by Gila Efrat and Batia Efrat
We arrive at Evol, which for the purposes of this article will be referred to as “Venus,” just as another Uber pulls up with the rest of crew. It’s perfect timing and we’re ready to immerse ourselves in what’s to come. We’re all geared up. Of course we are. Head to toe in mesh, black lipstick and 80s-inspired eye makeup. The vodka’s kicked in so we don’t so much enter the club as float. Unfortunately we missed the performance from Marianne Thesen-Law and Joshua Biggs. (We blame Tazme for sharing the Art Dealers’ mix right before the party, ultimately forcing our own pre-drinking shindig to go on longer than expected).
Nevertheless, things are in full swing and we’re eager to explore everything Venus has to offer. We head towards the art installation, by Kayo-Fay Tilley, where we find ourselves in a room washed in the glow of pink neon lights – we view it as a holy offering to every new retro wave and synth lover. New faces flood in and out. Someone needs to pee. Someone always needs to pee.
We seek out the only gender neutral bathroom available (though it didn’t stop us from using whichever one tickled our fancies during the night. We are fortunate for the lack of gender-policing, binary-upholding authorities in the heart of Venus). In the toilet stall, roses hang above us and fake blood spills from the roof to the walls which are covered in – you guessed it – glitter. All thanks to Lindsey Raymond’s handy work.
Back on the dance-floor, Nodiggity is on the decks, playing pop and hip-hop tracks from the 2000s to the 90s, taking us back to a not so distant past, expertly revived for the synth-loving scene that seems to be growing in the Cape of No Hope. Later that night we get to know Nodiggity and spoiler alert: They’re the bombdiggity.
An hour later, DRAGMOTHER (none-other than the illustrious Tazme Pillay) and co have taken to the stage, dressed in pearls and rose adorned stockings. Projected onto the wall, a montage of images flickers in harmony with the rhythms of the crowd dancing to Lady Gaga’s “Venus.” A fitting choice. We’re both electrified and just plain hypnotised by DRAGMOTHER’s stage presence. Then it’s time for a smoke break and another drink before The Jenners take over.
pictures taken by @alix.hodge
We head back to the dance-floor, forcing our way through the crowd as gently as forceful can be. Vinyl tunes move through the air like vapour, infusing our souls with nostalgia for a time few of us ever knew but often wish we had. Of course, there’s plenty of love in Aphrodite’s lair. Nudity is as welcome as the glitter and fetish gear. There’s a fair mix of flesh and fashion surrounding us. Flirtation and relevery set the scene.
All in all, the Death of Glitter did exactly what it promised to do. It transported us to another time and space where exploration, magic and shimmery aesthetics rule victoriously. A place which you will leave covered in faux blood and glitter with nothing but satisfaction and some delightfully foggy memories.
Special thanks to all the artists and performers who contributed to the space.
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