PARTY (verb) is an unmissable tale of Sydney’s queer scene from the late '70s to now. William Yang is a social documentary photographer, who photographed Sydney’s underground (and overground) queer nightlife. In the Opera House’s Playhouse, Yang weaves a present-historical web of the people and activities following the Mardi Gras’ inception, the rapture of house music, and the “sexy vibe” that accompanied radical self-expression and boundary-pushing queer culture.
The show begins with William Yang on stage in a bright red button-up, black bow-tie, and sparkly black waistcoat. His computer in front of him, he brings onto the projector screen (which is the focus of much of the night) the first photograph: a naked man.
“It was not until my mid-20s that I first had sex with a man,” Yang says.
From the audience retorts a lighthearted heckle from a woman: “Liar!”
The Playhouse erupts in laughter and applause. Yang waits with a coy smile dancing on his lips. When the laughter subsides, Yang replies: “I would know," to laughter and cheers again.
This is the energy of an audience reliving their pasts, and of an audience peering into a cultural phenomenon.
William Yang’s Nikon lens makes Lewis Carroll’s looking glass seem dull. The desirous, rebellious photographs of sex and sensuality, fun and freedom stoke the fire of a historically oppressed community. Through Rat parties, Lunaratic, and Sleaze Balls, Yang and his contemporaries (lovers and partiers alike) fought for recognition and roared flamboyantly in the face of their oppressors. DJs Stereogamus accompanied Yang, playing house anthems that transport the audience into the world of the photographs, into the chronicled parties.
Yang chronicles the impact of AIDS on the Sydney queer scene. Many of the characters we’re introduced to, we see perish. Reflecting on vigils held for those who passed, he says that they knew what it was like to be at war where many people died. Yang narrates seeing his friend Allen for the final time. Yang put his hand on top of Allen’s. Allen slowly lifted his own hand, and Yangs, up to the height of his chin. He then bent his head forward and rested it on the back of Yang’s hand. “It was a small gesture, but it shattered me.” Yang’s precise yet spare prose lets the images carry the action. In these pictures are hundreds of thousands of words – Yang doesn't need to be verbose. The passion of the culture might well be surmised in a line that branded me, “The desire for sex was greater than the fear of death.”
PARTY (verb) is a controlled yet vivacious retelling of crucially important stories of right here in Sydney. With never before seen negatives, it is better than a guided tour at the MCA and as emotional as a stunning play at STC. While it might not reach the heights of a warehouse party then or now, it also has a tangible undercurrent of 'party'. Yang says "I like a party with a sexy vibe," and through the ups and downs of queer Sydney over the last 50 years, he manages to cultivate a sexy, sexy vibe.
