28 Seventh Ave. So.
This venue is closed.
With Niagara, Johnny T. (also of the M*therfucker parties) cultivated a loyal flock of East Village rockers. Now he offers them a posh multi-level club to romp around in, the first westside complement to rock palaces like the Delancey and Sixes and Eights. The former high-end Russian restaurant has been remade by celeb photographer Dah Len into what he calls a “luxury yacht on a voyage of hedonistic discovery.” (Lightboxes of beach sunsets run throughout.) Ironically, it still feels like a Moscovite mafia hangout: black marble, a black-lit stripper pole, a chandelier, and mirrors, mirrors, mirrors. A low-ceilinged basement offers refuge from the main floor’s thumping sound system—which is triggered by a dance-rock DJ in a giant faux bullet hole. With its twinkling-star ceiling and modern cube seats, the upstairs balcony is what the VIP room of the spaceship from 2001: A Space Odyssey probably looked like, although the guys sipping the $250-$425 bottles are dressed more for a Bravery concert than for intergalactic travel.