HOW TO PARTY IN SPACE

Miami staple David Grutman is taking his nightlife experience extra-stratospheric by curating

“I’m not trying to throw a rave in space,” David Grutman says, leaning back in a leather office chair that may or may not be an Eames. The hospitality entrepreneur—who opened the infamous night clubs LIV and Story in Miami, collaborated with Pharrell Williams on the star-studded Goodtime Hotel, and just opened a steak-sushi concept restaurant with Bad Bunny—is no stranger to stars.

He smiles a protean, Miami smile and adds, “Although, if you want a rave in space…I’ll make it happen.” How exactly that might unfold in the circular, eight-person “space lounge” of Spaceship Neptune, which begins commercial flights in 2024, is still undetermined. But the chairs are rearrangeable for those who buy-out the entire ship—and if anyone can bring the club 100,000 feet above sea level, it’s Grutman.

That’s not, however, the point of Space Perspective. If anything, it hopes to differentiate itself from the adrenaline-junky mode of typical space tourism. As the organization’s founder Jane Poynter explains, Spaceship Neptune forgoes “high Gs”—it’s a gentle ride to the stratosphere’s brink, where one can take in the curvature of the earth and the blackness of space. The hydrogen-fueled Space Balloon—which, in renderings, more resembles a delicate candied chestnut than a polyethylene sack spacious enough for the Statue of Liberty—makes the six-hour trip carbon neutral. The ship ascends at a mere 12 miles per hour and, on return, is lowered gradually to achieve “splash down” off North America’s Floridian coast. Passengers are then ferried to dry land by yacht, of course.

Poynter and Grutman stress that the gentleness of the journey makes the flight more “accessible,” although at $150k per seat that term feels rather relative.

Indeed, when asked about the travel experiences requested thus far, Poynter explains it’s been “mostly normal things: ‘Can we have a poker tournament in space?’ ‘A wedding in space?’ Or, ‘A celebrity chef.’” Grutman, of course, already has all the above on his checklist. “Listen,” and his chair swivels for emphasis, “We’re doing food in space! How are your taste buds going to react being up that high? We don’t know.” The menu for both food and drink will change based on a given group’s preferences—as one would hope, considering the price tag—but Grutman is confident: “They could have gone with Nobu or Jean-Georges. The fact that they went with me shows they care about the experience.” One of the main throughlines will be remaining eco-conscious. “We’re going to integrate brands and ingredients that have a green or sustainable focus,” Grutman says. “I’d also like to develop something ocean-inspired, whether it’s a drink or a plate. Earth is over 70 percent water, and nowhere is this more tangible than the edge of space.”

The “perspective” shift that gives the company its name is the “overview effect”—the feeling astronauts experience upon seeing our planet from above, a mixture of awe, responsibility, and interdependence. While this is often cited as a driving reason for space tourism—and used as an easy justification for the hyper-rich hyper-waste of Blue Origin or Virgin Galactic— Space Perspective and Grutman are approaching it differently.

RENDERINGS COURTESY OF SPACE PERSPECTIVE

“FOR THE BEVERAGE PROGRAM, WE’LL LOOK AT INSPIRATION FROM THE OCEAN, AND LIKELY USE A SUSTAINABLE TEQUILA TO CREATE A SIGNATURE COCKTAIL, WHERE THE GLASSWARE WOULD BE IN A SPHERICAL OR CIRCULAR SHAPE. WE ALSO WANT TO THINK ABOUT THE POTENTIAL HEALTH BENEFITS WE COULD BRING IN WITH INGREDIENTS THAT HAVE AN IMPACT. BOTH ALOE AND BLUE SPIRULINA HAVE ADDED HEALTH AND HYDRATION BENEFITS THAT WOULD KEEP YOU FEELING REFRESHED FOR THE ENTIRE JOURNEY. THE TOUCH OF BLUE WILL ALSO MIRROR THE OCEAN OR PLANET BLUE RIGHT BELOW YOU!”

—DAVID GRUTMAN

As Poynter explains, the gradual zoom-out on the ascent means “you’re going slow enough that your mind can keep up with the scale changes.” That’s heightened by the 360-degree views and the dark interior of the ship—not a speck of stark, Kubrickian white here. For those more interested in understanding, rather than, say, conquering space (or, like Jeff Bezos, unintentionally prompting the FAA to refine its definition of “astronaut”), the vantage is perhaps the most appealing aspect of Space Perspective.

Although Grutman has yet to make the journey himself (the company is still in an unmanned testing phase and much is uncertain between now and the official launch), he offers up versions of previous, transformative experiences, relating it to his practice more broadly. “When someone experiences something different with you, it changes the way they feel,” he says. “It’s why we take people and show them Miami from the water. It changes their feeling of the city.” “A new perspective?” offer. “I love that,” Grutman says, flashing his cigarette-boat smile, “I’m going to steal it.”

What motivates the layperson to seek such a change of perception at not-quite-theedge-of-space? Is it thrill-seeking, insatiable curiosity, a need for social media content (yes, WiFi and recording equipment will be available in-flight), or simply a desire to understand our insignificance in the grand scheme of the universe? One can equally imagine the Obamas contemplating our human condition on Spaceship Neptune as much as one can picture EmRata live-streaming as she rises above the rest of us mortals. Whatever the motivation, Grutman will remain a neutral curator—like a priest at a galactic confessional, he knows not to dole out judgment, only well-crafted panaceas for our individual, oh-so-human natures.

“Alright, I want to show you my outfit,” Teezo Touchdown gleams through FaceTime one early evening as he walks through the streets of Camden Town, London. He hands his phone to his creative director, Austyn [Mashburn]

Sux, who takes a few steps back to reveal the full ensemble: a lime green cycling jersey and complementing tie dye pants accentuated by the artist’s signature nails piercing through his hair. “It’s like I took my favorite day of the week from Spirit Week, which was Tacky Day, and just applied it to my everyday life,” he explains. “How long am I going to keep doing this? I don’t know.”

Born Aaron Thomas in the coastal city of Beaumont, Texas, and now residing in the U.K., the artist thrives on life’s uncertainties. The creation of his Teezo Touchdown ego (as well as the rest of his cast of characters) was forged through the fire of what he calls an “extreme point of trial and error.” Although, Touchdown admits, he’s still identifying the full potential of his primary moniker to this day. He does, however, know that he wants it to be influential enough to become a Halloween costume. He’s seen this effect in the shows of Tyler, the Creator, who brought him along for his recent Call Me If You Get Los t tour, and Omar Apollo, referring to the fans who attend their concerts as the musicians’ cosplayers.

Touchdown’s current form might be most recognizable for the nails in his hair, but his main focus will always be his first love of music— regardless of any imposter syndrome he’s experienced from it or his past. Unlike many, Touchdown doesn’t see his visual presentation as a distraction from his music, which has crossed genres, ranging (so far) from high-adrenaline rap to honest indie rock and catchy electro-pop. Like a sponge, he absorbs all the sonic elements that pass through his ears and transforms each into his own, throwing all caution to the wind in the process. It’s a continuous work for Touchdown that serves almost as an act of self-love and self-care, freeing him from the negative thoughts from his past. “I heard a lot of that crazy, wild stuff growing up. That’s how raw the world can be,” he shares. “I love the direction that the world is going in now, but I’m definitely a product of a lot of those wrongs. I’m still dealing with that. I should let it go, but it’s easier said than done.”

Shaped by this culture of criticism, Touchdown’s sense of humor and study of method acting (or what he calls “a display of his blind and extreme faith”) have allowed him to fend off these thoughts of disapproval to better understand where the negativity originates.

“I believe that it comes from being hurt inside and insecurity. If you can deflect that off to someone else…that’s just the easiest thing to do,” he explains. So he did the opposite; he carried himself with confidence because he knew that he was destined to become Teezo Touchdown. “I know I’m gonna be a star. I’m just moving like a star before the rest of the world sees it,” he asserts.

At his very core, Touchdown is a self-taught artist. After music, his second love is cinema, specifically the kind deeply rooted in DIY culture. He credits the videographer Denzel Seale as his introduction to this type of filmography. Supported by the filmmaker, Touchdown began shooting his own music videos on his phone, and his friend’s “five-minute course” about ISOs, shutter speeds, and editing allowed the musician to film for other artists as well.

“Look at the videos of ‘Sucka!’ and ‘Careful.’ Those were shot on a Sony camera you can get at Best Buy,” he says. “We use our resources but make it look avant garde.” Even with a budget now, Touchdown’s do-it-yourself aesthetic can still be seen in his present work, although perhaps now he realizes that maybe he took the “yourself” part too literally. He’s still trying to unlearn that part of his methodology and replace it with DIWYF: do-it-withyour-friends. He’s grown to love collaborating with other artists like Tyler and Westside Boogie, knowing that the culture of DIY will only grow stronger in music, but he does advise other young artists to use their resources. The maturity is reflective of both Touchdown’s personal and professional journeys; though both have not been the easiest, they have transformed him into the understanding, independent, and unique artist that he is today.

But will Touchdown ever get rid of the nails in his hair? The answer is maybe. After all, the nails aren’t simply part of his character; they hark back to his childhood (his father kept many tools around their family home) and the turning point in his musical career in 2019, when his breakout track about gun violence, “100 Drums,” caught the attention of Chance the Rapper and Trippie Redd. The nails are, in fact, more than a gimmick—they’re a symbol of his ability to change.