AMY STOCKLEIN
“Hush” at Crucible is geared for people sensitive to loud noises and bright lights.
It’s a dark Thursday evening inside Crucible, the “playhouse for the peculiar,” on Commercial Avenue. Darker than usual. The few windows in the industrial space with high ceilings are covered. The art lining the walls is barely visible, save for a few black-lit pieces in a corner. The only lights on the dance floor are soft washes in sunset colors. They fade slowly in and out.
Dotting the square rubber dance floor, half a dozen people sway to mid-tempo, mid-’90s tunes like Sneaker Pimps’ “6 Underground” and Bjork’s “Come to Me.” Dancers move freely and meditatively, off in their own worlds. One seems to be integrating tai chi into his moves. There’s plenty of arm room. If someone were to sing along to the songs, it would be audible. There’s no fog or lasers. There are no strobe lights, which for some people can cause seizures and migraines. The bass will not be dropping.
For some, this sedate dance night is a social godsend. “Hush” is a low-sensory event designed to be inviting to anyone who is sensitive to the cacophony of most dance clubs. Or simply seeks a quieter night out.
In the adjoining tap room, one patron shares disappointing past experiences with conventional nightlife. “I’m an autistic person with a sensory processing issue, and so it’s really nice to be somewhere welcoming of that,” says Robin, who prefers to use one name. “I haven’t been to so many events because of the assumption that they wouldn’t be good places for me.”
The dance floor at “Hush” isn’t crowded. Some attendees sit in small groups scattered at tables in the relative dark nearby. Others retreat to the quieter bar room. Attendees of a low sensory event are the types who might need to sit and rest a spell.
dj ellafine’s first set ends after some higher BPM songs like Phantogram’s “Nothing But Trouble” and DJ Umi starts to spin pop R&B. A few songs into the set, Kat Beyer takes a break from dancing to sip a beverage. Beyer came to “Hush” because she suggested this event to Crucible as the club was polling the community when it opened eight months ago. She’s staying because she doesn’t have to wear earplugs to enjoy the evening.
Beyer has fibromyalgia, the pain of which can be triggered by loud noises. She says she has to steel herself against the effects of bright lights, dry ice and late nights. “But lots of people can’t do that and even I get tired out by doing it, so I’d rather be in a place where I don’t have to.”
After the event, co-owner Greg Kveberg says future low-sensory events might take place earlier in the evening before another event. This event started at 8 p.m., but the roughly 45 attendees had cleared out by midnight.
It’s not only the patrons who appreciate a less intense club experience. Elly Fine, who performs as dj ellafine, often brings a chair into the DJ booth with her. Her decade-old lupus diagnosis is slowly becoming part of her life as arthritis-like symptoms make dancing and standing for long periods more difficult. At times, she walks with a cane.
But Fine rejects the idea that events like these are addressing “special needs,” a phrase that’s often thrown around.
“It’s basic needs. It’s making accommodations so we can go out and do things and live our lives in a basic way — the way that other people do,” Fine says. “People deserve to be able to have regular lives.”
1 in 20: people who may be affected by sensory processing disorders
1 in 11: people who will be diagnosed with PTSD
10 million: Americans who have fibromyalgia
40 million: Americans living with disabilities, according to the U.S. Census Bureau
12 percent: Americans who suffer from migraines
1.5 million: Americans who have lupus
