Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Going all around, bro

My best friend flew in from London and, of course, his flight was delayed. By the time we reached the beach, we had missed the Vernissage (this is like my third time I've attempted to attend and did not make it).
The Art Center had a really great opening, packed with people and the work was mostly influenced by street and graffiti art. It's still up, go check it out.
There were no containers this year, which wasn't entirely surprising because last year kind of sucked. They did have free bbq, expensive drinks and this huge installation which was relatively boring, but neat enough as it looked like a strange, glowing village.

The Bass was happening, and although this exhibition went up about a month back, it's a goody!

As usual, we went by the Raleigh for the private Deitch party, but this is the first year I didn't bother sneaking past the bouncer to get to the tables. I think this was probably because there were half as many tables as last year and the people actually stayed at them throughout the concert. Usually they leave and we can sit at their tables and drink their leftovers. Proof of a sour economy, I suppose. Santigold performed and I thought it was a visually interesting experience. It was a little bit of a snooze only because we were sober and it was the hottest most humid night I've had in Miami, maybe ever. She had these two synchronized dancers in MC Hammer garb that stopped for extended periods and then started dancing again at the same time without looking at each other.
In order to end the night, we hit up PS14, which had been "transformed" into Max Fish, the LES bar. I thought it looked really good inside, a lot like Max Fish, but we went the next night too, and it was packed, slow and there was no dancing. They had laid back musical acts inside, and no music at all out back, except what was blaring over the wall from Vagabond. Either way, it was a good place to run into friends.

These people started with their fire throwing and everyone expressed a fear of getting burnt. But, of course, I wasn't scared, even when the flames from the baton landed at my foot. I didn't tip them because they almost seared me. They understood.

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