On Saturday, Feb. 7, the charmingly loopy socialite Arden Wohl was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the closet-size Art Production Fund space on Wooster Street, surveying the dimly lit crowd of attractive people who had packed in to check out her 20-minute film, Two Other Dreams.
On a screen, the actresses Azura Skye and Ms. Wohl’s longtime friend, Leelee Sobieski, were acting out scenes written and directed by Ms. Wohl. “You know, I read that they could inject Botox into your armpits to make you stop sweating,” uttered Ms. Skye, wearing undergarments, as she straddled Ms. Sobieski’s back, zipping her into a red Herve Leger dress. (Ms. Skye’s character is dressed up in three different types of hair accessories in the film and bears a curious resemblance to the director.)
In the dark, romantic fairy tale, the two women flirt, gaze at one another profoundly, fight, gaze some more, cry, gaze, cry, gaze. The whole thing concludes with a scene in which Ms. Sobieski may or may not have sex with Ms. Skye’s dead body.
“It’s based upon my personal experiences. My harrowing and complicated relationships with the people closest to me,” Ms. Wohl told the Transom. She was garbed in slim black pants, a frilly satin blouse and her usual eccentric headband.
Ms. Wohl co-wrote the film with her friend Darsi Monaco, a pretty young blonde, who was wearing an understated black dress and a black bow in her hair.
“We usually just got together at coffee shops, restaurants and in our apartments late at night, just sort of rambling and letting the ideas fly around the room,” Ms. Monaco said of the two-year writing process. “We had a full-length script based on this, but then we decided we wanted to do something a little bit more experimental. Something more … strange.”
After the film concluded, Ms. Monaco instructed the Transom to head to the back room “to get blessed.” The film was intended as a sort of installation, and in the back, a woman with an Indian-style headdress and heavy makeup (applied by Ms. Wohl) was rubbing smelly essential oils on guests. Ms. Wohl was supervising the “blessings.”
“Come get blessed!” said Ms. Wohl, who was sitting in the corner of the floor as guests peered through the curtain.
Later, Ms. Wohl’s mother, Denise, jewelry designer Waris Ahluwalia, Chiara Clemente, Proenza Schouler’s Lazaro Hernandez and some of Ms. Wohl’s cousins crowded into the Soho Grand for the after-party.
Yvonne Force Villareal, the fur-wearing founder of the Art Production Fund, who has worked with artists like Vanessa Beecroft and Rudolf Stingel, was enthusiastic. “The installation is a great success!” she told Ms. Wohl. “I really love working with you. It was a special experience.”
Near the bar, a few of Denise’s friends were discussing what they had just seen.
“Was that supposed to be, what’s it called, narcolepsy?” asked an attractive blonde who appeared to be in her 40s, sipping a fruity cocktail.
“It’s actually necrophilia,” a young gentleman corrected her. “Narcolepsy is the sleeping disorder.”
“Ah, right,” replied the blonde. “But you know, I have to say, it was very well shot.”