Three Sixty Festival 2026: Showcasing The Talent of Tomorrow

Following the inaugural Three Sixty Festival in 2025, much to the delight of countless music fans and supporters, organisers announced a return with this year’s festival taking place between 8th- 29th April 2026. Known for its deep-rooted commitment to supporting young emerging talent and its brilliant live music performances, the Roundhouse in Camden is much more than a venue- it is an independent flagship multi-arts space and youth charity, home to Europe’s largest non-formal creative programme for young people, and an integral, iconic part of the UK music scene.

Ahead of Three Sixty Festival which begins this week, we took the opportunity to sit down with two resident artists, Emmeline and Eliezer Gore who have experienced first hand the opportunities, support and growth in confidence that have come from being part of Three Sixty Festival and the wider creative community at the Roundhouse. 

For those of our readers learning your name for the first time, tell us a little bit about your own journey and some of those important lived experiences.

Emmeline - Resident Roundhouse Artist - Photo By Helen Murray

Emmeline:  I grew up in a small village near Huddersfield in West Yorkshire, in a creative household where I always loved to read and write. From a young age, I was completely immersed in the arts. When I was around 16, I was invited to a spoken word collective in Manchester called Young Identity. I started sneaking out of the house every Tuesday to be part of it.

Did you ever get caught sneaking out?

My parents assumed I was up to something far worse, so when they found out the truth, I was in the clear. It was there that I fell in love with the art of performing — the power of speech and the pull of lyrical expression. When I performed, people would tell me there was a strong rhythmic quality to what I was doing, but I had never thought to pair it with music.

When I went to university to study English, I met a few producers and started pairing language with music, creating a kind of hybrid form — part poetry, part song. After graduating, I began pursuing it more seriously alongside my writing. The way I describe what I do is lyrics-forward.

Give us a little bit of an overview of your own journey as well as from your perspectives some of the things you love about being part of the vibrant creative scene here in London.

Eliezer: For me, it all started with drama at school. Even as a young child, I remember writing stories and handing them to my primary school teacher — and he would actually call me by the name of the main character. Which is so funny, looking back.

Lewisham Youth Theatre came to my secondary school, and from the moment I started attending, everything changed. I got involved in theatre, started performing, and began building my confidence. One summer, we went away to a theatre camp, and there was a spoken word workshop. I wrote something, performed it, and the response from everyone was: you should keep writing. That was the moment I thought — there might really be something here. From then on, I just started writing — on the bus, wherever I could. And I think what made all the difference for me was the sheer number of young collectives and youth groups in London, because I never went to university to train.

Youth theatres, poetry groups, and open mic nights were where I truly learned the craft — both in theatre and in writing. I was building connections, watching incredible performers, and just going up to them afterwards and asking how they did it. And they were so welcoming. I remember asking Kareem Parkins-Bowne to mentor me, and he just said, yeah, this is how it goes.

I was mentored, and now I mentor others in turn. That's really the beautiful thing about the London creative scene — there are so many people willing to give you a leg up, read your work, or simply help push you forward. That's what it's been like for me.

Eliezer Gore - Roundhouse Resident Artist - Photo by Helen Murray

​At what point did you feel, okay, I've done writing for me and being creative for me, I'm now confident enough to start sharing it with someone or asking for help?

Emmeline: That's a good question.

There's a lot of “fake it till you make it” in this industry. Sometimes you have to walk into a room and introduce yourself as a poet, a writer, or a musician before you've even fully admitted that to yourself. And because the creative industries are so saturated and under pressure right now, it's hard to ever reach a point of full confidence in claiming that as your profession. There's an element of posturing involved — and I think most creatives know exactly what I mean.

But applying to opportunities — like the Roundhouse programme — and actually being accepted, becoming a resident artist, is a real vote of confidence. It gives you permission, in a way, to publicly share your work and own the identity of someone who does this. It builds gradually. You get that early confirmation at a local level, in your own community. Then you keep getting pointed towards bigger spaces, until one day you're somewhere like the Roundhouse — and they're telling you: you are an artist, take yourself seriously, and start sharing your work. Not just within groups, but actually taking steps to produce your work, get it in front of an audience, and build a following — because what you have is valuable and it deserves to be seen.

So talking about the Roundhouse then, so being part of the, so this is for you, with you being part of the Resident Artist Music Showcase, the first one, in association with Three Sixty Festival , how did you find the experience? And second of all, how much did you value the platform that the Roundhouse was providing?

Eliezer: Being accepted as a Resident Artist took a while to sink in. It wasn't until I actually started working with the Roundhouse that I fully understood how deeply invested they are in helping young people enter the creative industries. It's a truly remarkable programme — not just for the Resident Artists, but across the board. Film, production, poetry, music, camera work — it's a genuine deep dive into the creative industries from every angle.

Everything that happens in that main space is designed to put money back into young creatives. Beyond the incredible opportunities and the platform to perform, it's a mission I've come to genuinely care about. It's shaped how I think about the longevity of my career — I want to keep being involved with organisations that are committed to giving back. And then there's the show itself — Three Sixty Festival's showcase. For a group of emerging, early-career artists to be given such a professional platform to share our work is something we're all genuinely grateful for and excited about.

How did you find the application or selection process?

I remember sitting down with Kira and Maya for the interview, and they asked me: what can we do for you? What do you need? I was so used to just being grateful for any opportunity — I'll take anything, I'm not fussy, just thank you for having me.

But honestly, just being asked — how can we support you, what do you need for your personal growth and development — I was genuinely taken aback. I had never really stopped to consider that. It was such a meaningful thing to be offered, right from the very beginning. It told you everything: if you get in here, you will be seen and looked after.

How do you think being part of this community here has allowed you to be the person you are today?

Emmeline: Building on what I said earlier — being here has deepened my appreciation for organisations that actively reach out to young people and help pull them up the ladder. It's also given me a real sense of belonging in a community — something I hadn't fully experienced before. I'd had glimpses of it, but growing up in West Yorkshire and being somewhat planted in London, having a place where I can walk through the building and bump into someone I know, hear about a project someone's making, see a friend's artwork, or stumble across a collaboration — that's something truly special.

What do you both look for when a collaboration opportunity comes up? What are the values you look for in the other person?

Eliezer: I'm currently working on a play, so I've been looking for a director, a filmmaker, and so on. What I really value in a collaborator is someone with a strong voice — someone who knows what intrigues them, who notices the small details and appreciates people's individuality. That draws me in every time. A sense of joy in the work, and a genuine interest in what's being made.

The team I've been bringing together understands what I mean when I talk about London — what it means to be an artist trying to get your message out. My play is about that tension: who you are as an artist versus the art you're actually able to make, because sometimes you have to create work for consumption, and that isn't always what you would choose. They understand what the industry is like right now, and how difficult it is to make work that truly means something to you. That shared understanding is what I look for in a collaborator.

Emmeline: Shared excitement. When there's a mutual energy around an idea, an influence, or a specific project — that goes a very long way. And honestly, simply working with people you like goes further than you'd expect. In a relatively short time in this industry, I've learned that surrounding yourself with good people — people you believe in, who approach their work with the same ethos as you — is genuinely invaluable.

How do you find being able to positively challenge someone, but also positively receive the challenge they give you?

Emmeline: One of the first workshops within the Resident Artist programme was on giving and receiving critical feedback. It was genuinely useful — and honestly something I'd never been formally taught before. Understanding whether feedback is solicited or not, knowing how much to offer, and simply asking someone what kind of feedback they actually want — it sounds simple, but it makes a real difference.

Part of your role is as a young trustee. Given the Roundhouse's commitment to young people, how have you found championing and raising awareness of young voices within the industry in that capacity?

It's been a fascinating experience. I've only been doing it for around two months, but I've already learned so much more about the organisation as a whole — how committed the governing body is to constantly raising the bar, making opportunities fairer, more equal, and more wide-reaching, and pushing for greater investment in young people. What's been most exciting is seeing that no one here is resting on their laurels. Everyone is constantly striving to do better.

Since joining, I've been involved in two key initiatives. The first is the Roundhouse Youth Advisory Board (RYAB) — a group of young people who meet monthly to discuss what they want to see within the Roundhouse and how to improve it. The second is a youth commission currently in development, which aims to drive greater funding and national conversations around support for young people in the arts — well beyond the Roundhouse itself. I've been involved in both, and they represent two genuinely distinctive things this organisation is doing that make a real difference to young people.

What do you think are the main burning issues and frustrations and joys affecting young voices?

I think it's twofold. I think the first thing is pay, and that's a really big one. It's becoming increasingly difficult to see how someone can sustain a career doing purely creative work — and that's both a top-down, government-level issue and a bottom-up, organisational one.

At a grassroots level, young artists simply aren't being paid enough for their work and their time. And underpinning all of that is a wider cultural conversation about recognising the arts as a legitimate, professional, and genuinely impactful vocation. That, for me, is the central issue.

The other issue is social media, which ties directly into mental health. It's about personal branding — how young people build a name and a career for themselves without overextending or burning out in the process.

Think about the journey you've taken, especially with the Roundhouse and Three Sixty Festival. What are some of those other opportunities that have come as a result of being part of this beautiful community?

One came to mind just this week — we have a partnership with Chilly's, the water bottle brand, and I performed at an event for them two days ago. There are plenty of development opportunities like that. But beyond the tangible, it's also a more personal kind of growth — they invite you to be as involved in the programme as you want to be.

There have been areas where we've felt we needed more support — next week, for example, we're doing a vocal health workshop, because it was something we all identified as important but hadn't had much training in. It works on two levels: the Roundhouse puts opportunities in front of us that we can commit to and run with. And the other is the freedom to say: we need help with this. And they actually listen, go away, figure it out, and come back with something genuinely useful.

But the real culmination of it all is the show we're putting on for Three Sixty Festival — that's the pinnacle of everything we've been working towards. For me personally, it's been the ability to collaborate with other artists I've met through this programme — some I knew vaguely before, but have now built a much deeper relationship with through working together. And beyond that, being able to reach out to artists I've long admired and bring them on board for the show. That's something really special.

So when you have someone like someone like the Roundhouse that says, we see you, we believe in you, how special does that feel?

It's incredibly special. It ties back to everything I've been saying about confidence — your ability to walk into a room and say, I am a writer, I am a poet, I am a musician. That kind of self-belief carries you further than you'd think, because how you perceive yourself often matters more than how the world perceives you. For me, that's the biggest thing. It's that added layer of confidence — walking into a room and knowing: this is what I do, and this is what I have to offer.

And beyond that, the support they provide — access to a professional network, the genuine effort to help you build a career — is remarkable. So many times you're trying to validate the label: am I actually an artist? Can I call myself that? And then the Roundhouse simply says: yes, you are, we believe in you, we trust you. Do your thing.

They welcome you in and treat you like any other artist who walks through those doors — including those on the main stage. It's a level of respect that means everything. And as an emerging artist, that validation — the feeling that people genuinely see you and value what you do — is exactly what you need.

How do you think 12-year-olds you would react?

Eliezer:  He’d be screaming — absolutely wide-eyed. Because at that age, the thing that mattered most to me was being listened to. I was being listened to. And to like, now, to be able to see the way that I'm able to get on stage and people just listen to me perform, or people are reading my work and having all these nice things to say. It's all that affirmation I dreamed of back when I was a kid.

The fact that I get to write these fun, weird, wonderful things for a living — twelve-year-old me would be losing his mind. Yeah, he'd be very excited.

Do you think 12-year-olds, you would think years later you'd be living in London?

Emmeline: I think so, yes. I was an ambitious child — and at my core, I still am. Growing up in a small town, I always had big dreams of being somewhere deeply connected to creativity, and London was always the pinnacle of that for me. She'd be thrilled to know I made it here — and that I'm doing exactly what I set out to do.

What is the next chapter of your own personal journey?

Eliezer: Right now, I'm focused on developing the film element of the play I'm making, called Last Orders. The central character is a YouTuber, so film is woven into the DNA of the piece — and it's something I've genuinely wanted to explore. It's given me the chance to really ask: how do you actually make films? I want to bring that into my practice going forward, keep widening my skill set, and just keep adding tools to my wheelhouse.

And for you, you were chosen last year to be part of South by Southwest, and then signed to your current label, Lewis Recordings, and also named Guardians one to watch.  Have you had a chance to take on in all those different moments? Or do you still feel like that mind blown emoji?

Emmeline:  Honestly? I'm very forward-programmed — which probably isn't the healthiest trait, but my brain is always asking, what's next? Hearing it listed out like that, though, it does make you pause and appreciate it. There are some genuinely remarkable things on that list for this stage of my career, and I'm proud of every one of them. But I'm excited to keep adding to it.

To the next generation of talent that will one day be coming through the doors of the Roundhouse, if they haven't already, what would your advice be to them?

Hone in on the authenticity of what you have to say. You get the furthest by being truly honest with yourself and finding something unique in your own experience that you can express creatively. Find what makes you tick and pursue it relentlessly. And please, don't give up. It's a tough industry — especially right now — and there are real barriers to access. But there are so many voices that need to be heard and deserve to be heard.

Just having the energy to keep going can take you further than you'd imagine. And thinking about writing specifically — it can be a brutal process, because what you write feels like a direct reflection of who you are. If it doesn't come out the way you intended, it can feel like a personal failing.

One of the hardest lessons I'm trying to instil in myself is this: it may not sound right yet, but every time I write something, I'm getting closer to what it needs to be. Every version that doesn't quite land is still moving me forward. I just have to keep writing, and eventually, I'll get there. It comes down to having faith in yourself as an artist — trusting that you are learning and growing, even when it doesn’t feel that way.

How do you make sure that you're being kind to yourself?

It helps to treat it like a job — one where you have to switch off at some point. That's difficult when you're a creative, because it's so deeply tied to who you are. It seeps into your weekends, your mornings, your evenings — it can be all-consuming. But just as you would in a nine-to-five, there are hours to be switched on and hours to be switched off. As a creative, there are times when you have to put the pen down, put the phone away, and disconnect. Otherwise, it can become genuinely challenging for your mental health.

And remember: you can't do everything at once. There are so many pathways through the creative industries, and no two journeys look the same. Don't compare yourself to others. Stay on your own track, switch off when you need to, and give yourself permission to take it one step at a time.

Is there anything you do to treat yourself?

Emmeline: I love a long walk with my headphones in, listening to music that has nothing to do with work. I exercise — it really clears my head. And I love watching TV. I find it incredibly relaxing. I've just finished the new season of Industry. And I'm just starting The Wire — I think that'll keep me busy for a while.

Eliezer:  My approach to wellbeing starts with reminding myself that I am more than the art I make. I have people around me who value me for who I am, not what I produce. Sometimes it's about getting back in touch with them and remembering that I exist outside of my life as an artist — and that my friends and family are the very people who inspire the work I make anyway.

It's about tapping back into the roots of why I do this in the first place. Walking around Catford, for instance — I love Catford. I write about it all the time. Just sitting on a bench there, watching people go by — it's genuinely rejuvenating. As for treats, I buy hats. I invest in hats.

What makes a good hat?

If someone looks at it and says, that's a very you hat — that's the one. They spot you from down the street just from the hat — that's Eli.

As Three Sixty Festival gets closer, what are you most excited for?

Emmeline: Seeing the other resident artists. I'm genuinely curious about what the musicians are going to bring to the live performance. I've seen some of the other writers' work, but to see it fully staged — that's going to be something else.

We're often split between writers and musicians behind the scenes, so there isn't always that crossover. I'm equally excited to see what everyone brings on the night.

To everyone that's believed in your own personal journeys and supported you along the way, what would you like to say to them?

Emmeline:  Oh, that made me emotional. A massive thank you — a deep, heartfelt gratitude to anyone who has ever believed in me, supported me, or done anything to create opportunities for young people in the arts. It is such a vital mission, and now more than ever, it needs more energy, more investment, and more belief behind it. To everyone involved with that work, or with our programme specifically — just, thank you.

And yourself?

Eliezer:  Yeah, like it's a thank you that can't be said enough. The people who supported me and believed in me — the reason it meant so much is because I held them in such high regard. I valued them as people, not just as mentors or collaborators. And there was a real honesty to the support they gave me. I simply couldn't be who I am without all those people pushing me forward. A deep, deep thank you.

Well, it's been an absolute pleasure speaking with you both. We'll be keeping a close eye on the hat collection — and the merch.

For one epic month the Roundhouse will come alive with unique performances, world exclusives and unmissable collaborations. Whether it’s spectacular shows from established stars or emerging artists debuting fresh work, organisers are giving the stage to a vital and vibrant mix of music, spoken word, theatre, club nights, dance, exhibitions, literature and podcasts.

Three Sixty Festival is here to bring people together for unforgettable moments that you won’t experience anywhere else. So don't miss out for a chance to celebrate the music and culture under the roof of London's most iconic venue.

Visit www.roundhouse.org.uk/seasons/three-sixty-2026 for more information.