When the final structures are taken down and Black Rock City disappears back into the Nevada desert, what remains of Burning Man is memory. For those who travelled thousands of miles to be there, it lingers in dust-covered clothes, in the echo of music, in the sudden quiet after a week of constant motion. For those who didn’t make it, the event is a handful of viral clips or news reports about traffic jams and weather.
A city that exists for one week
Burning Man is not a music festival, nor a conventional arts gathering. Each year about 70,000 people build a temporary city in Nevada’s Black Rock Desert. It has streets, themed camps, art installations on a monumental scale, and a culture defined by principles of participation, inclusion and radical self-expression. When it ends, the city is dismantled and the desert floor is restored.
The United Kingdom has always had a strong presence. Travellers fly in from London, Manchester, Bristol and Edinburgh. Some join established international camps, others arrive solo and find their place within the sprawl of tents and domes. Regional events such as Nowhere in Spain were founded with heavy involvement from UK Burners and share the same ethos. For British participants, the annual trek to Nevada has become a cultural ritual in its own right.
For everyone else, the event can be difficult to explain. Pictures show the size, drone shots show the scale, but they rarely capture the feeling. That is where this film stands apart.
A soundtrack made of dust and steel
BonaMaze is the creative partnership of Stav Nahum and Gilad Avnat, two Israeli musicians turned filmmakers who specialise in what they call “The Sound Of” projects. Their method is simple but demanding. Record the authentic sounds of a place, then use those recordings to create both the soundtrack and the rhythm of the film. The environment becomes the music.
They have done it before with The Sound of Berlin, The Sound of Skateboarding featuring Tony Hawk, and NYC! Sound (Back) On. The work has earned them Emmy and Webby Awards, a Berlin Commercial Award and three Vimeo Staff Picks.
At Burning Man they recorded more than 3,000 sounds, from generators to temple bells, from bicycles crunching across dust to voices carried on the wind. Those fragments became the score. The editing turns the footage into a kinetic collage that conveys something closer to the lived atmosphere than a traditional recap could.
The executive producer was Ben Jacoby, a Guinness World Record holder and long-time Burner who founded the Flying Falafels camp. He has built a career around projects that combine endurance, spectacle and community, and he recognised that this short could speak to both participants and outsiders.
Authenticity over spectacle
Burning Man has been filmed countless times. YouTube is full of aftermovies stitched together from drone shots and wide-angle dance floor clips. Many are striking but few are trusted by the community. The culture has always been wary of commodification.
The Sound of Burning Man is different because it resists the usual tropes. There is no narration, no commercial polish. The playa itself provides the sound. That approach has struck a chord with Burners who are often quick to dismiss anything that feels staged.
For media outlets looking for visuals, this matters. Each year, editors are flooded with images of dust storms, celebrity sightings and traffic queues. What they rarely receive is a short, broadcast-ready piece that reflects the experience with credibility. That is why this film has circulated so quickly among participants and why producers from outside the community are beginning to take notice.
Why it matters in the UK
Britain has always had a relationship with Burning Man that goes beyond curiosity. Artists from the UK have contributed installations, performers have brought their acts to the desert, and designers have used the playa as a testing ground. Each year, hundreds of UK residents make the journey.
For those who stay home, the event often feels remote. The Sound of Burning Man changes that. It provides an accessible entry point that is neither sensational nor trivial. It shows the art, the people, and the texture of the city in a way that feels lived-in. For a London reader, it is both a reminder that the culture exists far beyond Nevada and an invitation to imagine what it might be like to step into it.
The road ahead
As the 2025 event closes and attention turns to 2026, the film stands as one of the lasting cultural artefacts of this year’s Burn. It will be shared by those who went as a way of saying “this is what it was really like.” It will be watched by those who didn’t as a way of understanding the appeal.
Burning Man has always been about impermanence. The city disappears, the structures are dismantled, the desert returns to silence. But every so often, a piece of media captures enough of the spirit to last longer than the dust on boots and bikes. The Sound of Burning Man may be one of those rare examples.
BonaMaze: https://bonamaze.com and https://instagram.com/bonamaze
Ben Jacoby: https://thebenjacoby.com and https://instagram.com/thebenjacoby
