fitzroy town hall reopening celebration

When I arrived at Fitzory town hall, the celebration had been on.

It was a lovely day, just warm and nice. CBD was so quiet that you would doubt that where the crowds in trains (just as sardine in tins) during weekdays were. The quiet city let me feel unaccustomed, as seeing a pale person lack of viability, the viability brought by blood steams. However, the silence just fit Fitzory town. One or two persons were walking along the lanes (I asked two men for the way to the town hall. They were rambling around, pushing a baby carriage. They looked so serene and satisfied, just like a couple), having coffee under the sun. Little delicate red petals smoothed out at the green lace fences of a window. Far away, bougainvillea forced a big piece of magenta and dark green (but shining like oil) on the wall. All these produced an illusion of being in a quiet European town, maybe Spanish, maybe Italian.

I was glad the official welcome was not long. Probably because I was late, and they provided nice pizza and some sweet pastry as free lunch, which drew my most attention. Ennnnnnnnn, really beautiful, particularly the pastry with pretty purple berry. Although the hot chocolate was not as wonderful as we enjoyed in the café in the block, as free chocolate, it was acceptable, I should say.
At a leisurely pace I visited the whole town hall. It combines the traditional and modern architectural styles. It is said that the carpet has a long history of one or two hundred years. Light golden grounding, orange, scarlet, crimson and brown figures, the decent and mandarin pattern in the pattern sets off the splendor of this old town hall, giving it a bright sense. Not to mention the huge mirrors shinning under the light of many chandeliers. The whole hall just looks like a small court.

But when you take the lift, you will find the modern side of this house. A very pithy and practical lift, made from glass and metal. When it is up or down, you can see its internal structure through the transparent glass, as seeing one’s internal organs from his inside. That is an indifferent sense of watching a dissection.

Outside the town hall, a part of Napier Street was around by a warning line, which sent a message that very soon many performances would take place here. Sure enough, a piece of fantastic music drew me out of the hall.

The performance was called three belles. Three belles were wearing purple-read farthingales. Three belles were going to a ball. Like in Mary Antoinette’s last party, they indulge their wishes and let themselves floating in the sea of music, wines and endless desires. They danced with various music, from light shot steps to elegant long slippages, one dance followed another. At the beginning, the music was traditional classic dance. Women grasped the break during dances to talk about all sorts of ridiculous gossips. However, gradually, the music changed. It sounded from the enchanted mountains which were far far away. It was the whistle from those rich woods and deep vales, twisted by a marvelous wind. It was Siren’s song, with the bubbles from the deep bottoms of the ocean, with the fogs above the waving surface of the sea. Everyone fell into a strange dizziness. Like trapped in a strange dream.

All these, were occurring in the air. No, I did not mean ‘outside’. What I meant was literal, IN THE AIR.

That is the charm of the performance. Its light point. All the reinless movements were completed on the elevated and elastic poles, with which, the actresses danced like lightsome flowers in the breeze.

However, they looked like monkeys at the moment of taking off farthingales and sliding down along the poles. Elegant French ladies disappeared within a second.

This just is the truth of this world. The truth after the party, behind the stage.

Apart from this impressive performance, they had many other activities as well. Indigenous dance and face painting (boring actually. But from it I knew the importance of emus, kangaroos and eagle in creating the world in Australian legend), Bollywood dance (just a short dance exercise. The funniest part was that a small boy holding a branch waved himself to interfere the group of young ladies exercise. Not on purpose, of course. But seeing he tried his best to follow them was just as funny as seeing a penguin tried to dance. Very lovely.), 3MBS Cry Baby classic concert, hip-hop in the street (like a kung fu competition) and waiters race {children sat in chairs placed in line as obstacles, waiters and waitresses had to run along the space among them with just one hand carrying a tray of coffee. A tall waiter was very smart and tricky, just like you, he moved the chairs into the shape S so that he could run the straight line to the destination. But audients and counterparts booed him and replace the chairs. The children must feel bizarre: why did the mad adults ask us to sit down and stand up, stand up and sit down. Their blank expressions showed that they had no idea at all about what they were doing. So lovely}