People don't just go to Movement in Detroit for the festival itself. Well, some people do, and that's terrific, but the real freaks know that it all goes down at the afterparties. When the festival lets out, the gauntlet begins—a 72-hour romp fueled by dubious substances and frantic cross-town Uber rides. The scene is a dripping fantasia of possibility—parties in warehouses, gay bars, art galleries, and even fields kick off after midnight and conclude after your friends back home are done arguing over who's going to pay for brunch.
This year, my photographer friend Tom Keelan and I found ourselves on a series of escalating adventures. On Sunday morning, as the legendary Club Toilet came to a close, we jumped in a stranger's car and sped off to a free outdoor rave next to a recycling center. A giant flaming steel cage hovered overhead, a group of dudes passed balloons around a bonfire, a deconstructed art car roared up and down the street, and pancakes were inexplicably served. Think Mad Max meets It's All Gone Pete Tong.
The next day, after pounding the walls at No Way Back until noon, we traipsed off and explored an abandoned, stalactite-filled warehouse with a crew of nomadic ravers, one of whom threw a brick at us (in a friendly way). We also found a bloodstain on a mound of rubble next to some train tracks. Decide for yourself if its human in origin.
Processing his own digital photos with Photoshop wizardry, Keelan transformed our weekend into an iSpy phantasmagoria of flesh and light. See for yourself below, and check out more of his work here.