The recent police crackdown on the Summer Love fest in Tuen Mun has many wondering if we’ll ever have an outdoor party scene.
Saturday July 12. The River Trade Golf centre is infested with cops. Forty inside and 60 outside are on hand to shut down the Summer Love Music Festival. Patrons showing up expecting kick-ass outdoor music are having their hopes destroyed as cops search them and warn that ‘if’ they enter the party, there ‘might’ be a chance they will be arrested. Some turn away – others stand their ground.
Bourree Lam, TOHK staff writer, had barely boarded the shuttle bus in TST to the venue before being warned. “Do you acknowledge you’ve seen this notice and you’re attending an illegal event, where if you attend you might be arrested?” asked one of the organisers, presenting what looked like a police warning, explaining they needed to show it to avoid liability. “Yes,” said the five-foot-one journalist, who promptly boarded the bus. The party kids were ready to roll when the path was blocked off by an unidentifiable black van. “Everybody off the bus,” said cops suited up in what appeared to be SWAT gear. “The party is over.” The organisers swiftly intervened “That’s not confirmed. We’re still confirming.”
Over at the venue, one of the police took to the stage in a final attempt to tell the few hundred already gathered they had to leave, when a bottle flew from the pit and up towards the stage, making the bust official. Four hours and four arrests later, the party was indeed over – the police had achieved their mission to shut down the event, leaving concert goers confused and blaming the promoters, Croxxover. All those arrested were released without charge – no case, no explanation.
According to a police spokesperson, the organisers didn’t obtain the entertainment license they needed for the event to be legal. When asked if they knew about the event beforehand they said yes, but when asked how long they knew about it for, and how much notice they gave the promoters to cancel the event, they stated, “We do not have this kind of information. We can just tell you we warned the organisers.”
In a written explanation, the police state, “It was a joint operation with the Food and Environmental Hygiene Department and the Environmental Protection Department at about 6.30pm on July 12, after a party was found to have been held without obtaining a temporary place of public entertainment license.”
Countering the statement, one of the organisers told TOHK that the police had been well aware of the festival details weeks in advance, but had never given an actual answer as to whether it could go on or not. “Why didn’t they stop the party earlier? We had no notice,” says the organiser, who wishes to remain nameless, adding that afterwards the cops had no case against them, making it harder to fight the system because they couldn’t prove themselves in court.
Taking into consideration that the authorities state they knew about the license issue two and a half hours before the start of the event, people can only wonder why the police waited until 1am before shutting it down. Attendees and promoters alike were confused by the vague innuendo the cops chose to use throughout the night, attaching ‘might’ to ‘arrest’, words seemingly designed to instil alarm into participants.
One of the first to arrive at the Tuen Mun golf centre at 9.30pm was clubber Sarah Mccormack, who was shocked to see a huge police blockade warning patrons it was an illegal event. “It was mixed messages really – you can go in, but if you buy a drink or dance you are liable to get arrested. Basically you were allowed in, but you weren’t able to partake,” she says.
In the past, there have been numerous occasions where parties have been raided by police on a hunch there might be drugs present. Hong Kong promoter AKW recalled a handover anniversary party in July 2007 at Western Market, where police arrived around 2am, turned on the lights, killed the music, and searched the crowd. Meanwhile, back in the late 1990s, Hong Kong’s first super club, Pink, based in the industrial environs of Chai Wan, was raided almost every night, until it was forced to close due to lack of custom.
“Why does this keep happening at dance events? It’s obvious they are trying to stamp this culture out. To be honest, I think they are succeeding,” says AKW. Mccormack doesn’t know who she sides with, but one thing is for sure, “People won’t have the confidence in going to an event [by] whatever these people were called. It was a shoddy affair.” Regardless of who attempts to organise the next party, the events on the night of July 12 could mean fewer outdoor music events for all of us – a ripple effect that will likely discourage people from attending future gigs.
So what about some advice for future promoters planning to throw high-profile events? Event organizer Nick Willsher from hkclubbing.com says, “If [they’re] doing an event with more than 500 people they should provide a detailed plan of anything they want to do, and have a full detailed report for the police. It’s better to work with them.”
Certainly, law enforcement is in place to ensure the safety of others, but whether or not the government supports the idea of a festival culture remains uncertain. It will remain a grey area for organisers, because no matter their best efforts to work with the authorities, they’ll never have a solid grasp of police agenda. According to AKW, “Even if they would’ve done everything by the books, the police still would’ve found a way to shut it down.”
With the future of our outdoor party culture in limbo, patrons support the cause knowing they may have to pay the consequences, when, ultimately, all we really want is for the show to go on.
Tina Lee