11 of 2011
The Most Moving Miami Moments of the Year
Bryan Ferry at The Fillmore Gleason
What do Tom Waits, Leonard Cohen, David Bowie, Frank Sinatra and Bryan Ferry all have in common? For one, they’re my Top Five of All-Time, who together would make for one heavenly quintet. For another, they are pretty much the only singers I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing who’ve kept me silent and in my seat for the duration of their shows. Really.
Back in September, Bryan Ferry alighted on South Beach. The reason? The launch of his North American tour, which began at The Fillmore Gleason and ended at L.A.’s Greek Theater. As you might suspect, each and every one of the dapper songman’s engagements was sold out. What you might not suspect, is that yours truly was not just an honored guest of Mr. Ferry’s, but he himself passed along an invitation for me to join him and his entourage in Los Angeles. I’m still kicking myself for not accepting the gentleman’s kind and gracious offer.
But we’re here to herald what did go down; not what didn’t. And in addition to a stellar set that included many a Roxy Music nugget, as well as such staples as “Love is the Drug” and “Jealous Guy,” yours truly got to interview the living embodiment of cool not once but twice. The first chat was via telephone, for The Herald, while Ferry was in Warsaw preparing for a show. Rather than asking the usual muso questions, I turned the talk to art, specifically Ferry’s collection of Early British Moderns, and the work and wile of the recently-departed Lucian Freud. Ferry was obviously relieved to not have to answer the same-old, same-old, and he invited me to meet him face-to-face. Our second chat took place at The Fillmore, while Ferry was rehearsing his band, and it remains one of the highlights of my so-called life.
What capped the matter came about backstage the next night, after Ferry had floored the Fillmore crowd. For it was there where the best-dressed man in music applauded my attire. To meet a man like Bryan Ferry is one thing; to get the nod from him is quite another altogether. To have been blessed with both not only made my night — it made my year!
Urban Hunting
With Tamargo resigning his post at the World Erotic Art Museum in order to take on the Creative Director position at the renowned Royal/T in Culver City…
If 2011 is remembered for anything at all, art-wise, it’ll be remembered as the year Urban Hunter David Josef Tamargo turned his Urban Hunting into a bona fide phenomenon. Tamargo, a Miami-native who’s set his sword to some of America’s most mythic beasts, had not one but three simultaneous exhibitions — in New York, L.A., and right here in the MIA. That last show, at Wynwood’s benevolently keen Product/81 Gallery, put the perilous practice into a perspective those in the know knew it had all along. The show was the talk of the town; it was also a sell-out, in only the most righteous sense of the term. With Tamargo resigning his post at the World Erotic Art Museum in order to take on the Creative Director position at the renowned Royal/T in Culver City, Miami’s #1 (and only) Urban Hunter is undoubtedly destined for even greater good things to come. And while we will miss the man and his mayhem, we can only wish him the very, very best.
New Mainland Hangs
This year might also well be remembered as the year the Mainland finally got a few decent hangs of its own. Whether you’re more for NoDo’s The Corner, Midtown’s Ricochet, or Wynwood’s Wood, there’s no question your imbibing has reached another, more level level. Each of the three are bar bars, and each are truly unique to themselves. Add the daytime doings at Wynwood’s Panther Coffee, and one might think that conversation and good company have made a comeback. Let’s hope neither ever again goes away.
Miami Beach says no to gambling
As SunPost reported, the Miami Beach Commission unanimously voted to oppose gambling, not just on that fabled stretch of sand — but in the Sunshine State itself. And while many a vociferous word could be heard from the throngs in attendance, it was perhaps perennial gadfly Norman Braman who summed it all up best:
“I believe that casino gambling – and I’m not just talking about Genting and I’m not just talking about the Sands, or Mr. Trump or Mr Wynn, or any of them – is, frankly, an assault on the quality of life of this community, is about the best way to put it and to really invite casino gambling into this community, to me, it’s like inviting a disease that will only metastasize here,” Braman said.
Kinda hard to argue with coherent logic like that, no matter how many pies-in-the-sky you’ve been served.
Urban Beach Weekend
Do or or don’t we? If we do, does that make us racist? If we don’t, does that make us pansies or patsies or plain ol’ punks? The do would be to flip the script on Urban Beach Weekend and return the three-day holiday to its rightful place; that is, memorializing those worthy of Memorial Day. To don’t would be to allow the rampant and heretofore uncheckable madness to continue. The politically-correct (or at least those armed with the alarming symbols), would say this is a matter of black and white. Residents, who notoriously have to flee their own homes each and every M-Day would say it’s neither black nor white, but quality of life. Whatever the case, there’s yet to be a solution. And until there is, one way or another, Urban Beach Weekend will be the end-all of M-Day, at least for the residents of South Beach anyway.
Beach cops in trouble
Whatever happened to the good ol’ days when cops were cops and criminals were criminals and everyone knew which was which? Well, in Miami Beach, those days may be long gone. Kinda makes one long for the says when cops merely took a little something under-the-table and then looked the other way. At least then you knew who was zooming who. But as bad as a few apples proved to be, it’s no use calling the entire Department rotten. It’s unfair too. It might be good though if MBPD came up with a new way of getting to the core of the cops/criminals dichotomy.
Towing Wars
They are more hated than meter maids. More disparaged than drunk drivers. And in many cases more dangerous too. They are Beach Towing and Tremont Towing, unquestionably two of the least sympathetic entities in the history of Miami Beach. To see them at each others’ throats wasn’t a surprise; it was a delight. The only surprise was why they weren’t allowed to off each other once and for all. Neither Tremont nor Beach contributes to the quality of life. If anything, they detract from it significantly. And their feud over spaces and rates is besides the point. Better to rid the city of both companies of four-wheel terror and start from scratch. But not before both scratches out each others’ eyes, please.
NBA Lockout
Seems some humbugger didn’t dig the idea of The Miami Heat becoming the premiere team in all the league (as we’ve already clearly can see it will be). Why else would anybody vote for a lockout? Oh, you mean this NBC business affects other teams cities too? Not from this angle. Whether the blame lies with the owners or the players or a combination thereof, there’s no question that the abbreviated season is a result of haters hating. No matter. The Heat will simply have to do in 66 games what they would’ve done anyway — and that’s beat the hell outta everybody else. So there.
Causeways Construction
Leave it to Miami Beach to take two of three causeways outta commission during season — and at the very same time. Yes, MacArthur’s tunnel might well be a blessing (if it’s ever completed), and yes, the Venetian did need some improvements (a century’s worth of flooding does not lie). But to simultaneously undertake both major projects is ridiculousness compounded to the nth degree. Beachies don’t wanna leave because it takes forever to get back across from the Mainland; Mainlanders don’t wanna Beach because it takes forever to go either way. And the tourists, well, they’re stuck in traffic, still, muttering about how American ingenuity must certainly have been a myth.
Miami Dolphins
To watch the NFL’s sole unbeaten season team go without a single win in its first half of the season wasn’t simply a disappointment; it was devastating — for the team, for the fans, for business, and for Miami itself. We’re supposed to be a city of winners, not losers. And certainly not chronic losers. But lose we did. Over and over, again and again. Until all of a sudden we didn’t. And it was as if that first half of the season was simply a bad, bad dream. It wasn’t a dream of course; it was our worst nightmare. Now — thanks largely to Reggie Bush — it’s time to wake up. Okay, so there will be no real awakening until 2012. But hey, at least we can go back to bed with some wins swimming in our heads.
Vegas on the Bay
I may not be a City Planner, but I am the son of a career civil servant, and I’ve definitely got municipal blood coursing through my veins. More importantly perhaps — or at least equally so, anyway — my own, er, career largely consists of me pumping up much of what goes down in our town. Furthermore, I’m a native Miamian, and as such I’ve always believed our city was unique enough to have its own identity. So when someone starts yapping about us becoming a “Vegas by the Bay,” well, that’s when I reach for my revolver.
Now before you reactionaries have an adverse reaction, remember it’s just a figure of speech. Nevertheless, the implied violence behind the bullet-riddled bromide is clearly indicative of the ire that overcomes me when folks suggest we play copycat with another city. When said city itself is filled with fake facades of other, better cities (as Vegas increasingly is), I wanna swap the revolver for a chatter gun and blow the whole silly idea to pieces. Do we really wanna follow the lead of a city that doesn’t even know what it is anymore? I think not.
Worse is the scale of what Malaysia’s massive Genting Group is proposing for North of Downtown (NoDo), which will completely obliterate everything in its shadow, and that includes both the Arsht Center and the Miami Museum’s soon-to-be new digs. Folks went to a whole lotta trouble to land starchitects Cesar Pelli and Herzog de Meuron, so that Miami would at last be placed firmly on a world class map. Should we permit those great good efforts to be dwarfed by a bohemoth? Whether it’s indeed the world’s largest casino (which Genting is now claiming it not to be), a 10-million square foot, 5,200-room development is gargantuan. Period.
While I admire the boldness of the Genting’s vision, and I applaud the firm’s commitment to our city, we’ve worked too long and too hard on determining who and what we are to allow a single party to come in and remake our town in their image. I don’t care how singular it may be.
Now I’m not saying we shouldn’t have gambling; hell, I’m not even saying we shouldn’t have Genting. I’m just saying it should be developed proportionally — and for Zeus’ sakes, publicly. In my ideal world, Miami Beach would’ve voted in three casinos back in the mid-’90s — one on South Pointe, one at or near The Fontainebleau, and third up in Sunny Isles. That would’ve spread the wealth, distributed the congestion, and allowed a natural boom to take place in each neighborhood. And now we’d be making an informed decision about adding a casino to the Mainland. Okay, so it’s too late for that pretty picture to be painted. But that doesn’t mean we’ve gotta forsake the canvas.
Category: COVER
