Bye, Bye, Basel
Basking in the Aftermath of Basel
To even simply list the events associated with Art Basel would require a horde of scribes and a good many worked-through nights, not to mention multiple gigabytes of bandwidth. But of course Baselites have better things to do with their days and their nights than making lists, let alone checking ‘em twice, no matter how impressive the number might be. Besides, by the time one even made a dent in any would-be guide, they’d have missed more than they’d listed. And if there’s a single common denominator among the legions who descend upon our fair city for the fair of all fairs, it’s the drive to not miss a thing.
Impossible? You betcha. That’s part of what makes it so appealing. Hell, the attempt to attend more events than time permits seems to have become the primary reason for making the scene altogether. Why else the constant and breathless “Where are you goin’ next?”
Yet not every one of the hundred-thousand plus art party people spent their Basel looking over metaphoric shoulders for somewhere better to be, otherwise all the hotspots would simply have installed turnstiles. And if a vast majority did treat the week as something of a track meet, there were still many who were thrilled enough with where they were at any particular moment to actually stick around and swing awhile. It wasn’t always, and it wasn’t everywhere. But when it was, it was mad magic.
Take for instance Friday night at Bardot, when no less an aural wonder than Moby swooped in for a set that was simply sublime. Flanked by violinist Claudia Chopek and vocalist Inyang Bassey, and armed with nothing but an acoustic guitar, the man who gave the world some of its most machine-driven dance tracks, ditched the digital and drove straight to the core of what makes a song a song. Whether that song was Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire” (which called for the crowd to sing trumpet) or Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs” (which melted into and out of his own “Honey”) or something signature such as “South Side” (which was stripped as bare as a bride and a bachelor), the result consisted of sheer essence. The crowd sensed they were in on a very rare moment too, most remarkably during a rendering of the classic spiritual “Will the Circle Be Unbroken?”, when Bassey dug so low into her soul that the packed house was left completely silent. In a city that never shuts up, that’s saying something indeed.
Naturally Moby wasn’t the only thing kicking ass at Bardot during Basel (Macy Gray, Neon Indian and Holy Ghost! all took their turns too); nor was Bardot even close to the only venue kicking ass around town throughout the week. Other Mainland highlights include YACHT’s electro-magnetic magnificence at Electric Pickle, Black Lips’ boisterous bang at Grand Central, and both Nas and TV on the Radio at Ricochet (which went Spotify all Basel). Any one of the aforementioned would make for a great night out; coming in multiples as they did they made for some of the greatest.
Thrice greatest was the onslaught brought about by The Overthrow at their very own Basel Castle. As anyone who cares about the afterdark very well knows, the gang known as The Overthrow are behind much of the maddest happenings in Miami, New York and now L.A. For Basel, the lads and lasses pump up the crazy even louder. Like last year (the Castle’s first), the line stretched around the block and the night went well into the wee small hours of the morning. And like last year, the line-up featured some of the best and brightest racket-makers of the moment, some of whom everyone knows (i.e. Penguin Prison, The Rapture), some of whom everyone is getting to know (i.e. Yelawolf), and some of whom everyone will very well know very, very soon (i.e. Pharrell protege Cris Cab). Add to that last blast of soon-to-be ubiquitous our town’s organicArma, who remain the same only in name. Dharma 111 is still at the center of it all, but now he’s got soon-to-be singing sensation Benny King and ace gadget-master Axl by his side, and the retrofit looks set to rule the whole wild world at large. (Bet on it.)
If live was the first order of the Mainland night, then party was the Beach-side equivalent. Again, at this point a list would be useless. Yet a quick cross citing is definitely worth culling, even at the risk of leaving out something swinging.
As always, the stars came out for the Basel night, and as always, one of them even opened up the doors of his Star Island mansion to nightcrawlers. We speak of course of Sean Combs, otherwise known as various kinds of Diddy, who again invited over a thousand or so of his so-called friends. Diddy’s digs may by now have become a Basel staple, but the throwdown has in no way lost any of its allure. And many a normally cool and collected cat and kitten could be seen breathlessly texting their whereabouts once they made it past the guard house and the sentries.
Another commingling of music powerhouses took place on South Beach proper, specifically at Vic and Angelo’s, where hitmaker Rico Love hosted an invitation-only dinner for a few of his own friends, and in this case the crowd did appear to be buddies. Then again, when you’re the kinda cat who clocks chart-topped for the likes of Usher and Mary J. Blige you’ll probably have more than a few friends. Perhaps that’s why both Usher and Mary J were in attendance, and why they were joined by such bold-face names as Chris Bosh, Gabrielle Union and Tracy Mourning, and why Usher presented Love with the Grammy for “There Goes My Baby.”
Also on South Beach proper was the Playboy party at Dream’s Highbar, where Kembra Pfahler and four characters from The Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black rendered nudity a very moot point, and the extremely private party hosted by Miami Art Museum director Thom Collins atop restaurateur Myles Chefetz’s ultra-exclusive Ocean House. Like everything else Chefetz conceives, this too is platinum plus, and the confab said much about the promise of the incredibly keen Collins, who is leading MAM into a realm breathtaking enough for Basel and beyond.
When MAM finally does open its spectacular new edifice, they will have as neighbors a terrific new joint called The Corner, which opened its own doors last week and pretty much hasn’t shut since. Brainchild of Chris MacLeod and Manoles Papageorgiou, two DC natives with a Big Easy state of mind and a fondness for The Magic City, The Corner quickly became a kinda de facto VIP lounge for locals seeking to step away from the madness that was Basel. Many found the joint so comforting, and the company so keen, that they decided to stay the whole evening. Like MAM, which will rise directly three blocks east, The Corner will undoubtedly serve as a beacon to center of the city itself. And like the city, it will be serve as the kinda spot befitting something as world class as Basel. It’s already proven to be a balm for those in the know when they reach the end of another mad dash.
Basel 2012 anyone?
Category: COVER
