photos ISLAS BALEARES
Las Islas Baleares
Almost two years to the date, I finally found myself boarding a flight to return to Ibiza at last!
We arrived to an absolutely torrential downpour, the likes of which Ibiza has not seen in a long while from my understanding. I traversed streets that had turned to rivers and despite wearing 4" heels was still soaked up to the ankle. A very depressing welcome indeed.
Drenched and tired, we rested up Friday night for the weekend ahead, hoping and praying for a bit of sun, which we ended up receiving, in spades.
Formentera
After a quick, and per tradition, standing, breakfast of Pan con Tomate and a nice stiff and sweet cafe con leche, we rushed to catch the ferry to Formentera to spend our Saturday carelessly bouncing from beach to cliff and back again in our rented jeep.
As usual, Formentera's powerful vistas and tranquil energy refueled me in ways that no other place can. It's absolutely peaceful and gorgeous and there's nothing quite like driving through the stark roads flanked by date trees, coming over a hill, and being absolutely floored by the view ahead. Perfection! Undoubtedly one of my favorite places on earth.
Privilege & Pacha
Saturday night a friend of a friend was playing the didgeridoo alongside a local DJ at Privilege, so we spent a few hours there then closed the night at Pacha.
I had never been to Pacha Ibiza, and it truly is an impeccable venue. David Morales and Satoshi Tomiie rocked a very expat (read: British) crowd while beautiful dancers and performers rounded out a pretty calm first night on the dancefloor.
Las Salinas
Sunday we headed out to Las Salinas to enjoy Sa Trinxa. Fantastic.
Las Salinas is a kilometer long beach at the southeast tip of the island. Crowded with families on one end, the northernmost edge is home to Sa Trinxa, home of chilled out music, scantily clad sunbathers recovering from a night out at the clubs, and a shady and breezy chiringuita for drinks and everything ranging from fresh salads to roast chicken.
Sa Trinxa of course boasts great people watching. The chill Balearic beats were accompanied by a live sax player who came out every hour or so...by his last appearance before the sunset, the energy had risen and an impromptu dance party on the sand had begun to form. The perfect relaxing day, Sa Trinxa allows you to refuel then warm up for the night ahead.
Read more »
We arrived to an absolutely torrential downpour, the likes of which Ibiza has not seen in a long while from my understanding. I traversed streets that had turned to rivers and despite wearing 4" heels was still soaked up to the ankle. A very depressing welcome indeed.
Drenched and tired, we rested up Friday night for the weekend ahead, hoping and praying for a bit of sun, which we ended up receiving, in spades.
Formentera
After a quick, and per tradition, standing, breakfast of Pan con Tomate and a nice stiff and sweet cafe con leche, we rushed to catch the ferry to Formentera to spend our Saturday carelessly bouncing from beach to cliff and back again in our rented jeep.
As usual, Formentera's powerful vistas and tranquil energy refueled me in ways that no other place can. It's absolutely peaceful and gorgeous and there's nothing quite like driving through the stark roads flanked by date trees, coming over a hill, and being absolutely floored by the view ahead. Perfection! Undoubtedly one of my favorite places on earth.
Privilege & Pacha
Saturday night a friend of a friend was playing the didgeridoo alongside a local DJ at Privilege, so we spent a few hours there then closed the night at Pacha.
I had never been to Pacha Ibiza, and it truly is an impeccable venue. David Morales and Satoshi Tomiie rocked a very expat (read: British) crowd while beautiful dancers and performers rounded out a pretty calm first night on the dancefloor.
Las Salinas
Sunday we headed out to Las Salinas to enjoy Sa Trinxa. Fantastic.
Las Salinas is a kilometer long beach at the southeast tip of the island. Crowded with families on one end, the northernmost edge is home to Sa Trinxa, home of chilled out music, scantily clad sunbathers recovering from a night out at the clubs, and a shady and breezy chiringuita for drinks and everything ranging from fresh salads to roast chicken.
Sa Trinxa of course boasts great people watching. The chill Balearic beats were accompanied by a live sax player who came out every hour or so...by his last appearance before the sunset, the energy had risen and an impromptu dance party on the sand had begun to form. The perfect relaxing day, Sa Trinxa allows you to refuel then warm up for the night ahead.
We Love Sundays at Space
After changing and eating, we walked over to the legendary Space nightclub to catch the closing parties of We Love. We went straight to Discoteca for Jeff Mills the music was very Detroit, a little too technical and lacking soul, so we moved to the Terraza. I was devastated to have missed Ben Watt, but we caught the end of Paul Woolford, then Steve Lawler who really laid it down. A bit formulaic in the builds, but who cared??
The set was everything Ibiza is and should be - high energy and absolutely banging. Not a frown in the place. We only stayed a few hours as I really wanted to get in a real nights' sleep before Monday's debauchery, so as you can imagine, it was still packed and throbbing as we headed back to our apartment in Playa d'en Bossa.
Playa D'en Bossa and Monday in Ibiza
Monday I woke up nice and early to hit the bakery and sure that the troops had the proper sustenance for the day that awaited us.
Monday in Ibiza! As I told my partner in crime Gracie (an Ibiza virgin), Mondays truly never are the same once you have experienced how they celebrate the beginning of the week in the Balearic Isles...
We spent a couple hours at Playa d'en Bossa enjoying the sun, sand and warm water and caught the beginning of Bora Bora - the music starts pumping at 4:30 on the nose - before changing and heading out.
Circo Loco at DC-10
Circo Loco remains one of my favorite parties of all times. I can not explain how happy I am that we were able to make it in its few active weeks, especially considering they were just shut down (again, this time for a full year) before they had the opportunity to host their season closing party.
Subject to ongoing battles with the local municipality and arduous searches of partygoers by the guardia civil, DC10 has really borne the brunt of the recent movement to calm the island down, and contain the partying. New and strictly adhered to hours and a strong clamp on DC10 have definitely brought a cloud over the sunny, carefree atmosphere that typically characterizes Ibiza.
To be perfecly honest, there's no question why DC10 is such a target. A veritable carnival, the characters, music, debauchery and energy are well beyond the realm of a calm or controlled party environment. But hey, that's the attraction. Freewheeling costumed individuals closing out Monday's sunlight hours with airplanes roaring overhead and largely techno beats - is there really anywhere more removed from the reality of a Monday?!
Team Loco (we brought the team uniforms from 2006 back!) caught Timo Maas and Tania Vulcano on the terrace then headed inside to chill in the lounge area. The dark and dirty beats lured us to the dancefloor immediately. DC10 might be the only place I can accept sweating it out on a packed dark dancefloor to music that dark before the sun even sets. With a tear in my eye, knowing full well that I may never see DC10 open again, I tore myself away well before the party ended in order to avoid the crowds at Amnesia.
Cocoon Closing at Amnesia
A quick change and shower and we hit Cocoon's closing party at Amnesia, another mega club with the drink prices to show for it. Comprised of two massive rooms, it was packed to the roof.
Armed with our inflatable picture frames, I spent the night snapping portraits of the cast of characters dancing the night away, probably 100 portraits, all told! Sven Vath and Ricardo Villalobos absolutely destroyed and we eventually called it quits after almost 12 hours of dancing and stumbled into a cab sweaty, exhausted, and unable to take another step.
All in all, a truly fulfilling, tiring and perfect weekend escapade!
Stay tuned as I will be closing out October with trips to London, Berlin, Paris and Amsterdam!
After changing and eating, we walked over to the legendary Space nightclub to catch the closing parties of We Love. We went straight to Discoteca for Jeff Mills the music was very Detroit, a little too technical and lacking soul, so we moved to the Terraza. I was devastated to have missed Ben Watt, but we caught the end of Paul Woolford, then Steve Lawler who really laid it down. A bit formulaic in the builds, but who cared??
The set was everything Ibiza is and should be - high energy and absolutely banging. Not a frown in the place. We only stayed a few hours as I really wanted to get in a real nights' sleep before Monday's debauchery, so as you can imagine, it was still packed and throbbing as we headed back to our apartment in Playa d'en Bossa.
Playa D'en Bossa and Monday in Ibiza
Monday I woke up nice and early to hit the bakery and sure that the troops had the proper sustenance for the day that awaited us.
Monday in Ibiza! As I told my partner in crime Gracie (an Ibiza virgin), Mondays truly never are the same once you have experienced how they celebrate the beginning of the week in the Balearic Isles...
We spent a couple hours at Playa d'en Bossa enjoying the sun, sand and warm water and caught the beginning of Bora Bora - the music starts pumping at 4:30 on the nose - before changing and heading out.
Circo Loco at DC-10
Circo Loco remains one of my favorite parties of all times. I can not explain how happy I am that we were able to make it in its few active weeks, especially considering they were just shut down (again, this time for a full year) before they had the opportunity to host their season closing party.
Subject to ongoing battles with the local municipality and arduous searches of partygoers by the guardia civil, DC10 has really borne the brunt of the recent movement to calm the island down, and contain the partying. New and strictly adhered to hours and a strong clamp on DC10 have definitely brought a cloud over the sunny, carefree atmosphere that typically characterizes Ibiza.
To be perfecly honest, there's no question why DC10 is such a target. A veritable carnival, the characters, music, debauchery and energy are well beyond the realm of a calm or controlled party environment. But hey, that's the attraction. Freewheeling costumed individuals closing out Monday's sunlight hours with airplanes roaring overhead and largely techno beats - is there really anywhere more removed from the reality of a Monday?!
Team Loco (we brought the team uniforms from 2006 back!) caught Timo Maas and Tania Vulcano on the terrace then headed inside to chill in the lounge area. The dark and dirty beats lured us to the dancefloor immediately. DC10 might be the only place I can accept sweating it out on a packed dark dancefloor to music that dark before the sun even sets. With a tear in my eye, knowing full well that I may never see DC10 open again, I tore myself away well before the party ended in order to avoid the crowds at Amnesia.
Cocoon Closing at Amnesia
A quick change and shower and we hit Cocoon's closing party at Amnesia, another mega club with the drink prices to show for it. Comprised of two massive rooms, it was packed to the roof.
Armed with our inflatable picture frames, I spent the night snapping portraits of the cast of characters dancing the night away, probably 100 portraits, all told! Sven Vath and Ricardo Villalobos absolutely destroyed and we eventually called it quits after almost 12 hours of dancing and stumbled into a cab sweaty, exhausted, and unable to take another step.
All in all, a truly fulfilling, tiring and perfect weekend escapade!
Stay tuned as I will be closing out October with trips to London, Berlin, Paris and Amsterdam!
Spanish Desert
My first roadtrip in Spain!
I packed miss Lola up into the rental and hit the road, heading east towards Zaragoza.
About two hours later the terrain became mountainous and we veered north towards the quaint town of Tudela. As it was a holiday, the city was entirely deserted save for a few revelers, dressed in the traditional all white with a smart red bandana around their neck, scrambling towards the town's main square. I didn't stay long enough to watch the celebrations, but suffice it to say that no one left that square still donning a crisp white outfit.
From the stragglers back at the hotel later that evening one can only surmise a lot of festive toasting with red wine took place all afternoon and into the evening in honor of the festival. (Someone still needs to explain the buckets, however??).
I instead elected to head into the Bardenas Reales, the real reason I traversed one of the most desolate and boring bits of Spanish highway (though I can not deny being continually charmed by the black bull signs and windmills dotting the landscape as far as the eye can see!). Lured by its unique and quasi-desert landscape, I was intrigued to see the famed rock formations hidden in the barren and somewhat unwelcoming landscape.
Best experienced by bicycle or on foot, there are only a select number of roads a car can take to cut through the lunar landscape. Winding down into valleys, I was quite taken by the beautiful plateaus and breathtaking and massive naturally formed limestone sculptures that have been slowly carved by erosion over time.
The Hotel Aire de Bardenas, a relatively new addition to the landscape, serves as a fantastic and contemporary frame for its expansive surroundings. Featuring 20 some odd rooms, each boasts a beautiful and minimally designed feature - whether an outdoor tub, private garden, patio with seemingly unending vistas across the expanse, or bathrooms with open showers - from which to better appreciate and connect with the stark and impressive surroundings.
When meandering the peaceful stone paths between buildings, one has the opportunity to emjoy glimpses of masterfully framed views of the landscape, not to mention meet your neighbors, most of whom spend time lounging with doors open taking in as much of the surroundings as possible.
The restaurant frames views of a private allotment teeming with local vegetables, and during breakfast you can sip your coffee while watching the gardener contemplate what you will be able to delight in for your dinner.
While I sadly left my camera behind, my holga managed to capture a nice sense of the combination of arid silence and blinding sun that left me driving back to Madrid contemplating my brief trip through this singular and humbling slice of Spain's countryside.
Read more »
I packed miss Lola up into the rental and hit the road, heading east towards Zaragoza.
About two hours later the terrain became mountainous and we veered north towards the quaint town of Tudela. As it was a holiday, the city was entirely deserted save for a few revelers, dressed in the traditional all white with a smart red bandana around their neck, scrambling towards the town's main square. I didn't stay long enough to watch the celebrations, but suffice it to say that no one left that square still donning a crisp white outfit.
From the stragglers back at the hotel later that evening one can only surmise a lot of festive toasting with red wine took place all afternoon and into the evening in honor of the festival. (Someone still needs to explain the buckets, however??).
I instead elected to head into the Bardenas Reales, the real reason I traversed one of the most desolate and boring bits of Spanish highway (though I can not deny being continually charmed by the black bull signs and windmills dotting the landscape as far as the eye can see!). Lured by its unique and quasi-desert landscape, I was intrigued to see the famed rock formations hidden in the barren and somewhat unwelcoming landscape.
Best experienced by bicycle or on foot, there are only a select number of roads a car can take to cut through the lunar landscape. Winding down into valleys, I was quite taken by the beautiful plateaus and breathtaking and massive naturally formed limestone sculptures that have been slowly carved by erosion over time.
The Hotel Aire de Bardenas, a relatively new addition to the landscape, serves as a fantastic and contemporary frame for its expansive surroundings. Featuring 20 some odd rooms, each boasts a beautiful and minimally designed feature - whether an outdoor tub, private garden, patio with seemingly unending vistas across the expanse, or bathrooms with open showers - from which to better appreciate and connect with the stark and impressive surroundings.
When meandering the peaceful stone paths between buildings, one has the opportunity to emjoy glimpses of masterfully framed views of the landscape, not to mention meet your neighbors, most of whom spend time lounging with doors open taking in as much of the surroundings as possible.
The restaurant frames views of a private allotment teeming with local vegetables, and during breakfast you can sip your coffee while watching the gardener contemplate what you will be able to delight in for your dinner.
While I sadly left my camera behind, my holga managed to capture a nice sense of the combination of arid silence and blinding sun that left me driving back to Madrid contemplating my brief trip through this singular and humbling slice of Spain's countryside.
Orgullo en Madrid
Despite having attended gay pride parades in other cities, I could not have ever been prepared for the breadth, scope and energy surrounding the festivities for Gay Pride in Madrid.
While gay pride festivals and parades are never exclusively attended by any one segment of society, Madrid's event was far and away the most diverse and heavily attended I've had the opportunity to witness.
Gay couples in costume, straight men brandishing rainbow flags, children atop their parents' shoulders squirting transvestites and cross-dressers with water guns, and people fanning themselves with rainbow flags featuring everything from club advertisements to McDonald's logos made up a colorful and blurry pastiche of revelers throughout the parade.
To take a step back, I began to witness the beginnings of preparations on Tuesday night. Throughout Chueca, the traditionally gay center of Madrid, bars began building outdoor service areas, public employees began stringing rainbow flags across the streets, and stages were slowly erected in every plaza.
By Wednesday night, the party had begun. The streets were teeming with people drinking and building the anticipation for Saturday's parade for three nights in a row. Dancing, drinking, singing in the streets was prevalant for a full five days straight.
On the day of the parade, a friend and I went to my office to watch the beginning from the terrace. We then ran made our way to the street to join the party on Gran Via...where we found a good corner to be spectators for a bit.
Not long afterwards, the LOVE BALL bus came along. Led by a diva in a black thong, they were far and away playing the best music, so we hopped into the parade and danced all the way down Gran Via to techno for three hours.
After a quick shower and change, we hit the plazas. The streets were absolutely packed and almost impossible to maneuver, but after watching a tranny stageshow from my friend's balcony, we managed squeeze ourselves into a space in Chueca's main plaza and dance the night away in the heat of one of Madrid's most energetic summer nights...
Read more »
While gay pride festivals and parades are never exclusively attended by any one segment of society, Madrid's event was far and away the most diverse and heavily attended I've had the opportunity to witness.
Gay couples in costume, straight men brandishing rainbow flags, children atop their parents' shoulders squirting transvestites and cross-dressers with water guns, and people fanning themselves with rainbow flags featuring everything from club advertisements to McDonald's logos made up a colorful and blurry pastiche of revelers throughout the parade.
To take a step back, I began to witness the beginnings of preparations on Tuesday night. Throughout Chueca, the traditionally gay center of Madrid, bars began building outdoor service areas, public employees began stringing rainbow flags across the streets, and stages were slowly erected in every plaza.
By Wednesday night, the party had begun. The streets were teeming with people drinking and building the anticipation for Saturday's parade for three nights in a row. Dancing, drinking, singing in the streets was prevalant for a full five days straight.
On the day of the parade, a friend and I went to my office to watch the beginning from the terrace. We then ran made our way to the street to join the party on Gran Via...where we found a good corner to be spectators for a bit.
Not long afterwards, the LOVE BALL bus came along. Led by a diva in a black thong, they were far and away playing the best music, so we hopped into the parade and danced all the way down Gran Via to techno for three hours.
After a quick shower and change, we hit the plazas. The streets were absolutely packed and almost impossible to maneuver, but after watching a tranny stageshow from my friend's balcony, we managed squeeze ourselves into a space in Chueca's main plaza and dance the night away in the heat of one of Madrid's most energetic summer nights...
48 Hours in London
One last minute decision and a few Euros later, and I found myself boarding an EasyJet flight to London to reunite with friends from across the globe for a quick and intense weekend of art, architecture, and music.
Blessed with stunning weather, my partner in crime and I traversed several neighborhoods in London over the course of ten hours on Saturday.
For the first stop, I made my first ever visit to the Tate Modern, where I delighted in the massive scale of outdoor murals, enjoyed an exhibit dedicated to the history of urban street photography, determined that Cy Twombly drastically improved his art over the course of his career, and dramatically restrained myself from buying anything in the expansive and overstimulating design shop.
Afterwards we headed to the Hayward Gallery to see the Psycho Architecture exhibit. The installations all had a fresh, very personal and sometimes complicated take on architecture and what buildings and spaces represent. Many of the pieces played with the way that architecture shapes and is shaped by what we see, and, in the end, frames the way we think and experience space. Destruction and dismantling of the order normally associated with buildings was a current throughout, bringing a sense of chaos and provoking a new sensibility of structure.
My favorite was far and away Fallen Star 1/5, by Do ho Suh. It featured two meticulously detailed dollhouse structures, one representing his Korean home and the other his US home, crashing into one another, and the ensuing destruction and uncomfortable intermingling of the two cultures. Pictures will obviously not do it any justice, so I highly recommend a visit.
The roof of The Hayward featured several playful experiences. With a little patience (there were long lines) one could hop into a rowboat for a rooftop drift with impeccable views of London's skyline, lounge in an inflated geodesic dome, or relax in a beautifully crafted temporary rooftop theater and watch short films.
After a walk across the Thames and a quick spin around Covent Garden, we met up with a friend from Paris to rest our feet and enjoy an afternoon drink, sped through Soho, and headed home to rest our feet for a night of dancing at Fabric.
The highlight was Ricardo Villalobos' set - a DJ who I have not had the pleasure of experiencing live as he has a self-imposed boycott on playing in the United States.
A true master in the art of surprise, arcs, and builds, to merely say he has a sense of timing is a gross oversimplification. His long, drawn out and tantalizing builds toy with you and can sometimes be maddening until finally culminating - and always delivering.
His exactitude in working in his mids, kicks and bass keeps you thinking and alert for the duration of his set...waiting to see where he'll take it next, keeping you moving, and leaving you in a state where you constantly feel at the precipice of what's to come.
When you add the skillful layering of acoustical arrangements, sparse and sneaky vocal samples, guitar riffs, and jazz melodies, one can say that he has developed a fully rounded brand of techno that largely dismisses any and all criticisms of the genre with unarguable finesse.
A successful reunion with several friends from New York, a photo shoot with an inflatable picture frame, and six hours of dancing later, we hopped a car for a well-deserved night of sleep.
A million and one thanks goes out to Colleen for coordinating our sleeping arrangements and Emily Chang for graciously offering her flat to us and letting us enjoy life on a quaint residential street in Kensington Gardens for a very memorable weekend.
Read more »
Blessed with stunning weather, my partner in crime and I traversed several neighborhoods in London over the course of ten hours on Saturday.
For the first stop, I made my first ever visit to the Tate Modern, where I delighted in the massive scale of outdoor murals, enjoyed an exhibit dedicated to the history of urban street photography, determined that Cy Twombly drastically improved his art over the course of his career, and dramatically restrained myself from buying anything in the expansive and overstimulating design shop.
Afterwards we headed to the Hayward Gallery to see the Psycho Architecture exhibit. The installations all had a fresh, very personal and sometimes complicated take on architecture and what buildings and spaces represent. Many of the pieces played with the way that architecture shapes and is shaped by what we see, and, in the end, frames the way we think and experience space. Destruction and dismantling of the order normally associated with buildings was a current throughout, bringing a sense of chaos and provoking a new sensibility of structure.
My favorite was far and away Fallen Star 1/5, by Do ho Suh. It featured two meticulously detailed dollhouse structures, one representing his Korean home and the other his US home, crashing into one another, and the ensuing destruction and uncomfortable intermingling of the two cultures. Pictures will obviously not do it any justice, so I highly recommend a visit.
The roof of The Hayward featured several playful experiences. With a little patience (there were long lines) one could hop into a rowboat for a rooftop drift with impeccable views of London's skyline, lounge in an inflated geodesic dome, or relax in a beautifully crafted temporary rooftop theater and watch short films.
After a walk across the Thames and a quick spin around Covent Garden, we met up with a friend from Paris to rest our feet and enjoy an afternoon drink, sped through Soho, and headed home to rest our feet for a night of dancing at Fabric.
The highlight was Ricardo Villalobos' set - a DJ who I have not had the pleasure of experiencing live as he has a self-imposed boycott on playing in the United States.
A true master in the art of surprise, arcs, and builds, to merely say he has a sense of timing is a gross oversimplification. His long, drawn out and tantalizing builds toy with you and can sometimes be maddening until finally culminating - and always delivering.
His exactitude in working in his mids, kicks and bass keeps you thinking and alert for the duration of his set...waiting to see where he'll take it next, keeping you moving, and leaving you in a state where you constantly feel at the precipice of what's to come.
When you add the skillful layering of acoustical arrangements, sparse and sneaky vocal samples, guitar riffs, and jazz melodies, one can say that he has developed a fully rounded brand of techno that largely dismisses any and all criticisms of the genre with unarguable finesse.
A successful reunion with several friends from New York, a photo shoot with an inflatable picture frame, and six hours of dancing later, we hopped a car for a well-deserved night of sleep.
A million and one thanks goes out to Colleen for coordinating our sleeping arrangements and Emily Chang for graciously offering her flat to us and letting us enjoy life on a quaint residential street in Kensington Gardens for a very memorable weekend.
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