by Marie Rodriguez

The Groot Handelsgebouw building – an 8-story office block and an architectural symbol of submit-struggle Rotterdam – is an abnormal putting for an evening that showcases some of Holland’s leading underground DJs. But then the Suicide Club is unusual nighttime. Arriving on the 8th floor, we exit the carry going through an open kitchen, food service nonetheless in complete swing. Ambient jazz fills the air above the murmur of communique and clatter of plates and glasses. With room for two hundred, the membership is small, with around bar.

She was adorned in turquoise tiles within the middle. Wrought iron modular shelving sits above it, a few sections packed with ornate stained glass. Warm, low putting lighting take a seat above the tables. So a long way, so gastro. Has this region honestly played host to the likes of Carista, Luke van Dijk and DJ Deeon (and tonight, local hero De Sluwe Vos)?

Door host Bella is the primary indication that this is something extra than an eating place. Known for her vogueing, this night, her sleek hair is well pulled again right into a ponytail, and they are wearing a bejeweled bra and lengthy, black kimono-style jacket. An older, neatly dressed couple in their late 50s sit down on the bar, a group of excitable English tourists who’ve been there for some of the hours occupies a sofa and desk within the corner, and a younger couple stride in their finery – he in smart blouse and trousers, she in ornate black nighttime robe and a floor-length fur coat that appears to were made from 1,000 minks. It’s a strangely glitzy crowd for this proudly business metropolis.

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