- Mariana Berezovska catches the latest edition of the cutting-edge party series in Ukraine.
- As I arrived at Dovzhenko Film Studio, the massive pavilion that has hosted several editions of Схема, there was something odd in the air. The crowd was super young and very fashionably dressed. The atmosphere was filled with excitement—unusual today at most European clubs, where you must behave in line if you want to get in.
Схема has become known to international audiences through the films and photography that have appeared in magazines like i-D, and because of its podcast, which is curated by resident DJs and has included guests like Inga Mauer, M.E.S.H. and Lutto Lento. The party series started in Kyiv a few years ago and has been held every couple of months at different locations in the Ukrainian capital and a few other cities in Europe. It has gained a reputation for uncompromising lineups with local DJs at the forefront, as well as its impressive brutalist locations. The more mature Схема and its crowd become, the more experimentation happens on the dance floor.
Схема's current venue is a film studio built in the 1920s that, a century later, has become the perfect rave playground, with a minimalist setup on a concrete surface and huge lights exploding from the ceiling. As I moved through the boiling space towards the stage, the local hero Konakov was dropping his own unreleased tracks, the latest of which has a vocal sample that commands the crowd to "dance before your death." The dancing was rough and primal. People came here to move hard and fast, but also, clearly, to show off their outfits—a mixture of the trendiest Instagram brands and garments from the Lisova second-hand market.
The night's five live sets—from Aleksei Podat, Konakov, Voin Oruwu, N.M.O. and Via App—were welcomed with enthusiasm, with no one standing around, waiting for techno hits. The socialising was all taking place outside, while the spacious pavilion was hot and moving. N.M.O. delivered the most impressive set, their military techno percussion and roaring electro machines tearing the space apart. After the party, social media critics fiercely complained that such experimental acts were better to listen to at home, not in the club. I don't know what kind of homes they live in, but to me those sounds sound best in a big venue, and very few clubs actually dare to present such acts in the middle of the night.
When morning came, Hyperaktivist broke bad with a set of steady, straight-forward techno, and no doubters were left in the crowd. She was the reason most people were there. The energy escalated even more with the local young talent Nastya Muravyova, a Схема regular who always hits hard.
Chilling outside, I could hear a few foreign languages spoken among people who had come from all over to see what all the hype was about. No one seemed disappointed. Today, Схема is something very special happening in the middle of Eastern Europe, but I think its magic isn't due to the music or the massive venues, but the excitement and freshness in the air there. Its hungry crowd didn't experience '90s rave, but they clearly embrace its heritage and have brought in a refreshing interpretation of its social message. Let's hope it survives the hype.
Photo credit /
Tiago Biscaia