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| GENESIS OF THE COMMUNITY DANCE Michael Gosney |
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The genesis of the Community Dance is an interesting and instructive
story. In years past, the rave scene at Burning Man was great, but the boomboomboom beat
got to people who resented the constant aural intrusion on their Burning Man experience,
so in 1995 the rave camps were moved out two miles from town. This physical separation of the multimedia techno dance camps was really cool in many ways, but there was a down side. In fact, in 1996, the second year for this arrangement, a serious bummer occurred. Although many people had bikes to traverse the two miles to rave central, many others walked, and many, unfortunately, drove cars, kicking up clouds of playa dust and keeping nerves on edge. And somebody who had too much alcohol (not a "raver" in fact), ran his car over a tent and the tent dweller's head, and this young man, a well-loved veteran of the SF rave community, survived this assault, but will never be the same. Now this sad event was of course widely trumpeted in certain press and ended up becoming the symbol of why Burning Man should not happen, according to certain of the Nevadan authorities. They had grown fearful of the festival, which that year had featured a tongue-in-cheek theme of "Helco," acted out in one of the weekend's theatric spectacles with a crafty devil, the captain of industry and commercial exploitation, trying his best to buy out Burning Man. It was really quite sensational when Burning Man founder Larry Harvey finally came to his senses and refused to sign the Devil's contract, and an angry procession carried the vanquished Chairman Lucifer to witness the scene as they set fire to Helco's company town of leading retail franchises. But of course, certain people took this to be our community's serious worship of the Evil Side, more proof that this was indeed the pagan festival they wanted to fear. |
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In Spring 1997, after being pressured by the powers that be in Nevada on the topic of the rave at Burning Man, which had become the new scapegoat for all that was wrong with the event, the official BM newsletter came out with the curious exhortation: NO RAVE AT BURNING MAN. This sent shockwaves around the world, as after the previous year's remarkable experience the international rave circles were starting to make their plans to intersect the '97 Labor Day desert fest. But no rave? What do you mean no rave! Burning Man was seen by many, the whole event, as the ultimate metarave. But to the Burning Man organizers, the rave scene had become a satellite event, kind of operating on its own, not really on the collaborative Burning Man bus. This irritation, along with the threats being made by the Bearers of the Permit, led to the anti-rave policy, which was only half-serious, but seen as a necessary gesture for the survival of the overall event. |
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So I was sharing a joint with Larry Harvey at the Anon Salon a week or two
later, and I confront him. "C'mon Larry, what's the deal with the rave
thing?"And I heard his explanations and accusations, but I could see it in his eye
and he more or less admitted that he wanted to figure out a solution. So I suggested a
meeting, I would bring some of my friends who were leaders in the techno circles and we
could talk it through and maybe come up with a way to fix this mess. C'mon Larry. He took
another drink, demured, wandered off. But I took this seriously, and so I pursued the
topic with Joegh Bullock (one of the main BM organizers, and also, along with Marcia
Crosby and Mark Petrakis, hosts the Anon Salon, SF's monthly cyberdelic speakeasy, and
long time collaborators on the Digital Be-In). Joegh was more understanding than Larry,
and Yahweh knows both these guys had more to worry about at this point trying just to pull
off Burning Man than dealing with disgruntled ravers. But I really made the case for the
growing importance of rave/techno culture, that it was quite beyond Burning Man, and that
Burning Man needed this new wave of creative energy and the spiritual values associated
with it. It had all already been evolving as an integrated scene, and this rift was just
not right. Joegh agreed and we set up a meeting at the Anon for the following week to talk
it through. I brought Peter and Adam of Ceiba, who I had befriended over the past year when they performed at the Be-In, and Sky, one of the main CCC folks, organizers of some of our favorite trance raves. The Burning Man crew had Joegh, Larry and Maid Marian, Mistress of Communication in attendance. Larry took the stage and declared that the rave community just came to Burning Man to do their own thing, and that would normally be cool, but for all these people to come out there and not experience the incredible variety of installations and people and events comprising the Burning Man Festival...it just bugged him. And he had been counting on a certain point man for the rave camps, to keep things somewhat under control and in touch with the Black Rock Rangers and so forth, and then he just dissappeared..."The center didn't hold!" Larry declared, adding dramatic effect by violently shoving three Coke cans off the table in front of him. |
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Well, Larry. We really just need to figure out a gesture, some way to save
face here. The discussion went round and round. Peter and Adam and Sky made their
observations. I wondered why we couldn't just produce a techno dance, do it on the main
stage, forget the term "rave," and thereby tip our hat to the scene and the
incredible new art form - the music - that so perfectly fit with Burning Man. Joegh picked
up on this and the idea took on some life. But which night? We couldn't risk being shut
down. The night of the Burn arose as the obvious solution. Hmmmm. What a wacky concept!
Maid Marian offered that she loved the idea of dancing after the Burn, we needed somewhere
to put all that energy. We discussed trance vs. a well-rounded slate of different styles.
No way. Psychedelic trance was the fitting vibe: a trance dance after the Burn. Yes! What
should we call it. Certainly not rave. How about Community Dance? That said it all. It was
a deal. So with less than two weeks to go, the Community Dance was planned, between Verbum and the CCC warehouse, and it was hard to get the troops inspired at the psychedelic compound, because they had already organized a fabulous event up on Mt. Shasta the weekend before Burning Man. But they came through, and the main attraction would be Goa Gil, one of the progenitors of Goa Trance, a fascinating figure originally from Marin County here and part of Chet Helms' Family Dog in the '60s, but since 1970 a resident of Goa, India, a well-studied holy man, and one amazing DJ. |
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With blacklights and day-glow mandalas and desert altars crafted by Dianna
Rawleigh and friends, the Community Dance was a life-touching event for all who attended.
The last-minute plan and its underground status kept the dance below the radar of most
Burning Man attendees, but the thousand-plus who came, down to 300 or so by dawn, were
enough to make the group mind sing. And what we heard in the aftermath was that those many raver types who did come to Burning Man, who were forced to camp right in Black Rock City, had, what do you know? - a wonderful time experiencing Burning Man in all its strange and endearing multitudinous splendor. |
| PLANNING THE 1998 VERSION With the great success in 1997, the Community
Dance is now to be an integrated part of the official program. This year it is going to be
big. Really big. Really cosmic. We had a meeting in July to nail down the details. The meeting included Joegh Bullock and the First Ladies of Burning Man: Harley, Theme Camp Queen, Crimson Rose, Creative Director/Fire Dance Goddess, and Maid Marian, Mistress of Communication. We also had Joseph Pred in attendance, chief of the Black Rock Medical Team, here to discuss the health and safety of our thousands of temporary desert dwellers, in particular the trance dancing demographic. We pretty much resolved our issues, and headed out for phase two of the meeting, a few blocks away at the CCC warehouse. The nondescript exterior gave way to the funky blacklight funhouse, the San Francisco node on the international psy-trance circuit, and home to 10 or 12 DJs, painters and all around groovy seekers living in one of the new style urban communes. We hung for a couple of hours and brainstormed. Getting the word out, and the vibe clear about this year was the main concern. We kicked around ways to encourage collaboration from the many intersecting tribes. Build an alien, or an altar. We would come up with a plan to let everyone contribute to the Community Dance environment. And we would put together something really transcendent come 11:00 pm Sunday September 6, 1998. |
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