A Festival of Shadows: Dark Mofo Returns to Bathe Tasmania in Red.

In a country obsessed with sunshine and surf, Dark Mofo stands proudly out of season. It’s the annual reminder that Australia’s most daring art doesn’t happen under the sun but beneath the solstice. The organisers have confirmed that the 2026 edition will once again descend upon lutruwita / Tasmania from 11 to 22 June - a return of ritual, red light and unrepentant hedonism.

Come for the fire - stay for the fever dream.

Every winter, Hobart is transformed into something between a pagan procession and a fever dream. The Winter Feast flickers along the waterfront, a sensory communion of smoke, scallops and mulled temptation. Night Mass, that infamous late-night sprawl through Hobart’s CBD, turns the city into a labyrinth of light and excess. The Nude Solstice Swim follows - hundreds of brave, shivering figures greeting the dawn stripped of artifice and, well, everything else. In a world of curated lives, Dark Mofo’s nakedness is oddly refreshing.

The festival’s success lies in its contradictions. It is both sacred and profane, local and global, indulgent and austere. Emerging from the mind of MONA’s David Walsh, Dark Mofo blurs the line between performance and pilgrimage. It celebrates art that unsettles, meals that feel like rituals, and music that sounds like a séance. There’s always something slightly unhinged about it - but that’s precisely the point. Tasmania’s darkness is fertile ground, and this festival thrives in its soil.

After its hiatus, the 2025 edition lured over 50,000 visitors and injected millions into the state’s economy. But beyond the numbers, what makes Dark Mofo remarkable is its ability to reshape the psychology of place. The city collectively submits - restaurants extend hours, locals join in, and visitors linger longer than they intended, caught between the fog, the firelight and the faint smell of pinot and paraffin.

What began as an experiment in cultural inversion has become a global phenomenon, one that feels less like tourism and more like a rite of passage. There’s a strange comfort in watching the longest night of the year swallowed by art and fire, in seeing a small island glow blood-red against the cold.

So, mark your calendars. Bring a coat, a hunger, and a healthy disregard for warmth. For eleven days in June, Tasmania won’t just host a festival - it will conjure one. And as the rest of Australia basks in denial, Hobart will once again stare into the dark until it starts to sing back.

Submit your interest here.

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Words by AW.

Photo courtesy of Dark Lab.