Thirty Years On: The 1994 Tasty Raid

It was the early morning on 7 August 1994 at Tasty, a nightclub on Melbourne’s Flinders Lane. A Saturday night blended into Sunday morning as patrons danced, or ventured into the hedonistic ‘Grope Maze’ for dalliances in the dark. 

No one could have predicted that this particular evening would be a heartbreakingly significant moment in Melbourne’s LGBTQI+ history, and shape the Queer community’s relationship with the police for years to come. 

Clubbers had been warned that a drug raid was possible – tipped off by closeted police officers – but raids at local clubs were usually brief, even cursory. Plus, fear never got in the way of a good time – until it did.

Just after 2am, 40 Victoria Police officers burst into the venue, megaphones barking. The lights came on and the music was turned off. Dubbed ‘Operation Maze’, the police began what would be a traumatic seven-hour ordeal for the 467 patrons in the club.

In dozens of official complaints, patrons described how they were forced to stand for hours with their hands on their heads or the wall in front of them, subjected to humiliating strip-searches conducted within view of other patrons. 

One transgender patron confused the police, who, according to Tasty founder Gerard O’Connor, didn’t know “whether to put her in the male or the female toilet, and she was the only one to be given the privilege of even going to a toilet – and only because they were so confused… it was just an uneducated bungle.” 

Media initially reported that police had seized large quantities of amphetamines and heroin during the raid, but only two drug paraphernalia charges were brought, and then dropped – the charges were for prescription valium and an asthma inhaler.

Tasty founder Gavin Campbell who was on his way to the venue when the raid occurred, and O’Connor who was working that night, spoke to the Star Observer about that fateful night. 

The Tasty raid didn’t just violate the rights of the patrons, it permanently damaged the fabric of the community. Campbell says that “three weeks later it became apparent to [them] that this was dead. The club was gone.”

“We were an unknown safe little space that you could go to and do whatever you wanted, and when that was invaded, it was forever changed.” 

The following Monday, patrons met at the JOY FM studios, exhausted, but fuelled by fury. “We strategised how we should handle this, and it resulted in a triggered gay media activism in Victoria,” says Campbell. The coordinated effort turned the spotlight on Victoria Police and the state government. 

Simon Parsons and Co brought a lawsuit on behalf of Tasty patron Sally Gordon, a marketing director of the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras at the time. 

Judge Leonard Ostrowski ruled that the search was “beyond the power given to the police by the warrant.” Gordon was awarded $10,000 (around $20,150 today), and over the coming years, Victoria Police would pay around $6 million in damages to patrons – although many never came forward because of the risk of being outed. 

In 2014, acting Chief Commissioner Lucinda Nolan presented a formal apology on behalf of Victoria Police. 

The 30th anniversary event honouring the Tasty Raid

This year, to mark the 30 year anniversary, O’Connor and Campbell, alongside Tasty stalwarts Jono Francisco, Peter McNamara and Arlen de Silva will bring Tasty back to life at Inflation nightclub – including an installation replicating the beloved ‘Grope Maze’ by Trough X producer and designer, Nik Dimopoulos. 

O’Connor, now a celebrated photographer, has produced a photographic tribute to Tasty, featuring performers dressed as both patrons and police – which Star Observer is very honoured to feature as our cover for the August edition in Melbourne. 

Campbell says that “in the same vein as gay people reclaiming words like poofter and faggot, we’ve reclaimed the actions from the police that night.”

The venue may be gone, but Tasty lives on in the creative, vibrant and supportive community.

“[It] was the best, queerest, Studio 54, funky venue Melbourne had ever seen” says O’Connor, to which Campbell can only add: “it was a wild ride.”