By Kate Hennessy

[Warning. Don't watch video or click through to story if you're squeamish.]

Three-and-a-half seconds, give or take a nanosecond or two. That’s the finely calibrated length of time I could gaze at the man suspended from hooks before a shudder would arch up my spine and I’d turn my head away. Repeat.

But that was Wednesday night and I’m back for more. It’s Friday night at the Powerhouse and it’s all about fear. I’m here with my sister who politely refused a consent armband at the door. “I’ll hold your bag, OK?” she says.

We enter and watch the amazing Rob Valenti from Polymorph suspend, with a polygraph attached to measure his “fear”.

An hour later, we’re inching through the crowd towards the stage. DJ Gemma is playing darkly ambient tunes: lots of cello and whispered vocals. Then a friend in front turns and says “What is Derek doing?” at the same moment as another friend nudges me from behind, hissing: “What are they doing to Derek?”.

I don’t have an answer for either of them. But we’re all about to find out.

My sister reads what could only be interpreted as slight concern on my face. “Who’s Derek?” she says.

“He works here, at the Powerhouse,” I reply. “He organised tonight.”

“Maybe he’s just getting a piercing,” says a friend. Just getting a piercing. As opposed to being hung from hooks embedded in his flesh? Yes – that’s what we’re talking about. We peer through the crowd to try to make out the scene.

It’s become pretty clear he’s signed up for a suspension. Even through the crowd and the confusion, the decision is distinctly readable on his face. He smiles every now and then but, for the most part, looks like he’s trying hard to focus.

What would the polygraph have registered if it was on Derek?

Now, I don’t know Derek well and haven’t known him long. But I know that as the organiser of this event, he’s done something really clever with his decision to go ahead with the suspension. This event was always about breaking down barriers. Barriers between science and fetish. Between different communities.

But, while watching the professional suspension artists on Wednesday had been intense, there was still a barrier. Before Wednesday it had been a heavy, impermeable wall between me and that world of performance. After watching Rob and Ben “fly” that wall was knocked down – but not entirely. There was me, and there was them; the choices they made and the choices I would make.

With Derek on the “operating table” now, I feel more personally connected to the experience.

He isn’t a professional, he’s never done it before, and here he is – body on the line. I feel concerned for him and awed by his bravery. I don’t feel like I am watching performance art any more: I feel like I am watching something real.

Natasha Mitchell talks to Derek about how it felt getting the hooks inserted.

“If a piercer ever tells you it’s going to feel like a bee sting,” he replies. “Don’t believe them. Unless they’re pointing to a bee that’s about a metre long.”

Rob Valenti takes the mic and tells the crowd there’s going to be a “floor level suspension”. He tells us to form a semi-circle, attaches himself to the suspension cables on Derek’s back and they begin what looks like an incredibly painful and grueling tug-o-war.

Again, I find it very difficult to watch for more than three-and-a-half seconds. I figure my mind, body and general coping mechanisms are telling me this is my limit because it’s always the same length of time.

It’s not that I am judgmental, or even particularly spooked by the idea of suspension. Or “the dark side”. I grew up listening to metal (read the song titles on the Carcass album ‘Reek of Putrefaction’ and you’ll get some idea of how sensitive I’m not to the visceral!). I wore a nose ring in the 90s like everyone else – no problem!

But I’ve always had a BIG problem with the idea of flesh being cut or stretched. That, and tidal waves, are two recurring nightmares. It’s almost like motion sickness. It just happens.

After it’s over, Rob’s flesh is not looking so good but Derek looks OK. They head straight for water and … caramel slice. It’s the sugar, apparently.

I can’t say I’m sad it’s over.

“I wonder if he’s hooked now?” quips my friend Ian.

Later we talk to Derek who explains he somehow can’t quite recall the most intense parts. Could it be this that leads people to try it again? Trying to remember that intensity?

I’ll guess I’ll never know…

Tags: dark science, fear, flesh, suspension

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