Supperclub Launches

10th December 2009

If the Italians do that nebulous “it” better, then the Dutch certainly do a far superior version of the supperclub to any of their European cousins.

The launch party attended by a stellar cast of West London’s premier party animals including Rhys Ifans was so delectably Dutch that you wanted to weep tears of tulip touting joy (petals bleached snow white natch). The invitation was emblazoned with the legend, “wear white” and arrived as a flat packed cube which attendees were enjoined to “customize to show us who you are”.

However, the likelihood of anyone actually remembering who they were following a champagne soaked sojourn in the hallowed venue that once played host to the capital’s legendary Subterranea nightclub of the 1990s was slim as the topless model who was inexplicably lashed to one of the club’s pillars wearing little but a white blindfold.

The original Amsterdam version opened 17 years ago by a group of young creatives taking over an Amsterdam warehouse in the decadent 1980s with the purpose of displaying their art. Unable to afford furniture, they brought in their own mattresses which marked the beginning of Supperclub’s dining concept.

Needless to say, everything at 12 Acklam Road is white, save the Bar Rouge with is red and vibrates to the music belting out from the central dj station like a pulsating womb. On a regular night, if there is such a thing, frosted doors slide open when dinner is ready to be served and guests are ushered into the club’s main area, the Salle Neige, a vast white space overlooked by a gallery on the storey above and lined with oversized beds for dining, reclining and sixty-nining should the mood take you. We imagine such practices are not unheard of.

Dining guests book a four course tasting menu devised by head chef Renaud Marin who hails from London’s Oxo Tower and lie back and watch the show. But just what that entails, you’ll have to book in to find out! As owner, Bert van der Leden explains darkly, supperclub’s edgy performances and sometimes challenging spirit will sweep you away into the freedom of the night.

What we will tell you is that the laundry bill must be shocking and that for the duration of Supperclub’s tenancy, the White Company is in absolutely no danger of going out of business.

Wait staff at the launch party were beautiful boys in white robes – aka high priests of hot – all tan torsos, bare feet, ultraviolet face and body make-up and the odd tutu and pair of giant fake breasts just to show us that Supperclub isn’t taking its new-found dominance of the London scene too seriously.

Supperclub: it’s a white out!

12 Acklam Road, London, W10, 020 8964 6600

 

www.supperclub.com

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