Tribe of Nova plans on dancing again

A Tel Aviv exhibit about the October 7 massacre at the desert rave

When word of the Supernova Festival — the outdoor, all-night trance party attacked by hundreds of Hamas terrorists who slaughtered some 360 partygoers and abducted dozens more — first began appearing on October 7, I immediately thought about my nephew, Adam.

He’s in his early 30s, a steady, responsible, loving guy with a cat who enjoys nothing more than parties just like these. He regularly goes to Midburn, the Israeli version of Burning Man, creates and sews outrageous costumes for himself and his friends for desert raves held during Purim each year, he’s always the guy on the dance floor — he is exactly the kind of person who heads to these events. Thank god, however, he wasn’t there this time.

But hundreds, thousands of others were there — young, beautiful people at the start of their adult lives along with those who have long been partying like this whenever they get the chance, looking for some hours of freedom, music and dance, camping out among the orchards and fields of Kibbutz Reim. For some, it was their very first rave, for others, one of countless festivals they’d attended over the years.

At a past Tribe of Nova event last March, at a memorial a few weeks ago, where DJs played to a field of faces

It was a massacre that took place there, by all accounts. It appears the Hamas terrorists didn’t know about the event beforehand, but dropped in on paragliders, presumably planning to attack the kibbutz when they happened upon hundreds of partygoers, many stoned, up all night, shocked into action by the wave of rockets and running for their lives as the gunmen blocked the exits and began shooting people, killing them, raping women and abducting people as well.

In the two months since October 7, the survivors of Supernova have given testimonies, have gathered at a few places in Israel and abroad to try and recover from the traumas of that day, as they mourn their friends and think about what happens next.

And now there’s an exhibit as well, called Nova, which opened this week at Expo Tel Aviv, the exhibition grounds in north Tel Aviv that are perhaps best known for hosting Eurovision 2019 — which feels like another lifetime.

I haven’t been to a rave, ever, but I know Israeli campgrounds and festivals and concerts and the sense of freedom people seek at these events, and that’s what’s been recreated in the unlikely space of an indoor exhibition pavilion.

There are the tents and sleeping bags and straw mats — left by escaping partygoers — now set up to mimic the camping area. A circle of placards written in Hebrew and English describes the Nova or Super Nova organization, founded in 2014 by a group of folks from Tel Aviv’s nightlife scene who wanted to hold trance events under the open sky. They called themselves the Tribe of Nova, and held their first Supernova Festival in October 2022, aligning themselves with other trance groups globally.

The recreated campsite, massive screens and personal items left by those who fled

The exhibits includes the carts and kiosks that were at this Supernova, where people sold tie-dye shirts and crafts, another stand where people could get massages. The recreated dance area at the exhibit is absolutely haunting, with a long bar, full of beer bottles and cups scattered along the top, and, around the perimeter, huge video screens projecting images from the night of October 6 and the early morning hours of October 7. The DJs, all men, all in their late 30s and 40s, are seen, eyes down on their equipment, grooving to the music that’s playing, everyone dancing in a state of bliss.

And as you feel the music filling the space, there are screenshots of the Whatsapp chats partygoers were having with one another, with their families and loved ones, as the rockets began raining down and the terrorists attacked, and everyone ran, trying to hide in bushes and trees and ditches, playing dead, scrambling for cover wherever they could.

So many didn’t make it. Some 3,000 people were reportedly at the event, and the survivors are determined to dance again, a line that’s repeated throughout the exhibit.

“We will dance again,” is written on a giant canvas with markers for visitors to use, writing their names or coloring in the images drawn on the canvas.

But first the exhibit takes visitors to the last section, with some half a dozen tables filled with neatly placed sneakers and sandals, rows of backpacks and sunglasses and clothing, deodorants and notebooks and jewelry, all left by the Supernova partygoers as they fled, trying to survive the assault.

It echoes the exhibits of the shoes and suitcases and personal items of those taken to the concentration camps by the Nazis in World War Two. It’s eerie and hard and painful to look at. I don’t know if these are only the items of those who were killed and kidnapped. I’m not sure it matters.

What matters is that these people went to party for one night and were attacked, slaughtered, injured and abducted.

I’m so thankful for those who did survive, because then they’ll be sure to dance again, as that’s what this crowd does. I don’t know when that will happen and I imagine they don’t know either, but it will happen when they’re ready.

And who knows? Maybe I’ll join them with my nephew. Maybe we all will.

Nova, Pavilion One, Expo Tel Aviv. The organizers ask for a suggested donation of NIS 50 that will be gathered and given to the Gaza border communities.