Mob Mayhem

Saturday March 25, 2006
Vancouver Art Gallery
Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

The air was thick with anticipation in Robson Square this afternoon as a crowd of people began to gather near the steps of the Vancouver Art Gallery. Innocent passers-by, feeling that something was about to happen, asked their companions what was going on while pushing their way through the throng of people clogging the Robson St. sidewalks between Howe and Hornby.

At precisely 3pm a solitary male voice was raised to ask the question, "What time is it?" "Three o'clock!" was the answer as the crowd, seemingly operating as a single unit, opened their bags and packs, withdrew their weapons, and converged on the open space at the foot of the Art Gallery stairs.

What happened next was something most Vancouverites could never have imagined. As members of the mob began to pummel one another with their weapons of choice, it became clear that this was not the loud but non-violent protest rally so typical of this venue.

This was chaos.

This was mayhem.

This was the biggest pillow fight I have ever seen.

For fifteen minutes the madness ran its course. Maniacal laughter could be heard as pillows exploded sending their contents, as choking clouds, into the air. People trying to clear their mouths and noses of feathers were subject to numerous blows, often from behind, as those around them took their momentary weakness for opportunity.

As the insanity escalated, solitary images began to stand out. A man carrying his young son on his shoulder to keep him above the worst of the action. A college-age girl, clearly out of her mind, screaming, "Hit me! Someone hit me!" and then standing still while she was beaten with pillows from all sides. And all the while people stood by and watched, took pictures, and even cheered the mob on.

As the fifteenth minute passed a great cheer went up from the crowd on the gallery steps. It was answered with a resounding cry from the crowd on the sidewalk as pillows were lifted in a sign of victory. Then, their battle fury seemingly quenched, the pillows were packed away and people began slowly to leave the area.

As the crowd began to dissipate the scene of carnage was nearly overwhelming. The ground was covered in a blanket of white and brown feathers, and everywhere you looked there were bodies; some lying on the ground motionless, some clutching their pillows to their chests, some flat on their back waving their arms up and down to make a sick mockery of a child's snow angel. A gust of wind picked up a thin sheet of feathers and carried them into the air, the screen of white seeming to somehow cleanse the area as the individuals, no longer a mob, brushed themselves off and went their separate ways.

This was Pillow Fight Club. Vancouver style.