Deep Blue

The invitation specified two rules; no illegal drugs and use of mobile phones was forbidden. It was a Saturday night in October and I was going to the first Deep Blue party in Dublin. My fellow invitees gathered outside Penney’s on O'Connell Street. We were collected by a hired bus, to be brought to an undisclosed location. Each of us had paid €30 for this uncertain pleasure.As we drove north of the city we speculated where our mystery bus ride would bring us. The Botanic Gardens? Finglas Observatory? An Airport hanger? I never would have guessed that the venue for our party would be Glasnevin Crematorium.On entering the church we were welcomed by Deep Blue, a Belfast based association of artist's, musicians, DJs, poets, writers, photographers and performance artists. The room was dimly lit and a recorded voice repeatedly asked what I was already wondering: What am I doing here?It was eerie. A person had been cremated there the day of the party. Most probably, there would be another cremation in the morning.Everyone commented on this, as if by acknowledging this we would be relieved from the sense of guilt.At the furnace there was a free champagne bar. Why not, I suppose? Soap was laid out around the circumference of the altar where two chairs faced each other. Visuals were projected on to the arched ceiling. I had no idea what was going to happen?The anticipation and wonder added to the excitement and seemed to dispel feelings of discomfort. There was also grandiose feel to the party as we sipped on our champagne, listening to opera in this beautiful spacious old building. This was, after all, one of those events that can truly be called unique.There were performances artists, but they were not focal points. They blended in, adding another curious dimension to the night. After a while it was accepted as normal that a girl was standing still on the altar holding a painting in front of her face for an hour. Another lady got the soap and a bowl of water and washed the doors of the church, which she has previously covered with jam.A girl dressed in a black and white corset appeared and got the attention of the room. She also sported a clear plastic cone around her neck, which amplified the sounds she made. Then she manipulated her voice, making bird-like purring sounds which got louder and louder. I sat dumbstruck, trying to figure out what it was all about.Deep Blue has a policy of not promoting dancing as the exclusive element of clubbing. Each party is at a different venue, and it frequently changes the types of music and visual entertainment. The only constant in Deep Blue is the free champagne bar provided by its sponsors, Lanson Champagne of Belfast, and Piper-Heidseick Champagne of Dublin.Previous venues include Belfast Zoo, a sewage works, an aquarium, a railway station and a gallery. It has also preformed in New York and Barcelona.
Many of the invitees had come alone, and some were of the 30 - 40 years age group. One guy had travelled alone from Liverpool for the event. People had expected a gathering of at least 100 people and were surprised that the group numbered only 40.
There was an eclectic mix of music. Swing, classical, jazz, opera and rock were all played. A lone saxophone player walked around playing moody jazz. Two musicians banged out some techno beats on their synthesizers, accompanied by a keyboard and their friend who was ten feet up on scaffolding playing a hand held keyboard.This heightened the revellers energy levels. As we danced on the altar we joked about excommunication and our journey to hell. A friend, Jeremey, took the microphone for a freestyling MC session and he ingeniously improvised to the techno.The Gypsy Kings were the wind down music. Our bus was there to bring us back to the reality we had just escaped from. I left happy and satisfied wondering when the next party would be. They set out to entice, bemuse, and amuse and this they did.