcome to Country, how Elders are always placed first, and how young creatives are mentored rather than merely booked. The festival has become both mirror and map, reflecting who we are while charting where we might go next.
As the night closed, I asked Ben what legacy he hopes Garrmalang will leave.
"I want Garrmalang to remain a place of empowerment — where young people can see themselves reflected, where our stories are held with pride, and where mob from all walks of life can gather, connect, and feel seen," he said. "The legacy I hope we leave is one of courage, joy, and self-determination. When we lead with culture, strength, and heart, the possibilities are endless."
Ten years on, Garrmalang still feels like the beginning. It is more than an arts festival; it is a living classroom, a healing ground, an unapologetic celebration of Blak excellence. I left inspired, proud, and fiercely connected, already counting down to the next gathering where stories will soar; again, and always, on our terms.