The Flower Shop

First up, how did you guys meet?

R We actually met at high school, blur many years later we decided to partner up in the middle of a strange Miami Art Basel trip 3 years ago.

Why the name?

R In small towns, The Flower Shop is traditionally where you got all the gossip, the inside word around town. So we wanted to create the same thing, you make friends, share stories and that's a community built around it. Also, a lot of things designed in here are contributions and collaborations with friends, so we're trying to build a local community that will leave people with a good story at the end of the day.

You’ve only been open a few weeks but your basement has already developed a reputation for being “a man cave” despite your name being The Flower Shop. What's the story?

D We would like to think of it as a hangout spot, not a man cave!

R I'd like to think that the flower shop is a lot of things to a lot of people.

The interior screams “home comforts” and there is clearly a specific vision here. How did you design the space in a very specific way without it coming off as a novelty place?

D We were meticulous and frankly obsessed with the design and deco process but never cautious or worried about it feeling like too much of a novelty.

R Yeah, I agree. As we designed it we broke down the place section by section, running with a gut feeling. We wanted something homey and safe, a place that reminded you of your home. We like the idea of places that we grew up around in Australia like pubs, people's basements, house parties, grandma's house and we put that all together. Once we shared all our ideas for this space we always brought it back to "what would you do if it was in your home?". Every design element was laid out on the table as we went along and decisions were made based off of the idea of staying really true to the certain eras that we referenced, which was very much instinctual. A lot of it felt almost ugly but once it all came together it's charming. Luckily.

It feels “Old-school Americana” but you’re all Australian. Where did that idea come from?

D A lot of inspiration came from mid-western, 70s America. Our main buzzwords were nostalgia, comfort and cheeky when thinking of the design, I think all of those translate internationally.

R We were trying to create a place that is an escape from New York, something that didn't necessarily need to feel like you're in New York. A lot of these places are designed to be for New York but a lot of is living here are like orphans in this city but everyone can relate to their local pub etc. You would be surprised how many great old style pubs and bars still exists in Australia and any Aussie readers will realize that we took some inspiration from old RSL and Bowling clubs. Even my grandpa's best friend had a basement just like The Flower Shop!

I read that you want The Flower Shop to be a place people can go to if they don’t want to queue, be on a list, DJs, doormen etc - zero pretentious. Why does that work for some places and why do you think not having it will work here?

D We lean on our food, ambiance and our base crowd of friends and clients to help us ensure it's a great venue. Above all, we rely on ourselves/each other to make sure it's the best in every way. From a strategic perspective, we just want to create a timeless spot for the next ten years that people will just come - like The Spotted Pig.

R We share the idea of having our own version of "Cheers". Simply, this is a place for people to come and feel at home in. A local joint for everyone. We learned that while all of (the above) does work, it doesn't last long. It's a cool thing for a second (*inverted commas around cool) but we also know how it can work against you and so we just wanted to do something totally different. At the end of the day - and hopefully, this resonates in the press we do - it's a restaurant/bar. We're not trying to be a hotspot or anything like that. Unpretentiousness. Bring your kids, bring your grandma. The doors are open to everyone.

All three of you come from different hospitality backgrounds (Dylan = Ruby's), Ronnie (Never, Never / Up and Down). How did you come up with a concept that you could all agree on for the entire process?

D Firstly, we're all at the right age and time of our lives to agree that this is the sort of thing we want to do, the launching point for hopefully quite a few other things. We all agreed based on where we are in life and what we think the public wants. Also, it was clear to us what we felt was missing from the city's food/beverage scene and we asked ourselves: "what kind of venue do we personally want to go to?". We learned that being business partners is like being married, there will be disagreements along the way and you have to be sensitive to the other person's feelings, needs and be willing to compromise.

R Exactly. We made a list of what we personally would love to have in a venue. From the restaurant to good wine, to the fish tank, to the pool table and the fireplace. Some stuff didn't make the cut but we covered most of our list. We also created this place with all of our friends in mind.

You’re all Australian and part of this wave of Aussie-owned restaurants and coffee shops that cater to the “avocado on toast, smoothie bow” set yet The Flower Shop menu is different, helmed by Chef Michael Hamilton. Why did you decide to do that when surely it would make more sense to go with what people will definitely order?

D Food is a huge passion for all of us and the main inspiration behind our partnership. We're not trying to reinvent the wheel, it's about creative twists on classics and familiar food that best represents us and this space. Actually, the food program is more sophisticated that it appears. The beef and chicken is 100% natural and ethically raised our seafood is line caught in Long Island. All of our produce is from small farms in California or upstate New York.

R With our very talented Chef and partner Michael Hamilton, we had an opportunity to do things a little differently so we took it. Everyone knows where to get an avocado on toast, but not everyone has a secret ramen on the menu and a cheeseburger with black garlic mayo.

Most “bars” or nightlife spots don’t put a lot of effort into the food so it’s nice to see a marriage of good food, good night-spot. Do you think there is more a trend towards people eating first then going out?

D I have noticed in recent years that New Yorkers are keen to start the night early instead of waiting for the clubs to open. There seems to be a more sophisticated approach to going out.

R I think it's been happening forever in New York. Nearly every time you go for a dinner you ends up out somewhere, whether it's karaoke or a club and some of the bigger nightlife venues have embraced that whole dinner and a party thing. Our version is just much more laid back! Also, it goes back to the idea of the classic pub. Once you knock off work you can bring your girl for a meal or a bunch of the boys, have some food and start. We definitely want to encourage that early dinner crowd.

If The Flower Shops sits between a restaurant and a late-night spot, do you think this marks a new genre/new type of place to go to? Maybe a place where people don’t necessarily have to pick one or the other?

D This is the essence of the venue, a multifaceted place that is kind of a one-stop shop.

R In my opinion, this goes back to proper pubs. We can't forget that in places like U.K. or Australia the local pub is a place for people to meet up, eat, drink, take a date, celebrate a birthday or just have a beer at the bar and make a few friends along the way. The Flower Shop pays homage to those places.

You’ve said that you want a mixed crowd of people, does that reflect in your menu and drinks choice? How so?

D We're super aware of the menu having something for everyone so what we did was put everything we wanted on it then tailored it back based on what sold best. We have a little classic cocktail program and the usual drinks for everyone. Same with the food, something for the girls, something to share, something small if you just want a quick bite. But also you can sit there and have a 3-course meal where you can get into some serious food.

R We literally have everything from oysters to hot wings up to a $32 rib-eye steak. There is definitely something for everyone.

You’ve both been involved in some really interesting hotspots and each place has its own narrative. What do you hope people will say after experiencing The Flower Shop?

D That's a really good question. I guess, a place that people walked in, felt super comfortable, enjoyed themselves, received unpretentious service and vibes from fellow customers. A social place, a place where...I mean I've personally been really lucky to have introduced my best friend to his wife - through places like this - and they've now got 3 kids. It's Raya 2.0! We want people to make it their "local" more than anything.

R See you tomorrow..

Culture

The Club Is Coming to the Stage

We enter and make our way to what is approximately front left of the DJ booth, where we’re accustomed to dancing at clubs in New York. “So is this a techno club or a dance performance?” yells an uncertain participant in my boyfriend’s ear. He laughs, bouncing along to Ben UFO, and yells back, “It’s both!” The club has long been a hot topic in European contemporary dance but it is only now making its way into New York performance venues, largely through transatlantic tours. R.O.S.E. follows recent examples like Michele Rizzo’s HIGHER xtn. at MoMA PS1 (May 2024), (LA)HORDE’s Room with a View at NYU Skirball (October 2023), and Gisèle Vienne’s Crowd at BAM (October 2022).

Do these performances compromise the club’s spirit — a space idealized for its anonymity, dark lighting, and thundering music? The notion of the club as a utopian escape is admittedly just that — an ideal — because of how its intense conditions can create barriers to entry. Still, the club remains sacred for many, a place to forge connections and embrace an alternative state of being. Looking at how performances transfer this spirit to new settings reveals what aspects of the club are essential and those that aren’t.

Sharon Eyal, R.O.S.E. 2024. Photography by Stephanie Berger, courtesy of Park Avenue Armory.

Eyal’s dancers make their entrance. The lighting shifts from roving blue to yellow spotlights as Ben UFO’s tracks transition to more melodic beats. Clad in deconstructed lace Dior lingerie with dark red tears painted on their faces, the dancers move cautiously in a tightly maintained pack, slicing paths through the horde with hoof-like steps and jerky leg extensions. After around ten minutes of this controlled choreography, the dancers vanish as the lighting shifts back to blue and Ben UFO picks up his dubby beats. The club, as we knew it, resumes. This cycle of tightly executed movements and free-flowing club-goers repeats several times, each time emboldening the dancers to plunge further into the crowd.

Clubbing in a building once built for the U.S. Army National Guard on Manhattan’s Upper East Side turns out to be surprisingly successful — at least for the audience. What starts as an awkward, scattered group searching for their non existent seats gradually gels into an engaged, bouncing crowd that erupts in cheers each time the dancers enter and exit. Performance patrons who might never step foot in a club find themselves swept up in its potential for communion, moving in unison with fellow ticket holders. But it isn’t until the very end of R.O.S.E. that the dancers finally break free from Eyal’s choreography and join the fired-up audience in a brief moment of improvisatory movement with the music. By keeping her dancers at arm’s length, Eyal seems more interested in the club as a backdrop for her signature movement style than wholly as a space with meaningful stories to be told.

Michele Rizzo, HIGHER xtn. 2024. Photography by Cameron Kelly courtesy of MoMA PS1.

Back in May, I attended Wire Festival, a multiday electronic music event at Knockdown Center that had no shortage of organically united dancefloors. It attracted a crowd of seasoned ravers who were eager to celebrate the start of spring as they danced alongside DJs who played well into the daylight. I left Wire in an afternoon daze to see Michele Rizzo’s HIGHER xtn. at MoMA PS1. My sleepless euphoria only deepened as the performance unfolded, starting with a lone dancer who looked plucked out of the festival.

The dancer, dressed in sneakers, baggy jeans, and a tight tank top, shuffled slowly into the gallery, perfectly in sync with the looping bars of an understated electronic melody. Soon, other dancers, clad in the same staple rave uniform, joined him — each having traveled from Europe for the U.S. museum debut of HIGHER xtn., which premiered at the Stedelijk in Amsterdam in 2018 and quickly became a fixture at kunsthalles and festivals across the continent. As the score’s tempo climbed, the choreography locked into a 16-count sequence, which the dancers executed with precise synchrony. They remained intensely focused, never making eye contact with each other, as they sought release in the endless repetition of synthesized beats. Once the dancers reached their limit, they stopped the sequence and exited the gallery, one by one.

HIGHER xtn. used the focused daylight of the gallery to highlight the meditative release found in the repetitive movements that dominate dark dancefloors. The performance’s restraint brought more consistency and intentionality than Eyal’s all-encompassing club construction in R.O.S.E. Yet both performances offer enticing entry points into club culture for those who may not frequent raves. Rizzo’s ecstatic, hypnotic repetitions reveal how the club can mirror other meditative practices, while Eyal’s interpolation of performance and clubbing helped hesitant audience members blossom by the end. Still, both works overlook one of the most underappreciated aspects of clubbing — its potential for individual expression. HIGHER xtn.’s pristine uniformity especially risks promoting the outdated techno trope that there’s a “right” way to dance to electronic music.

Maybe this shortcoming is, in fact, a benefit. For habitual ravers jaded by one too many sunrise sets, it’s a reminder to return to the club with more intention. If you pause and peer through the darkness, you’ll see hundreds of people moving to the same beat, each with their own subtle variations. This collective choreography is a ready-made spectacle that doesn’t need validation in a theater or museum. And when the music shifts slightly, you can watch the ripple effect sweep through the crowd while feeling the new beat in your body. Maybe this small bit of magic is best left on the dance floor.

Culture

Real Slick, Jack: Psyche Organic Arrives in New York

Shop Psyche Organic at Happier Grocery and Dimes. Coming soon to @citarellagourmetmarket @unionmarket @gourmetgarage @deciccos @fairwaymarket plus many more.

Culture

Porsche SCOPES Brings Art, Music, and Design to Toronto

The festival was a full immersion into Toronto’s dynamic creative energy. Day one set the tone with DJ collective Living Room, followed by an experimental performance by Claire Rousay that captivated the crowd. Jewelry designer Steff Eleoff unveiled her Porsche Taycan 4S art car installation—a bold fusion of automotive and wearable art inspired by her Sedona ring—while OVO Sound’s Naomi Sharon and DVSN wrapped up the night with powerful, genre-defying performances.

We witnessed SCOPES Toronto bridging underground and mainstream with day two’s lineup. DJ Korea Town Acid’s set paved the way for Angelphroot and Dameer’s debut of BASSMATI, a track blending South Asian influences with bass-driven sounds. Chippy Nonstop’s return to Toronto and Richie Hawtin’s extended set were milestones of the evening, proving that the city’s underground scene has a global resonance.

The final day featured standout performances from local pianist Harrison, Indigenous artist Tia Wood, and hip-hop visionary Sean Leon, who elevated his set with a live choir. Moonshine Collective’s film and musical performance explored themes of African utopia, showcasing art’s power to bridge culture and technology. Rising Toronto star SadBoi, who paused her tour to perform at SCOPES, further underscored the festival’s commitment to nurturing local talent.

Throughout the weekend, we experienced installations from artists like Mitsu Mitsu and culinary creations from Bar Mordecai, capturing the multifaceted creativity Porsche SCOPES brought to Toronto. This milestone 10th edition, open to all, allowed Toronto’s vibrant arts scene to thrive, underscoring SCOPES’ mission to celebrate local talent while connecting it to a global audience.

office had the chance to connect with rising star SadBoi ahead of the event. In our conversation, she shared insights into her creative journey and reflected on what performing and growing up in Toronto means to her and her work.

How are you, and where are you at right now? You told me you were traveling.

Um, I’m good, I’m feeling really good right now. I’m traveling back to Salt Lake City. I had a show yesterday in Seattle. I’m on tour right now with Coco and Claire.

How is touring life treating you? Do you like it?

I love being on the road. To be honest, I feel like I don’t know—like I’ve had good experiences and bad ones—but this time it’s really fun, especially with the people I’m surrounded by. It’s also the longest tour I’ve been on; I have about four more weeks to go. I’m trying not to think about how many days I have left.

Do you feel homesick?

Yes, because when I start thinking about how many days are left, I start to miss my dogs. I’ve just been trying to stay in the moment—I don’t even know what day of the week it is, to be honest with you.

Oh, sweet! What are your dogs’ names?

Jillian and Winston. I know, they’re crazy names.

You’ll be performing at SCOPES in Toronto, which is where you grew up. Do you feel like the crowd is different when you perform in Toronto compared to other cities?

Yes, I mean, Toronto just feels different because it’s home. Every time I come back to perform, something in my career has changed. The last time I performed in Toronto, people just wanted to have a good time, and I’m excited to perform back home again to see everyone’s reactions. I know it’s going to be different from the last time. It’s exciting to see your own growth. Toronto is a tough crowd, though. If we’re with you, we’re really with you.

So, they’re super picky? You have to gain their respect, or what is it?

I think Toronto people are in their own world, but when something really connects with them, they’ll lose themselves in the moment. But it takes something to bring them out of that. Toronto crowds are tough because even if they like you, they won’t show it outright until they’re really vibing with you.

It’s like a vibe check, right?

Exactly. They’ll enjoy your performance, but it’s hard to explain. When people visit Toronto, they often say, “Oh, you guys are so nice,” and I’m like, “I don’t think we’re that nice, we’re just polite.” Like, you can walk down the street, and no one will say anything, but it’s just our mannerisms.

You mentioned Toronto can have a moody energy, especially at night, and that the underground night scene there really inspires you. Can you talk more about what makes Toronto's nightlife so influential for you?

Absolutely, Toronto has this unique energy that comes alive at night. Similar to New York, there are the popular clubs everyone knows, but you need to find your niche—the people who know where the real parties are. I remember going to raves in high school yards, sneaking in because I wasn’t old enough. Events like Baby, Jerk!, and Yes Yes Y’all were pivotal, exposing me to DJs blending dancehall with EDM—something I hadn’t seen before. Toronto nightlife is moody and intense, but when everyone’s out, it’s like the whole city is alive.