Kirill Bichutsky is the most prominent nightlife photographer in America. Virtually every night of the week, Kirill’s job sends him to the most exclusive nightclubs photographing unapologetic celebrities and beautiful party revelers. So when it came time to head down to Florida for Miami Music Week and Ultra Music Festival, MTV News was happy to have him as part of the team. His complete works can be found at Kirillwashere.com.
Another day and yet another pool party — this time I headed over to the Surfcomber, where I made it into the DJ booth to escape the sea of fake boobs and sweaty dudes. If you weren’t at Ultra, this is where you had to be — Kaskade, Luciano, Pete Tong, Afrojack, Sharam, Felix da Housecat, James Zabiela and I’m sure others showed up to hang and spin, but I quickly wore out my welcome in the booth.
I wasn’t too happy with the photos of the actual party, so I figured it was time to move on. I was quickly saved by a table of NYers that were fans of my work and my tacky taste for sloppy chicks and they insisted I shoot their girls. Several tastefully slutty photos and too many man hugs later, I was off to my hotel for a quick nap.
Earlier in the week, I got a tip that FG DJ Radio (a famous French radio station) was throwing a private party with Bob Sinclair and some surprise special guests — oh, and free booze, so this would become my pre-game spot. What went from a listening session turned into a full-on party — Bob Sinclar managed to get this party popping. I wish I could’ve stayed longer, because rumor had it David Guetta was stopping by, but it was midnight already and I had one more stop left.
I headed to the Florida Room, where NYC nightlife mega-party promoters Joe Messina and Ernie Capone (setting their romantic differences aside) had skirted Ultra’s exclusivity by bringing Avicii to this basement club below the Delano hotel.
Inside, the party was in full swing, with DJ PS1 christening the tables before Avicii absolutely destroyed the room. It felt like a true basement house party, with everyone abandoning their tables to rage in front of the DJ booth.
Somehow, Avicii’s flash drive popped out and fell to the floor, causing the biggest panic I’ve ever seen in a DJ booth. Luckily we found them, nearly trampled by a stampede of stilettos. After three hours of partying and bottles of tequila to the head (courtesy of my boy Tattoo and the fine folks at Morgans Hotel Group), I finally stumbled back to my hotel room to sleep before what awaits me on Saturday: Swedish House Mafia’s Masquerade Motel!