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David Barton

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The Bartsch Is Back

The doyenne of nightlife is throwing a new Sunday party.

By Daniel Maurer

That's Mister Mr. to You

Takashi Murakami has already spawned multiple editions of just about every object imaginable — so it was only a matter of time before he spawned a candy-colored disciple too (or two, or, twenty, actually). Enter the first: Mr. (yes, just Mr.), a mysterious protégé and a product of Murakami's "factory"-like Kaikai Kiki company-collective. Mr. wraps up his New York solo debut tomorrow at Lehmann Maupin. —Rachel Wolff

David Barton and Susanne Bartsch: He Says Hot Dogs; She Says Organic Turkey Sausages

"David is a great person to feed," nightlife doyenne and anti-housewife Susanne Bartsch says of her husband, gym owner David Barton. That's because Barton will eat anything, or so he claims: "Eating is a means to an end. I don't care what it tastes like. If you gave it to me in a pill, I'd be fine." Really? When the pair recalled their meals over the last week, fetishes like tuna imported by the caseload and corn-on-the-cob gelato were revealed.