The Honey Trap at the Life of Fire party. — Photo by Kurt Dietrich

Spread out across three warehouses, 12 hours and four sound stages, last weekend’s Life of Fire event was part dance party, part art installation, part exhibitionism, and all spectacle. Before revelers even got inside the first door, they were greeted by a chainsaw wielding ice sculptor on a loading dock who offered a good idea of what to expect from the rest of the night.

The event was a result of the combined efforts of TheDanger and Blk Market — two names experienced in throwing underground parties, and who worked together here for the first time. 3rd Ward, Mister Saturday Night, and The Lady Circus also threw their seasoned weight behind it.

Will Etundi, the founder of TheDanger, has been throwing these parties for about ten years, starting them as political fundraisers, raising money for community projects. “Eventually the parties just became bigger than the activism, and they no longer have a political theme,” he says. The recent party that Cumba Mela played, which was a fundraiser for Domes for Haiti, was a good example of what they used to be about.

After each of the past summer’s raves, 3rd Ward claims it will be their last, and that the main room will be turned into a woodshop. But the woodshop seems to keep getting bumped back.

At Life of Fire, the first building partygoers had to enter was 3rd Ward. In the halls, strings ran along its art-covered walls leading to metallaphones placed all over, controlled by a keyboard that anyone could play. Fire dancers painted strokes of light in the dark courtyard. A sweaty crowd jumped and bounced inside the sparkling Seizure Dome, passing a controller around that directed the pattern of its LED lights. Others lounged about on inflatable furniture in a room lit by the flickering lights of live VJs.

On Scholes St., people clambered about on a honeycomb wall and danced or swung on the swings littered about. The Gamelatron played atmospheric ambiance in a dark smokey room on Meserole St., where its parts were attached to different pillars and walls scattered about.

As for music, the biggest name on the long list of performers had to be Afrika Bambaataa, one of the forefathers of hip hop.

“It was interesting seeing the young artists and hipsters, if you want to call them that, mixing with with the old school heads, Bambaataa’s peers,” reflects Etundi.

Another star was Kyle Hall, the 18-year-old Detroit house music prodigy. He was the secret DJ billed to perform that night, and was in town for another party in Manhattan. His set kept the huge dancefloor satisfied until the sun started creeping through the grimey warehouse windows.

But for all it was worth, and for all its unspoken talent — just wait until Halloween, Etundi teases: “It’s going to be even bigger and more ambitious.”