Oh baby. Oh yes. OH-IM-NOT-INTO-FETISHES-OR-  W  E  I  R  D  - S E X - STUFF-BUT-OH-BABY-OH-YES-COME-TAKE-ME-TO-HEAVEN-AND-SPIT-ME-OUT-AS-MAN. a h e m.

She's back!!! The dark gauntlet, the mistress on the lake, the fire in the tundra… The one and only Dark Mofo festival has dawned upon us for another year and its time to get a little weird…

For those who don't know, Dark Mofo began as a sister winter festival to the MONA run MONA FOMA festival. Taking over Hobart for two weeks in the lead up to the Winter Solstice, this festival offers music, art, film, food… life (!) as you've never experienced it before. It aims and strives to provide a unique experience and does not aim to disappoint. 

Arriving following the opening weekend of the festival, touching down in Hobart things feel a little different from years past. The festival on paper seems to be a tad scaled down in comparison to years past, lacking a major music headliner (spots truly earned by Antony and the Johnsons and Diamanda Galas) nor a major MONA exhibit launching during the festival and this year also sees no major art piece immersing the city such as the lighting exhibitions in years past. 

Opening the Dark Mofo program does slightly put this year into a little prospective. For pages there is only dark portrait photographs of desolate landscapes and buildings with no words and the information to the festival is just listed in bold white print lettering on black paper. This year is about subtly. Once you enter any venue at this years festival; you are reminded, that yes, you are at Dark Mofo. Whether she'll embrace you with love or break your heart doesn't matter as she is gonna do both. 

Due to the nature of this event it is impossible to cover it all of what happens as everyones experience will differ. This article is only a personal account of what happened.      

My first lick of the dark popsicle is down at MAC 1 where this year a new crafted space known as Black Box makes its debut. Having already played home to a series of loud events already, tonight may see it's peak. Entitled Ephemera Live (meaning things that exist or are used or enjoyed for only a short time) it is a collaborative performance by acclaimed Canadian experimental producer Tim Hecker, visual artist Marcel Weber and even the scents of conceptual perfumer Geza Schoen. The room is massive and blanketed in fog. There is no stage and single run lights are placed periodically around the perimeter of the room. The audience make their way into the room and awkwardly position themselves from the middle of the room like cattle in a yard. There is a sense of unease and lack of direction amongst us and the performance begins with no real defined commencement. Light atmospheric music plays and subtle changes to the lights are made. It is when Hecker comes in with a few bone-crushing feedback driven bursts that we are made aware that yes, the show has begun. 

It is hard with no stage for the audience to make sense of it all. Assorted groups deal with it in assorted ways from talking, walking around the room or just making themselves comfy on the floor in an attempt to take it all in and feel comfortable with the environment. All of which do somewhat ruin the isolation of the experience. The subtle moments are met with distraction as a result of those unfamiliar with the works of Hecker and it feels as if (wether it be a result of the low ticket cost or central location) that a number of people are unaware of both the artists intentions and the depth of the intended experience. A number of people leave before the conclusion of the show. 

Gripes aside, when you get lost here, it is hard to come back. The production values alone are a thing that anyone with a tech mind could get lost for days in. But the overall presentation and some key cuts from Hecker's Virgins making an appearance make this a great beginning to my own week but a defining and classic Dark Mofo moment. There are some grumblings outside that the volume level was easier on the ears in comparison to past Hecker performances, but, this show had me coming close to the socially groanable ear plugs for the first time since my Sunn O))) debut the previous Darky.

With no time to gabber about, rushing across town to the Odeon Theatre, it is time for Hymns to the Dead. Unofficially titled 'Wednesday metal night' by Darky punters past, the turn out is not one that you'd see at the likes of Soundwave or the like. Here we are met by a passionate, pure metal fanbase whom have turned out in anxious droves for tonights cast of assorted dark characters, of whom could only make their Australian appearances here at/thanks to Dark Mofo. 

Unfortunately missing opener Inverloch due to overlapping, I am greeted by Greek  death metal act Dead Congregation whom offer a classic death metal performance. They're typically loud and confronting and all of their tracks favour the higher end of the BPM spectrum. Space and drone aren't obviously the groups backbone in crafting their sound and while executed masterfully for their style, it would have been nice to see overall a little bit more variety in presentation. Swedish act Tribulation follow and while dubbed as 'progressive black metal' the band clearly draw influence from the hair band days established by the likes of Twisted Sister and countless others of years past. At times the schtick of their performance with the classic riffage and junkie glam chic gets a little tiring and it feels that enjoyment from some of the audience is coming from a place of irony, still they hold their own and are met with a overwhelmingly positive response as they leave the stage. 

Taking their time to get to stage - partially due to an extensive candle lighting procedure. From the Czech Republic, Cult of Fire bring the Hymns to a close with debatably the darkest and heaviest offering of tunes of the night. Wearing ritualistic style regalia and sporting props are plenty, the band feel authentic in their presentation and musically are defined with their low rumble drones and classic dual guitar attacks underneath vocalist 'Devilish''s agonising growls in his native tongue. At one point a small fire breaks out in one of the goblets (?) on one of the candle tables and following it being put out, the room strangely smells of a certain type of plant (occasionally smelt at gigs {of seemingly all genres} periodically) but hey taking it all in, the final conclusion of the set is both mind consuming and equally, a little relaxing. 

Across from the Odeon, long standing local venue The Grand Poobah opens its doors and houses those thrust out onto the street wanting to regale in times had over a fine brew. Theres a few DJ's, beers, and that soul/time consuming piano in the front room all somewhat trivialised with the sunlight cracking down on you upon leaving. It wont be the first time this occurs this week. 

Thursday night seems criminally bare when looking at the bill from a music prospective with seemingly zero major events on (apart from the secretive masquerade ball known this year as The Funeral {hosted at a working funeral parlour and not talked about by those whom attended in typical fashion to similar style events in years past})But it does offer a chance to wonder down to the fabled Winter Feast. This year booze seems to have made more of a imprint than food as local and far companies have set up shop offering their wares. The dining hall looks as spectacular as ever and the entertainment is broad and deep including performances over its five day duration by Brisbane locals The Scrapes and The Gin Club among many many others. 

I grab a salted caramel milk shake, a sticky pork boa and a couple of local gourmet  macaroons for my gluten intolerant mother and call it an easy one via a trip out to Geeveston. Side note - if you want a good horse drawn carriage ride… Why not hit up Heritage Carriages next time you're in town. $1 off with copies of this article. We've been blessed.  

It's Friday night and with it comes a full dance card. Kicking off affairs for the evening is one of this years drawcard events, Chelsea Wolfe, coupled with a notable support roster in tow. Arriving to the final moments of Brooklyn avant-garde composer JG Thirlwell whose set tonight is presented as Cholera Nocebo. It is brash and fits in with his described reputation. Debatably the true headliner of the night, past Swans/Neurosis collaborator and insanely talented songstress in her own right, Jarboe takes the stage with an acoustic guitar player as accompaniment and haunting silkscreens as a backdrop. Though a drawcard, the audience becomes relatively disengaged as the set progresses and begins to chatter over what should be an intimate performance. Jarboe's vocal performance is amazingly on point but the performance does lack - at times - engagement and by the time she leaves the stage, we are left wanting more in a bad way as it feels as if we should have gotten a little more out of her short time onstage. 

Chelsea Wolfe is noted for having a passionate and dedicated fanbase and for tonights AUS exclusive, her fans have come out in droves. Taking the stage with a full band and definitely favouring the 'rock' side of her catalogue, her set fails to reach any memorable peaks to those outside of her fandom. Overall the set feels like it lacks any real variation and each piece feels like it falls back upon the same structure to the point where it feels like you have heard the same chord progression and lyrical hook before. Her band (despite looking like they have been rounded up from the local Allans Billy-Hyde X disaster) feel as if they outshine Wolfe at every turn with their nerd chops and while the stage show - considering what Dark Mofo offers their performers - looks and sounds bland. There are highlights including opening cuts such as Demons and Carrion Flowers but unless you're passionate about Wolfe, there isn't much here for you considering the rest of the program. 

Having already the week before with its 2016 debut (featuring the likes of Blanck Mass and Habits) turned the innocent into alcohol/lollie swilling heathens, Blacklist is back! It feels this year that more focus is placed upon this wildly popular and notorious event by the festival and with that some of the mystery has been removed, partially due to the early unveiling of the artists involved as opposed to last year where they remained anonymous (unless you kept an ear out). 

The town hall is completely decked out with red things hanging from the ceiling and something weird visible in any which way you turn your head. In comparison to last years debut the stage has been shifted and there is noticeably less art installations outside (bring back the Kombi smoking van!). But there are delights such as the converted auto-body shop which acts as a venue within the venue to bands and DJ's away from the main stage and even a bloody slippery dip (which I am sure would have to be hosed down at the end of the night).

A drink here, a wander here, a chat there and a drink over there… As with all good Blacky's, it all can turn into a blur quite quickly… But memories stick and perhaps what can be also dubbed as festival highlight, Itchy O take over the whole venue and simply mystify the audience. All the way from Denver Colorado and making their debut on our shores, this 30+ piece avant-garde/experimental/electronic/tribal troupe do not let up the entire time and the audience lap it up. About a third of the members remain on the mainstage pounding taiko's and doing bad things to guitars while another third on a smaller stage set up in the crowd directly opposing the main stage smash assorted pieces of percussion, while the final third are 'free range' wandering through the audience as either Chinese lion dancers, on converted sound-system bikes or just have PA speakers strapped to their backs with delay pedals providing feedback and assorted noises. The musicianship is simply top notch and consistently demands attention which becomes a welcome yet,  gruelling task for their extensive set. But in the end, these black bodysuited demons of delight very much make their mark on all those who bore witness.

After nearly losing half a drink to the slide, it is with little delay that our next 'act' takes the stage. The word on the street that tonight is Prince night and that all in attendance should dress up and get ready to get down. With endless dancers onstage, a sole DJ smashes out - for close to two hours - Prince bangers  both known and obscure delights. When it all comes to a close, despite having a brain cell count remaining close to the number of fingers one has and shoes who dancing soles are truly worn out. Its back to the Poobah till 7am. Cant even remember who played or what happened during that time… But it was good. Yeah? Yeah!  

PART TWO COMING SOON

Feat. Eddy Current Supression Ring, Grimoire, Dark Park, The Burning, Heart of Darkness, Just Step S'ways and much more.

Bradley Armstrong