Watching a fanciful zombie movie can be a lot of fun. Watching it in a packed cinema, surrounded by actual zombies at 5am amplifies the experience significantly.
This was White Night. Originally conceived in Paris in 2002, in an attempt to make art and culture accessible to large audiences, within public spaces.
My journey to the all night arts event, now being staged in the oft-maligned city centre of Melbourne was cautious.
In recent years the city has developed an unsavoury reputation in the press as a den of inequity and violence. I couldn’t help but wonder what a large public event cast over the zenith of alcohol related violence on a Saturday night might bring.
My arrival saw me greeted by crowds of New Years past bottlenecking Flinders Street like peak hour traffic despite the clock ticking past 2am.
I’d deliberately arrived late to see what the event would offer after crowds had dissipated and if the event had enough steam to go the distance.
A reveller atop a traffic light seeking a better view of The Cat Empire’s 2am set, didn’t comfort me. The slightly frantic crush around Young and Jacksons was intense starting to sway a little towards seminal.
Imagine my wry bemusement when the self-policing crowd called to attention the performance of a harpist in the reading room of the State Library a short detour later.
The green lamped crowd were truly dwarfed by the dome now astral lit by projections that were the feature of White Night’s debut.
The onlookers were conflicted on behaviour; the more wide-eyed visitors buzzed along excitedly while others shushed like schoolmarms, unsure of what was now appropriate.
As 3am came and went, the events patrons’ lurched through the streets as time took its toll. The march of the zombies was on.
The fatigue of patrons determined to push towards the ultimate installation, a 7am sing-a-long on Princess Bridge, was clear. Other than displaying weariness, the crowd behaviour was exceptional. Despite my initial fears, police reported no major incidents.
Despite traditionally conceding spectacular views to Sydney, Melbourne allowed itself to dazzle by the river it is set upon. The projections from Birrarung Marr illuminated the Yarra as viewing from the Eureka Skydeck was offered all night at a discounted rate.
The zombies scattered over Flinders street moved slowly from Hiatus Kaiyote’s 4am performance. ‘We are from Melbourne’ lead singer Nai Palm announced proudly as a smaller crowd took in their sound lauded by international legends Questlove and Erykah Badu.
Afterwards, a quick investigation of ACMI led me to the side-splitting screening of 101 Zombie Kills. The screening provided homage to the ridiculousness of the genre and indulged Melburnians penchant for the macabre.
The full pre-dawn session answered my curiosity. White Night could go the distance.
Indeed, the chaotic staging of an all night arts event provides its own ghoulish allure. The seemingly vast zombie population of Melbourne attested this as I entered St. Pauls Cathedral at 5.30am.
The living dead had spoken, the crowd was still strong late into the night.
After lots of talk, Melbourne had walked the walk. Even the title installation on Princess bridge was open to re-invention as graphic artists adorned it with new meaning well into the night.
The grey facades of the city were now alive with projections heeled by street performers, musicians and a fascinated and engaged new audience.
The zombies had broken the sacred silence of the library and busted open a whole new world of possibilities.
Dan Toomey is a Master of Global Communication student and the curator of youlikesomeone. He makes great martinis but is a lousy chef. Follow him on twitter @dan_tooms.
