On a very late Saturday night, the Congress Theatre became the love child of a European discothèque and a late-nineties warehouse rave when it hosted DJs Paul Van Dyk and Benny Bennasi. Glow sticks, high heels, hairspray that melted in the muggy arena, as well as a diverse international crowd welcomed the German and Italian house sensations to Chicago. A block long line persisted from the moment the doors opened until late into the night. The scene outside was almost as hectic as the party inside, with security staff patting down girls wearing little more than a tube top and panties in preparation for the sauna inside, police sirens materialized on regular intervals, and party kids were kicked out for smoking in the concert, still leaning on the doors with the hope of sneaking back in.
|
| |
Paul van Dyk and Benny Bennasi
|
 Entertainment
 Art
The Congress Theater
Chicago, IL
June 20, 2009
|
| |
|
The front hall was strewn with fliers, exhausted bodies and stray glitter glasses, glitter boots, glitter mini skirts. Entirely underdressed for the madness, and overdressed for the heat, I was pushed through the crowd by a nauseous-looking girl. Everyone buzzed with excitement, sweated the ecstasy, and a few eyes rolled back to the pulse of the beat. Some breakers threw down on the main floor. A man who was wearing women’s red short shorts from American Apparel (I know, I have the same pair) gyrated madly, impossibly, on a podium, seemingly unaffected by heat that felt like water in my lungs.
Fog spewed on either side of the stage to introduce Milan native Benny Bennasi, internationally renown DJ since 2003. His innovative mixing and racy themes made for a bumpin’ set, I can tell because my eyes were glued to the pulsing of hundreds of hands in the air. A good DJ is a crowd puppeteer, and every one of Bennasi’s beats echoed in the bodies spraying sweat on me. At times his transitions slowed to a crawl, but once the pace picked up again, the entire concert hall broke out in frenzied jerks and bobs and waves and stomps.
Paul van Dyk lived up to the confetti that introduced him, and the wait was over. Instead of winding the party down after five hours of dancing, the heavily decorated sensation brought the atmosphere to new peaks. Transitioning seamlessly from hits that spanned his fifteen year career, van Dyk kept the energy up. The atmosphere was well designed to be naturally mind altering, and you couldn’t stand on the main floor for more than five minutes before your body began to twitch to the music.
When I wandered into the madness of the hallway, the main topic that floated around the sweat soaked folk was the fact that it’s a shame there aren’t more parties like this in the city.
Though I like to keep faith in the ambiance of this dirty, gritty pulsing city, I have to say it’s true: I’ve never seen Chicago dance like that.
Powered by AkoComment 2.0!
