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Live Review: Dark Mofo 2026

From being blown away by clipping. and Dry Cleaning to meditating on a four-tiered ziggurat assembled from men and tables, Dark Mofo commanded our full attention.

Winter Feast, Dark Mofo 2026
Winter Feast, Dark Mofo 2026(Credit: Rosie Hastie, Courtesy of Dark Mofo 2026)

Upon arrival at Hobart airport, we’re greeted by Dark Mofo’s “My Cold Embrace” slogan, illuminated in giant red font. Splashes of crimson light and neon red crosses beautify the Hobart waterfront, quite literally painting the town red for the duration of Tasmania/lutruwita’s midwinter solstice festival.

Festivalgoers are encouraged to switch off, discard preconceived notions, fully immerse themselves in the art, and meditate on life.

Dark Mofo’s programming habitually explores themes around birth, death and renewal. Here’s what floated our boat during Dark Mofo’s opening weekend:

clipping. (at 6.30 pm): “We need y’all to behave like this is that secret rave later tonight” 

It’s the final night of clipping.’s debut Australian tour. After reminding us “it’s 6.30 in the afternoon,” vocalist Daveed Diggs adds, “But we need y’all to behave like this is that secret rave later tonight, right?” Golden tonsils such as his could convince us to do just about anything (much like Oh Father, the character he plays in Season Five of The Boys). 

clipping. deal an electrifying study in dynamic contrast. Diggs whispers, “Baby, don’t sleep” – unaccompanied – then BOOM! We’re dropped into a rave cave, stomping along to industrial beats that sound like robots wrestling. Producers William Hutson and Jonathan Snipes tweak knobs behind what resemble giant fishing tackle boxes. Special guest Sharon Udoh, on keyboards and vocals, earns multiple standing Os throughout.

During the relentless Change The Channel, Diggs coaxes, “Listen closely, everything is very important,” and he don’t have to tell us twice! His percussive flow paints vivid dystopian pictures, words penetrating like the gunshots he’s rapping about.

Wriggle like a fish, girl/ Like a snake, girl/ Like a worm, girl/ Like an eel…” – punters enthusiastically comply, forcing Diggs to take a chuckle break. 

Diggs spits endless rhymes with no audible breaths. Is he circular breathing? Dodger showcases his virtuosic, rapid-fire rapping to perfection.  

Udoh’s beautifully sung refrains and delicate piano playing elevate Body For The Pile, which is underscored by staticky white noise and bombastic beats. Say The Name closes with a wink and a nod as Udoh croons a chorus of Say My Name by Destiny’s Child

The three primary members momentarily leave the stage to spotlight Udoh. We receive the gift of Long Way Away, a clipping. gospel ballad. The crowd goes apeshit (standing O numero uno). As the band returns to the stage, Diggs extols, “She’s that fucking good!” while Udoh mops up her tears.

Diggs feeds us lyrics during Keep Pushing – “However hard it’s been” [we repeat it back]/ Get up and push again [our turn]” – and we find full voice, singing surprisingly tunefully as one. 

On the standout Shooter, Diggs shows off his Tony Award-winning actor chops (he originated the dual roles of Marquis de Lafayette and Thomas Jefferson in Hamilton). His delivery of every single syllable is carefully considered and mastered. Perfect enunciation makes following clipping.’s narrative-based storytelling – often about street-level crime – a cinch. 

clipping. return to the stage for a genuine encore – a rarity at Dark Mofo. “No radio station in the US plays our music,” Diggs points out before acknowledging triple j added 2014’s Work Work to rotation. We’re then treated to a condensed version of this belter to close. 

During their set, Diggs shared that Dark Mofo reached out to Snipes about booking another of his bands, Captain Ahab, 13 years ago. Snipes pitched clipping., but was told the festival had already locked in a rapper for that year’s lineup. 

Here’s hoping Australian promoters are already scrambling to lock in a clipping. tour for next year. Consider us front and centre, pressed against the barrier, every chance we get to experience clipping. live from hereon in. 

Dry Cleaning morph into a completely different beast live 

An old-school painted backdrop of Dry Cleaning’s Secret Love album art decorates the Odeon stage’s back wall. Painted by the Scotland-based Canadian artist Erica Eyres, this artwork depicts the band’s vocalist/poet, Florence Shaw, copping an eye wash. Someone out of frame’s giant fingers prise one of Shaw’s eyes open, and although first aid is clearly being administered here, the image still makes our eyes water. 

Shaw is a picture of serenity at the heart of the band’s intoxicating sonic tempest. Although Dry Cleaning’s song tempos are typically quite unhurried, Shaw’s bandmates bring a riotous vibe to proceedings, each rocking out in their own distinct, authentic way. 

Bassist Lewis Maynard’s groovy dancing regularly pulls focus. He swivels his heels rhythmically, from left to right, sometimes shimmying around in a circle on one leg like a raving stork. During Her Hippo, he head-bangs so wildly we’re surprised his Willie Nelson braids remain somewhat intact. 

Touring multi-instrumentalist Josh Eggerton mostly performs in profile, lunging forward, leaning into his keyboard and slapping the keys like they’re bongos on occasion. 

Twinkle-toed guitarist Tom Dowse – master of the Axl Rose snake dance – is a bundle of explosive energy. After explaining that tonight marks the last night of a lengthy world tour for Dry Cleaning, Dowse introduces his bandmates individually, much to their delight. Embodying a WWE ring entrance announcer (eg, drummer Nick Buxton is introed as a “beat sniper”), Dowse concludes this segment with, “We’re Dry Cleaning, let’s fuckin’ ‘ave iiiiiiit!” which makes Shaw guffaw. 

A small Australian Aboriginal flag pin decorates Shaw’s baggy T-shirt, with barrel jeans and black ballet flats completing her comfy stage look. Face flanked by lush, chestnut tresses and eyes rolled back in her head, Shaw delivers poignant lines in trademark lackadaisical fashion. It’s fascinating to watch her getting into character – through gestures and facial expressions – before each song. 

Buxton switches to sax for Anna Calls From The Arctic. “It’s time for a slash of evil” – nice segue, Dowse! The creeping Evil Evil Idiot follows.  

Set closer Hit My Head All Day – with its panting vocal percussion, strutting bassline and wailing guitars – delights: “When I was a child I wanted to be a horse/ Eating onions, carrots, celery…”.

We’re spellbound from start to finish, captivated by Shaw’s observational wordsmithery and sharp wit. These South London art-rockers sound brilliant on record, but in the flesh, they morph into a completely different beast. Melodic hooks and lyrical phrases stick like glue, resurfacing sporadically to this day.   

Stasis: a four-tier wedding cake assembled from men and tables 

As soon as we read about this performance art piece by Belgian artist Ruben Bellinkx, during which 32 men support a wooden dining table using only their teeth, we bookmark it as a priority.

In the Hobart City Hall foyer, spectators are briefed on the rules – phones off, no talking – before entering the hall proper. A toddler fusses behind us, and we sincerely hope the lack of absolute silence doesn’t cause a toppling tragedy. 

One table would’ve been impressive enough, right? Well, it’s actually a multi-layered ziggurat structure (yep, we had to Google that word, too) composed of 32 blokes and four tables (think: a four-tier wedding cake)! Twelve evenly dispersed men hold up one table, on top of which ten more stand supporting a slightly smaller table, on which another six men hold their table using only their gnashers. The top layer sees a square table supported by four guys. 

Spectators are encouraged to walk freely between the floor level and the balcony, provided they stay behind the ropes. Eyeballing the phenomenon from different angles is recommended. If one of the participants needs to cough, they momentarily support the table with both hands (this happens twice during our session). The sound of everyone’s shuffling feet is pretty constant.

We notice how often we fidget, which makes the motionlessness of the participants all the more impressive. 

The performance runs for 30 minutes, during which the lights gradually dim to almost-darkness. An audience plant gets the applause going to signal time’s up. The half hour flies by.  

Fun fact: Dark Mofo actively recruited 75 men over 50 to participate in Stasis.

Winter Feast: “What’s a Muffeletta?” 

Winter Feast is not just a foodie heaven celebrating the freshest seasonal Tasmanian produce; it’s also Dark Mofo’s most Instagrammable annual event. Positioned on Hobart’s stunning waterfront at Princes Wharf 1, it’s a gothic-themed gastronomic wonderland. 

The smell of smoke emanating from randomly placed firepits permeates our winter woollies as we reawaken a passion for hot toddies. 

Inside, endless rows of benches are decorated with an abundance of evenly dispersed tea lights and regular candles. More illuminated red/white crosses than you can count hang haphazardly from the ceiling.  

Into bland food? You’re outta luck. Spiced Tasmanian wallaby shish kebabs, slow-cooked and smoked wild goat leg and shoulder, potato cakes topped with smoked caviar, deconstructed s’mores with marshmallows (to roast yourself in one of the open firepits), and Huan pink apple scones and beef bourguignon doughnuts are all on the menu.    

“What’s a Muffeletta?” we hear a kid ask an adult. Answer: A type of Sicilian sandwich.

Need something to wash it all down? How about some vin blanc chaud saffron-infused French mulled wine, hot mulled absinthe or warm apple cider with butter cream? 

Ogoh-Ogoh: The Purging  

This year’s Ogoh-Ogoh, crafted by Balinese artists, was modelled on the critically endangered Tasmanian Pedra Branca skink. During the Purging phase, Dark Park attendees are encouraged to commit their fears and regrets to paper before inserting their confessions into the Ogoh-Ogoh’s belly slots.

We observe kids pressing a Sharpie to paper, deep in thought with furrowed brows. The lady on Sharpie watch, who’s also distributing pre-cut paper squares, jokes, “If you don’t have any fears or regrets, you can borrow some of mine.”    

After The Procession to the Regatta Grounds – which commences at 7 pm next Sunday night – this giant, skink-shaped Ogoh-Ogoh will be set alight in a communal bonfire for The Burning phase. While poking our regrets into a slot, we make a mental note to check in with our headspace once this purification ritual is complete – around 9 pm, maybe.

Spirit of Tasmania: a floating art gallery 

For the first time this year, a brand new 48,000-tonne Spirit Of Tasmania V ferry is moored alongside Dark Park and repurposed as a floating art gallery. Exhibited within are light-based works (including Chunxiao Qu’s There’s Nothing Left To Pray For), Lolo & Sosaku’s kinetic robot dogs (Perros Chaos) – whose scraping and clanging is magnified by the metal interior of the Spirit's lower decks – and harrowing large-scale videos. 

Berna Reale’s performance video, Palomo, features the Brazilian visual artist, muzzled, sporting a police uniform and patrolling the eerily empty streets of Belém on horseback. The white horse, after which this video is named, is painted a striking blood-red. This foreboding piece is accompanied by the rhythmic clip-clopping of Palomo’s hooves echoing on cobblestones.

Black Star vinyl bar FTW

If you’re attending back-to-back shows at the Odeon and also wanna queue to get a decent position for your second show, we thoroughly recommend you duck into Black Star vinyl bar. Comfy velvet couches, wood-panelled walls, artisanal cocktails (we enjoyed a dirty vodka martini, served in divine glassware and garnished with an olive on a fancy skewer), service with a smile, and excellent acoustics provide an ideal haven for gig debriefing. Furthermore, you won’t have to shout directly into your mate’s earhole in order to be heard.      

Teens are clearly going places 

Nipaluna’s own Teens impressed us last Dark Mofo when they opened for The Peep Tempel at Altar Bar, so we’re thrilled to stumble upon them entertaining the masses on the MONA lawns.  

The trio – composed of vocalist/guitarist Shawn Arnold, vocalist/bassist Jono Tate and drummer Alex Davern – favour high-slung axes and tight riffs offset by crashing, cymbal-heavy drumming. Arnold and Tate often face one another like they’re duelling – egging each other on.

During a brief, mid-song pause, an intrepid sparrow touches down near the front of the stage, before abruptly taking off the millisecond Teens resume.

A dude, seated front and centre, unselfconsciously surrenders to their brilliance throughout, approaching the band post-set to give them props. 

Teens were handpicked to support Fooeys in Sydney (alongside The Belair Lip Bombs) and will also be heading up to Brisbane for BIGSOUND later this year. They’re clearly going places. 

Going to The Dogs 

A photograph of Abdul-Rahman Abdullah’s work, The Dogs, lures us across the Derwent River to Rosny Barn – we simply must see this installation in the flesh! 

Three snarling black dogs are suspended – frozen in hot pursuit – under three rows of glistening chandeliers, which represent aspirational spaces worth protecting. The detail in the dogs’ coats is astounding. We’ve read that Muslims believe black dogs to be representatives of Shaytan, the embodiment of evil. 

Abdullah draws from vivid childhood memories of being chased by guard dogs. Primarily, this piece reflects on exploiting the predatory instincts of dogs to serve human masters. 

Dark Mofo’s aesthetic

Black and crimson is a killer colour palette at the best of times. Right down to the staff uniforms, Dark Mofo doesn't put a foot wrong, aesthetically.

Even little backstreet shops get in on the action, incorporating at least a few red balloons into their window displays.

Hand-knitted black fingerless mitts – with a large red cross embroidered on the back of each hand – catch our eye at one of the Brooke Street Pier market stalls. 

There’s a sense of community and genuine pride amongst Hobartians during Dark Mofo. And although us fly-ins are prone to doing their heads in, the locals thankfully don’t let on that we're annoying.