Experience Bankstown Lunar New Year through food, performance and place, as Griffith Park becomes a twilight gathering shaped by culture, memory and renewal.
By late afternoon in early February, the light over Griffith Park begins to soften. The heat loosens its grip, families arrive with folding chairs and prams, and the sound of drums being tested carries across Olympic Parade. This is Bankstown Lunar New Year, unfolding not as spectacle but as ritual – familiar, layered, and patiently anticipated. In Sydney’s southwest, the celebration settles into the park with the quiet confidence of something well known.
Children weave through the crowd clutching red envelopes, elders find shade beneath trees they have stood under for decades, and the scent of grilled satay drifts on the breeze. Bankstown Lunar New Year does not announce itself loudly. It gathers momentum as dusk approaches, when the day exhales and the night steps forward.
A Local Calendar Marked In Red And Gold
For many in Canterbury-Bankstown, Lunar New Year is not an abstract date but a lived season. It is marked in shopping lists, family phone calls, and the careful choice of clothing. Bankstown Lunar New Year arrives as part of that rhythm, anchored to place and community rather than the calendar alone.
With one of the largest Chinese and Vietnamese populations in New South Wales, the area holds traditions that have travelled far and adapted gently. The park becomes a meeting ground – not just for celebration, but for recognition. Familiar faces appear year after year, and performances are greeted not with surprise, but with pride.
As the Year of the Horse is welcomed, its symbolism feels apt here: movement, energy, and quiet endurance. The animal’s restlessness echoes the suburb itself, long shaped by migration, work, and reinvention.

Bankstown Lunar New Year After Dark
As evening settles, Bankstown Lunar New Year shifts in tone. Lights flicker on, lanterns glow softly, and the crowd thickens without losing its calm. On stage, Vietnamese, Chinese, and Korean performers move through songs and dances that carry both precision and warmth. The applause is steady, respectful – a recognition of effort as much as artistry.
Nearby, the Lunar New Year Garden offers a pause. Bonsai trees sit carefully arranged, their twisted forms drawing people in close. Calligraphy stations invite quiet observation as brushes move slowly across red paper, each stroke deliberate. Children watch, momentarily stilled, before darting off again toward face painting or giant Chinese chess boards set out on the grass.
Food stalls form their own constellation. Dumplings hiss as they hit hot plates, skewers char gently over open flames, and queues form without impatience. Eating here feels communal – shared benches, exchanged smiles, conversations that drift between languages.

Performance As Living Memory
One of the defining qualities of Bankstown Lunar New Year is how performance operates as memory rather than display. Groups like VietAus Little Stars bring children on stage in traditional dress, including the flowing Áo Dài. Their movements are careful, sometimes tentative, but always earnest. For parents watching, there is something at stake – a passing on of stories, gestures, and confidence.
Lion and dragon dancers arrive with percussion that reverberates through the park. The crackle of firecrackers briefly fractures the calm, startling and delighting in equal measure. These sounds are not background noise; they are markers, signalling luck, renewal, and protection.
The God and Goddess of Good Fortune move through the crowd, distributing red envelopes and posing for photos. Their presence is playful, but also grounding – a reminder that symbolism here is active, not ornamental.

Beyond The Park: A Shared Horizon
While Bankstown Lunar New Year anchors the opening of the season, it does not stand alone. It gestures forward toward Campsie and the Lantern Festival that will close the celebrations weeks later. Together, they frame the beginning and end of a time shaped by reflection and hope.
This dual marking is rare, and it speaks to the confidence of a council and community willing to hold space for both ceremony and gathering. The celebrations do not ask visitors to consume culture quickly. They invite lingering – to watch a dance until its meaning settles, to taste food slowly, to listen.
Mayor Bilal El-Hayek has described Lunar New Year here as a cornerstone event, and the description fits. Not because of numbers alone, but because of continuity. Each year builds on the last, carrying forward relationships as much as traditions.

Bankstown Lunar New Year At Dusk’s Edge
As the night deepens, families begin to drift away. Children grow heavy-eyed, performers pack away costumes, and volunteers fold tables under soft streetlight. Bankstown Lunar New Year does not end abruptly; it thins out, leaving traces – the smell of smoke, scraps of red paper, a hum of satisfaction.
What lingers most is not spectacle but atmosphere. The sense of having shared something unforced and sincere. In a city often defined by its pace, Bankstown Lunar New Year offers a moment of collective slowing – a reminder that celebration can be both joyful and grounded.
Walking away from Griffith Park, the sounds fade, but the feeling stays. Renewal here is not loud. It is steady, local, and deeply felt.