Politics and glamour. An interview with Andrei Fomin

To be precise, we also count the separate St. Petersburg ceremonies. There were 4 ceremonies in St. Petersburg and 6 took place in Moscow, so this year there'll be the 10th and the 11th.
Did it start in the post-crisis times?
Yes. The first one was held at the club "Mirage," now it's a lovely casino. Back then a completely unknown DJ List played, and we named "Jazz Café" the club of the year. In essence, the award reflected the whole new club history of Moscow. Let's say, starting with "Jazz Café." Before it there was only "Marika," it was the forerunner. I still believe that club life as such — in the sense of exclusivity, face control, girls, fun, celebrities — all of that was shaped by "Jazz Café," through the efforts of the Yugoslav diaspora, of which Siniša is well known to us.
Did your company exist long before that?
I began my active work with parties and fashion shows at the entertainment complex "Arlekino." These days it's already impossible to make out the outline of our club at the Kinocentr. It was the first global mass entertainment venue where foreign artists came — not to a concert stage, but to a club one.
So you retrained from a promoter into a BTL guy?
And what's a BTL guy?
Roughly speaking, that's what they call organizers of various events with sponsors.
By my sense of it, I have nothing to do with them. I'm a producer, my idea is to organize an "event." To find my niche, to find the creativity in the Moscow game of solitaire. I told myself right away that I shouldn't do music — there are plenty of monsters here as it is. And to make a music award is absurd, the competition is too great. And I don't do fashion either — the situation there is even more complicated. Well, I found a wonderful niche; it turned out that, besides music and fashion, there's a lot more that's interesting. We do "The 100 Most Beautiful People," a restaurant award and the Night Life Awards. The history of the NLA is the history of club Moscow. You can study the past by it: once the club XIII was a winner — maybe someone remembers it — and "Shambala Bar" won, and one year our winner was "Giusto." All the legendary clubs found their prizes.
The first ceremony surely looked funnier than it does now?
The main nominations were already represented: "discovery," "best promoter" and so on. It was all fun, and probably the idea was so good that the first ceremony already gathered a crowd of people. There was a concert performance too: everyone was stunned by the incredible performance of a Moscow drag queen by the name of Silvana Bombonini. She's a wonderful artist. Back then it was a certain shock and delight for people — to see a two-ton beauty singing some "ha-ha-ha," a schizophrenic romance ballad.
How does the award work? Not like the "Oscars," surely?
The "Oscars" are handed out on the same day as the NLA.
But your nominees aren't put up for public judgment?
No, we don't have that — for better or worse. Because, conditionally, the psychology of the Russian person is still a long way from the "Oscars." If you were nominated but not awarded, that's more of a bummer than if you hadn't even been nominated for anything.
What you end up with is more of a show than a competition.
Conditionally, any event has content and form. If there's only content but no form, the event isn't interesting. If there's form but no content, it's meaningless. To combine these two elements is a great art. On the one hand, the award is prestigious. If we award a club, it's a difficult, considered decision of ours. On the other hand, it mustn't turn into a handing-out of diplomas. Form matters too — it has to be the quintessence of club life. And it's the only event where the clubs come together. There's nothing like it in New York or in London. Cool promoters, for example Mark Baker, are delighted with the NLA.
In London the media culture is more developed.
Not a single person in their right mind would dare to unite all the London clubs. He'd be told where to go. The London industry is many, many years old. Since I caught the beginning of the formation of our club situation, I've been floating along with this award from the moment of its formation. The ceremony has become part of this industry. No one will be able to bring together in one hall Siniša, Gorobiy, Reut and Angelika from First, along with the group Zeppelin, along with Garry Chaglasyan.
Because there are some conflicts between them?
There's a certain competition, there's just no occasion. Behind this example lies a more global aim. We make the award not for the celebrities but for the people who create the industry. Our main guest is the club owner, the art director. It's their celebration. Conditionally, the owner of the club "B2" is far more important to us than Dmitry Malikov. In fact the owners are quiet people, not very public…
Depends on the person...
It's the art directors who are in plain sight, while the owners are in the shadows. And yet the key decisions depend on them. For example, Sorkin decides to make an R&B club — that's his decision, and then he hires promoters, the group "Banda" there… Timati. And these people are very important to us. We want to hold a Club Worker's Day. That's our mission.
You came into this community from "Arlekino"?
Yes — it's a bad word, "sucker-ish," but it was that kind of club for rich people who forked over money. No principles of "clubness" had been formulated there. And the first real club for me was "Jazz Café." I also used to go to a place called "The White Cockroach"… "White"… Lord…
Yes, there was one like that.
On Petrovka. But that was a separate system of small closed clubs. The owner there was Valera, who now has the club Mix… Valera Novak. Into the "Tarakan" they wouldn't let me in, then they did. And so by the time "Jazz Café" opened, I'd already grown up to the rank where they'd let me past face control. I wasn't at "Marika" — I didn't catch it.
Explain to me again — there's no jury as such for the award?
It's the decision of a huge group of experts.
But there's no actual situation of discussing and choosing a winner?
It's very hard to imagine. Who is this jury? Editors of glossy magazines? — they don't go to clubs. Radio stations? — they run advertising. DJs? — they're biased and rigidly tied to each particular club. Probably the real jury is the party-goers. Today they're in this club, tomorrow in another, but to make a committee out of them is pointless. We express a certain common opinion, and we arrive at that decision with great difficulty, because there's a mass of components. First of all, we award those places that shape a certain trend. Let's talk about the club "Leto" — a fantastic artifact: in some courtyard in the center of Moscow people built a tent of incredible size. In essence, "Leto" isn't a club but an object, a thing. And here's the idea — don't look for a space, there aren't any in Moscow. No one will give you an expensive premises for a club. Build a club. The way "Shambala" was built. Or there was a certain trend with "Giusto," because it was, on the one hand, an ordinary Japanese restaurant with sushi and sashimi, and on the other hand, it was a club. There were membership cards for it, getting in was hard, and cool world DJs performed there, and there were stars. Not a club and not a restaurant, but a new form — a club-restaurant.
Doesn't it seem to you that since the decision-making process isn't formalized by you in any way, there are no nominations, the award turns out rather predictable?
Frankly speaking, predictability exists in the strong promoter groups, so, watching Gorobiy or Ashman, it's clear that these people have been on the market for a hundred years and do important things. Or Reut with the opening of First Mansion — another step and another phenomenon. You see, we had summer verandas, winter would come, and the verandas would all die, and we'd go back into small spaces. And what did First do? They made the summer veranda a winter one — that's a certain trend too. But there are always new heroes. Wouldn't you agree that the club Fabrique made a big breakthrough in dance history? I think it's a very deserving club with its own stunning audience. Who's behind the club? We don't even know them — new heroes.
Why don't we know — it's Andrei and Ilya...
Well, it's not Gorobiy and not Ashman.
Another trend is the rise of R&B…
Yes, so you can't say the award is predictable. We have a very democratic nomination: "Best Music Club," where the most interesting concerts take place. At one time it was "16 Tons," then "B2."
They're still in first place even now.
In fact the spectrum is broad, and new heroes appear, among them the club Fabrique.
If we don't fixate on some social segment but objectively assess the situation, then what is Moscow lacking, and which area, on the contrary, is overdeveloped?
It's very hard for me, since I don't do clubs but do the organization of special events. Maybe I don't feel the business as deeply as a club owner or art director. But I see that the market of, conditionally, luxury clubs is overcrowded. That is, in a single evening a person makes the move from "Osen" to First and maybe some other special fashion party as well. Here the circle is closed. Fighting on this field is pointless. On the other hand, there's a market a bit lower economically — the club Skazka, democratic and small, aimed at a different audience. And it'll be full. Success awaits B Club, because it's not only R&B, but also the pricing policy is very correct and the marketing is right. The market of club VIP-persons is divided up, but the market of… there's "Tochka," "Slava," "Park Avenue Disco," of course, and something between them and "Zona," First and "Osen" — that's what is a very promising niche. These are clubs, first of all, in the center of the city, because no one wants to dance out in their periphery, in Butovo.
And don't you have the feeling that in Moscow the genres of high-society life and club life get badly confused?
Well, that's a peculiarity of Moscow. It wants to live luxuriously.
What's that connected with?
I've talked about this many times, I can do it again. It's connected with the specifics of capital accumulation. The thing is, our people became rich in a short span of time — that's the first thing. Second — fairly young people became very rich. Just imagine: a person at 30 already has 100 million, 20 supermarkets, an oil rig, a bank. He's not yet tired of life, he rejoices in life. And there are thousands of such people. We have thousands upon thousands of millionaires. A person over 50 who became a millionaire — he won't go to a club anymore. These young rich guys are the reason our girls are dressed so cool, wear diamonds and Cavalli. There's a huge demand for them. Which isn't there in European France: there you won't become a millionaire at 32, everything is divided up there. Our millionaires are dynamic, they travel, they want to meet people, they need new girls, new cars.
And what about the spiritual life?
They have a spiritual life too. They travel to Asia, to Nepal, to the Himalayas. Very many are into Kabbalah and Buddhism. When a person is rich, he has the opportunity to think about the soul. If he goes to the factory, he thinks about how to buy an apartment.
What's your favourite place abroad?
I like global clubs, spectacular things. I love coming to a club where there are thousands of people. A unique place on Earth is Ibiza. The most stunning club feeling I experienced was when I found myself in Ibiza at Privilege, where there were 15,000 people. When 1,000–1,200 people crammed into the "Titanik," there was no place to park, the whole stadium was full of cars. Moscow needs exactly that — a big elite club.
Let's get back to Russia. What are the peculiarities of the St. Petersburg ceremony?
St. Petersburg is a separate story. St. Petersburg is more conservative — it's a city where everyone knows each other, where everyone grew up together: this girl was first with this guy, then with that one, then she had a child by this one, and so on. I don't want to say "like in a big village," but there everyone knows each other from school. They're light, they want to dance rather than dress up and behave eccentrically. St. Petersburg is more dance-oriented because it's less rich. Money makes people bourgeois.
If they have the makings for it...
The richer a person is, the more he's drawn to lounge places. There are two typically Moscow-style places there — "Onegin" and "Ginza." At "Onegin" people come to show themselves off, to put on cool watches, the ladies there are cool. At "Opium" and Jet Set they dance.
Gorobiy is in a monopolist's position. What's the secret of his success?
He's an incredibly hard-working man, long established on the market. He grasped the subtleties and secrets over time — that's experience, that's a profession. He understood that a club can't be popular for long. However much money is put into it, a club is a speculative business, unlike a restaurant. That's why a club has to be made of cardboard, of props, so that it's no pity to close it, blow it up, burn it down and, in a new spot, build yet another club out of cardboard. In the seasonality lies his understanding of a club — impermanence.
But if everyone starts adopting this technique, as is already happening with Penthouse, then the story too will stop being intriguing.
It seems to me that if we're talking about impermanence, then it's worth noting the huge breakthrough of the group Zeppelin. They started offering unexpected venues. A club's lifespan is short, you have to look for new forms, open and close, change venues and ideas like collections.
The NLA week program — do you take part in preparing it?
As an idea, the Night Life Awards week is a more global thing than the ceremony. I think that over time it'll become more important, and the award will become an event within its framework. Biennials and festivals galvanize people. Russian Fashion Week warms the audience up very strongly: people go to shows and parties three times a day. Or a film festival — what a life it lives. I'd like Moscow to breathe club life for one week, and for every club to prepare a super-show or invite a super-DJ. So that the week would be a demonstration of our club power. So that one could see the whole spectrum at Night Life Week. I want Moscow not to work that week, and for people who don't go to clubs to attend crazy parties. Like a festival. This year I'm glad: Jet Set, for example, calls me and asks, can we take part in the week — please do!
As I understand it, you're not satisfied with how this week looks now?
But the ceremony itself is an established brand. We probably lack the resources to invite Western stars. This year I really wanted Erasure — they don't want to come to Russia. We fought for Pet Shop Boys — it's very hard, a full-fledged concert costs $100,000.
But at the same time Pet Shop Boys often turn up in Moscow. They were at "Zona," for instance.
Those are different things. You can booze. But if you're giving a concert, then behind you there are producers, contracts, a recording studio. We wanted to bring RuPaul. We wanted Kelis. It doesn't come together. The future of the ceremony lies in world stars.
A spontaneity can be felt in your organization.
Chaos everywhere. It's a huge event, and we do a number of even bigger events. Of course there are problems. Year after year we correct mistakes.
How do you assess the influence of advertising capital on the clubs' policy?
The cost of exclusive brand placement in a club is rising, which is also pleasing. No one will simply pay $200,000 for the privilege of hanging in the club "Osen." It's an absolutely calculated marketing move. You can hang up a brand, and everyone will say "Why is it hanging here? Nobody drinks that vodka."
Is that about "Veda" or something?
But everyone knows about this vodka. No company will just hand over $200,000 for nothing. They get back much more. Concentrated in these clubs are such newsmakers and opinion leaders that they create colossal promotion for a brand. Three years ago, when Marlboro gave $50,000 to one club, it was an absolute record. Now the figures are different. For clubs it's a most substantial line of income.
No, in Moscow there's no habit of paying for entry, and it's unlikely to appear. But there's already so much Miller beer that the brand is close to crossing the zone of indistinguishability.
We're coming out together with Beck's, and it's precisely in competition that the truth is born. Recall — a huge part of the market was taken by "Flagman," which took this market away from "Russian Standard."
Now "Flagman" remains only in the magazine "Night People."
Well yes, then "Russian Standard" took everything back from "Flagman." Everyone wants to be a sponsor of one of the three main clubs of Moscow.
At the last ceremony you mentioned Kyiv — supposedly the next city for the Night Life Awards. What's happening there now?
Unfortunately, it's not ready for the ceremony, because there's no rotation there. You can hold a ceremony in any city — in Yekaterinburg, in Novosibirsk. And there'll be a "discovery of the year," a "best dance club of the year." But when we come back there a year later, there'll be no rotation — there'll be no new dance club. Cities like Moscow and St. Petersburg create rotation thanks to the promoter groups. The difficulty is that Ukrainian budgets are still laughable, and the business there is still only forming. The fact that the authorities there have taken a Western tilt indicates that it'll be a Western country there — fun, cool. I think that with Yushchenko's arrival the pro-Western club story will pick up.
The group "Zveri" is performing at the ceremony in Moscow… My bewilderment.
You know, we have a wonderful project "Balle de Fleure" on the Côte d'Azur. I saw a huge number of Bentleys with Russian plates racing along the coast, and they had "Districts… neighbourhoods…" blaring at full blast. That song became not only the anthem of 15-year-old girls but of absolute glamour. In my business I do oligarchs' birthdays, and they're terribly crazy about the group "Zveri." It's not the Maxidrom format, not rock.
So you admit the underlying pop-ness of your undertaking? The fact that it doesn't carry an underground charge?
The pop-ness is present, and kitsch, and luxury — they're with us for now, and that's good. Take London, it's different. But we're still in the mainstream of Italian fashion. And if you add up and divide the average glamorous Moscow girl, it'll be a beautiful blonde, and her brand will be Roberto Cavalli.
And the Moscow man?
The man will be distinguished by very expensive watches, maybe with diamonds. He'll have a very cool car, maybe a Ferrari. Probably he'll have an Etro or Francesco Smalto shirt. As for the suit, for me the ideal image of a strict and luxurious suit is Etro. That is, again the Italians.
And why do Italian aesthetics and manner of behaviour excite us so strongly?
Because we have a striving for luxury out of a story about fast and enormous money. People haven't yet played their fill, they're playing. When you were born in a luxurious castle in the South of France, like Nathan Rothschild — I see him constantly in Moscow — he goes around in jeans and sneakers. But if four years ago you were a student at Moscow State University, and now you're a millionaire with $200 million in Switzerland, and you have no history, then you want to look luxurious, with a watch and a set of wheels. I understand these roots perfectly, feel them perfectly, and I'm very glad of them. Because living in a luxurious country is more fun than in a society where it's the done thing to walk around in jeans and not flaunt your money.
Last question: the problems with democracy in our country — do they in any way get reflected in the nightlife?
I'm somehow about politics…
I don't mean politics as such. Rather the situation described in Pelevin's latest book.
"The Sacred Book of the Werewolf"… politics… existence… Again: there's the essence of life and the form of life. If we talk about the essence, it's close to Pelevin, and if we talk about the form, it's close to Cavalli. If a person has put on Cavalli, it doesn't mean he has Cavalli in his heart too. In his heart he actually has Pelevin.
Or Joseph Brodsky?
Or Joseph Brodsky.