New York Celebrates The Whitney’s One-Year Anniversary in Lower Manhattan

Photos Courtesy: BFA/Zach Hilty

After leaving its longtime Upper East Side home in 2014, New York’s Whitney Museum of American Art relocated and reopened to Lower Manhattan in May of last year. Following a successful 365-day run in its new Meatpacking District home, the venerated Museum celebrated its one-year anniversary last night with a Studio Party, presented by Louis Vuitton.

The evening event honored Robert J. Hurst, who led the Whitney’s Board of Trustees throughout the Museum’s construction as the chair of the capital campaign. To commemorate Hurst, the Museum’s first floor filled with special guests—iconic photorealist Chuck Close, among them—as everyone sipped custom cocktails and enjoyed small bites.

Zen Freeman and Chelsea Leyland delivered DJ sets, as the crowd lounged in spaces designed by international furniture brand Roche Bobois and received temporary tattoos by Flatlands exhibition artists Nina Chanel Abney, Mathew Cerletty and Jamian Juliano-Villain, as well as Mirror Cells exhibition artists Liz Craft, Elizabeth Jaeger and Maggie Lee.


The Whitney Museum celebrates: the 2016 Annual Art Gala and Studio Party

The Whitney Museum celebrates: the 2016 Annual Art Gala and Studio Party

The Whitney Museum celebrates: the 2016 Annual Art Gala and Studio Party

The Whitney Museum celebrates: the 2016 Annual Art Gala and Studio Party

The Whitney Museum celebrates: the 2016 Annual Art Gala and Studio Party

The Whitney Museum celebrates: the 2016 Annual Art Gala and Studio Party

The Whitney Museum celebrates: the 2016 Annual Art Gala and Studio Party

The Whitney Museum celebrates: the 2016 Annual Art Gala and Studio Party

The Whitney Museum celebrates: the 2016 Annual Art Gala and Studio Party

The Whitney Museum celebrates: the 2016 Annual Art Gala and Studio Party

The New Whitney Museum as Social Network: Musings on Building, Crowd, and Views

Mark standing in front of Chuck Close’s Phil

If art is the lie that tells the truth, then there is something gorgeous about the new Whitney, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of revelation, as if it were related to an intricate algorithm that registers expression ten thousand miles away.

Renzo Piano has long responded to the vital moments when culture declares the inside out and the outside in, the uptown down and the downtown up. Perhaps more than any other architect, he has ably detected the nascent beats of emerging times and interpreted them as frozen music. Unfortunately, truly perceptive feats of association often linger unacclaimed until what has been made finally becomes music to everyone’s ears.

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WHITNEY HATERS GONNA HATE

Michael Kimmelman of the New York Times cleverly covers his paper’s tracks and leaves a trail of pebbles for later day backsies by saying that “buildings take time to reveal their true selves.” Nevertheless, he is determined enough to presently take the stance (presumably from a desk inside a Piano masterpiece) that “the new museum isn’t a masterpiece.”

And that’s nothing compared to what Justin Davidson does. The New York Magazine’s architecture critic slams the Whitney, barely stopping short of suggesting that it should be torn down and that the sanitation department next door should throw this baby out into its Hudson River bathwater.

We’re not exaggerating. Davidson bullies the newborn building. Big time.

He kicks off his scathing review with a swift Red Hook: “There’s nothing seamless about this awkward kit of protruding parts and tilting surfaces, though: The thing might have arrived in an Ikea flat pack and then been prodigiously misassembled.”

WHAT HATERS REALLY HATE IS THE WHITNEY’S POLYMORPHOUS PERMEABILITY

But what appears to anger him most (and, to be fair, many other old school critics who are too timid to say so) is precisely what we find so perceptive in this building: Piano’s sense that, in this mobile and social phase of the digital age, a museum must do more than provide a secluded space for “an intense communion with art.” Through his Whitney, Piano has voiced the position that museums may no longer (query if they ever did) simply serve as sanctified loci for unbroken sequences of successful bidirectional encounters between solemnly spectating subjects and serious aesthetic objects.

Piano plays this theme out with the Whitney’s sheer permeability. And it’s not just the civic permeability that Davidson mocks as the “panoramic version of an audio guide. Made right here!” Perhaps more importantly, it’s the social and natural and technological permeability, the spectacular permeability of digi-social personhood, of “social life, urbanity, invention, construction, technology, poetry, light–an immense rich bouillabaisse,” as Piano told the New Yorker; or, as a situationist quoting Guy Debord might aver, “the social relationship between people that is mediated by images”; or, as Kevin Systrom might snap, “Instagram!”

THE WHITNEY DEALS WITH OUR BOREDOM (WITH ART)

Davidson derides Piano for architecting a building that concedes the point that, in this age of infinite distraction, museum guests may grow bored when confronted with nothing but art, for hours on end, and that those guests may need to “rest,” by perhaps doing a bit of people watching, checking a mobile feed or fifteen, ripping a selfie, or gazing out onto what really is a killer view. Oh no, Davidson’s not going to let Piano get away with even a momentary sleight of sight; he ferociously pins Piano down to one of the his distractingly transparent walls and tunes him up with the charge that “The new Whitney is a wonderful place for people who get easily bored by art.”

Not to get all Millennial, but who doesn’t get bored by endless hours of nothing but art? Newsflash: it’s not just art. We’re all bored by lengthy, logically progressing sequentiality. We’re bored by long emails, long articles (like this one), long arguments, long essays, long speeches, long books, long plays, long stories, and, yes, long sentences. #BecauseInternet.

But our new state of omnipresent boredom is not the antithesis of engagement; it acts as the precondition for and the genesis of new (or newly prominent) forms of engagement: cacophonous, polymorphous, rhizomatic, dispersed, chaotic, dialogic, and perspectival engagement. Do you know what we find engaging, even for long stretches of time? The simultaneity, surprise, sensation and serendipity we discover in whole new worlds — and that’s why we’re addicted to social networks. And that’s why we love the Whitney’s world.

Long before the Internet, Saul Steinberg, the cartoonist whose Manhattan-centric wit partially inspired the building even happened to argue that boredom and creativity go hand in hand, “The life of the creative man is lead, directed and controlled by boredom. Avoiding boredom is one of our most important purposes.”

So we refuse to let Davidson and his pre-digital critical tribe pressure us into pretending that we don’t wonder what kind of cell phone signal we’d get in his “medieval room at the Met,” or that Breuer’s brutalism beams us “from the actual world into the [Wonkaesque world of pure] imagination.”

We’re not about to filter our gaze and muffle our ears to what Piano, his partners Mark Carroll, Elisabetta Trezzani, and the entire RPBW team have accomplished with this blessed new Whitney. We’re not about to qualify our superlative assessment. Perhaps because we’re impatient, we refuse to wait the years that Kimmelman claims a building needs to “reveal itself.” We refuse to wait a moment longer.

Though this may be hard to hear, we wish to hereby declare that the new Whitney is an unqualified masterpiece. Effective immediately.

THE WHITNEY INAUGURATES THE MUSEUM AS SOCIAL NETWORK #MSN

It’s not like we just got out hair done at Sally Hershberger by the amazing Travis, splurged on some Junya at Jeffrey, had a blast at the opening party with Sarah Jessica Parker and Dakota Fanning (who glowed in the sunset-lit galleries like a little angel in all-white Max Mara), stared at Solange like she was an exotic bird, tried to party with Betsey Johnson like it was the 80s, attempted to talk about the Diving Bell and the Butterfly with Julian Schnabel, and then cracked open iA Writer over tinis and lobster at Perry Street and declared this museum a masterpiece.

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Sarah Jessica Parker. Photo: BFAnyc.com

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Dakota Fanning. Photo: BFAnyc.com

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Solange. Photo: BFAnyc.com


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Betsey Johnson. Photo: BFAnyc.com

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Julian Schnabel. Photo: BFAnyc.com

Well, yeah, ok, we did do all that, but then we, like, woke up the next day and developed a thesis — and we will indeed argue it persuasively, logically and sequentially, Mr. Davidson (even as we admit that, yes, it may bore the bejesus out of many intelligent people in our generation who will close out of this screen, skip our polemics, and do something more engaging with their time, for which we refuse to blame them).

The new Whitney is not merely a museum. It is a new model for a museum: the museum as social network (#MSN). The #MSNWhitney, owing to the focus of its world, happens to be connected to asking and responding to the question of what is American Art (to paraphrase and co-opt Whitney’s chief curator Donna De Salvo). But the concept of an #MSN is bigger than any one question or any one museum world. It is the plausible now of the museum as such. It is the museum as the simultaneous experience of worlding.

When the Whitney last moved from downtown, uptown to Breuerville in 1966, Foucault had just finished The Order of Things. 2015 marks another watershed moment in the history of visible thought: Piano, who, lest we forget, put Lyotard’s postmodern condition on display in the Marais, is playing with us in a whole new way.

WE ❤️ YOU JERRY SALTZ (NOW PLEASE JUST AGREE AND RT)

Jerry Saltz wants to agree with us, even though his colleague, Justin Davidson, is our beloved building’s biggest bully. We heart Jerry Saltz almost as much as we hate the word “hermeneutics,” so it would mean so much to us if he took our side. And he’s already come out as a huge fan of new Whitney (though he punts on matters of architectural worth to Justin Davidson), but we believe that we can persuade him because we share the Saltzian conceptual analogy about how art is best experienced.

Saltz sees art as a synchronic, polyphonic conversation, whose rightful participants are the artists, the artworks, the characters and forces emerging from those artworks, the curators who dramaturgically stage and shape the whole shebang, and, of course, the visitors who — for 22 bucks a pop — get to step right up with their own curious worlds hanging out in full relief.

And that’s why Saltz dislikes the all those museumed screeches of starchitectural hubris. It’s so hard to hear what the art is saying when your venue keeps screaming its name like Daryl Hannah in Splash (and that’s true irrespective of whether teeming droves will pay a fee to see the mermaid). Naturally, Saltz dislikes the MoMA redesign because it privileges empty event space over additional evocative artworks. And he mocks the Stellaphilic conch Gehry has built in Bilbao, because it’s a place lacking in other rooms where other voices of art may properly converse.

Saltz sees the new Whitney as brilliant in its unobtrusive humility and spaciousness, but we wish to persuade him that it is in fact the manifestation of a profound new insight about how to frame the artversation in the mobile phase of the digital age, how to frame the world of art amidst the many distractions of the now.

We wish to suggest that calling it a great building because it’s unobtrusive is a bit like saying that Instagram is brilliant platform because it gets out of the way and just lets people share pictures. Like Instagram, the Whitney’s #MSN is a brand new medium, and a million subtle decisions go into building any successful social product. We believe that it is even more important to recognize this building’s greatness because those decisions are ultimately obscured by the careless impression of the bricoleur’s Sprezzatura.

Yeah, we just said that the Whitney is the Instagram of Museums. Which is to say that there’s no way to logically explain it (we’ll spare you talk of minimum viable museum products and rapid iteration) save to say that, like Instagram, it somehow strikes the right balance between action at a distance and tangible addiction, the personal and the social, and, in Newmanesque zips, it achieves the sublime heights of lyrical simultaneity.

SHINE BRIGHT LIKE A MEIER

Why did we end our first night at this museum at Perry Street wolfing down Cedric’s lobster? Because Richard Meier is the founding architect of Manhattan’s West Coast.

To him tribute must be paid. He deserves a shout out. That’s why, on Friday night, we poured a drop of our ‘tinis onto Sriracha-encrusted tuna.

Meier set the tone and established the idiom of Manhattan’s West Coast. White bright, light bright; he turned on the magic of shining light.

Before Piano’s Whitney set sail, before Gehry iglooed Barry Diller, before Nouvel shattered glass, Richard Meier landed on Perry Street at the turn of the Millenium.

And New Yorkers hated it. The reaction of all (save for Vincent Gallo) was something like, “He better Get-ty that California crap out of Gotham!” It was practically all anyone could talk about in that oh-so-innocent summer before 9/11.

And now look around! Save for one Stern brown reminder of superiority and absolute power, all the notable structures have embraced Meier’s pallet.

Guess who coined the term “Meiericity”? We’re often accused of neologisming all over the place, but it was not we. ‘Twas the Grey lady.

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GRACE NOTE

We couldn’t help but wonder why they let Frost title the inaugural exhibition “America Is Hard to See”? It’s a nice line ‘n all, but the poem itself is a biter screed against Christopher Columbus, “all he did was spread the room of enacting out the doom.” Now, we’re not saying that’s not true (and we wouldn’t disagree with Neil Young about Cortez being a killer) but icy metrical condemnation doesn’t capture the vibe of this new, big, light, contradictory, polymorphously permeable Whitney.

You know who’d better serve the inverted double sail, the persistent on-beating, against the current, of great gamma Gertrude’s art, busting and pulsing out of Experimental Jet Set’s fluctuating W, running faster, stretching farther…

It’s so obvious.

Walt Whitman:

“Do I contradict myself?

Very well then I contradict myself;

(I am large, I contain multitudes.)”

The opening exhibition should have been titled:
(I AM LARGE, I CONTAIN MULTITUDES)

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WHAT TO EXPECT WHEN THE NEW WHITNEY MUSEUM OPENS

All New York’s a Stage: Meatpacking District Then and Now

Considering the concentration of luxury hotels, boutiques, and glitzy nightclubs in Manhattan’s Meatpacking District, it’s difficult to image a time when there was actually a bustling meat market there, but Brian Rose has the photographs to prove it. In “Metamorphosis, Meatpacking District 1985 + 2013,” (opening July 15th at Dillon Gallery) Rose will exhibit a cache of historic and serendipitous photos of the neighborhood’s past life.

Until now, Rose had neither printed nor displayed the photographs he took in 1985. Observing the Meatpacking’s rebirth as a decadent nightlife and shopping hub, he knew he had an important trove.

“I was stunned to rediscover these images, made with little artifice, unforced in their clarity. It was like looking at New York as a stage set while the actors were away taking a break,” said Rose. For the exhibition Rose pairs the original photographs with images of the neighborhood in 2013, reproducing many of the street scenes from 1985. Although there is a neighborhood-specific focus to the show, the images lay bare the rapid and sometimes tumultuous changes that neighborhoods across New York City have experienced in recent years. Moreover, Rose comes across as an astute urban historian whose photographs captivatingly suspend cities in time.

“Metamorphosis, Meatpacking District 1985 + 2013” opens July 15th and will remain on view through August 15th.

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Washington and West 13th Street, 1985

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West 17th Street and Tenth Avenue, 1985

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Washington and West 13th Street, 1985

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Washington and West 13th Street, 2013

Actors Playhouse Nightclub Opens & Disappoints

I was invited to the Saturday night opening of Actors Playhouse, a club in what used to be the Actors Playhouse Theatre, 100 7th Ave. South right off of Christopher St. I had first seen the space  a couple of years ago when James Huddleston was considering it. James was hot off being the doorman of hotspot The Jane Hotel when the hip crowd couldn’t get enough of that space. For all the usual reasons, things didn’t pan out, and James found his gold over at Pravda. The Actors space he showed me was ancient wood, and had antique mirrors and a dressing room maze where people could easily get lost and then deliciously  found. At the time I thought it might be a winner. But a new crew has taken over the joint and they’ve paid no mind to the natural beauty of the room, opting to gut it and slick it out. It doesn’t work on any level.

I was told by attendee Joe "Viagra" Vicari that it was designed by Bluarch, which did Greenhouse and Juliet Supper Club. I didn’t much like either of those, but Greenhouse was affective. Juliet looked worn out way too soon. Anyway, design-wise Actors Playhouse looks like a cheap version of those. The biggest design crime was not embracing the assets the space offered; now it’s cold and lit up like a Coney Island attraction, and the flow is just awful. I could go on and on but my mother told me at dinner last night while we were discussing an entirely different matter that if you don’t have anything nice to say then don’t say anything. So I’m not going to say anything.

I will say that Joe Vicari and I have buried the hatchet after many years of wanting to hit each other with one.

Word comes that Matt Levine has grabbed the old Florent space in the Meatpacking. Florent was the in-place for the in-crowd, when they were still butchering cows where high-end clubs, restaurants, and boutiques now flourish.  Back before all that, it was the scenes last stop or – gasp – if you were real in and desperate you might get a bit of vodka in your coffee at 6am. Every ho, bro, and club employee would head there after all the chores were done for a good meal. Tables  werethisclose, and spying on the celeb and his date –  who were almost in your lap – became an art form. It was grand.

Nothing has worked in the space since Florent closed. Matt will come up with something. I have been told by a guy who should know that Matt snatched up the failed Merkato 55 space as well. Everyone in town is pushing and shoving to get an inch in the Meatpacking, and Matt lands two. He either is the wiliest of operators or paid too much. A combination of both is probably close to the truth, but then again what is too much for the area which has more foot traffic than anywhere, save Times, Herald, or Union Square. The Meatpacking District might soon be named the Cheesepacking District, but there still are outposts of elegance to entertain even a jaded old codger like me.

Pastis: Pioneering Meatpacking Eatery to Shut?

What’s to become of a Meatpacking District pioneering eatery? Pastis is a restaurant responsible for putting this high-end NYC neighborhood on the map. (Not literally – there’s city planners that actually do that.) In 1999, "Meatpacking pioneer" Keith McNally opened the restaurant’s doors – taking great pains to reproduce a 1930s Parisian brasserie; adorning the establishment with items found at overseas flea markets. People were happy. Children were smiling. Onion Soup Gratinee was served. Life seemed good…

Now the whip comes down; Pastis may be shutting it’s doors – and also closing once those doors are shut! This maneuver could take effect as early as January 1st; basically the restaurant is laying off 200 employees on that date; just read between the entrees to figure out what’s going on.

So last call on Seared Organic Salmon (with baby spinach); final orders on Moules Frites au Pernod ($23). Remember what Raymond Chandler once said: “To say goodbye is to die a little – and boy does Pastis serve a great Grilled Chicken Paillard!" Check please…

As Certain As Death & Taxes: These Top 10 NYC Guarantees

Benjamin Franklin once said, “Nothing is certain except death and taxes,” and while I do quite admire the man (where would we be without bifocals?) – he’s wrong. In NYC, there are many other things we can be 100 percent certain of. I’ve gathered a list of this city’s top 10 occurrences that are bound to happen. And if they don’t happen, then you know the world is ending and you don’t need to buy a new laptop and summer clothes.

The Top 10 NYC Guarantees

1.    During a torrential downpour, you will wait for a cab for 15 minutes on a street corner, and the first cab driver you hail down will tell you he’s miraculously “not going” where you are.

2.    On a weekday evening, you will somehow find yourself in Times Square, and will be suddenly struck with intense feelings of despair about your life and disgust for plaid, knee-high, “tourist” socks.

3.     On every day of the week, there will be a line of pancake-craving, agitated NYers furiously texting, awaiting tables at Clinton St. Baking Company.

4.     You will wear all black.

5.     When you really need to get to where you’re going, when it’s really important that you make it on time, you will be on the subway that’s “delayed because of train traffic ahead of us.”

6.     When you’ve spent weekends inside watching movies on Netflix, you will vow to become “more cultured,” buy a ticket to a Broadway musical that’s based on a movie or band, think it’s awful, and go home and watch Netflix.

7.     You will end up sitting next to and talking to someone who is incredibly influential and successful, exchange emails, think your life has changed forever, and never hear back from them again.

8.     You will trip and fall in your heels on the cobblestone Meatpacking streets outside 1 Oak and Le Bain, and panic that people think you’re from New Jersey.

9.     For three months starting June 1st, the city will smell like hot piss.

10.   On a sunny Saturday while strolling Chelsea Piers, you will have a moment of blissful clarity and gratitude that you live here – until a guy/tranny on a bike  runs into you and yells “watch out, asshole.”

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Boobs, Bubbles, and Beaumarchais

Most people know Beaumarchais for their wild brunch parties on the weekends that start soft and end up with dancing on the tables. Last night, though no one got higher than a chair, I was pleased to see Wednesdays are also hot, and that after 11pm, the swanky French restaurant turns into a mini nightclub.

This, of course, didn’t come on sporadically. The party fire was fueled by an unbelievably sexy and classy performance by a troop of burlesque dancers, courtesy of Dances of Vice, an entertainment and party organization run by vintage-goth Shien Lee. Every week these ladies tease the stage and audience with Nuit Blanche, their theme-based weekly show that runs from 9:30 to 11pm right in the middle of the dining room. This week we were treated to a Boardwalk Empire premise, flapper dresses, bee-stung lips, and feather boas included.

For guests it’s complimentary, though don’t be surprised if a foxy lady or two saunters over to your table, tassels shaking, and steals a kiss and sip of your Champaign. It’s all in good fun.

While your there, take a gander at the menu, the food, I was surprised to find, is actually high-class. True, executive chef David E Diaz makes dishes that are as exuberant as the space and vibe, but who doesn’t want to tuck into a plate of uber creamy gnocchi with truffle, a pot of lobster topped with caviar, or a classy crock of salmon tartare, roe included. Chase that down with their jalapeño-infused tequila cocktail, or a giant glass of Rioja, and you have got yourself a night to remember.

Photo by Ben Goldstein.

EMM Group’s FINALE Brings The Edge Back to NY Nightlife

FINALE, the long-awaited EMM Group entry at 199 Bowery on Manhattan’s Lower East Side, has finally opened – and it’s a game changer. This is a place created by a well-heeled, bottle sales-based group with creativity at its core. To those who pooh-pooh bottle service and blame it (and Rudy Giuliani) for all the terrible things that have ever happened to New York nightlife, I say pooh-pooh to you. Without bottle service, burgeoning rents, insurance, and salaries would have buried nightlife. The problem is that clubs banking for big bucks have catered to the bores with black cards, a scene that’s unbearable to the artistic set. FINALE embraces the downtown scene with performance types on staff, and bartenders and waiters dressed and ready to perform at the drop of a beat.

For far too long, entertainment in major nightclubs has consisted of little more than a forced smile from a wannabe model rushing through the crowd holding a fiery stick while a DJ plays tracks the rich dudes and their lady friends love to hear over and over again. But FINALE offers the hope that, in an effort to set themselves apart from the pack, operators will once again employ creative types to define their brands.

Back in 2007, The Box thought outside the box with its Did-I-just-see-that? brand of entertainment. For some, it went too far, but The Box is still there, and Sleep No More and other nightlife fringe concepts are bringing in creatives and spenders in equal measure. Their devotion to pushing downtown artistic programming has been justly rewarded. FINALE offers an opportunity for the public to expect even more. If it continues its success, other operators will follow its lead, and maybe the suits and ties will no longer dictate club programming. From my experience, once you start traveling towards the edge, a great deal of the public becomes interested and wants more.

EMM provides balance as they balance their bottom line. The artful mixing of downtown with the swells has worked for eons and is working at FINALE now. Plus, having a management team that’s in tune with the times helps.

Some words from the founders:

“Nightlife in New York is a bit stale at the moment—nothing new or different has opened in several years,” says co-owner Mark Birnbaum. “Both the timing and the new Lower East Side location of FINALE are perfect to attract new customers who don’t go to the Meatpacking District or Chelsea to eat and party, while bringing many of our current clientele along with us.”

“Moving down to the Bowery puts us in a unique position,” adds partner Eugene Remm. “Just as Bungalow 8 emerged on West 27th Street, and Lotus took root in the Meatpacking, we hope to be the first to bring an entirely new concept to the area. With this project, we break away from our current mold and create something entirely new on all fronts, from our music format to the location itself and the ways in which we can creatively program the entire space.”

Whether the big spenders will continue to be comfortable heading that far downtown to experience an increasingly weird mix of entertainment—and whether the creative set will keep emerging from their Brooklyn lofts to lend artistic authenticity to the nightlife venue—is far from certain. But with success stories like Abe & Arthur’s, CATCH, SL, and Tenjune in their portfolio, EMM’s Birnbaum, Remm, and partner Michael Hirtenstein are just the men to turn the mix into magic.

Industry Insiders: Meet Chris Hessney, EMM Group’s VIP Manager

Celebrity sightings are just a day in the life for Chris Hessney, the VIP Manager for EMM Group and their property CATCH, one of New York’s most exclusive seafood spots. “Since CATCH is a major destination, there’s a good chance you’ll spot a celebrity or ten dining at a table near you, a model, or a business executive of a company you’re a fan of.”

But more than the sightings, it’s the little moments that keep Hessney psyched about working at the Meatpacking District restaurant. “I love watching guests’ over-the-top reactions when we set the crispy whole snapper or the Cantonese lobster on their table,” he says. “Our one-year anniversary brought in over 800 groups of guests on a Monday night, which was an absolute blast.”

Top-notch New York food and hospitality has been the mainstay of Hessney’s career, where he was maitre’d at Morimoto, and manager of The Standard Grill. And it was at The Standard in 2008 where he first met EMM co-founders Eugene Remm and Mark Birnbaum. “EMM was the perfect next step for me,” Hessney says. “With them, the sky’s the limit.”

Find out CATCH chef Hung Huynh’s favorite app here.

Follow Bonnie on Twitter.