Review: Sisyphos Festival, 18.05.2011

Techno Deluge  

At Sisyphos there is plenty to look at: fleshy drapes; giant glittering baubles; trellis towers; doll's heads; motion-sensitive light sprays in the halls.  Passing by crowds of people bedecked by all the above trappings in the outdoor yard, I head to the dark inside. The first room that I blunder into is saloon bar full of dancing lights, wafting ribbons, swaying bodies. Beneath the deco, I see the black ribs of a warehouse jutting in the dark like the backstage area of a theatrical set.

Later, my friends and I search out a spot nearer to the techno that's booming down the hall from the Hammahalle.  We find a second room where our personal sphere is reduced to a crawl-space. The unyielding mass of people drawn towards its sweaty beat turn this cavern into a human labyrinth.  Normally that's the sort of vibe we go in for... but it feels off in here, somehow. It's oversubscribed, this word of mouth location.

We're pushed back and forth through each cavern by waves of newcomers who beat paths through and around us, trying to get wherever we are going, before we get there.

I try to go with the flow and end up being pressed into a dead end corner of the largest room. Separated from friends, resigned to just keeping out of everybody's way, I start to dance.  My eyes adjust and as they do, the walls become more solid behind the gaudy lights. The scenery sets like cement and the ethereal decor takes on a weighty permanence. Special effects aside, the crowd here is just like any other place in the city; the Ku'damm on a Saturday, or a train station maybe...

In clubs like this is hard to remember that, once upon a time, dancing in a packed room full of strangers wasn't all about getting someplace, it was about being there. That techno parties were a different universe, with a different set of rules, not just a darker, less restrictive version of the dog-eat-dog reality outside.

Plenty of people here who are ten, fifteen years younger than me are wearing H&M 'rave revival' fashion without the faintest trace of a smile on their faces. As if unlearning boundaries doesn't take an actual effort... beyond buying something. Why waste time with trial and error when you can just push someone else out of your way?

Because it only works as long as you keep pushing, that's why. And eventually, someone bigger comes along and pushes you back: a property investor, maybe, or a draconian government, and you lose it all to the same mentality you helped create.  The fact that the only smiley faces in this room are on a disposable, 5 Euro t-shirt made in a sweat shop seems like a kind of testament to all that's changed in the past seven years of rave.



I reflect on the fact that any techno party that can't generate real empathy is like a parent that can't have any kids.  The bloodline is completely broken between one generation and the next.

But hey, there's always the next time around...

2019 - Remembering this party, I recall that I liked the club but the people - not so much! A lot has changed since then. In my opinion, Sisy still has the style but its substance has improved a lot. It's worth a visit... if you can stand the wait in the line!