News / / 13.01.14

Alfresco Disco NYE: The Ambassador’s Reception

Guild Hall, Bristol | December 31

We’re all familiar with the annual pandemonium during the run up to New Year’s. The same questions arise every time. If I can’t get a ticket, will I end up slumped in front of Jools Holland’s Hootenanny? Am I going to look rude if I leave this stupid Facebook thread? How is it even humanly possible for Eats Everything to be doing 12 gigs in 48 hours? And for those living in the South West, there’s the most common question of all: are you doing Alfresco this year?

So with their Bristol competitors bidding for huge names for months leading up to their 15,000+ capacity events, why is there such a frenzied ticket scramble over this party which doesn’t announce its venue, or even its (generally low-key) line-up until hours before the doors open? Alongside the quality of their affiliated DJs, the answer lies in Alfresco’s innovative use of unconventional spaces and a committed, quality-over-profit ethos.

Since its humble inception as a free party for mates, the institution has continued to expand. So can Alfresco preserve its essence despite its swelling popularity? A recent back-to-basics outdoor effort didn’t turn out to be the secretive and intimate party it was supposed to be due to an unexpectedly huge crowd being drawn. But due to the booming success of this New Year’s Eve event, that remains pretty much the only blip in Alfresco’s history.

The only tip we had of the nature of the event came courtesy of ‘The Ambassador’, whose reception we could expect to be an extravagant, experienced affair. On the evening, news broke that tonight’s party would be taking place bang in the city centre. Bristol’s huge Guild Hall building is plain by sight, something you’ve walked past a million times. It’s recently been used as an art space and is soon to be renovated into one of Bristol’s most luxurious hotels, but never would you look at it and think ‘that’d be a great place for a clubnight’. Entering the party is overwhelming. The building’s massive corridors and countless staircases lead to courtooms, libraries, prison cells, hammock-draped rooms for downtime. Immediately you realise that any attempts to meet up with your mates via text would be futile. But while at most nights of this size, the sensation of being shifted around the venue like cattle is sadly to be expected, tonight the number of staff is refreshingly low and there’s room to breathe. It feels liberating.

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As always with Alfresco, dress code is key: if you’re not dressed up, you’re letting everyone down. Prepped by the Ambassador’s message, welcoming the classiest ladies and gentleman from every corner of the globe, foreign diplomats mingled with Arabian princesses, Russian generals, Sheiks, relics from the war, the Ambassador himself, a flurry of 1920s flappers and plenty of blokes in suits, all accentuating the night’s charming aesthetics under one intricate, lofty ceiling.

Attempting to get our bearings – an achievement that never quite transpired – Crack glided upstairs to the library where our very own residents and Alfresco mainstays Pardon My French were laying down the foundations for their midnight slot. Warm, diverse selections made way for the ball drop on the now heaving Library space. Leading the countdown heroically, and never ones to tamper with such curatorial influence, the midnight slot came soundtracked by guilt free singalong moments courtesy of LCD Soundsystem’s bittersweet anthem All My Friends followed by How Soon Is Now?.

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We set off to spend the entirety of the night exploring and investigating our ostentatious surroundings. ‘Go this way down that stairway (maybe), take a right, then take a left, no, not that left’, and stumble into some of Bristol’s most beloved DJs (as well as Parisian special guest Brawther) in bespoke spaces, or another hidden smoking terrace, or a heartfelt 5am rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s Dreams in full, then retreat to do it all again.

Each piece of the expansive puzzle was rewarding, and demanded your attention. From chandeliers and candelabras, projections and spaced-out ambience in the old courtrooms to grime in the secret cells for hapless rummaging, or the library complete with two ornate, stained windowed entrance rooms and walls fully stocked with children’s books, you were never more than a grandiose stairway away from something absurd, something mischievous, something essentially Alfresco. At one point, we grab a cocktail in a bar room where a group are crowded around the grand piano in the corner. Turns out the piano isn’t real, it’s a replica that’s been built by the set designer and fitted with a MIDI keyboard so that the punters can play it. This is the level of effort we’re talking about. Spending the most fervently hyped night of the year wide eyed and discovering a previously unused Grade II listed Gothic hall felt defiant, coated in the smug gratification that once again sticking all your eggs in Alfresco’s illusive, hypnotically persuasive basket came up trumps. Cheers, Ambassador, until next time.

 

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alfrescodisco.co.uk

Words: Davy Reed & Anna Tehabsim

Photos: Jonathan Taphouse

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