I used to have a friend who took me here for a Halloween party that pulsed high to the rhythm of…read morefun. Yesterday, I went here again, not knowing I was going back to the Halloween stomping grounds I once monster mashed in. This visit was more fun as I felt like I had partied in a club nestled in the after-life word that Coco invited us to imagine because I attended El Velorio, here. El Velorio is a celebration of Mexican culture, specifically the art and step of Dia De Los Muertos.
I arrived 30 minutes early, to Quiet Cannon (where club Lit sits) and paid 20 dollars for parking. Once I entered, the club space was dead. There were a few people here and there, I bought the tickets, but did not really understood what I signed up for. I am the type of person who sees something advertise gets tickets and then sees how the night will go. I am open to opportunity and engage with chance when it comes.
A bit after the 7 the show began. The opening number was a dance by Aztec dancers, scored by a beating drum. The dancers were in full custom, feathers and all. Later in the evening, as I danced, I felt a caress on my neck that felt strange, not good nor bad. It felt like a tickle and slither, like a playful snake stretching on my neck to find its comfort spot. I turned and it was a black feather from a Calavera custom. My mind was arrested when I saw these performers dance. It was beautiful in a quiet way. I wanted to know what the dance called for? Saying that there dance called for rain would be reductive, but, I had no other thoughts to conclude. I hope that their dance called for something good that every person in Lit could carry for a better tomorrow.
After the Aztec dancers came an all girl Mariachi group. I did not get their names, I mean no disrespect, there was simply a lot going on. I am not a Mariachi fan, but this Mariachi group was innovative, not only because they were an all female ensemble but because they sang melodies I could recognize. Forever, I will carry the memory of an all female Mariachi group singing 'Girls Just Want to Have Fun' on a night where a party grooved to Mexican Culture, which now is also part of American Culture. One of the staff members of club lit supported the group by placing a microphone near the instrument of the musicians. Now the melody of the cello, could be heard better. It was a moment that made the night more magical because it was a human to human moment scored by classical notes.
After the Mariachi I viewed a small gallery of art. It had some standout pieces but on the whole the art gallery was a good attempt. There was this picture (that I clipped and can be found in the picture section) of young girl with flowing hair, the color of different shades of water. The moon was full and high above her. Her eyes were light blue, her dress translucent and light gray that was somehow also blue and also somehow the wind of the night wrapping her. The title of the piece was unfinished return. I felt like I saw the Llorona healed. Like she was no longer a spirit of pain, longing for her lost children. She was a spirit of rebirth that offered waters to wash pain away. So her lament turned into splashes of redemption. See her eyes and know the woe you carry become part of water, in its different forms, and for a moment know a pause from pain.
One of my favorite parts, of course, was La Catrinas. The women in Calavera paint, with hoop dressed that are full of theatrical flowers, and other macabre details that in sum make the woman look like she got a full makeover for her day of death. My favorite Catrina was the one that was dressed in a wedding dress that was in full black, with details, like a headpiece that showcased a studded skull. Her makeup was on point, it almost made me forget that I was looking at a human dressed appropriately for spectacle. I zoomed in on her makeup, when she was not looking, and, in my opinion, the resulting picture looks like a portrait. I view it and I feel a small chill, not because I am an artist but because I helped immortalize her efforts that spoke of hours of intricate makeup work.
After all the visual experiences, I began to danced. I felt great joy jiving to a nearly full dance floor full of people some dressed as Catrinas. At one point, the song 'Oye Mi Amor' blasted. And a Catrina in full garb and makeup danced on the stage, leading us in movement. We were not dong Zumba, but still we sweated, laughed and groove to the rhythm of Latin flavor. I could not help feel alive, and fully in the moment, which can be a a treasure for many who spend too much time in their heads.
This place offers substantial bump and grid, and spectacle. I would definitely return to this place, especially when it is associated to a theme night.
