Jul 07, 2011|
The First of July has turned out to be quite a movement in Hong Kong since the 1997 handover. It’s a day when the citizens of our scintillating city actually get up from their politically apathetic asses and walk the big walk to give voice to the voiceless. Originally led by the Civil Human Rights Front, the protest rally is now an annual event to demand democracy and defend the way of life Hong Kong so justly deserves. Keep reading. Our infallible editors haven’t laid out Chip Tsao’s political column in my Nightlife section in error—this is still Johannes.
From Falun Gong members to the pissed off poor; from serious political groups with earnest agendas to teenage students who just want to let off some steam, there are people from all walks of life. Then there’s the small but flamboyant contingent of sexual minorities.
However, while organizers are claiming a turnout of 218,000 (the highest since 2004), I don’t think any gay people participated in the walk for their right and recognition to love this year. Oh they were all in Wan Chai, but they had flocked to the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre for PAGAN GODDESS OF LOVE WORSHIP. Yes, Kylie was in town to kick off her Aphrodite Live Asia Tour. Oh, it was a full-on fucking gay parade at HKCEC.
It only seemed like yesterday when I experienced KylieX2008 (for a blast from the past, read tinyurl.com/4ynkmet), so I wasn’t aching to see Aphrodite Live when I heard about it earlier this year. But then DJ Stonedog said he was getting really good seats, so why the hell not. I didn’t feel the excitement nor shit glitter as we sipped pre-concert champagne at Club Volume whilst listening to “German Bold Italic,” Kylie and Towa Tei’s 1998 techno collabo, but then when we saw EVERYONE we knew at the HKCEC lobby, I started shitting glitter.
So there I was, at the concert hall, fourth row from the front, dead center—and apparently all over the monitors as well in my Kylie t-shirt—and then she came out, on top of a golden seashell just like Botticelli’s Venus, rising out of the foamy digital sea between the Doric columns of a Greek temple. Incredibly, the front row of gay men didn’t stand up for Kylie right away. But when her physically perfect male dancers went topless, they all got up and bopped. Sluts!! Diss, bitches!!!!
Aphrodite Live was amazeballs. Even the 14 straight men there shat glitter. Miss Minogue definitely deserves maximum respect for bringing a production of that colossal scale to Hong Kong. The show fulfilled my childhood fascination with Greek mythology and then some: Vestal virgins, gladiators, adult cupids (the classical Greek depiction of Eros had always undergone puberty, as opposed to the Roman chubby winged babies).
One of my favorite images was Minogue in fierce monster makeup as Scylla, with sexy tentacles writhing all over the screen. Kylie’s vocal chords were in top form, evident when she went a cappella. Besides her pulsating dance numbers, I especially relished her sensual, bluesy jazz rendition of “Slow.” Another fantasy of mine manifested into this reality—get this: a samba version of “Better the Devil You Know.” Kylie shook her bootilicious bunda with her shit hot carnival dancers. Oh the euphoric mash up of “Looking For An Angel” with Anne Lennox’s “Must Be An Angel” deserves a mention as well.
I only had a light lunch, so after two hours of intense cardio workout, nonstop screaming and pagan Greek bhakti, I had to rush to 369 to scoff down xiaolongbaos to replenish while the whole of HK’s gay community dashed off to Volume and Propaganda to hook up.