In a quiet corner of a neighbourhood house in Hobart, a group of locals gather around a kitchen table. The atmosphere is warm, not sombre. There’s coffee, home-baked cake and a vase of wilting flowers. But the conversation is anything but casual.
They’re here to talk about death.
This is a death café, part of a growing global movement where people come together to discuss dying, mortality, grief and legacy in an open, inclusive setting. Often hosted by artists, celebrants or palliative care workers, these informal events are gaining traction across Australia, especially among creatives who are increasingly incorporating death literacy into their practice.
Why death cafès matter now
The concept of death cafés began in Switzerland and the UK, but the format has found particular resonance in Australia in recent years. In a country still grappling with the aftershocks of the pandemic, the climate crisis and an ageing population, death cafés offer something we don’t get often enough: a chance to talk about dying without fear or shame.
In Melbourne’s western suburbs, monthly gatherings at the Louis Joel Arts & Community Centre regularly attract participants across generations. Facilitator Karen Ingram describes the sessions as ‘safe, sacred, warm and vulnerable’ – a place to share stories and confront taboos in good company. As she told The Westsider, ‘Death cafés bring people – often strangers – together to drink tea, eat cake and talk about death.’
Far from being grim, the tone of these events is often gentle, even joyful. As artist and celebrant Jacqui Williams explains, her ‘Death Café by the Bay‘ events in Victoria and Queensland create space for ‘humour, vulnerability and truth’. Williams sees the café format as inherently democratic: no guest speakers, no agendas, just conversation.
Death cafès and the arts
While not all death cafés are explicitly artistic, many of them blur the line between social engagement and creative practice. In Tasmania, for example, the Tasman Peninsula’s Neighbourhood House has embedded death cafés within a community art program that includes storytelling, journalling and visual expression. As reported by Primary Health Tasmania, these gatherings help normalise end-of-life discussions and strengthen intergenerational bonds through creative dialogue.
For some artists, death cafés also serve as research spaces. Contemporary visual artists, playwrights and choreographers have begun exploring themes of mortality, ritual and care in their work. The gentle intimacy of the café format, combined with its lack of hierarchy, mirrors many participatory art principles: listen deeply, suspend judgement and allow space for meaning to emerge.
Death cafès as resistance to death denial
Australia’s arts and health sectors have long recognised the need to improve public ‘death literacy’, a term that describes how comfortable and capable people feel when it comes to talking, planning and making decisions about death and dying. Yet, despite this, death remains a largely avoided topic in mainstream culture.
Death cafés intervene in that silence. As The Funky Celebrant blog puts it, ‘These gatherings aren’t about doom and gloom but about open, honest conversations on a topic we often avoid.’
Many participants report that simply having the chance to speak about their experiences – whether it’s witnessing a parent die, navigating a cancer diagnosis or contemplating a creative legacy – is liberating. These conversations often include art and creativity as ways of processing what words can’t always hold.
Could death cafès become a new frontier of artistic practice?
There is something inherently performative about the death café format: a room of strangers, a shared prompt, a cultural taboo and the emotional arc that unfolds. It’s no surprise that some artists are now considering death cafés not just as sites of dialogue, but as live, participatory works in themselves.
At a time when socially engaged art is looking for new ways to centre care, slowness and depth, death cafés offer a quietly radical model. They do not promise resolution or spectacle. Instead, they offer honesty, witness and the strangely beautiful reminder that mortality is the great equaliser and a deeply humanising creative resource.
Visit deathcafe.com for global listings or contact your local Neighbourhood House or arts centre to propose a session. Artists interested in integrating end-of-life themes into their practice can also connect with groups like Palliative Care Australia or Groundswell Projects.
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