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Mid-beach and South Beach ranked five and six, respectively in a recent New York Times travel piece touting 53 places to visit in 2008.
The writer lavished: "Move over South Beach. The iconic Eden Roc Resort and Fontainebleau Miami Beach — faded glitterati hangouts designed by Morris Lapidus — will reopen in 2008 after multimillion-dollar renovations, returning Mid-Beach to its former glory."
The next day, a New York magazine writer posted her tepid review of an Art Basel fair to take an easy but naive dig at Miami. "Her works were some of the few about sex — there was almost no nudity or politics; a lot of art was about looks and surface. Then again, it was Miami." (Psst, New York. Away from the flashy neon totems to greed and appearance, you'll find a bounty of ugliness and substance on many Miami city street corners.)

--Janine Zeitlin

Elvis Ramirez

Art goers take in an installation at EdgeZones during Art Basel 2007.

With the plethora of Art Basel events going on this past weekend, there was no way to catch all of it. In fact, I’m willing to bet that a lot of the smaller events were overlooked.

EdgeZones Contemporary Art Fair, 2214 North Miami Ave, was one of these small events. However, the event was nothing out of the ordinary.

Girls clad in red dresses were handing out free Amstel Light. Though beer is nowhere near my specialty, I would think they would want to give away something other than a light beer.

I’m not really an art buff, or an art anything for that matter, but I enjoyed all of the works on display, but I wasn’t necessarily blown away.

One piece by Maricel Ruiz struck me. From far away, the work looks like a bunch of squiggly lines on a big piece of paper. Up close, it looks like a bunch of squiggly lines on paper. Look closer and you’ll be able to tell that these lines form a shape, and not only a shape but a pretty well defined sketch. My favorite was one entitled “The Shepherd.” It depicted a big-headed, cartoon-looking shepherd with one sheep. I just thought it looked great.

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No more art. Not for a few weeks, anyway. Not to say Art Basel wasn't jolly and everything, but we've got a pounding art hangover to nurse. Call us lightweights, but while some of the art was as fine brandy to the palate, we definitely got slammed by a 40 or two of artistic malt liquor out there. So, as a public service to all, we've compiled a top ten list of No-Nos for next year's Art Baselites.

1. No more shock – just quit it, okay? No, your cut-off doll's head wasn't shocking; neither was your old man's penis nor your writhing-on-the-ground performance.

2. No more explanations: Whether delivered by the artist him/herself, presented in lengthy text beside the work, or recited eagerly by some slavish groupie, explanations of what some work of art means are lame, lame, lame. And usually dumb -- even if the work doesn't speak for itself, your explanation is worse.

3. No more "symbols of consumerism" – You mean your photograph of an upturned shopping cart outside a Publix is actually undermining the very foundations of American corporate capitalist culture? Come on.

4. No more skinny chicks – No more depictions of half-naked, half-starved anorexic-looking women. Leave the shame-inducing mind-control to advertisers, would you? And on that note . . .

5. No more models milling about– they're annoying.

6. No more lists – Are we on the list? Are you on the list? Can we be on the list? I thought she put me on the list, I'm sure we should be on the list, don't you see us on the list? . . . Screw your list, assholes.

6. No more flying people with swords –amazingly -you had to be on the Surfcomber's list to see that one.

7. No more fetal positions.

8. No more confessions.

9. No more Photoshop -- and if you're going digital, up the res, yo! That pixilated crap is just plain weak.

10. No more shoes – This weekend featured a shocking abundance of brand-name "shoe art," – shoes in paintings, shoes on pedestals, shoes in glass boxes. Let's be clear on the difference – art is made in studios, by artists. Shoes are made in sweatshops, by third-world laborers (Shout out to Adidas: saw you at the MAP Magazine party, man. Nice shoe-in-glass-frame!) --Isaiah Thompson

Probably my favorite stop at Art Basel was Fountain Miami, a “guerilla-style” art fair at 2841 North Miami Avenue. Here’s why: A woman writhed around on concrete in a slick, black octopus suit; the exhibiting artist responsible for Americunt; and art could be had for just $40. But check this relief from the hoity-toity: A letter addressed from the Museum of Modern Art in New York turning down an installation, Blow This Mother Fucker Up, from Fountain exhibiting artist, Greg Haberny. An excerpt: “Your plan to urinate on Monet’s Poplars at Giverny, Sunrise; your suggestion to paint a 'Hairy Beaver' between the legs of Lautrec’s The Seated Clowness and your idea to add 'a homosexual orgy' to Matisse’s The Red Studio were found to be revolting.”

Click here to see Greg Haberny's rejection letter from MoMA. --Janine Zeitlin

Wayne Coe's Scumble Bum, selling for $1,000 at the Bridge Art Fair.

Flashes of conscience mingled among polished art sniffers who trod over the red shag carpet of the Catalina Hotel for Thursday's opening night reception of the Bridge Art Fair.

Exhibitors from both coasts, Dusseldorf, Copenhagen, Paris and Canada took over 80 white-walled hotel rooms to exhibit mostly contemporary art that wasn't only priced for deep pockets (i.e. Muscle Baby, a baby's jumper stitched with photos of veined-muscles went for $400).

Steven Gagnon, a Miami Beach artist, set the tone with Border Cruiser; an old police Crown Victoria parked outside the hotel that flashed videos of a Brazilian immigrant telling of his border crossing on the windows. Gagnon, who is 34, plans to drive the car through Art Basel and was there video-recording the pensive looks of admirers. He wanted people to make a personal connection with the immigrant: "I was amazed by the obstacles they face just to work here."

Sprinkled through the Collins Avenue hotel's faintly musty halls were Clinton Fein's in-your-face, politically-charged digital depictions of torture that you couldn't pass without a glance or thought, even if you wanted to. On the first floor, a 60-by-45 shot showed a naked model of an Abu Ghraib prisoner with a sack over his head on his knees forced to perform oral sex on another.

In the Bert Green Fine Art gallery, Room 224, were Wayne Coe's Artsploitation series of 14 ink sketches, $1,000 each, which are inspired by 1970s and 1980s ads for gay porn. One read: "Art Basel Boys, only $3.00 in Tricks of the Trade." (In his artist statement, Coe explains how the New York fine art market looks like "male pornography.") There was plenty of thought-provoking art at the Bridge including a painting of a panda holding a rifle and an oddly sweet contraption that moved a pair of filled wine glasses back and forth to represent chance encounters.

By the end of the night, the pretty girls in red dresses uncapping Amstel Lights were apologizing for passing out warm beers to the healthy, but not mammoth crowd. The Bridge at the Catalina, 1732 Collins Avenue, is free and open from 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. Friday and Saturday and until 6 p.m. on Sunday. There's a nightly happy hour from 7 to 8 p.m. Friday and Saturday. And, by that time, the Amstel Light will probably be cold.

-- Janine Zeitlin

Holy Basel Schmazel Batman! Who are all those spandex-clad avengers bruising up eyeballs around town?

Aquaman, Thor, The Silver Surfer, Ms. Marvel, The Wonder Twins, Super Girl, and Cat Woman have all been spotted at the Miami Beach Convention Center and in Wynwood the past two days, leaving bewildered bystanders shaking their heads.

A legion of nearly twenty Boston artists have swooped in for the fair dressed as their favorite X-Men, Avengers, and Super Friends. They are in town as part of the Super Heroes Project, the brainstorm of Brian Burkhardt who moonlights as Professor X.

Last year, following a group show Burkhardt was participating in at a Manhattan Gallery, one of the exhibiting Gothamites asked Burkhardt where he was from. When he responded “Boston,” the New Yokel retorted, “where’s that.”

Sick of getting sand kicked in his face, the mild mannered artist joined forces with photographer Tanit Sakakini—aka Firebird-- and their crusade to defend the honor of Bean Town was launched.

“I basically told him to screw off,” Burkhardt fumes, adding that his snob-fighting posse represents artists everywhere. “I was tired of these people putting artists who live outside of New York down. It’s that mentality that if you’re not from there or London or another big art metropolis you don’t count.”

Performance artist TT Baum, making appearances as both Aqua Man and The Silver Surfer this week, says his caped cohorts will be out in force this Saturday afternoon on South Beach hoping to deliver a blow to the evil minions of the industrial art cartel.

“There will be about 20 of us doing the electric glide in front of the Convention Center,” he laughs. --Carlos Suarez De Jesus

Last night’s opening fete for the Miami Beach Art Photo Expo: In Fashion '07 was a mostly subdued affair, with a soigné crowd sipping free vodka tonics and lulled into quiet admiration by the burbling sounds of the Surfcomber hotel’s pool. Its long, blue expanse, capped by a waterfall, served as the dramatic visual centerpiece for the microfair’s airy white tent, with a few rows of large-format photos snaking up either side.

The attendees ranged in age from mid-twenties to sixties, and were all clad in similar minimalist-but-romantic clobber: Think lots of puff sleeves, ruching, and thin suspender/pants combos. Ruffle-front shirts, even for some of the younger men. And it was a heavily monochromatic affair, all blacks, whites, and creams, with maybe a splash of red if suitably muted by more black.

As for the photography itself, it was a visually arresting, best-of type array, with plenty of names and images instantly recognizeable to those who possibly read too many magazines. While some of the images were straight fashion editorial, many veered towards the abstract, on one hand, or towards the documentary, on another. Small crowds continually gathered in front of Jean-Pierre Klazem’s portraits of first ladies, featuring stark, slightly unreal-looking portraits of Nancy Reagan, Pat Nixon, and Barbara Bush. Thierry Mugler’s four or five works were largely architectural, while Serge Lutens’ uber-cool pieces were high-contrast, slightly goth and Art Nouveau.

Also, of course, represented was fashion photography’s most recognizeable household name, David LaChappelle. On view here were his portrait of the singer Shakira, nestled in the jaws of a giant Venus fly trap, as well as his high-gloss look at a writhing Giselle Bündchen for the cover of the now-defunct Face magazine. And just around the corner, the image that adorns thousands of Myspace profiles of the stylishly profligate: that of the inimitable, platinum-blonde transgender superstar Amanda Lepore, hunched over lines of diamonds racked up as if they were disco dust. Très Miami. – Arielle Castillo

If you go to just one art-related even this week, make it the AIPAD Photography Show. It's that stunning. Really.

I've been to different Art Basel events over the past few years, and while I've been amused, intrigued and bored by much of the art, I've never been as blown away as I was with the Association of International Photography Art Dealers show. I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that I love photography, but still. This show, held in a large, air-conditioned tent near Midtown Miami, is breathtaking in its scope and quality.

One of my favorites: Timonthy Greenfield-Sanders, who was commissioned by HBO to take photos of disabled soldiers returning from Iraq, took a portrait of a young man who had lost both eyes. The soldier's wife had divorced him shortly after he came home. Embedded in his glass prosthetic eye was a circle of diamonds from his ex-wife's band.

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Purple plaid, green drinks

Last night, in the heart of Wynwood, just steps away from the Rubell Collection warehouse, I found myself standing in trailer trash. The ripe pungent odor of the preserved, petrified dumpster food that formed part of Luis Adelantado art studio’s Vice exhibit was absolutely breathtaking. So much so that I had to hold my nose to keep myself from vomiting all over this ode to human refuse. Maybe I’m missing something, but I don’t understand the artistic value in nailing chicken tenders to a wall and hanging Ziploc bags filled with stale Burger King French fries and partially eaten Wendy’s burgers from a ceiling. This is what Oscar the Grouch would do if he went on 24-hour crack smoking binge.

Soon, I bailed to another pre-Art Basel affair taking place just a few blocks away at Midtown Miami. Dozens of well-heeled art lovers in snazzy duds trickled through the glass door entrance of the temporary white tent that houses Photo Miami. The first indicator that I had moved up a rung in the Art Basel social ladder was the black-tied waiter serving bottles of Grolsch beer from a silver tray. Now that’s classy with a capital K. I took a pass on the hor d’ourves (including some gelatinous concoction resembling ketchup topped with mayonnaise) -- I had brought my own condiment packets for sustenance. A waitress informed it was some sort of Russian dish which I can’t pronounce, much less spell. However, I overheard several guests marveling at its deliciousness.

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This year’s Art Basel gathering will feature a new, food-as-art event called Art Appètit. Twenty of Miami’s top toques are taking part, each presenting their personal artistic vision via edible creations (some of which stand six feet tall). Opening night is tomorrow from 6:30 to 9 p.m.at the Ritz-Carlton South Beach. Hors d’oeuvres by DiLido Beach Club chef Jeff McInnis will get passed, so while guests gobble they can observe the gastronomic artistes cobble together their constructs.

The second of three exhibits occurs on Saturday night, 7:00 to 9:00 p.m. at CASADECOR. Soli Organic will be floating ice cream in a pool of Rain Organic Vodka, and both will be served -- hopefully not together. The next evening’s exhibition will start the same time, chef Alberto Cabrera hosting at his Karu Restaurant & Y.

The whole shebang was started and organized by Gabriele Marewski of Paradise Farms, who was able to corral classy culinarians such as Clay Conley (Azul), Allen Susser (Chef Allen’s), Tim Andriola (Timo Restaurant & Bar), Michael Schwartz (Michael’s Genuine Food & Drink), Sean Bernal (Oceanaire Seafood Room), Jason Smith (Table 8), Giancarla Bodoni (Escopazzo), Michael Jacobs (Grass Restaurant & Lounge), Larry LaValley (Mark’s South Beach), and others into coaxing out their inner Picassos. One Guernica on rye, please. --Lee Klein