Say Ja! To turn
The phantom of Berghain takes us back to the night when fiction and reality were blended together in a fusion of everlasting hours, mysterious conversations and men in masks spent in Berlin´s locked down power stations.
The Vogue event snapshot photographer reveals the story about the screaming man in the wall, sexy top model Elsa Hosk, and the sudden raid by the NY police department.
their new club called Thrst, which suits me because I always
get thirsty and in the mood for mischief on Thursdays.
I arrived to Bakken at 9pm for a pre-party with free beer,
brownies and strong liquor slushies. Hip Hop, RnB, Trap,
Dancehall and Moombathon - the stage was set for some
heavy booty shaking and grinding on the dance floor.
The line-up was perfect. DJs covered in tattoos, an under-
ground hip-hop artist with a live act, and a sexy female DJ called Pixi set the perfect ambiance. The dance floor was packed with exited and happy people. The bartender staff and I were hitting the drinks – really getting in the mood for some madness.
the guys behind the bar are absolutely delicious, they drink, dance and never miss the opportunity to get captured on camera. Sometimes when I get in the mood I crawl up on the bar and dance like crazy, this was one of those nights. Girls with nice round booties were smashing it when the DJ switched it up to Moombahton. Some of them even had a cat fight trying to outshine each other's dance moves. The club was filled with really intriguing and beautiful girls, I always try to capture female sexiness - it gives me such a rush.
was a crazy blend of horny beautiful
people, amazing moments and
voluptuous dance. I don't think I've
ever seen crowd surfing on a
Thursday night before – an
unforgettable night captured by me.
– Miss Popo.
to remember made of? An evening by the foot of the Eiffel Tower? Dancing in a trendy club in Paris' 10th district? Binge drinking cocktails in an exotic bar? Going to an expensive concert and head banging?
options. But none of those ‘set-up-for-
seemed to cut it. The answer was
simple: the best moments are those that
are unexpected. The important thing is
not the place, nor what you’re doing,
but the people you're with.
friends and quickly organized an alternative version of a cocktail-
party in a large Paris apartment. What started out as a pretty chill and
laid-back evening with friends and a fire extinguisher, having a
couple of beers and hanging out, soon started to tippy-toe around
the border of what we call a memorable night.
Suddenly, as is often the case, the magic came in. Or more literally, a
dog with an oversized, multicolored straw collar began to dance.
That triggered the mayhem, and worked perfectly to get people
started. Bubbles and beers were everywhere. People were using
pans as drums and their heads as drumsticks. Before we knew it, it
was raining confetti, mustaches started to grow, everyone was
dancing, laughter burst, beer cans were flying, people were flying,
luchadores came on stage, girls were kissing – and dropping their tops.
seemed to end
started out with a few friends at a bowling alley. It was still early but for some reason
everybody there was really excited and quite tipsy all ready. All of a sudden the
dudes next to us started to punch each other. We shot some zombies in the game
room and then jumped on the underground to go grab some cocktails. It was
raining but we met some pretty cool, excited people on the way. While deciding to
take a cab to go to Kingsland Road the car broke down and the night took a whole
a great mood and decided to walk
towards a very special birthday party we
heard about. Before we knew it we were
being ushered into what looked like a
closed down pub. The bar was filled
with people and random creepy stuffed
animals. There was a stuffed polar bear
in the entrance, a huge tiger on top of
the bar and in the soundproof basement
we found a grizzly bear with an AK47.
This place was exactly what we had
been looking for and we had an amazing
time. Suddenly, at 5 pm, it came to an
end when the bouncer found us trying to
feed the animals with nuts from behind the
bar, and threw us out.
we met on the street now tipped us
off about a house party on the other side of the city. One of the men
from the bar, who also had been enjoying himself with the feeding of
the animals, said he could drive us there for £20. We jumped in his
car and he took us to the freaky after party where we stayed until
morning. I don’t really remember what happened at the end of the
night but the pictures I took tell me I had a pretty good time.
– Sam Hiscox
had an evocative
power over me. I like traveling around the world meeting new people on my free
time after a long day at work. I love to fly from one place to another, to one city to
another. Jump into a cab, like those yellow ones where I am right now, so different
from the white ones back in Milan. The only thing that is just the same is the feeling
and the smell of the leather.
it happens to be the week of fashion
in the big city, the big apple, here in New York. I don’t want to miss a
minute of it. I get to see new faces or old friends and party late into
the night, maybe even until dawn at some occasions. At those times
my thoughts are absolutely clear and I feel free. I love it. I smile and
dance all night long, I take photos of people around me, to remem-
ber. Even though I might not remember their names in the morning,
the memory of them will remain – in photos, and in my heart.
– Eleonora Carisi
at Berns in Stockholm and furnished it with an oversized ball pit, much like
the ones you bathed in at McDonalds as a child. We also invited Pom Pom
Parlour, a sparkly dungeon of extreme paraphernalia, to ensure spanking only
was done with luxurious, gold studded whips by bearers of questionable
leather masks. Most importantly, we invited a bunch of our most irresponsibly
deranged friends to give the term unforgettable the best possible chance of
permeating the night.
that in comparison
would portray The Texas Chainsaw Massacre as a "tranquil affair", we
shuttled our gang of drooling, half-naked, latex-covered party peeps
(with a pit stop to replace lost trousers in a vintage clothes container) to
a club named after the infamous New Orleans voodoo queen Marie
Laveau. Mostly because we dig the fact that they’ve covered their entire
basement in graffiti, but also because said basement is pretty dark, and
we hoped no one would notice the whole drooling component.
minutes/hours/days (who knows?) of dancing on all things
elevated, we steered our troops back towards Berns Gallery
2.35:1, a club basically unchallenged in pedigrees such as
ravey-ness, great music-ness, and open-till-fivey-ness in the
Swedish club scene. And luckily for us, Martin, a hospitable,
rock-n’-roll crazed World of Warcraft re-enactor with a fetish
for all things bloody, also found his way there – and was
unsurprisingly psyched on the idea of hosting our after party
at his place, despite the fact that his mom was in town,
sleeping in his guest room.
must be on some strong-beyond-prescription-
based sleeping pills because there were no limits to neither the level of noise, the
output frequency of the smoke-machine or the un-amount of clothes at this after party.
Martin is the guy in the last shot, we have no idea how he got that bloody. We think it
might have something to do with the pig armed with a crossbow?
taking photos at one
of my favorite clubs in Amsterdam, Trouw. Trouw is one of those places where
you can lose track of time and space. Therefore, I knew it was going to be
enervating, but this awesomeness I never expected. When I got there the party
was getting started and, unaware of what was yet to come, I did my usual
stuff. Saying “Hi!” to the stage manager, unpacking my gear backstage and
changing the settings of my camera from light to darkness. Walking to the
stage one of the crew members come to me with the question if I can take a
photo of the act before they come on stage.
the stairs to the basement
called ‘De Verdieping’ and
there I witnessed one of
the most disturbing things
in my 5 years of nightlife
photography. Hard Ton the
discoqueen, an act from
Venice, walks in and lies
down on one of the raw
Shocked and totally over-
whelmed by his hugeness
I swithed into auto-pilot and
took his picture. When I
came back to senses I knew
this was going to be a long
night without boundaries
and infinite inspiration.
– Iris Ooms
my camera is ready to capture all the great
moments that lay ahead. The question is, where
should I start my journey and what will the night
bring me? I decide to go to Bar Ludwig, a place
I like to call Amsterdam’s sex cave. In my
experience, it’s like Hell's Gates to a crazy night
out. Since DJs of tonight are some of
Amsterdam’s finest, my gut tells me things are
going to get pretty out of hand. Just as I
expected, the crowd goes mental and within the
hour the entire floor is packed with screaming,
pulsating bodies. The scent of seduction is in
the air; this night is going to end with trouble,
and only the very best kind.
clubbing I try to move around as much as
possible. I try to capture every moment
from a new perspective, as if projecting
myself into someone else's stream of
consciousness. Sometimes I find myself
befriending people I don’t even know in
the bathroom… at times it's awkward,
but it's often a huge success and usually
worth the gamble. The photogenic quality
of someone drinking casually on a sofa or
sharing a kiss is what I find exciting; what
makes me love night life photography.
I am shooting and dancing simultane-
ously, this is the good life. The women in
the bar are beautiful, and not at all shy.
subjects to shoot, but I need some variety. The Chicago Social Club is still open so I head to the
Leidseplein a.k.a. Entertainment Area – a place with a name like that is bound to deliver a good time.
I run in to Gianni Bab, who regularly works the door at the Chicago Social Club. Tonight he was chilling
with this girl, Ace Dia, also well known in the Amsterdam party scene. The camera loves the both of
them. The club is filled with people and I see a lot of familiar faces – good friends and a bunch of crazy
party people who love to get weird on the dance floor. There’s one guy whose trademark is to pull
down his pants in public (pretty great trademark if you ask me)…this time I got him on camera. Ha!
in every direction I look.
I feel like I’m in one of those Girls Gone Wild videos, except the confident
and sexy women and without the drunk teenagers – and you have my night in a
nutshell. Gotta love partying in Amsterdam.
– Dennis Branko
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