The most popular club in New York is Guggenheim. It has it all: trans performers named after cocktails, live dolls, business people and fashion records wearing human hair dresses and acting surprised when asked about their outfit.
On Wednesday, the Guggenheim held a party for its young collectors, turning the iconic roundabout into a fictional “queer arena” and nightclub conceived by artists Jacolby Satterwhite and Tourmaline.
There were definitely elements of a disco: the lights flashed and DJ TT Britt played booming and brash music. But the effect was not entirely convincing. “I don’t know what they were thinking,” said artist publicist Alison Lopez, as she watched guests mingle under the surging house tracks. “I am confused.”
Others said it was exactly what they expected. “It’s like in the movies when they do an artsy event,” said Michael Alden Hadreas, who performed later that night under the stage name Perfume Genius. “I kept thinking about movies like ‘Look Who’s Talking,’ when a baby breaks loose at a party.”
The evening kicked off with an intimate dinner attended by performers like Rachel Rossin, patrons like Libbie Mugrabi (who wore a silver sequin bikini top), and art world royalty-in-waiting like Ísadóra Bjarkardóttir Barney, daughter of Björk and Matthew Barney.
By 10 p.m., they were joined at the after-party by hundreds of younger professionals in tie-less suits and little black dresses. A few outfits stood out.
Candice Saint Williams, an artist who gave her age as “I don’t know what time it is,” wore a Miss Claire Sullivan skirt made of long black human hair. “I love it because I feel like I’m a character; I feel like I’m in Beetlejuice,” she said. “And I put a hairbrush in my underwear.”
“It’s good to be back and seeing people,” said Elena Soboleva, 35, a sales director at David Zwirner Gallery, who wore a green maxi dress from The Vampire’s Wife. “It’s a British designer; she has this feminine goth revival.” Ms. Soboleva tried to leave to feed her 10-month-old baby, but misplaced her husband, who roamed the galleries admiring the Kandinsky exhibit.
On the so-called dance floor, a woman with a Maltese dog snarled “No!” when asked if the dog enjoyed the music.
After some speeches about LG’s new fund to support artists, Perfume Genius performed a song with choreographer Kate Wallich, both in pinstripe suits (his, Raf Simons; her, Christian Dior). A short film made by Mr. Satterwhite to accompany Perfume Genius’ upcoming album, “Ugly Season,” was projected onto the roundabout; it featured surreal scenes of a man being carried across lava lakes.
By midnight, the guests were making plans for after the party. Brad Mahlof, 33, a broad-chested real estate developer in a white Alexander McQueen shirt with a strap detail on the shoulder, was deciding whether to go to Paul’s Casablanca or Chelsea. Another group debated a sex party called High and Tight.
“I haven’t been to the Guggenheim since high school,” said Mr. Mahlov. “It’s pretty cool.”
