Angie, Logan and Jo, as the curators behind Contort Yourself, usually opt for bunker-style venues and other cosy, indoor spots when they throw us a party. On Saturday, they traded this for the amphitheatre in Minnippi parklands – an intimate space encircled by lofty trees and grass that is simply BEGGING to have picnic rugs sprawled across it.
The afternoon start guaranteed that our opening act, DJ Chainmail, would be enjoyed against a luxurious sunset glow. The soundscape featured a bit of melodic house, a bit of something I call ‘romcom bike riding music’ and a bit of something Logan later described to me as ‘sun-drenched sampadelica… plunderphonic dreams… hip hop recliners’. This description sounds absolutely wild to me, but I love fancy words, so it’s going in the article. The atmosphere was the kind where you feel inclined to play frisbee and hula hoop, while a gentle dog runs around and greets everyone. And what do you know! People had brought frisbees and hula hoops, and Buddy the gentle dog was running around, greeting everyone.
As the light faded, the crowd was drawn in from the outer edges of the amphitheatre and the gathering groovers became illuminated by soft, colourful spotlights. It’s such a novelty when the lights do that UV thing and any white on your clothing starts to glow. Without a doubt, people were pointing at their friends and saying ‘look at your shoes. They are glowing’.
A chill settled over the parklands once the sun dipped beyond the horizon – dancing has become not only a means of entertainment, but a practice in warmth.
One girl wears a linen set that offers no barrier against the night time chill. It’s probably an expensive set too, from Deiji Studios, maybe. Retailing for $249 if I had to guess. But nobody could appreciate it anyway, because she’s nabbed one of the aforementioned picnic rugs and was tightly wrapped in it. Yes. It’s me. I was the girl in the linen set. And I would like to take this opportunity to thank Angie, the host with the most, who offered me even more blankets. There were actually many others who offered me jackets, jumpers, blankets and hugs. This paragraph may seem like a personal tangent, but really I feel that all this is representative of the evening mood; connection, empathy, and thoughtful offerings in both music and outerwear. Thanks guys.
Approaching 6pm – Edgé on the decks. I hear remarks of ‘very Italo disco!’ and ‘80s vibes!’. And I concur. Buddy’s on amphitheatre patrol, and he’s giving loveable security guard. He’s soaking up the pats, but maintaining an aura of vigilance. Partygoers in long dresses and puffer jackets are twirling around him, and he is so happy to be there. He is so great.
At 6.15pm, the dance floor is undeniably GOING. At 6.45, I’m feeling that the music is ‘spooky, strong beat’, but others are saying more reliable sounding things like ‘bohemian euro vibes’ (my friend Brayden) and ‘euro Italo energy’ (someone else). Bray is also holding a long, thin cigarette. Very on theme, very Italo disco. Nearing 7pm, and many can be heard singing ‘spending all your money on me, and spending time on me’. This is because Matt (Respect Guy) is playing ‘I Need A Freak’, sample source for ‘My Humps’.
The sound becomes a little chunkier when Hysteric gets going. Jo later describes it as ‘cosmic disco and contemporary Italo, with smatterings of stripped-back techno’.
Never before I have written the word ‘Italo’ so much, but that’s just what it is.
I’m seated at the back of the dancefloor with Lucas and Hannah. Our arms are wrapped around one another to generate as much warmth as possible. As usual, I request commentary on the evening from Lucas. He immediately points at two people on the dancefloor. ‘Look over there. They’re hugging’. He points at us. ‘WE’RE hugging’. Everyone’s hugging. There’s been hugging all night.’
‘I think they’re hugging because it’s cold,’ says Hannah.
‘But mostly because love’, says Lucas.
We agree it is more to do with the love than the cold.
At 9.51pm, Jack (Huge Jackman) is behind the decks and a large group of us are singing along to what Lucas calls an ‘instrumental late 80s early 90s Georgio Moroder type beat’. It’s so fun when people try to sing along to instrumental music with their little ‘doo doo doos’.
Our enjoyment is at a high, but so is our hunger. We’re feeling satisfied by tonight’s cohesive offerings and it’s difficult to pull away, but the call of late night banh mi is growing stronger.
Hannah, Chris, Lucas and I depart, taking what would be a gorgeously serene night time stroll through the parklands if not for the interruptions of Chris and Lucas pissing on trees like dogs. Just like dogs, they observe the shrubbery as we pass it before finding a tree that is the right vibe. They both do joyful sprints to catch up with us after they’ve done their business.
The echoes of Contort Yourself are still reaching our ears from the distance. Lucas is in excellent spirits, so when we spot an expanse of dense fog stretching out across a field, he runs full pelt into it – and disappears. He’s yelling ‘can you see me? Can you see me?!’. We can’t see him. His enthusiasm is contagious and we join in, despite the bone-chilling cold and imminent risk of hypothermia. We run in circles and take selfies like the silly billies we are. The puns are slow to begin with, starting with ‘what the fog!’ and culminating in cries of ‘crazy fog’ (Hannah, Lucas) and ‘can you fogdrop me these pictures’ (me) and ‘okay stop with the jokes now, we’re fogging a dead horse’ (Hannah).
Whilst these final shenanigans were not technically a planned part of the event, it was still a crucial part of the evening – and testament to Contort Yourself’s achievement in bringing friends together to laugh, dance and get a little loose.
Words by Katy Chan Dyer (@ktychndyr)
Photos by Chris Love (@comatography)
