A 'Silent Rave" in NYC which is comapred to the anarchist dance in C of Lot 49

[robinlandseadel at comcast.net]

               . . . And then we were reminded of the scene in Pynchon's The Crying
               of Lot 49, one of our favorite adolescent novels that we inflicted on 
               our students just a few weeks ago, where Oedipa, wandering on 
               her search for the Tristero conspiracy through a psychedelic night in
               late '60s San Francisco, finds herself dragged into a hotel ballroom
               where deaf-mute conventioneers are dancing in unison without 
               hearing any music.

http://who-will-kiss-the-pig.blogspot.com/2008/08/528-pm-sunday-in-union-square-park.html

Call it a psychedelic night in the Greater Bay Area in 1964. Oedipa's in Oakland for a lot of the night. And the ballroom scene:

          Each couple on the floor danced whatever was in the fellow's head:
          tango, two-step, bossa nova, slop. But how long, Oedipa thought, 
          could it go on before collisions became a serious hindrance? There 
          would have to be collisions. The only alternative was some 
          unthinkable order of music, many rhythms, all keys at once, a 
          choreography in which each couple meshed easy, predestined.
          Something they all heard with an extra sense atrophied in herself. 
          She followed her partner's lead, limp in the young mute's clasp, 
          waiting for the collisions to begin. But none came. She was danced 
          for half an hour before, by mysterious consensus, everybody took 
          a break, without having felt any touch but the touch of her partner. 
          Jesus Arrabal would have called it an anarchist miracle. Oedipa, 
          with—no name for it, was—only demoralized. She curtsied and fled. 

Most likely is at the Claremont:

http://www.claremontresort.com/About/

I'm sure the Lady in the picture is Oed.