Sky's the Limit: The Operations, Renovations and Implications of a Montréal Gay Bar

James Man

Graduate Program in Communications McGill University Montréal, Canada

August 1997

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The author retains ownership of the L'auteur conserve la propriété du copyright in this thesis. Neither the droit d'auteur qui protège cette thèse. thesis nor substantial extracts fkom it Ni la thèse ni des extraits substantiels may be p~tedor othenvise de celleci ne doivent être imprimés reproduced without the author's ou autrement reproduits sans son permission. autorisation. 0 Table of Contents Preface Sky: Big Tirne Fag Bar ...... 3 Mapping The Gay Village: ...... 7

Chapter One Grounding the Sky: Research Paradigms and Theoreticai Bases ...... 15 The First Frontier: Space as Space? ...... 15 Architectures of Difference: Space as Queer? ...... 25 It's A Small World Aîter All: Space as Theme-park ...... 30 Movements in the Dark: Space as Dance Club ...... 34 Sky: More than the Sum of lts (Theoretical) Parts ...... 37

Chapter Two Tensions in the Sky: Unity and Diversity in the Operations of a Montréal Gay Bar ...... 39 Pierre Viens: Master of the Sky ...... 39 Practice Makes Perfect: The Daily Operation of Sky ...... 42 Sky-Pub and Resto Bleu: Outer Distinction and Inner Division ...... 43 Covering the Scene: Admissions and the Economy of Hipness ...... 45 Sky-Club: Musical Tensions ...... 48 Sky-Club: Managing the Sky ...... 54 UpstairslDownstairs: the Divided Nature of Sb ...... 59

Chapter Three A Place for Everything .... The Transformation of Sky ...... 61 The Légende and the Legend: Sb's Architectural Advertising ...... 61 UpstairslDownstairs: Metaphors We Club By ...... 69 Pie in the Sb:Expanding Markets. Expanding Spaces ...... 78 The Best Laid Plans ...: Conuol and Secrecy in Club Culture ...... 79 Practice Makes Perfect: The On-Going Struggle at Sky ...... 81

Chapter Four ... And Everything In Its Place: The Implications of Sky ...... 83 It's a Mal1 World After All?: Sky and the Malling of the Gay Village ...... 83 hblic vs . Private: Whose Public and Whose Private? ...... 88 The Shape of Clubs to Corne: Sky and the Concept of the Gay Village ...... 92 Taking Aim: The Gay Community as Target Market ...... 96 Chapter Five Shifüng Grounds. SMting Skies: The Mega-Club and the Realm of Possibiiity .... 101 Epilogue: ...... 103 Abstract:

A burgeoning mega-club in the hem of Montréal's gay village, Sky embodies many forces active in gay club cultures and villages across North Amenca at the end of the twentieth century. This project documents the daily operations of Sky - as a complex architectural site, a complicated set of managerial practices, and a popular space in Montréal's Village - and outlines the theoretical implications of such an establishment for both the gay community and for club culture more generally. A large entertainment complex currently undergoing a major expansion, Sky carmot be theorized as either a wholly oppressive or completely liberatory development. Although Sky presents some of the advantages of a megaclub for the gay cornmuhy - increased diversity, accessibility and community - it also highlights the disadvantages in the development of such establishments: concentration of ownership, the removal of a gay presence fiom city streets, and the promotion of certain gay identities and cultures over others.

Sky, un "méga-club" en plein essor situé au coeur du village gai de Montréal, représente plusieurs tendances au sein des clubs et des villages gais de l'Amérique du Nord a la fin du XX siècle. Ce projet aborde les opérations quotidiennes du Sky, en tenant compte de son architecture complexe, de ses pratiques de gestion, et de sa popularité à l'intérieur du village ainsi que des ramifications théoriques de cet établissement pour la communauté gaie et pour la culture des clubs de nuit en général. Au plan théorique, ce complexe récréatif présentement en expansion constitue un phénomène ni complètement opprimant, ni entièrement libérateur. Bien que le Sky oEe certains des avantages d'un "méga-club" pour la communauté gaie--plus grande diversité, accessibilité, et communauté--il possède également les désavantages de ces établissements: la concentration du pouvoir économique, une moins grande présence gaie dans les rues, et la promotion de certaines identités et cultures gaies plutôt que d'autres. Acknowledgernents:

Any project such as this requires much more than an author: an author is necessary, of course, but so are advisors, encouraging colleagues, and good fiiends. With that fact in mind, 17dIike to thank Dr. Will Straw for his insight, his cnticism and his advice: any student would be lucky to have Will as a mentor. I'd also like to thank Vincent Doyle for his encouragement, his example, and his library: this thesis could not have been completed without his help and generosity.

Finally, I'd like to thank a number of people for their support during the last three years: Neil Hartlen, for putting up with al1 of the communication-speak; Aurora Wallace, for her enthusiasrn and her balcony; Haidee Wasson for her clarity and her laughter; Kabir Ravindra for al1 of those late-night conversations; and Steve Boinick for helping me through the final sketch. Thank you all. Preface / 3 a Preface Sky: Big The Fag Bar

Located in Montreal's gay village, Sky has dubbed itself a "big thne fag bar". At the

tirne of this writing, Sb is in its third year of operation, and is beginning to truly live up to its

slogan, undergoing massive renovations and redefining itself both within Montreal's gay

village and within the city as a whole. This transformation presents Sky as an interesting case-

study, concretizing issues of gay architectures and spaces, gay identity-formations, and gay

practices within a club culture. But Sky is not unique either as a gay bar or as a generic

watering-hole, nor does it embody exclusively gay issues.

Bars and dance clubs are important sites in North American popular cuihire and have

slowly been receiving more and more critical attention from disciplines as varied as

anthropology, sociology and communications. Joseph A. Kotarba and Laura Wells use the

dance club as the site for their investigation into teenage behaviour patterns in their article

'Sryles of Adolescent Participation in an All-Ages Rock 'N' Roll Nightclub: .4n Ethnographie

Analysis"; Richard Tewksbury and Nancy Whittier explore the issue of safer sex through the

dance club, in their article "Safer Sex Practices in Samples Drawn from Nightclub, Campus,

and Gay Bars"; and James W. Chesebro and Kenneth L. Klenk locate the formation of gay

male masculinity in the dance club, in their study entitled 'Gay Masculinity in the Gay

Disco". Furthemore, burgeoning interest in the more general issue of the social construction

of space has prompted many academics to investigate different types of spaces, their uses and

constructions: one of these spaces has been the dance club. Of course, these spaces are not @ simply social constructions but are also the result of geographic, urban and architectural Preface / 4 planning; the constructed spaces are not just practices but are practices which take place within a physical frarnework that has been designed with a specific purpose in mind. At the same tirne, increasing scholarly interest in issues relating to sexuality has promoted the validity of studying gay practices and experiences. As important sites of an urban gay experience, gay bars in particular are thus coming under scrutiny more fiequently. What places do these bars hold within an urban gay popular culture? How do these bars differ from other bars architecturally, practically, economically? Yet this paper is not a study of gay bars in general, or even of one specific gay village, but of one bar in particular. What can Sky reveal about dance clubs in general and gay clubs in particular?

Sky presents an interesting case study for a number of reasons. First and foremost is its starus within Montreal's gay village. Sky is currently a "hot clubn. a place to see and be seen.

This status begs the question: why did Sky become popular? How? What is the secret of its success? Whatever the secret, this current success is allowing Sky to expand. In fact, the enterprise is gohg through a transformation, from a small barldance-club to a large entertainment cornplex which includes or will soon include a restaurant, a pub, an art-gallery space, a performance space, a cniising bar, a video-lounge, a pool-hall, two dance floors, and more. This transformation irnplicates Sky in a number of larger issues of entertainment in a

Western context: Siq is no longer just a gay bar, but an entire gay village located within a single building. Taking a number of different types of spaces that were formerly located in different buildings (such as the show-badperformance-space,the cnlising bar and the restaurant) and owned by different individuals, Sky places them al1 within a single building, thus entering the entertainment warld of the 90s: the world of the multiplex cinema, the theme Preface / 5 park. the megastore. This entrance is not the first of its kind, of course; many other bars have become megabars in their day, even within a homo-context. The "Station C" complex, just down the Street from Sky in Montréal, could be considered in the same light since it encompasses three different bars, including a dark leather-bar (Katakombes), a lesbian bar

(Sisters) and a dance bar (K.O.X.). Yet Sky remains the most intriguing due to the scope of its gaze, the width of its grasp. Furthermore, Sky is in the rnidst of its transformation. A work in progress, Sky thus presents itself as a building in flux, at an in-between state. The process of the transformation allows us to glimpse both the before and the after, to watch a dramatic change take place.

Sky also holds an interesting position within Montréal's gay community . Sky is not just a bar but a patron as well. Sponsoring events like 'Dkoupure du Coeurn, a showing of drawings by Jean-Gabriel Lambert, the bar becomes a site for the production of cultural meanings, not just their consumption. Of course, this type of officially-sanctioned production is restricted to a few artists who are allowed 10 grace the walls of the Pub, and the screening process used to determine the types of art and artists who are granted the official sanction is vague and non-transparent. Still, the very fact that Sky is attempthg to foster a "serious" art cuiture is somewhat remarkable. However, Slcy is remarkable in other ways, intervening in both academic and activist circles as well. For example, Sky bankrolled HomoProrno in

August of 1995, which is a full day of queer programming by the McGill University student radio station CKUT (Custodio: May 3 1, 19%). Furthermore, in February of 1996, Sky was a

CO-sponsorof a talk given by gay activist/authorljournalist Michaelangelo Signorile, an event which was part of Activist Weeic at McGill University and whose other CO-sponsorsincluded Preface / 6

LBGTM (Lesbian, Bisexual, Gay and Transgendered McGill), CKUT Radio and others. Of course, such moves are not solely philanthropie. The HomoRomo radio show was broadcast from the sidewalk in front of SQ, drawing attention to the bar both on the street and over the ainvaves; after Signorile's talk, which drew a crowd fiom a wide variety of backgrounds both academic and non-, Sky hosted a reception for the author and others at Sky Pub. Thus, Sky gains both cultural cachet by sponsoring the events themselves and, more importantly, economic benefits from hosting the broadcast, reception etc.

Sky is, of course, a business and one run to make a profit. Although it is not necessarily uncornmon for gay bars and entertainment complexes to be run as non-profit ventures, particularly in smaller gay comrnunities, SS, is most definitely a 'for profit' venture.

Thus the move to sponsor art exhibits and academic lectures, to include spaces such as a show- bar, a restaurant, and a cruising bar must be examined frorn an economic perspective. 1s the move to widen the scope of the club simply a cash-grab, an attempt to prevent clients who may wanr more han "jusi a gay bar" fiom leaving the establishment to waik across the strrrt to a different type of space? Has this shift become necessazy in an age of splintering demographics and popular cultures? 1s Sky a harbinger of the future of clubs, both gay and straight? These questions wiil provide the starting point for this investigation into the nature of Sky. This club, however, must first be contextualized before any of these questions can be addressed. After dl, this complex exists within a network of other places, on a street with other businesses, in a neighbourhood with many different people. We must first look at ihis neighbourhood before moving on to discuss Sky specifidly. Preface 1 7

Mapping The Gay Village:

Any anempt to geographically locate a certain group within a city is destined to reductionism and exclusionism. A discussion of Montr6al's gay village cannot be immune to such problems. A constantly-shifting ground, any gay village is continuously being delineated and defined, with new borders and outposts appearing and disappearing. Yet the concept of a gay village has a great deal of practical utility in everyday life. When one person says to another "Are you going down to the village?". there is a general understanding of what is meant. The theoretical confusion about boundaries and borders becomes muted in practice.

Furthemore, a number of publications like "The Insider's Guide to Gay Québecn, the

Columbia FunMaps, and even local newspapers such as Village, foster a certainty about spaces such as the village, detailing its borders and its contents. An examination of one of these texts

- in this case, a Columbia FunMap - may prove useful, both providing a portrait of the

Montréal village itself and revealing the problems inherent in any institutionalized portrait of such a nebulous and ever-changing space.

Columbia FunMaps is a Company that produces maps of various cities for a gay and lesbian clientele. With the mono "mapping the gay and lesbian world" emblazoned on the fkont, each map includes a directory of businesses and services which are presumed to be of interest to the gayllesbian tourist or newcomer. Along with this directory is an actual map of that city's gay village with an accompanying descriptive paragraph, detailing the glories of the city or region as a whole. These pamphlets are distributed in a srna11 stand which is often located in gay identified spaces such as bars, clubs or book stores, and which contains the

FunMaps for a number of difierat cities, induding the city where the stand is located; the Preface 1 8

FunMap of Montreal which is addressed below was procured at Northbound Leather in

Toronto, a clothing store catering to the gayllesbidleather community. Importantly, each

map cornes with a disclaimer: "A listing or ad in this guide should not be constnied as a

statement of the sexual orientation of the ownership, management or staff of the businesses

included; only that they welcome lesbian and gay customersn (Columbia FunMap: 1995). This

disclaimer hplies a distinction between establishments run by gays and lesbians and those

who sirnply "welcome lesbian and gay customers" while at the same tirne giving those who

choose to list themselves in the duectory freedom from actuaiiy being perceived as

homosexual. Thus, Columbia FunMaps effectively closets the gay- and lesbian-owned

businesses and their staff, whether they wish to be closeted or not. The FunMaps also blur the

distinctions between businesses growing up from within the gay and lesbian community and

those simply hoping to capitalize on that community. Furthemore, as more and more

businesses and companies are drawn to gay and lesbian markets due to their much-publicized

demographic charms (i. e. the high incomes and ducation levels, the brand-loyalty etc. ),

listings of gay- and lesbian-friendly businesses could conceivably include most businesses

within any given city : the Columbia FunMap may eventually become the Yellow Pages. This

transformation has not yet taken place, however, and so the FunMap of Montrtai still presents an interesting and widely-circulating depiction of both the city as a whole and the village in particular. Preface / 9

- I Columbia FunMaps (1995) Directory of Montréal 1 Type of Business 1 Number 1 Percentage of Total 1 Art Galleries 1 0.5 Bars 30 14.1 1 ~ookStores I 2 I O. 9 1 1 Cabarets 1 5 1 2.3 1 1 Camping (Outside Montréal) 1 1 Car Rentals

1 Dance Clubs- Wornen's 1 4 1 1.9 1 1 Erotica 1 13 1 6.1 1 Escort Services 1 1 1 Flotists 1 1 1 O. 5 1 Hair Stylist 1 2 1 0.9 1 Health & Beauty Health Clubs/Saunas 11 5.2 Limousine Services 1 0.5 Lodging 21 9.9 Women's Lodging 3 1.4 1 Massage Therapist 1 1 1 0.5 1 1 Publications 1 5 1 2.3 1 Real Estate Services 1 0.5

I

! Resources 14 6.6 Restaurants 51 23.9 L Shopping 4 1.9 Preface 1 10

1 Columbia FunMaps (1995) Directory of Montréal 1

1 Travel Services 1 7 1 3.3 1 Video 9 4.2 Total: 213 100 Figure 1.

From these figures, a picture of the makeup of gay Montréal emerges. With its largest constituent being restaurants at 23.996, followed by bars at 14.1% and lodging at 1 1.3%, the village appears to be a space for eating and drinking, after which one retires to his l gay- positive bed for the night. Yet, like ail statistical breakdowns, the directory of the village is inherently problematic. First and foremost, the directory includes not just the village (however we would define such a geographic area) but many establishments located outside of the village itself. Restaurants such as Bagel, Etc., which is located on Boul. St. Laurent just south of Ave. Mont Royal (thus placing it far from anyone's vision of the village), are included there, as are restaurants such as the various Pizzedelic establishments which are scattered al1 over the city. Many of the saunas listed in the Directory are far-flung as well; although they may arguably be part of the mentality of the village no matter where they are located, at least half of these saunas are located far from the village, on streets such as Rachel and

LaGauchetière, St. Laurent and St. Hubert. These listings problematize the existence of the village as a bounded space, and foreground issues of density and concentration in the

'1 emphasise the male gender of the abject because Columbia FunMaps semis to ponray the village as a space prirnariiy for men. The Montréal FunMap differentiates betweea 'Lodgingn and "Women's Lodging", 'Dance Clubs" and 'Women's Dance Clubs": the male is diconsidered to be the universal, all-encompassing nom, from which wornen mut distinguish themselves. interestingly enough, establishments like l'Aigle Noir and la Track which are men-only spaces are not idenmeci as such but simply listed as 'Bars" or "Dance Clubs". Preface / 1 1 functioning of a vay village. A second major problem with the FunMaps Directory centres around issues of categorization and the possibility of misidentification. For exarnple, Bagel

Etc. the restaurant mentioned earlier is not listed just under "Restaurants" but under "Bars" as well. Although Bagel, Etc. has both a restaurant liquor license and a bar liquor license (the latter of which permits them to serve alcohol to customers who are not eating), the space does not appear to be prirnarily a bar. but a restaurant. Similarly, both Sky and MAX are listed in the directory once only - as 'Bars" and conspicuously not as "Dance Clubsn, despite the fact that both establishments prorninently feature dancefloors in their design. A third problem with publications such as the FunMap is that the Directory gives the reader very little "feel" for the village itself. A physically small establishment like Cabaret L'Entre-Peau gets as much typographie space on the list as a huge complex like K.O.X., Sky or La Track. As well, the reader has no impression of the 'type" of establishment Listed, except for the name. La Track. a dark, cellar-like cruising bar for the leather-set is listed alongside MAX. which is a shiny, energetic dance bar. Finally, the directory gives the reader no impression as to which spaces are popular, which nights are busy, etc. La Track may be one of the busiest bars in town on

Wednesday nights and empty on Thursdays, but the directory gives little indication of such facts. The actual experience of the Village never enters into publications such as the Columbia

FunMaps .

Still, this lack of such information does not render the FunMap useless, either for the gay tourist visiting Montreal or for the researcher investigating the village; both can use these publications as starting points. At the very least, the acnial map of the village provides both the tourist and the researcher with a physically demarcated space withh which to look and to Preface / 12 locate themselves: from this vantage point, one cm explore the outlying areas. Furthemore, the FunMap Directory provides a great deal of basic information about gay Montréal, including the names and addresses of most of the establishments. From such information, the reader can piece together the physicai geography of the village, sirnply by deciphering the different densities of establishments listed. Much of the other information can only be procured from actually visiting the locations listed, even those lying physically outside of the

"village proper". After all, a Columbia FunMap cannot be a trip to the village; it is solely a guide, a starting point. And thus, it is as a starting point that 1 locate it within this work, this study of Sb and the attempt to locate a gay village within Sky: a matter of concentration and re-creation. The FunMap Directory creates a portrait of gay Montréal, a portrait which reveals the concentration of establishments which is the village. Sky's transformation into a village within a village only furthers this concentration. Thus, if 1 can use the FunMap as a rough guide to gay Montréal, then 1 can use it as a measuring stick when discussing Sky 's transformation into a village within a village. Matfrom gay Montréal - both those establishments inside the village proper and other outlying establishments - has Sky chosen to replicate, and what has been left outside? The FunMap will thus hinction as a touchstone throughout my discussion of Sky and its 'rnalling" of the village.

But 1 am getting ahead of myself. Before approaching the specific investigation of Sky as a meeting place for issues of 90s-style media empires and gaytlub-practices, 1 will fust attempt to discuss much of the research which has gone before, and which has made my work possible. This discussion of scholars fiom fields as varied as authropology, queer theory , architecture, gmgraphy and women's studies will comprise Chapter 2 of this wark. In Chapter Preface / 13

3, 1 will discuss the current state of Sky, its history and its present day existence, with a particular emphasis on the everyday workings of the bar and the seeds of Sky's growth which seem to have always been present in its fom. Chapter 4 will describe the transformation of

Sky, from iü current state to the megaclub which is planned, with detailed analyses of the architectural plans, and the intentions behind such changes. The final chapter will be a theoretical discussion of such changes and the impact they could have on Montréal's gay village, on the "gay villagen as a concept, and on the lives of Montréal's gay men and women.

Although more and more academic work is now being done on both gay spaces and gay villages (Doyle: 1996)' my airn in this work is to focus specifically on the club as a site of cultural importance and possibility within an urban gay existence. By exarnining the site itself, both from an architectural perspective and through its cultural practices, I hope to achieve two goals. First, 1 intend to document the existence of certain gay spaces and practices in a particular case, that of Sky in Montréal. The academic documentation of such club cultures both affirms their importance and a!lows for critical cornparison; altbough the snidy of gay cultures and practices must transcend mere documentation, such descriptive work is both necessary and primary. How can one compare Canadian gay cultures in Toronto, Vancouver and Montréal if they are not first docurnented within each situation? Secondly, 1 intend to go beyond simple documentation, and to raise various analytical questions about gay club culhue. both on a practical and on a more theoretical level. How do certain club practices contribute to or detract fiom the formation of a gay community? Of gay cornmunities? What do clubs such as Slcy bode for the future of gay clubs in general? What are the ramifications of such possibilities? These questions fom the basis for my consideration of Sky and its situation Preface / 14 within Monrr&.i3 gay village. But once again, I am gening ahead of rnyself Before such an investigation can be pursued, the groundwork must be laid, and the theoretical underpinnings planteci. Chapter One Grounding the Sky: Research Paradigms and Theoretical Bases

Much research concerning gay spaces, gay practices and gay villages is currentiy

underway. In fact, "gay studies" seems to be exploding with vitality, as book after book

emerges, each of them detailing gay histories and gay lives. Yet, despite the current vogue for

such work, linle research on gay bars as both architectural and geographic sites for gay

practices exists. In fact, critical work on bars and dance clubs in general rarely extends beyond

some anthropological studies. This dearth of research requires the scholar interested in such

spaces to read widely from a variety of different disciplines, attempting to cobble together a

theoretical base from which to address the subject. This base, rooted in concems over the

nature of space as a social constnict, cm then be the launching pad for a number of different

inquiries into bar- and dance-club cultures, either gay or straight. Inquiring into notions of a

separate "queern space and into theories of the theme park, 1 hope to explore a number of

different possibie perspectives on the gay baddance-club, clearing theoretical room for a discussion of Sky itself.

The First Frontier: Space as Space?

The nature of space, and of its definition provide the starting point for this theoretical

investigation. The works of Henri Lefebvre and Arjun Appadurai provide remarkable insight

into this ongoing debate over space. Lefebvre, in his book me Production of Soace, asserts that " (Social) space is n (social) produa. " (Lefebvre: 26). Emphasizing this constructedness of space, Lefebvre also asserts that 'sociai space is constituied neither by a collection of things Chapter 11 16 or an aggregate of (sensory) data, nor by a void packed like a parce1 with various contents. and that it is irreducible to a 'form' imposed upon phenornena, upon things, upon materiality."

(Lefebvre: 27). Moreover, space cannot simply be read as a text, for this would reduce it sirnply to the status of message, and would reduce the "inhabiting of space to the status of a reading ." (Lefebvre: 7, emphasis in original).

However, Lefebvre seems to be unwilling to define what space, or the inhabiting of space, actually is: he spends a great deal of time discussing what space is not (not a container to be filled, not a form to be imposed, not a text to be read), but refuses to acnialiy begin to define his terms, except to Say that 'Space is social morphology. " (Lefebvre: 94). Instead,

Lefebvre focuses on the production of space, rather than the product itself. linking this production to the mode of production of each society: "every society - and hence every mode of production with its subvariants (Le. al1 those societies which exemplify the general concept)

- produces a space, its own space. " (Lefebvre: 3 1). From this point he argues:

If indeed eveq society produces a space, its own space. .. [a]ny 'social existence' aspiring or clairning to be 'real', but failhg to produce its own space, would be a strange entity, a very peculiar kind of abstraction unable to escape from the ideological or even the 'cultural' realm. It would fall to the level of folklore and sooner or later disappear aitogether, thereby immediately losing its identity, its denornination and its feeble degree of reality. (Lefebvre: 53)

The question of whether these generalizations can be applied to gay space is pressing; does the existence of a gay space presuppose a gay society? Can we even ask about gay space or can we only ask about gay uses of space? The answers to these questions require a rather convoluted series of theoretical negotiatiom. On one hand, Lefebvre denies the existence of monolithic social spaces whicb would be dominated by paradigm rhifts as various social Chapter 1/ 17 groups achieve and lose dominance. Rather he asserts the simultaneous existence of various social spaces: "We are confronted not by one social space but by many - indeed, by an unlimited multiplicity or uncountable set of social spaces which we refer to generically as

'social space'. No space disappears in the course of growth and development: the worldwide does nor abolish the local" (Lefebvre: 86). This statement would seem to indicate that gay space is at least possible, able to exist within other types of space to the same extent that a gay culture can exist within other types of cultures. Yet Lefevbre does not talk of cultures but of societies, and in his view, a society is equivalent to a 'mode of production". Of course, this emphasis on the mode of production in the social production of social space would beg the question of a gay mode of production, a notion which seems unlikely at the very least.

Homosexuaiity exists within various modes of production, including capitalism and late- capitalism and could hardiy be considered to have replaced capitalism. But if a gay culnire does not fea~reits own mode of material production, does it feature a specific mode of culnirai production? Do camp and drag, parody md performance2 constitute a specifically gay mode of cultural production? This too seems doubtful, since many aspects of a so-called gay culture also exist in other arenas: fags do not have exclusive rights to parody and camp.

Furthemore, any specific form of cultural production like camp or parody which can be found to be popular within one segment of gay culture may not be popular or even existent within another segment; gay culture is no more monolithic than any other culture.

Taking these problems with Infebvre's theories into account, 1 cannot admit the

'A la f udith Butler. Chapter l/ 18

existence of a distincrly. essentially gay space, at least in Lefebvrian terms; instead, we must

discuss the spaces that gay men and women use, that they inhabit, and through which they

move. George Chauncey is strong in his agreement, opening his article "Privacy Could Only

Be Had in Public': Gay Uses of the Saeetsn with these words: "There is no queer space; there

are only spaces used by queers or put to queer use. Space has no natural character, no inherent

meaning, no intrinsic stanis. .. ." (Chauncey: 224). Of course, some of the spaces used by

queers will be "more queern than others: although gay men and women may live in both the

gay village and the Plateau neighbourhoods of Montréal, one of these areas is more likeiy to

feanire a greater density of self-identified gay individuals, practices, and events. With these

differences in mind, perhaps we can admit that gay spaces do exist, at least as sites of a greater O density of gay individuals and practices. Such spaces are not necessarily categorically or essentially different than other types of spaces, but are simply used differently by different

people.

Yet the logic of these uses, of this density of practices necds to br: addressed. How

does a gay village corne into existence? Although the emergence of any particular gay village

depends on a historically- and contextually-specific series of events and situations (Jocelyn

Guindon, of McGill University, is currently working on the specific situation of Montréal's

gay village), we can perhaps speculate about the overarching rationales behind the creation of

a neighbourhood based on a (homo)sexualized entertainment. There seem to be two major

theories of the development of gay villages. Stephen Whittle, in his article "Consuming

differences: The collaboration of the gay body with the cultural staten places the emphasis on @ gay sema1 and entertainment practices. In his discussion of the gay village in Manchester, Chapter 11 19 England, Whittle notes how two "cottages' (public toilets) which were popularly known as cruising areas where men could go to meet other men either for sex in the cottage, or to meet and go elsewheren became the starting point for the entire village. "Near these sites were to develop bars where gay men in particuiar went" (Whinle: 32). Whittle then goes on to discuss how various bars opened in this area to serve the patrons of these cottages, bars which began to replace the cottages themselves as meeting sites. Appropriately enough, "when the 1967 law reforms enabled the first openly gay clubs in the city to open.. . [they were] sited near the main cruising areas" (Whittle: 33). Although Whittle does not provide any raticnale as to why those particular cottages became popular meeting places for clandestine male-male sexual encounters, Pattison "proposes that [gays] tend to seek social environrnents where they will not be conspicuous, and that mn-down imer-city neighbourhoods are inclined to possess this characteristic" (paraphrased in Bouthillette: 65): thus, although there may be merely circumsfmtial (architectural?) reasons why those two cottages became popular, there are larger social reasons why cottages in run-dom neighbourhoocis are sites of sexual encounters in the fust place.

Anne-Marie Bouthillette, although she also focusses on inner-city neighbourhoods, does not foreground sexual practices in her explmation of gay-village-formation. In her article

'Gentrification by gay male comrnunities: A case study of Toronto's Cabbagetownn,

Bouthillene places the emphasis for village-making on housing. In the specific case of

Toronto, Bouthillette identifies the fact that the Church-Wellesley area of the city was "one of the fmt downtown areas to have large quantities of apartments... well-suited to [a gay] household sbe (i.e. single) " and a gay urban iifestyle (Bouthiilette: 68). She continues, saying Chapter 11 20

that '[tlhere was, in fact, such a surplus of apartments in this particular area, that landlords

'didn't care who they rented them to'. thus paving the way for a 'gay invasion' of sortsn

(Bouthillette: 68). From here, she asserts chat once a sizable "gay population began focussing

itself dong Church Street between Carlton and Wellesley, the 'scene' began moving.. .until it reached the Church-Wellesley area, wbere it still thrives todayw (Bouthillette: 70). The assertion that small household sizes, and a preference of urban lifestyles would tend to lead gays and lesbians to locate themselves in certain areas of the city makes a great deal of sense; as a city develops, there will only be so many areas which will be hospitable to a single, urban tenant. Furthemore, Bouthillette asserts that this logic of concentration becomes self- perpetuating. As the gay village develops and many establishments offer a multitude of services to their gay clientele, older and wealthier (mainly white) gay men ofken gentrify downtown single-family homes near the village, thus adding large, well-appointed homes to the mix of bachelor apartments, full apartments and condominiums in the area. The ensuing diversity of housing choices thus avsilable to the gay individual allows "homosexuals to remain in the same area (as they grow older), thus reinforcing the gay identity of the area and giving gay-owned andlor gay-relateâ services a stable marketw(Bouthillette: 77). Thus, drawing on both Whittle and Bouthillette, we can assert that there are important sexual, social and structural/architectural reasons why certain spaces within the city develop into gay villages, gay spaces. These spaces exist for a reason.

These spaces also serve important functions: functions of production and reproduction, factors which Lefebvre foregrounds in his discussion of social space. Although Lefebvre's fiutional emphasis is on the semai reproduction of the workforce, a type of reproduction that Chapter 11 2 1

is somewhat uncommon in the queer community, gay spaces still play an important role in

reproduction - in the production and reproduction of gay cultures and spaces. Queer society

(culture) may not have a specific mode of production, or even a mode of cultural production,

but it is both a product and a producer; queers rnay not reproduce biologically , but they do

reproduce culturally, as individuals are e~culturatedinto certain forms of queer existence. Gay

spaces such as the village and the club are thus remarkably important for their dense

concentration of queers and queer practices: they provide a focal point for those who have

recently corne out, either to gravitate towards or to avoid; they provide quasi-public sites for

the (re)enactment of various social rituals within a gay surrounding; they provide sites for the

rise and fa11 of different aspects of gay culture, as this culture changes over the; and finally,

they provide the site for the debates about this cul~reitself. The ground an which these

CU~N~~Sand practices flourish, spaces such as the club and the village thus represent both the means and the relations of production: such spaces provide the means of production in that

they provide the physical material on which much of this culture is based i.e. the bars, the community centres, the dancefloors, and the AIDS mernonals; such spaces also provide the

relations of production in that they ernbody and munit the codes and practices which help to

shape gay cultures.

As Lefebvre says, social space is socially produced, and his assertion of the

simultaneous existence of a multiplicity of social spaces thus remains useful, raising issues of how such social spaces interact, how they coexist, and how the borders between such spaces operate. To address these issues of tram-spatiality, Arjun Appadurai's work on the theoretical trope of the landscape is remarkably evocatiue. Chapter 11 22

Appadurai' s article 'Disjuncture and Difference in the Global Cultural Economy " introduces the concept of -scapes. Assuming the existence of multiple social spaces, and dealing specifically with the disjunctures in the flow of culture between such spaces, the author asserts that 'today 's world involves interactions of a new order and intensity "(Appadurai,

1990: 1). Listing the " five dimensions of global cultural flown. Appadurai details '(a) ethnoscapes; (b) mediascapes; (c) technoscapes; (d) fmaoscapes; and (e) ideoscapes* as the landscapes which are the building blocks of "imagined worlds, that is, the multiple worlds which are constituted by the historically situated imaginations of persons and groups spread around the globe." (Appadurai, 1990: 6-7). Unfortunately, although the author introduces these useful-sounding terms, he does little to ground them in concems about space, leaving them as purely theoretically descriptive concepts. However. the -scapes thernselves as theoretical entities may prove usefbl in an investigation of social spaces. If one can consider

Lefebvre's "social spaces" as equivalent to Appadurai's 'imagined worlds * , perhaps

Appadurai has indeed provided soae tools with which we can work. Can we examine a social space in terms of ethnicity and technology, media, finance and ideology? More importantly can a social space be examined wifhour addressing such issues? Appadurai's -sapes clarify and delineate categories which various investigations can interrogate. For a social space need not be bounded to a specific locaiity; in fact, such gay spaces that do exist are often translocd, transnatimal spaces, inflected by locality . Yet, of course, the localness of a particular spacelplace is very important, as is the creation of a feeling of localness.

In "Tbe Production of Locality" Appadurai specifically addresses issues of locality and neighbourhoad-ness. His definitions are remarkably precise and useful: Chapter 1/ 23

1 view locality as primarily relational and contextual rather than as scalar or spatial. 1 see it as a complex phenomenological quality, constituted by a series of links between the sense of social immediacy. the technologies of interactivity and the relativiq of contexts. This phenomenological quality, which expresses itself in certain kinds of agency, sociality and reproducibility, is the main predicate of locality as a category (or subject) that 1 seek to explore.. . In contrast, 1 use the tem 'neighbourhood' to refer to the actually existing social fom in which locality, as a dimension or value, is variably realized. Neighbourhoods, in this usage. are situated communities characterized by their actuality, whether spatial or vimial, and their potential for social reproduction. (Appadurai, 1995: 204)

By differentiating between locality and neighbourhood, the author continues the clarifying process which began in " Disjuncture and Difference", and becomes much more usehil for a study such as the one undertaken here. Rather than focussing on capitalist (re)production like

Lefebvre. Appadurai focusses specifically on social reproduction, which seems far more suitable to a study of gay spaces and practices. In investigating gay spaces, and specifically a single building, this study cm attempt to address locality as realized in the neighbourhood of both the gay village as a whole and Sky in particular. Does Sky serve as a neighbourhood or is it attempting to be one? If so, how are the various senses of social immediacy, the technologies of interactivity and the relativity of contexts realized? This mode1 seems most useful as an investigative tool; space can thus be queried with specific agenda, yet the sociality of such space can be taken into account.

One interesting example of this kind of work is Benjamin Forest's article 'West

Hollywood as symbol: the significance of place in the construction of a gay identity". In this article, Forest demonstrates both the advantages and the pidalls of such a locaiized approach, as he attempts to deal with the creation of locality in a specific neighbourhood. Forest does not peform an analysis of the space of West Hollywood itself, but deals only with media Chapter 11 24 representations of that city, an approach that some Lefebvrians rnay hdproblernatic.

However, 1 believe that aithough cities are spaces to be inhabited (and analyzed), that although

they are social-practices as much as they are built structures. cities also exist as texts. Cities

exist for those who never set foot in them. New York City, Los Angeles, Paris, Rome and

Tokyo ail exist as texts for the citizens of the world. who encounter these cities in films and

books, newspaper articles and rock videos. In addition, cities exist as texts for those who

inhabit them; residents of a particular city experience the city as a signifying structure as they

wander through it, as they live their lives. At the same the, these inhabitants also experience

their city through mediated images like newscasts and sitcoms . The city is both a text and a

signibing lived-experience. Similarly, West Hollywood exists as a city within a gay imagined

world, and Forest's attempt to illuminate the creation of West Hollywood ar a mediated tais

both a valid and useful one. Forest explains:

Using place as a symbol tends to mask the socially constructed nature of gay identiry, so that it takes on a 'natural' existence. The narrative construction of a 'gay city', and thus the attempt to create an identity based on more than sexual acts, suggests that the gay press sought to portray gayness as akin to ethnicity, in contrast to the homophobic characterizations of gayness as a perversion, sickness or moral failure." (Pg. 134)

According to Forest, the gay press (by which he means weekly newspapers or 'news

magazines' targeted towards gay men) "did not seek to portray itself as an objective recorder

of events, but actively developed a mode1 of a 'gay city'." (Forest: 141). Forest lists seven

actual characteristics that the gay press associated with a gay identity, and &us with West

Hollywood as a gay city: "creativity, aesthetic sensibility, an orientation toward entertainment 0 or consumption, progressiveness, responsibility, maturity , and centrality ." (Forest: 133). Chapter 11 25

Using stereotypes of gay identity, reconfiguring them and emphasizing their "positive" and

'normativen aspects, the gay press thus located both West Hollywood and gay men in general

on the map of American values, not far from the rnainstream. This normalizing required a

process of simplifying a remarkably complex gay identity and a remarkably complex urban

fom: the city. Asserting that the "capacity to experience place as a whole helps to resolve the

interna1 contradiction of identity", Forest claims "that the use of Pest Hollywood as] a

holistic symbol was an attempt to resolves these contradictions. Thus the use of place in this

fashion was a political decision, one which exploited the unique capacity of place to be

experienced holistically. " (Forest: 134- 135). Although Forest's claim that space has a 'unique capacity .. . to be experienced holistically " may be somewhat problematic, his article presents a

usehl foi1 to Lefebvre's discussions of space.

Taken together, Lefebvre, Appadurai and Forest provide a remarkably sound starting point for research into areas of space, community and identity. Space must not be taken for granttd as a given, a vesse1 filled with "thingsn, but neither wn its texnial elements be

ignored. Furthemore, space exists and is localized into specific neighbourhoods which feature both built structures and particular pattern of social interaction and agency. Al1 of these things must be taken into account in a discussion of a space such as Sky.

Architectures of Difference: Space as Queer?

Although the space of the gay dancetlubhr has not been the subject of much critical work, a number of scholars have been investigating notions of a queer space: literally , spaces made forfby queers. Architecture and architects in particular have been in the forefront of these discussions, attempiing to explore the creatioo of spaces for particular needs and groups. Chapter 1/ 26

Specifically, an exhibit callecl Houe Rules, first held at the Wexner Center in Columbus, Ohio

attempted to pair architects with cultural theorists for a re-vision of suburbia, redesigning the

suburban home for different social groups. A team made up of Benjamin Gianni, Scott Weir,

Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick and Michael Moon initiated a project entitled "Playing it Straight",

which "set out to examine how the house functions as an eroticised zone for the queer

adolescent" (Gianni et al: 37). Designing a suburban home, the team thus attempted to link

theory and practice, to actually provide a space for queers in the suburbs. An examination of

this space, this design and the accompanying article, "Queerying (Single Farnily) Space" will

provide a look into some of the issues circulating in architecture theory about queer space.

The CO-authoredarticle "Queerying (Single Family) Space" is made up of two different

and separate narratives, and includes many architectural plans and playhl drawings taken from

the Playing it Straight project. The two narratives in the article have little to do with each

other: the fust is called 'Queerying Theory" and is a response to New York Times reviewer

Herbert Muschamp's negativc review of the House Rules exhibit; the second is called "Playing

it Straight" and is simply a description of the project itself, the architecture, and the

motivation behind it. This bi-sected structure of the article mirrors the plan of the house

designed for the project. The house itself is bisectable: "Two houses in one! The house divides

easily into separate two bedroom houses. Rent or sel1 to a fkiend! Extend the family!" (Gianni

et al.:36). Füi-bermore, the house itself is a hybrid of two different design ideas, "projecting a

freestanding garage out to the Street while preserving and retrofitting the semidetached garage

with a FROG (finished room over garage).": both a semidetached garage and a freestanding

0 garage in a single house (Gianni et al. : 32). But the article dso features the designs and Chapter 11 27

drawings from the original show. which featured 1950s-style ad-copy extolling the virtues of

the design: "Kids grown and gone? How about a studio or bachelor apartment? The second

stair allows you to rent out a portion of the house - or to accommodate a relativen (Gianni et

al. : 36). This quasi-kitschy , semi-campy text is both serious and self-parodic, and the article's

binary structure thus becomes unstable: is this text meant to be taken seriously? The wealth of

tones, topics and graphic design styles within this single article reflects the design of the house

itself, which has been created specifically to encourage flexibility and creative uses of space.

Based not on the nuclear farnily but on notions of extended and perhaps "chosen" families, the

design is easily manipulable with five entryways into the house fiom the main floor. and

sections of the house which could be easily hived off into semi-separate dwellings.

This emphasis on the rnultifaceted, however, appears sornewhat problematic; the

flexibility ernphasized in both the design and the accompany ing text cannot be seen as

inherently queer. For a space to be queer, it would have to express the essence of queerness

which. for Sedgwick and the project, "is experienced by any man, woman or child who holds

the category "normal" both at a distance and in some regardn (Gianni et al: 37). Such a

definition disregards the specificity of homosemal existences and practices, in which men

actually sleep and have sex with men and women with women. The jettisonhg of this fact is problematic both from the perspective of the theory expressed in the article and of the actual design itself. Emphasized in the title of the project ("Playing it Straight") visual conformity dominates the exterior, as the house appears like a nomial suburban home while "hiding" the secret of its flexible floor-plan: 'Not visible on the exterior, these changes can be made without breaching the social contract of commdty consensus" (Gianni et al.: 37). The house Chapter 11 28 is still in the closet, so to speak. The design team frarned these decisions in tenns of market forces and ideology :

we were concemed that we not move too far afield of a recognizable suburban mode1 - in order to propose a solution that might function credibly in the suburban marketplace. (Gianni et al. : 3 1)

Playing it straight, then, refers to a strategy for balancing the realities of diversity against the demand for anonymity and conformity. Within the value- laden suburban milieu, difference is tolerated only to the extent that it is masked with the appropriate facade. Playing it straight is the suburban strategy par excellence. (Gianni et al: 37)

These statements reflect an ahistorical approach to suburbia, and an uncritical attitude towards it. The article refuses to be specific about the values of suburbia, and articulates strategies for the acceptance of difference without ever interrogating or problematizing the assumed

"sameners" of the suburbs. Sirnilarly, the design straregy assumes that these characiers of suburbia, the unstated values and the assumed homogeneity, will never change. Rather than being willing to be outwardly different, to display difference and thus to perhaps encourage heterogeneity and to challenge the unstated values, the design bows to pressure and 'passesn.

This is not a house that Queer Nation built.

Yet the interior of the house itself appears to be a usehl and interesting rnodel. Since there is no single experience of queemess or hornosexuaiity the house simply attempts to be an open space, holding rnany possibilities within it. 'Being not "properlyn architectural, sexuali~ exceeds the purview of the architect. For us the question became less how queerness might be staged by the architect, than how it is anticipateci and accommodated within the domestic environment.. . [Queemess] is more a strategy than a spacen (Gianni et al. : 38). Thus the Chapter 11 29 flexibility designed into the household attempts to welcome queerness, and different uses of

the space. The text of the advertisements, however, casts almost everything in tenns of

economics and biological family. Constantly discussing the benefits of the flexible design in

temof either "rentingwthe space (for economic gain) or welcoming member of an extended

(biological) family, the ad-copy in the article itself completely elides the sexuality aspects of

the project. Furthermore, the flexibility programmed into the household is not necessarily

something that need be programmed. Certainly the possible divisions of the house into separate

households are supported and encouraged by the plan itself, but the creative uses of space that

are also encouraged occur in alrnost any house, regardless of the design. AnnMarie Adams'

article "The Eichler Home: Intention and Experience in Postwar Suburbia" stresses this point,

detailing both the highly programmatic design of the Eichler homes and the actual experience

of a farnily who lived in one of them. The family in question used the house in very different

ways than it was intended to be used by the architect, thus demonstrating that ail of the design

intention in the world cmot detennine how a space will acrually be used.

Although the Gianni et al. article eventually adrnits that sexuality and queerness is not sornething that can be captured by the architect, that there is no such thing as an inherently queer space, its emphasis on flexibility and multiplicity within a single structure remains useful and interesting, especially in the case of Sky. The flexible uses of space, the inclusion of a number of different "families" within a single structure, the blanlmess of the facade in relation to the complexity of the interior, al1 of these elements of the Gianni house are present in Sky.

In addition, the emphasis in the Gianni et al. article on the economics of the design, the

"underlying assumption. .. that a house that is easily altered to accamrnodate a variety of Chapter 11 30 living, financial and tenancy arrangements would function well in the marketplace" has a great deal of relevance for Sky as well (Gianni et al. :37).Sky too exists within the marketplace and attempts to accommodate the varieties of queemess that exist.

It9sA Srnail World After AU: Spce as Themepark

The attempt to accommodate variety, to create a space of multiplicity has become one of the centrai concerns of the entertainment industry. As the consuming public becomes more and more differentiated, with more and more specific tastes, the notion of mass entertainment begins to lose its validity; narrowcasting replaces broadcasting as the mode of information dissemination. The cinema multiplex, the 500-channel universe, the audio superstore and the theme-park al1 express aspects of this changing nature of entertainment. Yet for academics the theme-park has stood out as somehow different than the other examples, an icon for the

(post)modern world. In particular, Disneyland has been the focus of a great deal of critical attention in books such as Variations on a Theme Park: The New American Citv and the End of Public Smce, a collection of essays which bemoans the "theme-parkingn of Arnerica. These essays discuss the (supposed) changes in the nature of space and place, as it becomes a self- knowing cultural product, not produced by the people but for the people, as it becomes a primarily economic rather than social experience. Embodied in Sorkin's essay "See You in

Disneyland", these concems present both problernatic and useful ways for conceptualizing both entertainment in the late 20th century and Sb as a particular site within that entertainment paradigm.

Sorkin's essay muses on Disneyland as a concept, as a metaphor for space in late 20th century North America. The author begins by tracing Disneyland's ancestry through the Chapter 11 3 1

World's Fairs, an ancestry Sorkin views as based in an ideology of plenty and diversity, but

inflected with a practical utopianism.

There are more than ample precedents for such weird compendia: circuses, festivals, and fairs have long been with us.. .. Both circus and Disney enteriainment are anti-mivalesque, feasts of atomization, celebrations of the existing order of things in the guise of escape from it, Fordist fun. Disneyland, of course, also descends from the amusement park.. . Like Disneyland, Coney Island offered itself as a kind of opposition, an Arden of leisure in symbiosis with the workaday city . (Sorkin: 208)

Sorkin emphasizes Disneyland's descent from the Garden City Movement and its

ovenvhelming interest in technology. First opened in 1955, Disney's theme-park was heralded

by publicity that clairned that "Disneyland will be something of a fair, an exhibition, a

playground, a cornmunity center, a museum of living facts, and a showplace of beauty and

magic." (quoted in Sorkin: 206). The author asseris that this wealth of planning goals and the

diversity of elements that make up Disneyland present a strange combination of both mass

appeal and specifically-targeted entertainments. " [Alrranged in thematic fiefs (Tomorrowland,

Frontierland, etc.) which flow into one anothern, Disneyland was a very consciously-created

multiplex, providing something for everyone, for every taste, wiihin reason (Sorkin: 215).

Sorkin compares this arrangement to that of television:

Television and Disneyland operate similarly, by means of extraction, reduction and recombination, to create an entirely new , antigeographical space .. . Disneyland, with its channel-turning rningle of history and fantasy, realiv and simulation, invents a way of encountering the physical world that increasingly characterizes daily life. The highly regulated, completely synthetic vision provides a simplified, sanitized experience that stands in for the more undisciplined complexities of the city. (SorLin: 208) a The author's emphasis on Disneyland as the ultimately-connolled, highly-regulated garden city Chapter 11 32 attempts to create the impression of a peflectly-regulated city culture. For Sorkin, Disneyland

represents an Orwellian urbanity, wholly owned and controlled by a single entity which keeps

the theme-parklcity completely regulated. However, Disneyland, like any other Company or

city , has troublesome employees, loud and undisciplineci areas, and fractious visitors, a fact

which Sorkin seems to ignore. Granted such employees and visitors may be expelled from the

tightly-controlled Garden of Disney, but their existence and their disruption of that control is

very important. Furthemore, Sorkin believes that Disney's perfectly regulated city has in fact

already infected "true" urbanism. "The urbanism of Disneyland is precisely the urbanism of

universal equivalence. In this new city, the idea of distinct places is dispersed into a sea of

universal placelessness as everywhere becomes destination and any destination can be a anyplace. The world of traditional urban arrangements is colonized by the penetration of a new multinational corridor, leading always to a single human subject, the monadic consumer. "

(Sorkin: 217).

It is exactly this dichotorny between the 'real" and the Disney city that becomes

problematic. Sorkin's article is filled with a vague homage to the real, to the "authentic", a

concept that becomes unclear when investigated closely. In his discussion of the "national

pavilions " at Disneyworld, the author bemoans " [tlhe whole system [which] is validated. .. by

the fact that one has literally travelled, that one bas, after dl, chosen to go to Disneyland in

lieu of any of the actual geographies represented. One has gone nowhere in spite of the

equivalent ease of going somewhere. One has preferred the simulation to the reality. For

millions of visitors, Disneyland is jus like the world, only better." (Sorkin: 216). This

emphasis an authenticity se- sornehow acceptable when disnissing uiuntries and taurism: Chapter 11 33 after dl, an actual Norway does exist, although it too is a socially-constructed entity made up of economics and myths, knick-knacks and theme-parlcs. Yet Sorkin refuses to accept that many of the visitors to Disneyland may derive great pleasure, gratification, and even empowerment from their visit to the theme-park, perhaps as much or more so than a trip to the

"actuain Nonvay. Jirn Collins, in his book Architectures of Excess presents a scathing critique of Sorkin's book, particularly his concepts of authenticity.

Sorkin's insistence that everything is now part of a singular 'TV systemn is a perfect exarnple of a master-narrative which must totaiize at al1 costs.. . [For Sorkin t]he only signifiant categories an, quite predictably .. . the demonized present versus the better , 'realer " used-to-be.. .What is conspicuously absent ftom mis] mythology is any sense of how the actual inhabitants make the landscape into their life-scapes, how they develop what de Certeau refers to as the local "ways of operatingn in which they take place, developing their own geographies that make their environments legible in their own terms. (Collins: 38-39)

Collins contradicts Sorkin, asserting that the social value of cemin spaces "is not a matter of intrinsic essence but of their use and exchangeability."

Collins' critiques of Sorkin make a great deal of sense, particularly when considering the theme-park as a conceptual tool for investigating a wide variety of cultural issues. We may want to investigate the syntheticization of the so-called real world in popular culture, in which a replica of Columbus' Santa Maria tloats in an artificial lagoon in the middle of the West

Edmonton Mal1 surrounded by live penguins and electronically-controI1ed rubber sharks

(Crawford: 3); we cannot, however, simply denigrate such developments but rnust address how people acnially use the spaces, tahg pleasure and power from them.

To conceptuaiize the newly-renovated Sky as a theme park makes sense as well: in

Sorkin's words, Sky is "arrangeci in thematic fiefs which flow into one another"; it works by a Chapter 11 34 method of extraction, reduction and recombination; it is also focussed on the single human subject, the consumer. Yet the acnial practices that take place within such a space must be considered; the design of the space itself always features sites for both control and resistance, and these must be noted. Furthemore, Sorkin's emphasis on travel as the underlying concept of the theme-park may not be applicable to Sky . Located not on the peripheries but at the centre, a visit to Sky does not require any more or less travel than a visit to the village itself.

In fact, the "sirnulated village" (if one is willing to cal1 it such) is located within the hem of the "real village". These critiques of Sorkin's perspective however do not deuact from the value of his observations about the organization and ownership of space. Taken together,

Sorkin and Collins provide a useful method for conceptualting Sky as a theme-park for the urban fag.

Movements in the Dark: Space as Dance Club

If Sky can be considered in terms of a theme-park with a number of different "areas" or spaces, it must be admitted that one of the most important spaces within the complex itself is the dance club. Unfortunately, the shidy of dance as a pop-culture practice in Western society has generally been ignored, as have the sites of such practices, the dance clubs themselves. Yet in one of the earliest academic studies of dancing and the discotheque, Lucille Hollander Blum asserts the importance of such research. She believes that the disco is "compatible with and an apparent ernergent of the tempo of the tirne'' (Blum:293). Angela McRobbie stresses the connections between dance and dancing and other social forms: dance "has not only an integral relationship with music, but also with youth culture, fashion and style." (McRobbie: 139). Stuart

Borthwick is in good academic company whm he links Bahktb's notion of carnival and dance Chapter 11 35 clubs. Most writen who talk specifically about the "disco'? rnovement in the 70s and now re- emergent in the 90s emphasize its existence as more than just a dance style: disco is a sensibility that incorporates the music, the clubs, the clothing, the attitude and the ever-elusive notion of lifestyle. However, despite this recent surge of academic interest in dancing and dance clubs, linle emphasis has been placed on the club itself as an architecturai site of particular social practices. Still, these practices, and the academic discussions of them may contribute to an understanding of the space itself, both architectural and social.

Angela McRobbie's germinal article "Dance and Social Fantasy" places a good deal of importance on the erotically-charged nature of dancing. She asserts that dance "carries enonnously pieaurable qualities for girls and women which frequently seem to suggest a displaced, shared and nebulous eroticism rather than a straightforwardly romantic, heavily heterosexual 'goal-oriented' one" (McRobbie: 134). Similarly, dance is seen as importantly erotic for women in Leslie Gotfiit's "Women Dancing Back". Although she acknowledges that dancing and dance clubs are imbncated with rnany different notions and stcreotypcs of masculinity and femininity, some of which are simply oppressive, Gotfrit emphasizes the

"multiplicity of pleasure that women may find in going out dancing" (GotWt: 175). This multiplicity is not simply the province of women, however, but is available to everyone. The central pleasures in this multiplicity, for Gotfiit at least, are those of publicity and sexuality.

''The dance floor is a rare public place where letting go of the tight rein women often keep on their sexuality is possible ...as dancing permits and fiees the body to expenence sensuality and desire ..." (Gotfiit : 178-9). McRobbie agrees stating that:

The dancehall or disco offers a darkened space where the dancer cm retain Chapter 1/ 36

some degree of anonymity or absorption. This in turn creates a ternporary blotting-out of the self, a suspension of the real, daylight consciousness, and an aura of dream-like sel f-reflection. (McRobbie: 144)

Although much of the current writings on dance and dance clubs focuses particularly on wornen and their expenences, the descriptions and theories of the clubs themselves can apply to alrnost any dance club. The "darkened space where the dancer can retain some degree of anonymity" could be a gay club or a straight club. This anonymity is captured in the rather blank facades of most dance clubs, reminiscent of the blankness of the Gia.suburban household. Yet the importance of the "publicity" in Gotfrit 's writing problematizes such anonymity. How public is the act of dancing if it occurs in faceless buildings, among other anonyrnous individuals?

Furthemore, how anonyrnous is such dancing if one actually goes dancing on a regular basis, eventually coming to know the staff, and the other patrons of a particular dance club or scene?

According to McRobbie, the act of dancing in a dance club features a "dramatic display of the self and the body, with an equally dramatic negation of the self and the bodyy'(McRobbie: 144).

These tensions between display and negation, between publicity and anonymity should be investigated as possible tropes in the design of the spaces: are such contradictory goals promoted by the club itself?

Yet if al1 dance clubs feature a number of sirnilar issues, sorne dance-scholars assert the specificity of certain club cultures. In his article 'The Dialectics of Disco", Andrew Kopkind focusses on the history of disco, stating that "The disco club was the first entertainment institution of gay life." (Kopkind: 14). Similarly, Stuart Borthwick focusses on rave-culture, depicting it as anti-state, as attempting '%O fil1 the space won in the hegemonic battle with the state with 'a cornpletely different, nonoficial, extraecclesiastical and extrapolitical aspect of the Chapter 11 37

I world, of man, of human relations' (Bahktin, 1984, p.6)" (Borthwick: 3). But what kinds of

"space" do such cultures have to fill? Do disco-clubs and rave-clubs differ significantly in both

architectural and practical aspects fiom other types of dance-clubs? Sky embodies many of these

concerns since it incorporates at least two different music-scenes and dance floors: how does Sky

architecturally and practically differentiate between its different imer-clubs? Similarly, the

dance-club portions of Sky do not exist in a vacuum but within the entirety of the Sky-cornplex.

How does the dance club relate both socially and architecturally to the space of the restaurant and

the pub, the show bar and the cruising bar? The work of scholars such as McRobbie and Kopkind

raises these issues as much by their discussion of dancing as a practice and a culture as by their

omission of the clubs themselves. McRobbie and Kopkind notwithstanding, the club, the space

itself must be taken into consideration; it is not just the dancea, but also the dance club that

matters.

Sky: More than the Sum of Its (Theoretical) Parts

Sky, as a dance club, as a large entertainment cornplex, as a gay bar, simply as a space

within the city, presents a complicated challenge to any inquiry. Although this investigation of

Sky concentrates on the site as both a built structure and a site for social practices, Lefebvre's

and Appadurai's work reminds me that 1 must be both wary of treating the space simply as a

vesse1 to be filled, and ready to deal with the textual and physical manifestations of these

structures and practices. Furthemore, Gianni's project on queer housing Bags the importance

of flexibility and the market when considering the design of any 'gay spaces"; Sky, with its a multiplicity of rooms and its current economic expansion would seem ripe for this kind of Chapter II consideration. At the same time, Sorkin's and Collins' work demanstrates the need to rerist

making reductioninst critiques of Sky for its "simulated" nature; 1 need to avoid authenticist

claims about Sky and its relations to Montréal's gay village. Finally, the works of Borthwick

and McRobbie assert the ceatrality of the dance-club for a consideration of sexual and identity-

politics; the historical and physical centrality of the dance-clubs within Sky once again calls

for an investigation which acknowledges the importance of the dance-floor as a site of identify

formation. Thus, in the investigation that follows, 1 will atternpt to touch on al1 aspects of the

establishment, addressing the architecture and design, the advertisements and metaphors, the

managers and the clientele. Procuring information through formal interviews and casual

conversations, architectural analysis and community involvement, I intend to filter this data a through the aforementioned theoretical lenses of Lefebvre and Sorkin, Gianni and McRobbie, Collins and Appadurai. Through this multiplicity of lenses, 1 hope to reveal a portrait of a club

within a gay village: Sky in Montréal. a Chapter Two Tensions in the Sky: Unity and Diversity in the Operations of a Montréal Gay Bar

Sky is a rernarkable business, an important site in Montreal club culture, and a growing

power within the gay village. Even without considerhg the renovations currently underway,

Sky remains a fascinating example of a club occupying a privileged place in the panoply of

clubs that make up a city's scew. How does such a club operate? How did it begin? What are

the niles, spoken and unspoken, of managing, working, or dancing at such a club?

Sky is also a large and complex site, made up of two buildings, three floors, ten rooms

and a multitude of social practices. Despite this multiplicity, the various elements cohere into

a single unit: it is al1 Sb.The tensions between the unity of Sky as a single structure, and the

diversity of its patrons, managerial practices, personnel allocations, and promotional materials

reveal a remarkably complex series of negotiations and cohabitations. As the gay cornmunity

becornes more and more diverse, these negotiations will become increasingly important. Thus,

Sky presents a revealing portrait of a club which exists in the tension between unity and

diversity .

Pierre Viens: Master of the Sky

Pierre Viens is synonymous with Sky. The man behind the bar, Viens has been a

player in the Montréal club scene for 25 years. Starting as a busboy, Viens then moved

through the service industry ranks, becoming 'a waiter, then a barman, then [he] started to

manage clubs in 1981." (Viens Interview: June 6, 19%). Viens conceived of Sky in 1993,

having been a consultant for important Montréai clubs like Metroplis. Interesthgly, Viens Chapter 2 1 40

owns neither the buildings at 1474 and 1488 Ste. Catherine Est where Sky is located, nor the

actual business iiself. The building is owned by François Tousignant (referred to by his staff

as 'le géant' because of his power in the village) and the business itself is owned by Gilles

Trudeau, a friend of Viens (Viens Interview, July 10 1996). Viens is thus an interesting

figure, the public face of Sky and the conceptualist behind it but, in theory at least, having no

ownership. He describes the situation:

1 don? own it: I'm kind of the director. When we smed, 1 was the only one here, because it was very small. 1 knew the guy who had the building and who had the businesses and it was empty. So I said "Well I'm going to have a project for you." And so we started out very small. When it got bigger and bigger and bigger, 1 saw that 1 had to hire assistants.. . 1 don? own the place, but I'm the big boss let's say. (Viens Interview, July 10 1996) a However, when he talks about the operation of the business, Viens refers to Gilles Trudeau and himself collectively as "we", saying that 'we're rentiag the place, we don't own the

building" (Viens Interview, July 10 1996); this would seem to indicate that Viens may in fact

be part-owner. This confrision about Viens' actUd statu continues in other realms, even

among his employees. Sky DJ Robert Goulet, also known as Bobzilla, was unclear and even a

bit mysterious about Viens' status in relation to Sky:

1 can't really go into details about this but what happens is everythmg's under his name, I've heard. There's a higher power, but he is the highest that we can talk to. He's the big manager. (Goulet Interview, July 9 1996)

This mur@ conception of the acaial structure of Sky and its ownership is typical of the

Montréal club culture. In a city infamous for the strength of its organized crime, many of the

clubs and restaurants are nunoured or understood to be owned by either the nebulous mafia or

'the biker gangs", most prominently the Hell's Angels . Thus, the confvsion over the Chapter 2 1 41 ownership of Sky, the dichotomy between its public face and its actual ownership is far from unusual .

Viens, whatever his official status with regards to the ownership of Sky, wields a great degree of control over the enterprise. When asked who conceived of the renovations, of the

'new Skyw he answered unequivocally: "men (Viens Interview: June 6 1996). Furtherrnore, he is the individual who makes the important decisions regarding club DJs, policies etc. Viens hired Goulet, the in-house DJ on one of Sky's two dance floors, simply because the two of them had worked together at another club in the city, The Beat. This sort of networking is typical of club cultures and has strongly shaped Sky's current structure. From the first year of its existence, Sky has had two distinct dance floors. These dance floors are located in different rooms in different parts of the club, separated by both a nondance-oriented bar-space and an area for playing pool. Despite this distance, these areas originally feanired the same dance- music; this single soundtrack for two physically separate dance floors did not last long, however. Drag queen Mado's performances on the lrirger dance floor created problems for rhe smaller dance space: the performance could not be seen, but still interrupted the dance-music on the smailer floor. To alleviate this problem, Viens asked Goulet to DJ the smaller dance space during Mado's shows, so that people could continue to dance. Goulet began playing music distinctly different from that being played on the larger floor including tracks by

Depeche Mode, Nine Inch Nails, and Heaven 17. This switch to so-called Alternative music worked well for Goulet; he explains:

And then I played the Alternative and Pierre [Viens] liked what I played 'cause it was ail songs that reminded him of The Beat and he said "You know, maybe we cm do something with this." And then we stand having Alternative Nights Chapter 2 / 42

and since then ifs been going up. But it was like some son of coincidence. 1 wanted to do it, when he asked me.. .. So 1 started that side [of the club]. (Goulet Interview: July 9, 1996)

Thus the problerns posed by the spatial organization of the dance floors within Sky were

solved by Viens' acquaintanceship with Goulet, and led to the inclusion of Alternative music

within the gay club scene in Montréal. Such a series of events, resuiting in a new club space

within the village, seems coincidental and in many ways it is. Montréal's club scene is not

limitless, however, and since both Goulet and Viens have been working in that scene for over

15 years. moving in and out of the gay village, it is inevitable they would have worked

together at some point. Thus, although the combination of Viens and Goulet need not

necessarily have resulted in the creation of an Alternative dance floor at Sky, their previous @ connection through the Alternative club The Beat heightened the possibility . In any club acene,

certain venues and club-styles tend to be recreated again and again, in part due to the long-

term presence of individuals such as Viens and Goulet. It is important to note, however, that

although it was the confluence of Viens and Goulet which resulted in the creation of the

Alternative dance floor, this space's continuecl existence - like most things at Sky - is

contingent upon Viens' goodwill. Goulet is very well aware of this fact, and understands that

Viens has tbe final word: le petit geant.

Practice Makes Perfect: The Ddy Operation of Sky

Viens, of course, is not the only power at work in Sky. Each of the approximately 100

employees of the complex (DJs, bartenders, drag queens, busboys, etc.) and 1000s of patrons

exists within a network of practices and power-relations that empower as well as constrain Chapter 2 1 43 them. Cover charges, beer buses, and special requests shape the experience of Se as much as

the architectural constmction of the space itself. Al1 of these things must be addressed within

an investigation into the actual workings of the Skyçomplex as a whole, a tnily complicated

set of spaces and practices. Existing on three separate floors and in two distinct but linked

buildings, the spaces are divided rnanagerially, econornically and practically as well as

architecturally. Furthemore, the establishment is also divided chronologically, operating different theme-nights on a weekly rotation. The following sections address these divisions and

the unities that bridge them.

Sky-Pub and Resto Bleu: Outer Distinction and Inner Division

The first floor of the Sky-complex contains Sky Pub and Resto Bleu, both of which were derigned by Montreal archirect JeamDenis LeBlanc. Both the Pub and the Resto (as they are referred to by Viens) feature street entrances, separate from each other, which help to make the spaces appear distinct. The facades of these separate sections are very different as well, contributing to the impression of distinctness. The facade of Resto Bleu, at 1488 Ste.

Catherine Est, features dark woods and vertical windows, red brick and arcing blue awnings; the recessed entryway is fianked by two concrete pillars and is guarded by a gate of swirling wrought-iron. Detail work is generally inset, windows recessed. These elements contribute to an impression of warmth and genteel age: an older building, subdued yet imbued with an urbane class. The facade of Sky Pub, located at 1474 Ste. Catherine Est, presents a very different image. At street Level the building is dorninated by large garagedoor windows, silver metal-and-glass contraptions that allow the Pub to open onto the street during the summer. The Chapter 2 1 44 upper portion of the building is poured concrete, divided into large squares, a monotone grey which is broken occasionally by diamond-shaped windows and rectangular grates. Here the detail work is generally bas-relief, jutting out from the facade. These elements combine to convey an impression of chu- modernism, urban and cool.

Yet at the same the, the Pub and the Resto are connected intemally , with a large open doorway between the two spaces, covered only with a hanging velvet curtain. Thus the spaces which are so painstakingly distinguished on the exterior are linked on the interior. Originally, the dividing wall between the two spaces also featured a number of open-windows, çontaining stylized metal bars and srnall fish-tanks, further linking the spaces; these openings. however. allowed too much of the noise fiom the Pub to disturb the tranquil diners in the Resto, so they were glassed in. Still, the visual link between the two spaces rernains. Similarly, a service corridor opens from the Pub into the kitchen of the Resto, allowing busboys access from one area to another, and allowing the Pub patrons a view into the backstage of the restaurant. A number of design elernents also link the spaces , such as the use of hardwoods and LeBlanc's trademark curves. The staff, however, are more divided. Viens is very adamant about the separation between staff workhg at the restaurant and staff working at the Pub: "If you work at the restaurant, you work at the restaurant. If you work at rbe pub, you stay at the pub. I don? mix [my staffl. Because it's different custorners, different clientele, it's a different type of staff too.. ." (Viens Interview: June 6, 1996). Viens also has a separate manager for the

Resto and the Pub, thus creating bureaucratie differences between the two spaces. Thus, the main floor of Slry appears to be a complicated jumble of signals. Linked yet separate, with distinct facades and managerial structures, the Pub and the Resta seem to be linked more by Chapter 2 / 45

their shared ownership by Pierre Viens and their shared design by LeBlanc than by specific

practices. This observation, however, may be somewhat problematic when the spaces are

considered in contrast to the Club.

Covering the Scene: Admissions and the Economy of Hipness

The upper two floon of the Sky complex contain Sky itself: the big-time fag bar. This

barldance-club is a sprawling affair in its own right, with an average nightly attendance of

approximately 1000 people on each of the Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights that

it is open (Viens Interview: July 10, 1996). Opening nightly at 10 p.m. the club regularly charges an admittance fee of four dollars, a price in keeping with that of other local clubs, both gay and straight. This cover charge admits one to the vast world of Sky-Club, inciuding two dance floors each with their own DJ, numerous pool tables, and a cabaret: a single cover charge for a multiplicity of spaces. One's hand is stampeâ and thus one can enter and exit the club al1 evening, gaining and re-gaining admittance freely. Viens likens it to a "big package; if y ou prefer , bou cm] go to the main dancefloor, the alternative dancefloor .. . [or] to the cabaret; you have different choices, but it's still the same price." Yet although the Club itself opens at 10 Pm., the cover charge does not corne into effect until 11 p.m. This practice is as

standard as it is revealing.

Every club wants to give the impression of being exciting, of being a "happening

placen filled with "happening people": an empty club is as bad for the club-owner as it is for the club-goer arriving. Thus, the practice of having ''free admission" up until a certain point in the evening ensures that when the "paying customers" arrive later, there will at least be a few budget-conscious early-birds there popdathg the space. This presenîe is cnsured because Chapter 2 1 46

when a patron is admitted fiee-of-charge, s/he does not get hislher hand starnped, and thus

cannot leave and regain admittance. These "early birdsn cannot have their hand starnped (and

thus leave with impunity) until after 1 1 p.rn., the point at which the cover charge is enforced

and the paying customers have begun to arrive. In addition, these club-goers who gain free

admittance and cannot leave with impunity until after 11 p.m. are thus present in the club-

space for a longer period of tirne than the other club-goers and wiil presumably consume more

alcohol. In this way, the practice of free-admission to early-birds manages to populate the Club

for the paying customers while maintainhg the early-birds themselves as profit-creating

custorners.

This practice, although common, reveals an interesting aspect of the club-economy: an

economy of hipness. The club-goers themselves are as much a selling point of the Club as any

other aspect of the Club itself, be it the DJ or the design. Thus, Sky effectively pays people to

arrive early, to be there when the others arrive, and punishes them if they leave. Even the

paying customers are 3 part of this economy of hipness: many of the skilied dancers and the

beautifil people pay the cover-charge, yet they are part of the attraction to the Club itself. In

fact, occasionally certain clubs will give outstanding individuals free admittance, because they

help to create the impression that the club wants to foster. Drag queens, for example, almost

never pay a cover charge at any bar in Montréal's gay village. Frequent club-goers, fixtures of the local scene also rarely have to pay the admittance fee. This 'fiee-membern status often grows out of the acquaintance-ships that fom in a club culture - the doorman may choose to

let hisher friends in for fkee - and fosters the creation of Ml-time club-going culture: afier dl, it ir eaiaer to maintain a club presence when admission is fiee. In fact, -y longtime Chapter 2 1 47

Montréal club-goers consider fiee admission to be their right, something that they have emed by virtue of their longstanding relationship to the local club scene. Thus, the effort that these individuais expend to create themselves as members of the club-scene benefits both the clubs and thernselves. The Club extracts the surplus value of its patrons and turns this value into hipness for itself, creating a cachet and reputation for itself, throughout the entire building.

Cover charges are not the only way that the economy of hipness operates, however.

Door policies more generally, whether or not they have an economic component, are important factors in a club's hipness economy. Although it is a rare occurrence in Montreal's gay club scene, people have been refused entry to clubs such as Sky, K.O.X.and Sisters on occasion, usually on the bais of perceived sexual orientation. For example, one night in

March of 1996, would-be patrons were mrned away from Sky ostensibly because of overcrowding, but in fact because of their perceived sexual orientation: straights were being kept out. This practice became cornmonplace at K.O.X. during 1994, wnen the club began to amact an increasingly straight clientele. In danger of being desened by their gay customers,

K.0.X. implemented a "gays-only " door-policy . In a press release entitled "An Open Letter to the Gay. Lesbian, and Bisexual Communitiesn, the K.O.X. management wrote: "Serious efforts are being made to discourage hostile, homophobic, and just plain unpleasant straights from frequenting the club" (An Open Letter). Such policies are inherently problematic however, since they operate on the assumption that the categories of "gay" and 'straight" are fuced, solid, and easiiy identifiable. The door-person must be able to "tell" between the gays and the straights (unpleasant or otherwise), a requirement that often results in both fnstration and amusement. In fact, a fiiend of mine who identifies as a gay man has been rehised entry to Chapter 2 / 48

K.O.X., because he did not 'look gayn enough. Although this situation was in many ways

ridiculous, it nevertheless demonstrates the power of door policies, and the arbitrariness of

exclusion. The bouncer and the door policy thus act as effective and sornetime arbitrary gate-

way mechanisms, ensuring the ability of the club to screen its inhabitants.' Although in the aforementioned situation, the process of screening was devoted to the exclusion of non-gay customers, in many cases the exclusio~aspects of door policies are directed othenvise: fashion, age, sex and race are dl important factors in the door-person's operation of the economy of hipness. Interestingly, although the dance-club upstairs at Sbalways features a bouncer and a cover-charge, the Pub on the ground floor does not, except for very special occasions. Viens asserts that Sky only charges at the Pub "on very very rare occasions, like maybe for the Black and Blue [a major dance party held each year in October] or stuff like that. "(Viens Interview: June 6, 1996). Thus, the Pub is a less regulated space, and in theory at least, is therefore somewhat more diverse.

Sky-Club: Musical Tensions

This Pub space, pehaps less diverse in its patrons than the rest of Sb,presents a single, unified design and spatial experience. The Club, on the other hand, presents a divided, multi-faceted approach to diversity, one that has changed over tirne. The spaces of the club have changed a great deal since the beginning of 1996, yet most of the changes to these spaces have been gradua1 and so the easy distinction between old and new cannot be made sharply.

Stiii, drastic changes have been made as entire new fioors have opened and closed. The "old"

'~imilarl~.men-ody clubs such as Katakombes and La Track use dress-codes as a methoci of exclusion. citing such dress codes as the reason for the exclusion of women. Chapter 2 1 49

Sky was prUnarily a single-floored space. Comprised of three basic sections, with a dance bar

on each end and a stand-up bar in the rniddle, Sky flowed easily between the two different

buildings ( 1474 and 1488 Ste. Catherine St . Est, respectively), with little or no evidence of the distinctions in the exterior evident on the interior. The main dividing trope of the interior space was not design but music; Sky was divided musically into the Alternative side and the

Dance side. Although the spaces themselves featured identical design elements, such as brass poles and black studded walls, and a high degree of flow of traffic as people moved around the entire club, the experience of the space itself was sharply divided musically . Goulet believes that this is very important for the bar, asserting that there "are a lot of people who wouldn't corne to Sky if there wasn't [the alternative] side. It's not at al1 the same crowd as the other side" (Goulet Interview: July 9 1996). Bisected musically , Slry 'a dance-club thus draws on two very different musical consumer groups.

This distinction is confvmed by Goulet, the DJ on the Alternative side. He admits that many club-pers in fact do not roam the entire Club but only occasionally venture into a

'music area' that they do not know. When asked about the people who wander unawares into the "alternative siden, Goulet laughed and said that "They fie& out. They look around and they don? know [what to do]. And sometirnes when they're over thirty, they'll hear some Song like OMD and they'll go "Oh my God" and they'll like it. But then when they hear the new stuff they just totally fie* outn (Goulet Interview: July 9, 1996). Sirnilarly, Goulet asserts that there are those who hate him and his music, and consequently his area of Sky:

There's this little gay crowd that is scared of alternative music. It's incredible. It's aU these musclemen and aii these discofags and whatever; I don? mind that but please guys, keep an open mind! .. . Don't be freaked out.. .. People are very Chapter 2 / 50

insecure about stuff they don't know. There's a certain gay crowd that don? like my music, and they would burn me! Some people take great offence. Yeah, cause 1 attract some straight people, and alternative people are a little rougher. (Goulet Interview: July 9, 1996)

This division of the Club into different musical styles thus becomes a way of dividing the club in ternis of people; Sky caters to both "the alternative peoplen and the "dance music people", or more specifically, the "regular people". Sky becomes a site which is not just divided but divided againsf itself, where discofags and altemafags battle it out. Goulet does not promote this, in theory, but admits that it does exist to a certain extent: "There is some difference between the sides. There is some kind of linle war going on. 1 don't want it to be, but it's what 1 see" (Goulet Interview: July 9, 1996). At the same time, Goulet asserts that it is his place wiihin Sky that ailows him and the alternative culture he fosters to survive. "1 couldn't cornpete with [Dls fiorn] the same club. Tbat would be ridiculous. When people corne in they

Say 'There are so many people on your side than the other side' or the other way around I Say

'It's not about that honey, We're al1 together here, there's no competition.' It's not a rat race"

(Goulet Interview: July 9, 1996).

At the same tirne, however, it is a rat race, a competition. Since each of the bars operate independentiy of each other, each with their own cash registers, Viens knows which areas of the club are more profitable and which are lagging behind. In fact, Viens asserts that

"Everything is very calculated. We know which bar makes more money.. . So we always plan.. .. Even the barman we choose for that bar; if we put a barman at a certain bar there's a reason why ." (Viens Interview: June 6, 19%). Goulet corroborates the power of Viens' Chapter 2 / 5 1

.. .if what 1 was doing was not bringing in the cash, Pierre Viens is the kind of man who would Say: "This is not okay, so you're out." He's not giving me pity money, by giving me a job. (Goulet Interview: July 9, 1996)

Viens is thus in a position to relocate his staff, to hire and fire DJs based on the performance

of each individual section. This knowledge, this power is of course not unusual. However, the

fact that a single ownerlmanager is in control of a variety of different scenes and areas does

create an unusual situation within the bar: if one "scene", be it the alternative scene, the dyke

scene, the dance scene or the cabaret scene is significantly less successful than the others, it may be elirninated. The staffs awareness of such possibilities can thus foster competition between the different areas. As each DJ knows that his job is to draw people (or more specifically, drinkers) to the club, the DJ with the bigger draw is the better employee. Whether or not Goulet likes ta admit that competition exists, the very fact that he frequently has people approaching hirn to tell hirn whether his side is 'winning' or not is telling. Similarly, this favouritism exists not just at the level of the DJ. Club-goers as well enter into different relationships with the different areas of the club, developing favourite haunts, songs and nights. Of course, this type of competition exists between businesses al1 the the. Many of the businesses located within Montréal's gay village compete with each other: restaurants, clubs, clothing shops, saunas, etc. Yet with the case of Sky, the cornpethg businesses are al1 ownedlcontrolled by a single individual.

The methods of detemiining who is winning are complicated as well. Since each bar is a different size and is located in a different area with a different staff and different DJs, they incur different expenses. Men balancing incorne against expenses, a surprising portrait emerges. Viens draws a picture: Chapter 2 1 52

The Pub and the Club are doing very well. But the Club has a lot more expenses, like DJs and the staff. It 's a lot more expensive upstairs than downstairs, because you've got doormen and DJs and dl of these animations and shows and stuff Iike that. So, at the end of it the Pub makes more money than the other ones, that's for sure. (Viens Interview: July 10, 1996)

The financial centrality of the Pub-section of Sky seems surprising in light of the fact that it is

one of the more recent additions to the complex. Furthemore, Slq has a strong reputation,

derived from its advertisements and listings in newspapers, as a dance club and less so as a

Pub or watering hole. Thus, the higher profile aspects of Sky (Le. the club itself) are in part

subsidized by the lesser. One might wonder whether this is also mewithin the club itself;

does the Dance side subsidise the Alternative side? 1s it a case of competition or of one-sided

support? However, when asked specifically if the different bars within the club itself make a noticeably different amounts of money, Viens proves that both the models of competition and support may be less valid than originally thought.

.. .theytre about the sarne, if you calculate it by percentage.. Surely, the big bar on the Dance floor makes more money, that's for sure, but it's bigger you know.. .. But on percentag. they 're al1 doing quite well. The Alternative Room is doing well, and the Cabaret à Mado is doing very well.. . (Viens Interview: July 10, 1996)

Sensibly enough, each part of SQ seems to support itself, in keeping with its size and its

costs. Neither supporting each other, nor noticeably out-producing each other , the Altemative

and Dance sides seen to peacefully CO-exist,at least econornically.

However, Sky-Club's musical divisions are not simply spatial, but also chronological.

The separate musical spaces also feature different musical texts on different nights of the

week. Since the Club is open from Thursday through Sunday nights, each of the two dance Chapter 2 1 53 floors have four separate evenings. These distinctions are approached differently in each area.

On the Alternative side, Goulet is the only DJ and thus to differentiate the evenings, he plays

different music, al1 within a certain range. He explains:

[On Thursdays] 1 play old disco, new wave, alternative, soundtracks (you know, Grease, Xanadu, al1 that shit) and people really have a blast. And then 1 do FridaylSaturday, which are the really alternative nights; by that 1 mean Sisters of Mercy, the deep alternative.. . raunchy kinda stuff. And Sundays is my BritPop night. (Goulet Interview: July 9, 1996)

Thus, Sky employs a single DI to play a number of different styles. On the Dance side, the

opposite situation exists, with a number of DJ's spinning on different evenings, or sometimes during a single night. Whereas Goulet has been the reigning DJ on the alternative side for two years now, the cast of DJ's on the Dance side constantly changes, with the current line-up

including Stephan Grondin, Sylvain Girard and Luc Raymond, al1 OP whorn play a similar style of music, personally inflected.

These musical divisions and the bisected nature of their application within Sky-Club present Iittle surprise, at this point. What is interesting, however, is the way that these distinctions are masked in the promotionai materid for the Club. In the May 1996 flyer for

Sky, a number of different events and evenings are advertised. For Thursdays, the text reads

"le SKY CLUB présente SPLASK!les jeudis ", and then goes on to list the features of the night, which inciude "peep show - video xxx - massages - go go gods dancers - boot shine.. . [at] Sky Club 1474 Ste-Catherine Est" . This seems hnocuous enough, but becomes somewhat problematic when compared to the advertisement for 'TrashXpressn , a Sunday night event. The copy for this event reads: "L'enfer est aux portes du Sky.. . TrashXpress.. . Chapter 2 1 54

Tous les dimanches dans la salle alternative du sky club, pénétrez par le 1320 Alexandre-de-

Sève". Here the space itself is identified as the Alternative side, whereas in the previous

advertisement, the space is not specified: it is simply "SeClubn. Thus. it appears that

SPLASH!occurs throughout the club, and TrashXpress occurs simply on the Alternative side,

when in fact, SPLASH! only occurred on the Dance side. This practice of glossing over the

spatial divisions within Sky Club occun throughout nuch of the Sky Club promotional

material. The advertisement for "les mardis Supeffly " presents the sarne blankness, saying

simply 'le SKY CLUB prksente les mardis Superfly", when it is in fact le salle de dance du

SS, Club who is presenting the evening. This practice also results in a ranking of the different

spaces; the Dance side is pomayed as the "realn Sky and the Alternative side is that which

must be identified and differentiated. This division nonnalizes the Dance side as the "regular"

gay space while at the same time stigmatizes the Alternative side as "different and dangerous".

Of course, the crowd which frequents the Alternative side may be pleased ta display such

stigmata, but the overall distinctions between the different sides still results in a normalking of

one side at the expense of the 0th. Sky thus remains an uneasy union of a number of different musical styles, arranged both spatially and chronologically throughout the Club.

Sky Club: Managing the Sky

Although the spaces of Sky Club are divided musically and promotionally, managerially they are united, thus making it somewhat different than the structure on the main floor which is divided between Resto Bleu and Sky Pub. Viens is very clear on the subject, saying "For me there are like three businesses. There's the restaurant, there's the Pub and there's the Club" (Viens Interview: luly 10, 1996). Thaf organhtionai tenet is expresseci in Chapter 2 1 55

the manageriil structure as wek "I've gnt a manager for the Club. I'vc got s manager for the

Pub and I've got a manager for the restaurant." (Viens Interview: July 10. 1996). Thus, the

Sky-Club is a single entity; although the actual experience of the club is very much a divided,

multi-faceted one, the actual workings of the space are controlled by a single manager and

staffed by one pool of interchangeable staff members. Unlike Resto Bleu and Sky Pub, which

have very separate and discrete staffs, Sky Club is a space of interchangeability, where

individual workers can be working at the Alternative side one night. the Dance side the next

and the Cabaret Zi Mado the third (Viens Interview: June 6, 1996). Of course, the

hterchangeability is more theoretical than practical. Viens asserts that he 'can changen staff

members around within the club, but from observation, it appears that he does not often do so.

Each bartender has hislher regular bar, and the DJs are certainly not about io spin their music @ on a different dance floor. Still, this staffing distinction between these two different levels

remains worth noting.

Other staffhg distinctions also demarcate between the main floor businesses and the

Sky Club, fostering a sense of unity within the different aspects of the Sky Club. Hiring

practices are very different for the Resto Bleu and the Sky Club. The former depends more on

standard hiring practices and requirements, like experience and capability, whereas the latter

depends more on appearance and popularity . Viens explains:

If 1 hire for the restaurant it's very different than if 1 hire for the club. Surely for the club you have to be more funky, you have to have a look, or something like that. For the restaurant, more important is the experience; you have to have a lot of experience to work at the restaurant. At the club we don? ask for much experience, but if you have a look and you're funky lyou will be hired]. And it al1 depends on the people you know tm. If somebody's very very popular, and Chapter 2 156 he knows everybody, it's easier for him to have a job here. (Viens Interview: July 10, 1996)

This gradation would presumably place the Pub at a mid-point, where the prospective employee's look and experience are equally important. This sliding scde of competence vs. appearance is once again not uncornmon in the Montreal service industry, an industry which generally requires a photo to accompany a C.V. for most waitering jobs. Yet Viens' frank admission of such a scale is interesting. as is his choice of phrasing. When discussing a prospective employee, Viens goes from talking about "somebody " to talking about "him*.

This slippage is neither accidental nor misrepresentative. Sky, whether it's Sky Pub, Sky Club or Resto Bleu is predominantly staffed by men. One could presume that maleness is one of the aspects of the "lookn that Viens requires when hiring. These two statements about hiring practices, experience and the sex of the prospective employee reveal an interesting series of gradations. The Sky-Club is the most sexualized space, even Rom an institutional, managerial perspective. The Club is where look is most important, where the men (and they are almost al1 men who work there) cm be incompetent but must be attractivelfunky. At the other end of the scale is the Resto Bleu, where competence is a must and look is Iess important. This scale can be repeated ad infinitum. The Club is funkier, more individualist, whereas the Resto is more conformist, with uniforms for their staff. The Club is less "serious" and business-like, whereas the Resto is more so.

These differences in the 'corporate cultures" wit.the Sky-Complex affect the staff themselves, and their inter-relations. Goulet makes this fact very clear. When fist asked about the after-work relations of the Sky-employees, he is very enthusiastic, saying "We're dl like a Chapter 2 1 57 @ team, we have outdaor activities together, the gang from Sky. We went to Ile Ste. Heltne, we

would go to movies, we try to do outside-the-work activities, and it brings people together."

(Goulet Interview: July 9, 1996). But when asked if there is much mixing between the staff

from the Club and the rnainfioor enterprises, another answer emerges:

No, that's the thing: maybe upstairs at the Club and the Pub. But the Resto Bleu? I don? know anyone who works there. It's like something really apart. And you know, us at the Club, we also have a freak reputation. (Goulet Interview: July 9, 1996)

Thus, the managerial and hiring distinctions between the two ends of the sale (Le. between

Sky-Club and Resto Bleu) are displayed in the relations between the staff themselves.

Interestingly enough, the most expected and perhaps cornmon distinction in staffing is denied.

Both Viens and Goulet deny any preference about hiring francophones over anglophones, or

vice versa. All staff mernbers cm rpeak both English and French, of courre, but whether one

is originally francophone or anglophone does seems to be a factor in hiring, by my

observation. Whether or not language of origin is a consideration in hiring practices, the other

managerial practices conceming hiring lead to the fostering of a feeling of unity within the

Club, and perhaps at the expense of the Resto: uniwing against the outsiders, the Resto-

employees .

Another unifying practice of the club as a whole are the beer-buses and shooter-

specials. One single policy covers these alcohol specials throughout the club itself, because the

logic behind them applies regardless of sdace differences like whether Alternative or Dance

music is playing. A beer-bus is a limited-time drink special, where two beers are sold for the a price of one; a shooter special is much the same, except that in this case, 1 oz. shots of Chapter 2 1 58

specified alcohols are on sale for %l.OO/shot.The DJ will announce the beginning of a beer

bus or shooter special and perhaps five minutes later, will announce that it is over. Viens

describes the logic behind the concept:

Let's Say we notice that an evening is very quiet: there's people but there's no energy, it's not happening. We're going to make a beer bus to wake them up a bit, so they'll rush the bar, because Our beer bus is "Two for One". So they're going to have two more beer [sic], and they're going to want to Party.. .(Viens Interview: July 10, 1996)

The club manager is in charge of the alcohol specials, deciding when and where to have them.

One interesting fact about the beer buses and shooter specials is the disparity between Viens's

and Goulet's accounts of them. Viens, as the "big boss man" asserts that there is one shooter

bus and one beer bus each night, "sometimes we make two, [if] an evening is very quiet.. ." a (Viens Interview: July 10, 1996). Yet Viens is not necessarily on the floor watching what actually takes place. Goulet, on the other hand tells a different story . 'In general, there are

two shooter buses and two two-for-ones on beer. But it depends on the kind of night they're

having: if it's a slow night, they 'Il do four shooter buses, to get people gohg and drinking and

going crazy; if it's working out very well, there'll just be one shooter bus." (Goulet Interview:

July 9, 1996). This disparity can be possibly explained in a number of ways. Goulet is of

course speaking from his own experience, which is admittedly limited to the Alternative side;

perhaps the Alternative side requires more beer buses and shooter specials to "get people

gohg and drinking". This explanation, however, would not seem to agree with Viens'

statement that the Alternative side is "doing wellw. If that area of the bar constantly and

consistently required more and longer alcohol specials, one could not imagine Viens being

pleased with its performance. Another possible explanation would be that although Viens lays Chapter 2 / 59 out guidelines to be followed, his sub-managers and workers have to actually follow their own instincts, which often result in practices other than those suggested by Viens. Thus, although

Viens believes that there is only one shooter bus and one beer bus per night, the standard practice is in fact to have two of each every evening. This explanation seems just as unlikely as the first; Viens appears to be a manger with a great deal of knowledge of the daily practices of his establishment and it would be unlikely that he could be as out of touch as it would seem that he is. Perhaps this contradiction is simply indicative of the internal contradictions of the club world, the quick-changing nature of it, or more specifically of the contradictions inherent in working for Viens. Goulet talked specifically about Viens and his quick-changing demands:

"He's fie* like that. He says 'Okay, do this and ihis and this' and then the next day he's like 'What are you doing??' (Goulet Interview: Iuly 9, 1996). This mercurial managerial style would result in many contradictions in the working environment at Sky, a large and complex space that would de@ even the most consistent of managers.

Upstairs/Downstain: the Divided Nature of Sky

As a large cornplex, Sky is naturally going to develop internal divisions, different areas which maintain separate operational and experiential practices. These divisions are exacerbated by the fact that Sky attempts to draw in a diverse crowd, a crowd which may not always get along. As a consequence of this desire for a diverse clientele, Sky also hûes a rather diverse staff of bartenders, drag queens, DJs and waiters, a crowd which once again may not always get along. As a result, Sky presents a remarkably fragmented experience to both the club-goer and the employee. Divideci in three, the complex presents three separate faces to the public:

Sky Pub, Resto Bleu, and Sky Club, each with their own manager. Yet Sky Club is iüelf Chapter 2 1 60 divided in three, between the Cabaret, the Dance side and the Alternative side. These divisions, however, are contained within a single structure. How does this structure work?

What are the architectural elements of the complex and how do they promote andlor contain the divisions inherent in Sky. How will the proposed renovations to the space affect these divisions and the experience of the club itself? Chapter Four attempts to address these questions aiid to extend these inquiries towards a theoretical investigation of club culture and the place of the gay club within a larger urban fabric. Chapter Three A Place for Everything ... :The Transformation of Sky

On April4, 1996, Sky taunched its new dance floor and began its transformation. At the same time, the club distributed a flyer detailing the renovations, promoting "le nouveau

SKYn and providing a time frame for its completion. Architecnirally transforming the space, these renovations, both completed and projected, have also changed the workings of the spaces themselves, their inter-relations. the metaphorical and social position of the club-goers and club-workers who inhabit them. These new spaces, and their interactions with the old spaces, need to be examined and interrogated before investigating the wider implications of such a mega-club in both Montréal's gay village and in club-culture at large.

The Légende and the Legend: Sky's Architectural Advertisiag

During the launch of the new floor at Sb,in April of 1996, bouncers and doormen handed out flyers entitled "Transformation du Skyn. As club-goers wandered confused around the new space, unable to lapse into their cornfortable places and habiniaf patterns, they clutched this flyer, occasionally glancing at the architectural drawing on the front or reading the descriptive paragraph on the back. Very much like a map in a mal1 (or a theme-park), this leaflet was the public's fust introduction to the renovations going on at Sky, renovations rumoured to be costing $700,000. The decision to publicize the full plans of the renovations more tha.a year before the renovations themselves will be completed is an unusual one, and bears scrutinizing. A textual representation of the complex itself. the flyer names and numbers the rooms and areas of Sky, bringing questions of language and order into the discussion of Chapter 3 1 62

Sky as a whole. What does this plan reveal, about the space itself and about Sb's desires for the space? A detailed examination of the flyer and Sky's textualkation of itself would seem to be in order.

As noted above, the flyer is double-sided: one side is occupied by a detailed drawing of the new Sky and the accompanying Legende, which lists the areas of the club; the other features a descriptive paragraph providing more information on the drawing. The drawing (see page 63) is a top-fiont view, seen from above, with each area of the club numbered from O to

10. With such a perspective, the drawing emphasizes the top floor of the building, stressing its centrality in the club itself, allowing the viewer to see a great deal of detail within that level, while only being able to see the fronts of each of the other floors. This top floor features the

Cabaret à Mado, the dressing rooms for the Cabaret, the "salle des spectaclelpiste de danse", the video lounge and the toilets. This piste de danse is the new version of the Dance side from

Sky 's previous incarnation, and its cenuality in the drawing once again reiterates the marginality of Sb's other sections. The accompanying paragraph on the flip side of the flyer re-emphasizes this centrality: "N'oublions pas, la pièce de résistance.. . soit la construction d'un nouvel édifice qui prendra le coeur du complexe SKY, soit une salle multi-media où on pourra danser ou assister à des spectacles!" Interestingly, the drawing places the least emphasis on Sky Pub and Resto Bleu; this choice is remarkable since, as already discussed,

Sky Pub is the most profitable section of the complex and Resto Bleu is both a new section and one that may draw its clientele from the widest pl.At the same the, the sketch draws attention away fkom the ground flwr and the exterior of the building and directs it to the upper(most) floor(s) of the structure, once again emphasizing interiority and a hi@ position. Chapter 3 1 63

Figure 2.

The numbering system seems to be at odds with the perspective of the drawing, however. Seemingly random, the nurnbering system begins with the Krishna Room (the new name for the Alternative side) at O and proceeds through Resto Bleu as 1, Sky Pub as 2, the staircase as 3, the new dance floor as 4, etc. (See Figure 2.) The ordering of the spaces is worth noting however. and a number of possible explanations for this ordering system can be explored. At first glance, the numerical ordering seems to correspond to a typical, or perhaps even anticipated visit to the Sky complex. Staning on Street level, the hypothetical visitor would have dinner in Resto Bleu (l),then proceed next door to Sky Pub (2), for a drink.

Afierwards, the visitor would praceed upstairr via the he maintaircase ((3 tio the large dance Chapter 3 1 64

floor (4) and from there to the video lounge (5) and then perhaps to the bathrooms (6);

afterwards, slhe could then use the main staircase(3, again) to descend to the Cniising Bar (7).

This ordering-as-visit makes a certain degree of sense as far as it goes, but nurnber (8) is the

'Entrée - Vestiare". which is out of place: one does not check one's coat after having

wandered through half of the complex. Furthemore, the numerical order does not in fact start

at (11, in Resto Bleu, but on the second floor in the Krishna Room, which is labelled (0); the

hypothetical visitor could not in fact start their visit on the interior of the second floor (0) and

then proceed down to Resto Bleu (l), at least not without going through numbers (8j, (3) and

(2). Numbers (9) and (IO),the Cabaret à Mado and the Dressing Rooms respectively, also do

not seem to fit in any visitation order. O Another possible interpretation of the numbering system would be to read it as a system of valuation, rating the rooms from 0-10. This reading, however, is complicated by the

confusing nature of the sale itself: the reader would assume 10 to be the highest rating, and O

to be the lowest. Yet this value system seems mange when applied; if #10 is valued most

highly, then the Cabaret à Mado (9) the Loges des artistes (10) are rated higher than Resto

Bleu (1) and Sky Pub (2). Other ordering schemes, such as the chronological order in which

the renovations will be completed aiso fail when applied; Sky Pub (2) was completed before

Resto Blue (l), and the Cabaret à Mado (9) is already hished although the Video Lounge (5)

is not. Thus, since none of the ordering systems seem to make logical sense, the nurnbering

appears to be random, or at the very least unconsidered.

Despite this critical dead end, the Légende raises other questions, questions of

language. Listing the rooms in order hm0-10, the Legende is primarily in French but with Chapter 3 1 65

forays into English. 'Resto Bleu", the 'Nouvelle construction: salle de spectacles, piste de

danse", the "Entrke - Vestiare", the "Loges des artistesn, the "Cabaret 'Chez Mado' " and

the 'Escalier principal" are al1 listed in French. The "Krishna Room" and the "Video

Loungen are both listed in English, however, as is the uCruising Bar". In addition to these are

the liminal listings, which appear to be in French and English, a peculiarly Montréalais blend:

the "Sky Pubn, the "Lobby - Salles des toilettes". Do al1 of these listings indicate in any way the language politics or policies of the club itself?

Sky as a whole is a bilingual institution, fiorn the perspective of the patrons. As a bar serving both a bilingual city and a large English-laquage tourist population, Sky must of necessity be bilingual. Yet language remains an important concem. The name of the complex

itself is in English, but does this necessarily locate the space as an anglophone one? Almost al1 of the people involved in Sky on a regular basis are francophone: owners like Gilles Trudeau and François Tousignant; managers like Pierre Viens and Pierre-Y ves Alain; architects like

Jean-Denis LeBlanc and Jem-Pierre Grémy; DJ's like Robert Goulet and Sylrain Girard; and drag queens like Mado Lamotte and Georgette. But if Sky as a whole is labelled in English, each individual section has its own labels which, as noted above, are in either French or

English, or some combination of the two. These labels may not necessarily match the labelled space, however. "Sky Pubn, as a name, seems very mg10 with its connotations of English pubs and pub culture, but bears linle or no resemblance to a cypical Engiish pub; the name

'Resto Bleun on the other hand presents a French facade, but the restaurant includes an Itaîian table d'hôte and a Spanish-style tapas special on its menu. The Krishna Room is listed in

English, and certainly plays an ovenvhelmiogly anglophone set of music, but is architecturdly Chapter 3 / 66 inspired by Indian architecture, particularly Hindu temples. Yet the most interesting space would be the Cabaret à Mado, one of the sites listed in the Légende in incontrovertible

French. A rising francophone vedette, Mado Lamotte presides over the Cabaret and presents a number of shows there, al1 in French. Yet she is very much aware of the language politics inherent in Sky and Montreal in general, and she plays off and with them. Often spoofing anglophones and occasionally attacking Torontonians in particular (a favourite pastime of

Canadians everywhere), she nevertheless plays with language and translates herself back and forth from French into English and vice versa. Saying "Je voudrais vous presenter" she translates this as "I'd like to penetrate youn, puming on the similarity of présenter and pénétrer in French. With humour such as this, the ideal audience for Mado, and perhaps for

Sky as a whole, is a bilingual francophone one.

This conception of the target audience/market is supported by the flyer as a whole.

Sky's textual version of itself lists the new spaces in both French and English and mixtures of the WO;such mixtures present no problem to a bilingrial francophone crowd, and the liberal sprinklings of English help to assuage the unilingual anglophone clientele. Yet these usages of

English are neither random nor unintentional. The descriptive paragraph on the flip side of the flyer , entitled "Transformation du Sky", is almost entirely in French. English, however, does make an occasional appearance, usually to signiv either difference/exoticism or a certain kind of cultural cachet. The paragraph reads:

Transformation du SKY Le SKY tel que vous le connaisez n'existera pius. La premiere étape de sa transformation est dévoilee le 4 avril 1996. Un agrandissement (5) qui comprend une piste de danse temporaire. Une deuxième etape sera l'inauguration du cabaret Chez Mado (9 et IO), '. . . fiesh out of the lounge Chapter 3 1 67

movement! " . Suivront le Krishna Room (O), le nouveau hall d'entrke (8), et la salle de billard (7). tous situés dans les anciens locaux du SKY. N'oublions pas, la pikce de resistance.. .soit la construction d'un nouvel édifice qui prendra le coeur du complexe SKY (4). soit une salle multi-media ou on pourra danser ou assister à des spectacles! Et a ce même moment la pikce contenant de danse temporaire (5 et 6), sera transforme en video lounge. Et voilà le nouveau SKY!

Phrases such as " .. .fresh out of the lounge movement! " stand out visually fiom the French text

around them and appear to stand in for some son of exterior validation; in rnany non-English-

speakhg regions throughout the world, English appears again and again signifying hipness and

currency . Similariy, the name "Krishna Room" lends an exotic air to the Alternative dance

floor with its non-anglophonelnon-francophone stylings. Of course, within a bilingual culture,

the constant shifting back and forth between French and English is not such a remarkable fact;

similarly, within a multiculhiral city such as Montréal, neither the words nor the concepts

"Krishnawand "Hinduism" are necessarily foreign. Still, the base-language of Sky and its

advenising is French, so the interactions between French and other languages in Sb's textual

version of itself are worth noting. The very usage of the English word 'Sky* as the name for

the complex results in interesthg situations. The ensuing inclusion of "Skyn within French-

language writing destabilizes notions of monolithic, unchanging language. 'Le SKY tel que

vous le connaissez.. . les anciens locaux du SKY.. .. le coeur du complex SKY..." : al1 of these

usages appear jarring on paper yet are perfectly nanird within the spoken-French culture of

Montréal and particularly Montréal's gay village. Sky becomes a French word, or at the very

least a word used in French. However, the actual meaning of the English word "Sky " seems 0 to disappear in most of these situations: it is simply a proper noun, the name of an institution, Chapter 3 1 68

and al1 denotative meanings are lost. Yet the connotative meanings remain and are frequently

used in advertising etc., and in the names of the other sections of the complex. One can hardly

consider it an accident that Resto Bleu conjures the image of a blue sky; even the architectural arrangement of the spaces, with the restaurant king placed next to the pub, helps to create bilingual puns: Resto BleuISky Pub. Furtherrnore, using English allows the club to tap into the large English-langage popular culture repertoire; thus, Sky calls its dyke night "Girls in the

Sb", a not-very-veiled reference to the Beatles' "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds".

These language games are not always so consciously- or well-played, however.

Sometimes the changes and permutations seem random. For example, what was called the

"Cruising Bar" in the Legende is called the 'salle de billard" in the paragraph; the Cabaret à

Mado in the Légende becomes Chez Mado on the flip side. Do these language-shifts actually have any meaning? The change from "Cruising Bar* to "salle de billardn certainly represents a shift in emphasis about the space. 1s the space intended to be a pool hall, or a cmising bar?

Of course, it can be both but it is not being signed that way. It appears to be one thing to one linguistic community and another to another . The difference between the "Cabaret Zi Mado" and the 'Cabaret Chez Mado" is somewhat more subtle. Both names are obviously French, but the second is far more accessible to an anglophone market. The phrase "chez " is common and popular throughout anglophone communities, often as the name of a restaurant, such as Chez Henri, Chez Pierre, etc. Thus, the phrase Chez Mado indicates to an anglophone market that 'Mado" is a person's name, and that this space belongs to that person. The phrase

'Cabaret il Mado" on the other hand, is less transparent for a non-francophone clientele. Thus, although Sky seems to be gearing itself primarily for a bilingual francophone crowd, sorne Chapter 3 1 69 attempts to include the unilingual anglophone market also appear.

But what do these linguistic and numerical garnes. present throughout the flyer. signiQ for Sky as a whole? Perhaps their significance lies in their apparent randomness, in the difficulty required to make them fit into a coherent pattern or patterns. Sky is such a large and ungainly complex. managed and organized by series of managers, that the linguistic and numerical chaos present in the fiyer rnay in fact simply represent the existence of Sky as a whole. With no single dominant language or set of narnes, Sky presents numerous facets and versions of itself to its customers. Different patrons will cal1 the different areas of the club by different narnes, visit them in different orders, have different favourites. For some patrons, certain areas of the club may not even exist; sirnilarly, certain nights may not exist for other patrons. The confusion present in the flyer conveys this sense of disorder, or more precisely, of multiple orders. Of course, the flyer also represents an attempt to solidi@ and encourage certain specific versions of these orders, these namings. The labelling and numbering systems are inherentiy ordering and rationalizing in their effect: they clarify the space for a moment, depict it as certain and unchanging. Sirnilarly, the single perspective on the complex itself encourages viewing the complex as an unproblematic whole, a whole which culminates in the upper floor . However, the discrepaacies in the flyer, the changing labels, the confusing numbering al1 indicate the chaotic and complex nature of the space itself. If the textual representation of the space remains confuseci and confusing, what can be said of the space itself?

Upstairs/Downstairs: Metaphors We Club By

Sky began simply as a single-fiwred club, a dance club with a sprawling layout. This Chapter 3 / 70 dance club slowly changed. went through a kind of celldivision, splitting into two different- but-similar dance clubs, the Alternative side and the Dance side. The club then extended downwards , spawning Sky Pub. Shortly afterwards , Sky Club attempted to expand upwards . and opened a short-lived apartment-style space which was quickly closed due to fire regulations. Sky Pub then went through a cell-division of its own, spawning Resto Bleu. After that. Sky Club once again attempted to expand upwards, this the with al1 of the permits and regulations in place, creating a new and expanded Dance side. Finally, the new Dance side spawned the Cabaret à Mado, completing the third floor of the Sky complex. These multiple spaces al1 act and interact together, linked by common ownership, practices and clientele. But how do they interact? What are the relationships benveen the spaces? The differences? What architectural metaphors link the spaces? These questions need to be addressed in order to understand both the workings and the experience of Sky as a whole.

The metaphor of the labyrinth is one frequently applied to dance clubs, malls and theme-parks. Cornplex. convoluted spaces where the subject seeks an elusive goal, be it the perfect mate, shoes or visceral experience (perhaps al1 three), labyrinths have become cornmonplace in North American experience. No longer the domain of Theseus and Ariadne, the modem labyrinths have become mundane, the playgrounds for Bill and Ted, Cher and

Dionne, and Mickey and Mimie. Yet the labyrinth remains an evocative concept, conjuring images of arduous quests confounded by architectural confusion. Do these images, these impressions still rernain valid when considering a complex such as Sky, or do other metaphors hold greater sway in the concepnialization of the space? The labyrinth does provide an interesthg entry point ioto the consideration of Sky , the new Sky , as an architectural entity . Chapter 3 171

Forever changing, always confusing, with a hint of danger and an arnbiguous treasure, Sky

certainly embodies many labyrinthine elements. The space is dark and confusiag , complex and

complicated. Multiple staircases penetrate the floors, creating rnany different paths through the

complex. Patrons wander through this maze-like structure, both navigating the maze and

creating it: Sky, if it is a labyrinth, is a labyrinth made of people, not simply built of wood

and steel. In the act of cruising, another individual becomes the coveted prize, and the crowds

become the maze itself. This maze does not exist solely for those cruising either; simply

meeting a fiiend becomes a herculean task. Yet Sky also confounds many of the criteria of the

labyrinth. The most obvious of these are the eneances; feaniring multiple points of entry

rather than a single entrance, the Sky complex can be penetrated from a number of different

perspectives. Equally important is the lack of a centre. Uniike the prototypical labyrinth, there

is no centre, no one fixed place which must be reached, where both danger and reward are

combined. In fact, the visitor to Sky can have a quick drink in the Pub and leave again, never

having ventured any hirther into the space. Thus, perhaps the metaphor of the labyrinth can be

passed over.

No longer simply a single level, the new Sky Club has added an entire new floor,

which has become the new and enlarged Dance side; no longer exclusively referred to by patrons as the Alternative side and the Dance side, these spaces have also become Downstairs and Upstairs respectively . This metaphorization of the relationship between the two different musical styles and scenes only extends and propagates much popular discourse about these styles of music and culme. Alternative is 'downn on the second floor, darker, more dangeroui, angrier, 'rougher" in the words of Goulet; dance is 'up" on the thkd floor, more Chapter 3 / 72

transcendent, lighter, happier. perhaps even safer. These metaphors are extended into the

actual design and appearance of these spaces as wel! The Alternative Floor is literally darker and more maze-like; dominated by walls, columns and bras poles which break up the sight- lines, this area features many nooks and crannies, hiding places which make the space a complex one to negotiate. The dance floor itself is small and low-ceilinged, fiequently crowded to the point of the dancers being unable to move freely. The club is mostly black in colour, with black studded leather-ette on the interior walls and colurnns, although reddish exposed brick covers the exterior walls. The floor itself is also black, contributing to the general feeling of enclosure and danger. The dark roughness of this space, both aurally and architecturally, contrasts greatly with the light smoothness of the Dance Floor. Upstairs, the

Dance Floor is a huge, high-ceilinged space, with pale hardwood fioors and large brightly coloured images on the walls: bananas. cherries, etc. No walls or poles obscure the patrons' vision, contributing to a powerful impression of open-space and fieedorn. The dance floor is approxirnately twice the size of the one downstairs, and generally allows dancers more room to move. Furthemore, this space is heavily air-conditioned, even during the winter and so the dance floor is usually cool and crisp; during the first few weeks of operation, this dance floor was in faci too cold, to the point where people would avoid it. Thus the two levels are differentiated not just by music and design, but also by climate; the Alternative Floor is hot and steamy (hellish, perhaps) and the Dance Floor is cool and crisp. These differences are evocative of McRobbie's descriptions of dancing and dance-clubs more generally. She identifies two main pleasures in dancing, those of anonymity and self-negation, and those of display and publicness (McRobbie: 144). Thus, the ciifferences in design between the Chapter 3 1 73

Alternative Floor and the Dance Floor parallel these distinct pleasures: the Alternative Floor, with its dark lighting, broken sight-lines and low ceilings is a space suitable for losing one's self in anonymity; the Dance Floor, with its high-ceilinged. airy spaces and its unbroken sightlines is perfect for selfdisplay and performance.

Similarly, the spaces are also differentiated by their organization of dancer and DJ in relation to each other. The Alternative Floor features a DJ booth which is at the same level as the dance floor, perched at the edge of the dance floor, open on two sides and thus allowing dancers access to Goulet to ask him questions, request songs etc: the DI is down midsr the crowds, literally on the same level as thern. The Dance Floor, on the other hand, features a

DJ booth which is raised above the level of the dance floor, in which the DI is visible high above the crowd, inaccessible and in control; the only access to the booth itself is from behind the bar, which is, of course, restricted to Sky staff. In this situation the DJ is above and aloof.

Once again, in these situations, the two areas distinguish themselves through metaphors of 'up' and 'down'. Yet the Dance Floor is not the only space on the new floor: also included on this floor is the Cabaret à Mado, a performance space for drag shows and other "spectaclesn. This

Cabaret does not detract from the upldown metaphor however; once again "up" is happy, playful, non-serious and light. Similarly, the space is decorated in a very playful marner, in alarmingly bright colours and drag-esque tones.

One cannot help but wonder whether the metaphors of 'upn and "downn that seem to govem the relationship between these spaces could also be articulated as a gendering or sexualizing of the spaces themselves. The Cabaret is very specificaily intended for drag performance, but is also the site of "Girls in the Skyn, the wcekiy womcn-only lesbian event Chapter 3 1 74 at Sb.It is definitely the space that most conforms to standard images of femininity: brightly coloured and ebullient, extravagant and playful. The Dance Floor is a gay space, but definitely a male gay space. The images of hit on the walls are arranged in a combinations to depict male genitalia (a banana flded by two cherries seems to be a favourite motif) and the bartenders are generally well-built men in various stages of dress and undress. The floors are smooth, and the room exudes an aura of control, sleek and coiffed, with a continuous beat, attributes which have been linked to an urban gay male identity by authors such as Richard

Dyer and Walter M. Hughes. The Alternative Floor, on the other band, is also very much male, but much less smooth. With textured walls, rough brick and often-abrasive music, this space is more masculinist than simply male, exuding danger and roughness. This version of masculinity expressed and experienced in the Alternative Floor both architecturally and musically is often compared against that of the aforementioned smooth and controlled urban gay male masculinity. Goulet himself, DJ on the Alternative side, defines his musical practices against those of the DJs on the other side of the bar, sayinp 'for me Alternative is anything that's not playing on the other side"; he explicitly says that he dislikes the Dance Floor as a space, commenthg on "the colours, the candyish look, the fake exotic fag-thing .. . " (Goulet

Interview, July 9, 1996). More explicitly, Ian Stephens, a Montreal poet, wrote an entire article in the 1991 Montreal Mirror's Gay and Lesbian Supplement about his frustration with the gay dance-music scene. Although Sky did not yet exist when Stephens was writing, the

Dance Floor at Sky embodies much of what he discusses. In the article, titled "No, 1 Can't

Dance", Stephens writes: Chapter 3 1 75

'From the start 1 knew 1 couldn't dance, at least not like them... 1 couldn't gind with the iight tones of Donna Summer .. . or any of the other musical immortals.. .I wanted real music, music that could fuck, drive out the back of rny legs and then nail a spike through my forehead.. . No, 1 don? lmow how to dance but 1 can move and twist, even in ugly spirals.. . (Stephens : 18, emphasis added)

By Stephens' implication, dance music is not "real music", and is most specifically not "music

that could fuck", and thus the music itself, its devotees and its spaces are in some ways

neutered, less than masculine.

These architectural, musical, and design differences between the various spaces within

Sky, dong with Stephen's comments, imply a gendered difference between customers,

between the patrons of the different floors and areas. Are the patrons of one area 'more

masculine' than those of another? Are some 'more ferninine'? If these categories are too

problernatic to be used, perhaps 'butch" and 'femmen would be more appropriate, growing

up as they do from within the gay cornmunity itself. Upon first consideration, it would be

tempting to place the Alternative Floor and its patrons in the categos, of butch, aggressively

sexual, with screarning guitars and, raw, flailing dance styles. Goulet himself supports this

idea, saying that 'alternative people are a Little rougher" (Goulet Interview: July 9, 1996).

Similarly, it would be tempting to put the Dance Floor and its patrons in the femme camp,

smooth and sleek, dancing to music that is cyclical and never-ending. But are these first

impulses correct? The goth fag on the Alternative Floor, thin, dressed in skin-tight velvet, haL-

elaborately coiffed, eyeliner carefully drawn, silver chains sparkling as he dances to

Morrissey, is he butch or femme? The disco fag on the Dance Floor, muscular, dressed in a jean shorts and hiking boots, sweaty and vogueing up a storm, is he butch or femme? More Chapter 3 176 irnportantly, this division assumes that there are no Sky patrons who visit both floors, who move freely from one area to the other. Although Goulet emphasizes the difference between the two spaces both musically and in terms of customers, 1 have personally observed rnany people who seem equally cornfortable in each area, who do walk back and forth, spending the in each separate section of the complex. However, it must be admitted that the popularity of this practice of roarning through the different areas of the complex has diminished with the opening of the new Dance Floor; since the Dance and Alternative areas are now farther apart, there seems to be less trafic between them. The musical and stylistic dhide which had been easily crossed previously is now supplemented by an architectural divide which discourages rningling .

Yet can we be equivocal about the gendering of these spaces, about the design difierences? Although the Alternative FIoor is certainiy rougher, darker and more aggressive in both design and music, it is also smaller and features lower ceilings, enfolding its patrons in an almost womb-like nature: a culturally ferninine characteristic. Similarly, although the Dance

Floor embodies certain characteristics which are comidered fey or femininely masculine such as ovenly homoerotic drawings and bartenders, the space itself is open and unbroken, allowing the domineering gaze to roam unbroken throughout the space, observing and tracking: a culturally male characteristic. In addition, the spatial organization of the DJ booth and the dance floor in each section is wonh noting. In his article "The Booth, the Floor and The

Wall: Dance Music and the Fear of Falling", Will Straw emphasizes the gendered nature of the spatial orghtionof DJ booth and dance floor in dance clubs. Asserting that the division between dance fiaor and DI bwth tends to support the "masculinist characier of dance music Chapter 3 1 77 culturen, Straw stresses the secrecy necessary for dance music DJs to maintain the connoisseurship necessary for credibility (Straw: 25 1). Taking the architectural feature of the

DJ booth which, depending on its placement, can discourage access and encourage musical secrecy as a gendered feature, we would then have to identify the DJ booth on the Dance

Floor as more masculine than that of the Alternative Floor; the booth on the Dance Floor is high and inaccessible whereas the booth on the Alternative Floor is low and accessible.

Goulet, DJ on the Alternative Floor, corroborates this conception when he details his DJ practices :

After a while when you're DJ-hg, after a certain number of years, you realize that if you please people they're going to drink, and that's what brings your salary. .. . There are a lot of DJ's that are very - they don? accept any requests, they are very - it's their style. People get pissed off from that, and that's not what 1 like to do. I'm very humanitarian. (Interview: July 9, 1996)

Goulet is thus not simply physically at the same level as the crowd for which he spins, he actually accepts their requests. This acceptance is partially because of his physical location in the club:

If I'm in a bad mood one night 1 might as well not corne in. Cause I'm in the crowd, actually . 1 could have a movable booth. it's almost like that. Cause I've got people talking to me there and talking to me there. 1 cannot not take into consideration the people that I'm taking to, cause they're right there. (Interview: July 9, 1996)

These architectural features and DJ practices thus counteract the more obviously feminine and masculine codings for the Dance Floor and the Alternative Flwr respectively . Thus, although on the surface, each area of Sky can be experienced as coded dong specific gender lines, both the practices of certain individuals within those spaces. and the architectural elements of the spaçes themselves help to cornplicate these codings, making it Unpossible to label one Chapter 3 1 78 masculine and the other feminine.

Pie in the Sky: Expnding Markets, Expanding Spaces

Pierre Viens is very frank when asked about the rationale for Sky's expansion. The driving force is, of course, economics. When asked specifically about the new dance floor and its open. lofty feel, he responds by saying "It was too small downstairs. Everythinp was too tight downstairs. That's why we're expanding, cause it was too small, too tight, everybody was complaining. Plus we can put more people, which is the main reason why we are in business" (Viens Interview: June 6, 1996). Simply speaking, a larger club can hold more people: people who pay the cover charge. people who buy drinks, people who pay the coat- check etc. However, this added size cm work against the economy of hipness discussed in

Chapter Three. Every club managers wants hislher club to appear busy , popular and

'happening', but a larger club makes this appearance more difficult to achieve. A crowd of

500 people, which would have filled the 'old' SQ, creating a dense, crowded club space can disappear in the 'new' Sb.With the new Dance Floor and the Cabaret 3 Mado, a much larger number of people are required to generate the same sense of excitement, to create a

'happening' scene. Of course, if the club cm generate a capacity crowd in the new and larger space, it will produce a larger profit; however, whether or not Sky can attract this crowd remains to be seen.

The possibility of an increased capacity, of "more peoplen is not the oniy reason for the expansion, however. 'Diversity' is a word that Viens also uses when discussing the reasons for the expansion.

.. .the important thing was to be very diversifieci. I didn't want to make three Chapter 3 / 79 kinds or four kinds of different clubs, that's why we made a pub, and a restaurant. Every tirne we expand we're trying to do something else; we just have a cabaret now, there's a big show-room coming up.. . (hterview: June 6, 1996)

This diversiiy is necessary, in Viens' eyes, because his clientele is changing, less interested in dance clubs and more interested in a variety of experiences.

If you're having four clubs, the people won't go in four different clubs, it's like- let's say they go to the Pub first, they take an appero, then they go eat [in Resto Bleu], then they go back to the Pub to have another beer, then they Say *Okay, let's go dance now." The customer can be here [in the Se complex] for a lot more hours. Plus.. .the nightlife is like less: there's a lot less people than it use to have, so people are going more for restaurants or pubs or stuff like that. So that's why we didn't want to make just clubs.. .. (Interview: June 6, 1996)

Thus, by providing more than just a dance club, Viens draws on the sizable market which does not patronize such clubs. This diversity of patrons, which Viens emphasizes - he comments bat the clientele is Very diversified. Since [Sky isj so big, and since there'r the restaurant, the club. it's very diversified" - may very well justify the dangers of enlarging the space beyond the point where it can maintain a high density of patrons and thus a certain 'hipness': an economy of diversity which eclipses the economy of hipness. In addition, as the different areas of Sky develop and maintain their own reptations, they will likely develop theû own hipness. Sky Pub may be packed and busy while the Cabaret à Mado is empty; the Dance

Floor may be the 'place to be seen' one night and the Alternative Floor may fil1 that same function the next. In this case, this economy of diversity may not simply overshadow the economy of hipness but complicate it. Whether or not this diversity can maintain Sky's popularity in a club culture known for its fickleness remains to be seen, however.

The Best Laid Plans...: Control and Secrecy in Club Culture Chapter 3 1 80

Any study of an enterprise such as Sky should involve a detailed analysis of the plans of the building itself. Procured from the architects who designed the space, or at the very least from the local municipal records, these plans would seem to be central to any discussion of a building, of a club in architectural tenns. Yet 1, as a researcher, do not have these plans; the centre of this study of Sky is a void, an empty space where plans should be. This void, however, and the reasons for its existence presents a number of interesting examples of issues of control and secrecy in Montréal gay club culture.

As stated at the beginning this chapter, in April of 1996, Sky aistributed a îlyer depicting a version of the plans for the newly renovated club. Thus, when 1 first approached manager Pierre Viens for permission to perform a study of Sky, I was confident of the likelihood of procuring the architectural plans for the site. If Viens was willing to distribute one plan publiciy on a flyer, 1 thought, then 1 should be able to see the rest of these plans without a problem. This fust seemed to be the case. During our first interview, Viens agreed without hesitation bat I could have access to the plans of Sky; the architect, however, was out of town and 1 would have to wait until the following week to see them. That next week, 1 spoke to Viens who said that the architect (who remained narneless throughout these discussions) was still out of town and that 1 should cal1 back the next week. When 1 spoke to

Viens next, he once again said that the architect was unavailable and I began to get both nervous and suspicious: was 1 being given the run-around? Eventually, the next week when 1 called to inquire once again about gaining access to the architectural plans of Sky, Viens told me that he had changed his mind, that he no longer wanted me to see them. Although 1 asked why, he simply said that he had ehanged his mind, and 1 was denieci. Chapter 3 1 81

Having begun to expect such an occurrence. however, 1 sought help from Ville de

Montréal. Contacting the city archives, 1 was told by the archivist that 1 could of course get access to the plans of any building in Montréal - as long as 1 had the permission of the building owners. Thus frustrated, 1 considered consulting the architects themselves. Jean-Denis

LeBlanc had designed the Resto and the Pub, and 1 contacted his office. Although, like Viens, he too seemed willing to help at first, eventually it became clear that 1 was not going to get any plans from him either. Jean-Pierre Grémy, who was the architect listed with the city for the renovation of the Club portion of Sb,was even less helpful, refusing to even speak to me: perhaps Viens had instructed him to deny me. Thus having been stymied on al1 fronts, 1 remained plan-less. In a fmal interview with Viens, 1 pressed him one last the about gaining access to the Sky plans. Viens once again rehised, and when pressed for a reason for his change of heart, simply replied "It's just private information that 1 want to keep for myself."

(Interview: July 10, 1996). One wonders at his reasoning, though. Why would Viens change his mind? Does he fear cornpetition fkom other clubs in the area, clubs that I could perhaps be working for? Does he suspect that 1 would reveal the plans to his cornpetitors? Admittedly,

Viens had aiready refused to speciQ the actual costs of the renovations: perhaps the plans themselves would have indicated the scale and thus the cost of these renovations. Whatever his reasoning, Viens's change of heart reveals the cut-throat nature of the club culture in Montréal and the secrecy that such competition generates.

Practice Makes Perfect: The On-Coing Struggle at Skg

Like any entertainment enterprise, Sky is a work in progress. Although the current renovations may represent a signifiant intensification of the changes that most clubs are Chapter 3 1 82

continually undergoing , Sky has constantly been changing since it first opened in 1993 and

will continue to change long afrer the reaovations are finshed. The addition of new video

screens, the introduction of new theme-nights, the changing of staff-members, the redefdtion

of certain areas from lounge, to stand-up bar. to pool bar. to cruising bar al1 embody the

constant changes that take place in any gay establishment concemed with being popular and

'now'. Thus, any study of such an establishment, any portrait of Sky cmalways only be a

snap-shot, a working mode1 for what is happening today . Managerial practices, DJ cultures,

and even spatial organization may change from week to week, month to month. Yet the

ideologies behind such changes remain the same; Sky is informed by a theoretical conception

of what an entertainment complex should be and this conception bears some scrutiny. The a following chapter attempts to address this theoretical vision of Sky and to tease out some of the implications of such a vision. Chapter Four ...And Everything In Its Place: The Implications of Sky

In an age of multi-plexes and theme-parks. megamalls and gay window advertising, the existence of Sky does not seem particularly stuprising. Other large entertainment complexes such as Sky exist, both in the gay and non-gay community, and the gay cornmunity itself is becoming a sought-after market. Thus more and more businesses will atternpt to cater to and capitalize on gay consumers, as businesses arise both fkom within the gay community and from outside. In fact, a number of club-complexes are currently forming in Montreal; K.O.X ., already mentioned, includes a leather bar, a dance bar and a lesbian bar; the LaTrack complex includes two restaurants. a hotel, a leather bar and a leather boutique. Yet if Sky is neither unique nor surprising, it is still important, for it crystailheî a number of issues currcntly debated in urban planning and architecture, queer theory and cuituraî studies. What does Sky portend for the future of the gay village, for the future of gay clubs in particular, and for the future of club culture more generally? These questions will guide us through a consideration of the wider theoretical implications of Se's current existence and projected renovations.

It9sa Mal1 World After ALI?: Sky and the Malhg of the Gay Viiiage

It looks like a big dl!"Third Floor: Lingerie. Fourth Floor: Men's Wear." It's like that sometimes, we just go 'Les parents de Melanie s'il vous plait vous presentez au l'Information. S'il vous plait, les parents de Melanie.. ." . . . On Sundays it doesn't start before 12, and you see people going upstairs and downstairs and over there and we just joke on the microphone: "Georgette demande au comptoir Coco Chanel, Georgette au Coco Chanel." Sometimes you see these teenagers, they're like 12 years old, and it's like "Les parents de Melanie.. ." And it's nue. It's weird now. It's so big. And it's not finished! (Goulet Interview, July 9, 1996) Chapter 4 1 84

As 1 have asserted in both the Preface and Chapter 1, Sky is recreating the gay village

within itself, interiorizhg the streets and establishments that rnake up a 'typical' gay village.

Pierre Viens envisions his patrons spending their whole evening at the Sky-cornplex, moving

from one area of the space to another when they feel the need for a change of mood or of

activity. In this idealized situation, the hallways connecting the Cabaret and the Dance Floor,

Resto Bleu and the Alternative Floor, the Salle des Spectacles and the Pub would replace Rue

Ste. Catherine, the street that mns through the centre of the existing gay village. The public

space of the street would be replaced by the private space of the building's interior; rather than

walking through the Montreal weather, in al1 its various permutations, patrons would be able

to stay inside, far from the rain, the snow, and the blistering Sun. These, of course, are the a advantages which are also touted for rnalls and indoor shopping complexes. The shopper/patron can avoid the inconveniences of the 'outside' while enjoying al1 of its benefits.

But is that actually the case? Cm we think about Sky as a mall/club, and what do we leam

from such a consideration? What is being gained and lost in this interiorbation of Montréal's

village? What gets excluded, both from Sb itself and from the experience of the village?

First adforemost, why should we consider Sky as a mall? There are many

similarities, not the least of which are the goals involved in each enterprise. Viens asserts that

with the new additions to Sky, '[cjustomers can be here for a lot more hours" , something

which Viens hopes for and encourages (Viens Interview: June 6, 19%). This statement is very

reminiscent of that of mall developer, Bill Dawson, who says of mils that "[tlhe more needs

you fulfil, the longer people stay." (qtd. in Crawford: 15). This desire for people, for busy,

burtling spaces maices sense in both situations; much like an ernpty club discourages Chapter 4 / 85 newcomers fiom staying, an empty mall is a dead mall. Despite the obvious differences between these enterprises - few malls charge an entrance fee - both malls and clubs thus have their own versions of the economy of hipness. Moreover, the longer that individuai customers spend in eac' setting. the more likely they are to make (possibly unplanneci) purchases that will profit the business; an extra round of beer and an impulse purchase thus serve the same purpose for these two enterprises, although Sky's practices of "beer busesn and

"shooter specials", discussed in Chapter Three, do not necessarily have their direct equivalents within mall practices.

These goals, however, are not the oniy thing that Sky and malls have in cornmon.

Margaret Crawford, in her article "The World in a Shopping Mall", discusses the first enclosed mall, built and managed by Victor Gruen in 1956. This discussion raises another similarity between these malls and Sky, in fact between malls and dance clubs more generally.

"By enclosing the open spaces and controllhg the temperature, Gruen created a completely introverted building type, which severed dl perceptual connections with the dl's surroundings" (Crawford: 2 1). Furthemore, Crawford stresses the "basic mall trope: an inverted space whose forbidding exteriors hid paradisiacal interiors" (Crawford: 22). This basic mall trope is also the basic dance-club trope: Crawford's descriptions could easily be descriptions of any dance club, which are equaily introverted, focussed on the creation of separate space, distinct fkom the world outside. In fact, even street-level dance clubs which feature large store-front windows usually blacken these windows out, in order to "sever0 ail perceptual connections with the [club's] surroundings" . Thus, both in terms of goals both practical and architectural, Sky and malls share a great deal. Chapter 4 1 86

Yet if we can consider Sky as mall-like, we must consider the composition of the various attractions wiîhin Sky. Crawford, when discussing the make-up of malls, emphasizes the importance of ". ..the 'rnix' - each mall's unique blend of tenants and department store

'anchors'. The rnix is established and maintained by restrictive leases with clauses that control everything from decor to prices.. ." (Crawford: 8). Moreover, "[tlhe various predictable mixes are fine-tuned to the ethnic composition. income Ievels, and changing tastes of a particular shopping area" (Crawford: 9). What is Sky's "mixn and how does it compare to the village outside? A cornparison of Sky with the village detaiied in the Columbia FunMap reveals an interesting series of elisions and additions. Sky includes such important constituents of the village such as a restaurant, bars, dance clubs, and cabarets, but these various elements include or duplicate only 46% of the various establishments that make up the village. Many of the statistically significant establishments such as hotels (11.3 %), GLBT resources (6.6%)' erotica boutiques (6.1 %), saunas (5.2 56) and video outlets (4.2 46) have been excluded. Are these exclusions necessarily meaningful? The growing LaTrack complex. located just down the

Street from Sky, does include both a hotel and an erotica boutique: perhaps Sky simply does not want to duplicate the other mega clubs fomiing in the area. At the sarne tirne, however, the choices made by Viens were carehilly comidered and seem to focus on entertainment.

Avoiding both the practical and pedestrian (such as lodging or other services) and the overtly sexuai (such as erotic boutiques or videos), Sicy has createdlis creating itself as an entertainment complex par excellence: good clean fun? Perhaps this is another way in which

Sky is like a maii: both are slightly-sanitized versions of the ouuide world. Unlike K.O.X.and

La Track, L'Aigle Noir and Katakombes, Sky is attempting to draw on a wide variety of Chapter 4 1 87 customers with varied tastes and sensibilities: thus, by attempting to attract the largest possible market, Sky has 'cleaned up its act' in some sense. This is not to imply that Sky is a non- sexual space; go-go dancers and sensual videos are common in the club portions of the complex. I would merely like to emphasize that Sky presents itself as a "respectable* gay club, in part through its choice of "mix" .

However, simply because certain types of es~blishmentshave not been formally included within Sky, does not mean that the practices common in those establishments do not also take place at Sky. For instance, the Village includes one pom theatre (0.5%)which is not specifically included in Sky's list of attractions; yet Sky Club does feature many video screens, some of which feature pom videos on certain nights of the week. Similarly, the Columbia

FunMap lists one Escort Service, a service which is not provided by Viens and the Sky- complex; still, this forma1 exclusion does not necessarily mean that there are no escon services which operate out of Sky, that use Sky as a meeting place, that send their employees andlor customers to Sky. Still, these services are not formally ensconced within Sky, an important difference to remember: or at least, not for the moment. Crawford emphasizes the fact that

"[m]all managers constantly adjust the mix, using rents and leases to adapt to the rapidly changing patterns of consumption" (Crawford: 9). However, Viens is not in the position of

'mail manager'. Although he is the manager of Sky, he cannot quickly replace a sagging area with another more fashionable one. Sky 's Cabaret à Mado, which the flyer noted is " fresh out of the lounge movement", opened more than a year after Jeiîo Bar rnarked the beginning of the

'lounge revival' in Montréai; I'd question the 'freshnessn of mch a space. Viens, as ownedmanager doss not have the distance from his project tbat Crawford's mal1 managers Chapter 4 / 88

have, nor can he work with the same 'economy of scale' that they can. Thus, large changes

such as the ones currently underway at Sky, in which various 'rooms' are replaced and

remodelled are both infrequent and risky ventures; Viens does not and cannot "constantly ad-just the mixn in any concrete way. Still, change is coastant at a place such as Sky, as various theme nights and promotions, decorations and dancers come and go. Although large infrastmctural changes are infrequent, smaller, more 'cosmetic' ones allow Viens to adjust the mix somewhat. Once again, the sharp 'black and white' distinctions can and should be easily fuzzed by the actual practices that occur within the village and Sky itself.

Public vs. Private: Whose Public and Whose Private?

For Crawford, this 'mix' raises the question of the mall's relationship to reality. She casts the mail as "essentially a fantasy urbanism devoid of the city's negative aspects: weather, traffic, and poor peoplen (Crawford: 22). For her, the mall is a place where "past and future colkpse meaninglessly into the present; barriers between real and fake, near and far, dissolve as history, nature, technology, are indifferently processed by the mall's fantasy machinen

(Crawford: 4). However, despite the temptation to conceptualize Sky as a 'fake' village located within the real one, I am unwilling to do so. Sky is not any more or any less real or authentic than its surroundings. The village as a whole is made up of mostly capitalist ventures designed and run to make a profit for their owners: Sky is no different. The village exists as a historically situated space, shaped and affected by a multitude of forces, including local government, trends, and the shifting social patterns of the Montreal gay community: once again, Sky is no different. Where Sky does differ is that as a single entity, it is ownedicantralled by a much smaller group of people than the village as a whole; the multitude Chapter 4 1 89

of forces which shape Slq are strongly infiected by Pierre Viens and his managers at Sky.

This rnatter of centralized control is an important one, and one that raises many other issues,

including those of public and private space. Crawford highlights this issue in her paper,

emphasizing how malls have become defined as private space, despite their public function.

As the mal1 incorporated more and more of the city hide its walls, the nascent conflict between private and public space became acute. [The American] Supreme Court decisions confmed an Oregon's mall's legal right to be defined as private space, allowing bans on any activity the owners deemed detrimental to consumption. Justice Thurgood Marshall's dissenting opinion argued that since the mail had assumed the role of a traditional town square, as its sponsors continually boasted, it must dso assume its public responsibilities.. . (Crawford: 22)

Clearly, Crawford laments the rnall's definition as a private space and she highlights the power a of mal1 managers and the like to keep out certain "undesirablen individuals and practices, including the poor and homeless. This power is not lirnited to mal1 managers; any pseudo-

public space which is legally defined as private space presents deeply troubling problems of

control and power. Trevor Boddy, in his article "Underground and Overhead: Building the

Analogous City" discusses various pedestrian walkways that have been appearing in North

American cities such as Minneapolis, Calgary and Montréal since the mid 1960s. Particularly,

Boddy emphasizes the control exercised in these pseudo-public spaces, spaces such as the

Minneapolis Skyways, in which "[tlwo fomof policing kept the skyway system a haven of

middle-class propriety: formal, by police officers at key entrance stairs and security guards in

lobbies, and informai, through the visual codes and cues indicating that anyone not dressed

appropriately or behaving in an acceptable manner was unwelcome" (Boddy: 140).

Obviously, the transformation of the public space of the Street into the pseudo-public Chapter 4 1 90 space of the Minneapolis Skyway presents important and troubling problems; the ownersJmanagers of these spaces cm prevent individuals who do not conform to certain specifications (those of class, race, sexuality etc.) from participating in these spaces, a power that is rightly criticized by scholars such as Crawford and Boddy. However, in the case of the gay club, issues of public space (the "good") versus private space (the "bad") become somewhat more complex. When the public space is not necessarily a space of safety or acceptance -as is often the case for gay men and lesbians - perhaps private space becomes somehow preferable. 1s Sky, simply because it is operated by a single individual, necessarily more regulating than the streets of the gay village? Certainly there are practices that are unacceptable in both spaces; Sky no more allows sexual intercourse on the dance floor than the

M. U.C.Police would allow it in the middle of Rue Ste. Catherine. Sky certainly does and can act in the ways that Crawford feus, preventing certain "undesirable* persons and practices from entering the building; the cover charge can be used to exclude the poor, and the bouncers cmbe used to dissuade others who can acnially afford the price of admission: privacy afkrds the power of exclusion.

This power can be used to benefit the gay cornmunity, however, not just oppress it.

Practices that would not be acceptable on a typical MontrCal Street, such as two men or two women kissing each other passionately, are perfectly acceptable within Sky, creating a semi- public space for such moments and displays. Unfortunately, this possibility for semi-public spaces can lead to a self-ghettoization, a tendency which is already evident with the simple existence of the gay village. The concentration of gay establishments creates an undeniably

'gayn portion of a city; the city streets here often feature a difTerenr mVI of people, a different Chapter 4 / 91

variety of "acceptablen practices than in the rest of the city. Yet, these people. these practices

do remain public in the full sense of the word. As individuals walk dom Rue Ste. Catherine

from club to club, women walking arm in am,men being publicly affectionate, they are

defiantly visible and claim a public space as their own. People who are not necessarily gay,

but simply passing through the area cannot avoid the knowledge that this is a "gaywarea of

town, that there are homosexuals in Montréal. Yet with Sky's interiorization of the village,

this public-ness would be lost. If, as Viens wants, individuals will spend their entire evening

within Sky, not venniring outside, then this public to-hg and fro-ing disappears and the city

can forget or ignore the existence of the gay community. Sky, with its village-within-these-

walls aspirations, would therefore lhit the visibility of the gay comunity and thus perhaps

its voice. Groups such as Queer Nation recognire this possibility and attempt to fight against it @ by raising the visibility of the gay community; venturing out of the gay village and into the

unquestioned "straight space" of the city with public kiss-ins and Queer Night Outs, Queer

Nation attempts to use "exhibitionism to make pub1 ic space psychically unsafe for unexamined

heierosexuality" (Berlant and Freeman: 207).

Yet, perhaps this idea of publicness should be advanced one step further . Sky , as a

megaclub in Montréal, maintains a very high profile. Advenising in non-gay-specific

publications such as Mirror, Voir and Hour, posting its bills outside of the gay village, Sky is

an enterprise large enough to become a draw in its own right, for gay as well as non-gay

patrons. Thus Sky , although it may remove people from the public streets themselves, may in

fact raise the proNe of the gay community in the city as a whole. 1s Sky therefore increasing

or decreasing the 'publicness' of gay life in Montreal? By removing the actual people nom the Chapter 4 1 92

streets and replacing them with advertisements in magazines and on bill-boards, perhaps Sky is

in fact rnaintaining the publicness of the gay community, but turning it into a series of culturally constructed texts, rather than individually lived lives. This textualkation would seem to both enlarge this public space - af'ter all, not everyone who reads Mirror and Voir etc. actually ever make it down to the gay village - yet also take control of what exactly becomes public. No longer is this visibility left in the hands of the individuais who walk down the Street and decide what they will or will not Wear, will or will not do in public. In this textualized situation, visibility is left in the hands of the graphic designers employed by Sky, designers whose decisions are motivated by profit and consumer capitalism. Thus, at many levels, the existence of Sky as a village-within-its-walls reduces and changes the nature of the publicness of the gay community .

The Shape of Clubs to Corne: Sky and the Concept of the Gay Village

Of course, much of this argument assumes the existence of a concentrated, localized and in-some-way bounded gay village, a village chat many cities in fact do not possess.

Although most large urban centres such as Montréal and New York, Toronto and Los Angeles al1 have such villages, Boston does not, and neither does Minneapolis or Winnipeg. Of course, there are many reasons for cities not to have such villages. Boston, for example, has a large and thriving gay community , yet the gay village is not exactly centralized; instead, Boston's many gay clubs and venues such as restaurants, bookstores etc. are scattered about the city, far from each other. Many other smaller cities such as Minneapolis and Winnipeg do not have a substantial enough gay communiry to ewnornically support a large and thriving gay village.

Sky presents an interesthg number of possibilitiei to such places; how would a megaclub such Chapter 4 / 93 as Sky affect such places, where it would not necessarily supplement a gay village, but perhaps

focus or replace it?

In cities which feature a substantial gay community, but a far-flung village, Sky would

represent a signifiait concentration. Located not just in a single area of the city, but within a

single building, the various sub-clubs of a Sky could create an appeal based on convenience.

Pierre Viens' goal was to create a space which would discourage his customers f?om walking

across the street when they wanted to eat dinner or to change the Pace of their entertainment;

instead, he wanted thern to walk upstairs, to move from the Pub to Resto Bleu. In a situation

where the pub and the restaurant are not merely across the street from each other, but across

the city, Sky's concentration of attractions may be even more persuasive than in a situation a like that of Montreal. Thus Sky's pull as a rnagnet of gay activity would be even stronger. However, one must take into account that fact that the idea of a "localized villagen is

experienced in different ways in a different cities: the concept of 'localness' cmdiffer widely,

particularly in cities which are emphatically car-oriented. Although Boston's gay village rnay

seem scattered and without form to those of us familiar with the walkable villages of Toronto,

New York and Montréal, the Boston village may hold a sense of local coherence to its

community who fiequent it by car. From Playground to La Track in Montréal is a 10-15

minute walk; from The Ramrod to Chaps in Boston is an equivalent drive. Perhaps it is this

equivalence, the time it takes to get from one place to another using the prime mode of

transportation - walking, subway , dnving, cabs, etc.- that should be considered when

addressing the concept of a local village. Still, even if this idea of localness is descriptive (a

fact which motbe arcertained without a detaiied ethnographie study), and Bostods gay Chapter 4 1 94

village is in fact a dense and localized village for its community, a Sky-club would still

represent a marked increase in convenience for its paaons. One can imagine the benefits of

only having to find parking once in an evening, perhaps located in an underground parking

garage below the club. Similarly, parking could be free for those who spend a pre-determined

period of the in the club itself, thus further encouraging Viens' extended visits. Thus,

although Sky's position in a city like Boston rnay not be necessarily new (since Boston's

village may not in fact be that different from that of Montréal), it would still fulfill many of

the same functions as that of Sky in Montréal, and perhaps fulfill them to a greatcr degree: it

would still be a village within a village, but would perform an even greater act of

concentration.

However, in smaller centres which cannot necessarily suppon a gay village. localized or not, Sky would tmly represent a dramatic set of new possibilities. A self-contained village, a Sky could offer more options than what the city could already support. In a city with a small gay comrnunity , various restaurants and pubs, clubs and performances spaces cannot survive on their own; their clientele would be spread too thin and no single club would survive.

However, a Sky minimizes many of the problerns of overhead involved in running a club in a

sparsely populated area, including those of staffing and advertising. With a nurnber of sirnilar clubs or establishments in a gay village, certain duties and services are duplicated, a duplication that a small cornmunity can often not support. This duplication could be minimized through the sale of a Sky-club; for example, as a Sky, the same busboys could serve the Pub, the Resto and the Club, thus cutting dom on staff expenses. Similarly, a full page of advertising cos6 les than four quarter-page advcrtisernents: four subclubs, owned and Chapter 4 / 95

operated by a single individual could thus buy a full page of advertising in the local paper less

expensively than would four similar separately-run establishments. Moreover, managerial

overhead would be reduced as well, with the single club employing a single accountant, single

lawyer, single graphic designer, etc. Thus, although the manager of a Sky-club does not

comrnand the economy of sale of the large mal1 managers, the multiplex nature of such a club

still provides him/her with substantial advantages over the single business owner, allowing

hidher to capitalize on a variety of different types of entertainment yet keep hisiher operational costs low. This variety also makes the cover charge more reasonable; paying a single cover charge of W.00 (the current cover charge at Sb in Montréal) for three entire

floors of various entertainments rnay be more appealing than paying $2.00 at a number of different venues. Furthemore, without the existence of a gay village to emulate or compete with, the Sky-club would be able to locate itself anywhere in the city. Not needing to compete with the downtown village, the Sb-club could situate itself in the suburbs or on the margins of the city-centre, where real-estate and property taxes are less expensive. Still available to iü downtown constituents , this new club could conceivably expand its horizons somewhat , perhaps including a community centre and meeting hall. Thus, the Sky-club may in fact follow the trajectory of the mall iwlf, or the superstore: one-stop-shopping for al1 your gay community needs. The club itself would also most likely undergo major architectural changes, in order to rnaximize the space available in suburban situations. Appearing to be much like any other suburban mall, a low-level building surrounded by parking lots, this new club would represent the ultimate fulNment of the Sky's theoreticai possibilities: the gay rnall.

Taking Aim: The Gay Community as Target Market Chapter 4 / 96

Of course, much of this rhetoric of possibility is based on a capitalistic mode1 - "one stop shopping for al1 your gay comrnunity needs" - and those who cannot afford to shop at the megaclub may not be able to partake in this community. The working class and poor gay male community and the lesbian cornmunity in particular rnay not be suitable to partake in this version of community. The lesbian cornmunity as a whole, whose members are often at a fuiancial disadvantage due to the disparity between men's and women's working wages, does not possess the same demographic charms as those touted for the male gay cornmunity and are less popular with club-owners and promoters. Thus, there are less services aiid entertainment options available to lesbians. Afier all, Sky is a large club for the gay community - understood as the gay male community - which has a lesbian night once a week; the possibility of a lesbian megaclub, with its own variety of attractions and a men's night once a week seems very uniikely. Still, capitalism can and does support non-capitalist enterprises, much like Sky in Montréal currently supports community events such as HomoProrno and various speaker series etc. However. this benevolent version of queer capitalism grows out of a conception of the "gay enterprise" as something which should and does support the "gay community". As the so-called gay market expands however, and various companies and corporations discover the much-touted dernographics of the gay (male) consumer, more and more individuals will attempt to capitalize on this market, many without any affiliation to the larger gay community .

This trend has already begun, with such major companies such as Labatts and Absolut,

Abercrombie & Fitch and PizzaPizza attempting to woo the gay market witb advertising aimed, either directly or indirectly, at gay consumcrs. In this situation, the gay club becornes a Chapter 4 1 97 point of contact, a known situation, a place where the market can be found, investigated and

exploited. An article called "Out and Aboutn from the Globe & Mail's in-house Repon on

Business Magaine details some of this 'investigation".

The bright young men and women who invaded Woody's, a cavemous gay bar on Toronto's Church Street a couple of years ago, were fashionably dressed and sociable to the point of suspicion. Known to themselves as Road Warriors, their mission was to park themselves discreetiy next to gay men and lesbians in the bar and chat about tastes in beer and consumption habits. While Woody's customers slurped their suds, their interviewers covenly aimed miniuture video cameras ut them. Afterwards, the Road Warriors' employers, executives from the Toronto advenising fmn of Lowe SMS, pored delightedly over the rnurky images created by the wide-angle, infrared lenses. They were looking into a world that they had never seen before, the emerging and potentially lucrative habitat of the gay conrumer. (Mitchell: 90-9 1, emphasis added)

Thus, the gay bar becomes a site where the "outside world" cm be sure to find a large population of gay consumers, and the megaclub only intensifies this effect. If Woody's would be considered a "cavenous gay bar", then Sky, which is at least twice the size, would have to be "enormous" or "never-ending". Similarly, if Woody's is useful as a site of surveillance, then Sky would be more so, with its more varied entertainment offerings and its more varied clientele. With these issues in mind, the rhetonc of visibility and disavowal that surrounds places such as Sky and the gay village in general becomes more than just an issue of being noticed and accepted. It can also be seen as a tension between being safe and invisible vs. being dangerously exposed. To be seen is not simply to be celebrated, but to be studied and interrogated, tracked and scrutinized. Of course, the article in Report on Business Magozine neglects to raise any of the possibly unsavoury implications of such practices, preferring to merely laud the possibilities of a new and untapped market, and support any practices that allow the exploration of that Chapter 4 1 98

market.

Both Michel Foucault and Leo Bersani, however, question these practices, and in fact

question the value of visibility as a whole. They discuss visibility in terms of being seen and

discussed by a socially dominant group, groups such as the advertising executives of Lowe SMS.

Foucault theonzes visibility in tems of discipline: b'In discipline, it is the subjects who have to

be seen. Their visibility assures the hold of the power that is exercised over them. It is the fact of

being constantly seen, of being able always to be seen, that maintains the disciplined individual

in his [sic] subjection" (Foucault: 187). In a society in which "coming out" is still a traumatic

experience and is ofien a choice fraught with major life-consequences, the idea of anyone

sumptitiously videotaping in a gay bar seems dangerous. OAen the people at a gay bar are not

necessarily "out" in their private life, their public life, or their professional life and thus these

videotapes could inadvertently force someone out of hisher closet. In addition, intentional outing

and blackmail are not unheardsf possibilities, and are certainly made more possible with

sornething like ipideotapes;the fact that the oivners of these tapes are not from within the gay cornmunity only makes this taping practice more questionable.

Following Foucault, Leo Bersani focusses specifically not just on issues of surveillance

and visibility in general but more specifically on issues of visibility and gay men. Thenrizing the current visibility of the gay cornmunity, Bersani asserts that the mainly-heterosexual dominant group can safely watch Gay Pride parades and queer television characten because ADS is slowly eliminating gay men nom society. Hence, gay men's visibility is only palatable to

"straight Amerka" because of their absolute lack of power (Bersani: 24-25). Of course, with auch obvious markcrs of power as the large and thriving nightclubs like SQ, perhaps the Chapter 4 1 99

quality of the gay community's visibility is shifting. Still, this visibility cannot be welcomed

with unquestioning acceptance. With the rise of hate crimes and intranational terrorist

incidents such as the Oklahoma City bombing and the various abortion clinic bombings, one cannot help but wonder about the unfortunate possibüities of high profile ventures such as

Sky, or the large Pride events in Toronto and Montréal. When a group which is still not widely socially acceptable - the gay community, the Jewish community, the pro-choice movement - establishes large and high profile events andlor establishments, these events cm often become sites for protest or violence; witness the frequent bomb threats and vandalism at synagogues and abortion clinics across North America, and the frequency of gay-bashings outside of gay bars. 1 personally have thought many tirnes, when at a large gay community event, about how easy it would be for an anti-gay group to target and attack the march, film or club. In fact, in February of 1997, a crowded gay bar in Atlanta was rocked by the explosion of a pipe bomb, which injured several people (NGLTFPress Release). Megaclubs such as

Sky, whether they be located within the gay villages of large centres like Montréal or Toronto, or whether are the sole gay enterprise in a smaller city, could thus become the focal points for violence or protest; their scale, and theu centrality in the gay scene would make them the most obvious targets within most settings. This of course should not prevent their existence, but simply must be taken into consideration when theorking the possibilities for such a space.

Visibility and prominence bring with them a price: visibility and prominence. Chapter Five Shifting Grounds, Shifting Skies: The Mega-Club and the Realm of Possibility

Sky, as a complex architectural site, as a complicated set of managerial practices, and as a popular space for gay men and women in Montrkal, embodies many important forces active in gay villages and gay communities across North America at the end of the twentieth century. This project has attempted to investigate these forces through a case-study of Sky. By documenting Sb's existence, growth, and future possbilities, I have attempted to link a number of different theoretical perspectives on the space of the gay bar and the gay village, while rooting them in the actual practices and happenings at a particular Montréal gay entertainment complex. Through this exploration, 1 have argued that Sky cannot be theorized as either a wholly oppressive development, or as a completely liberatory one. Certainly , the development of Sky into a mega-club is rooted in late twentieth century capitalism, its drive towards market segmentation and division. and its production of ever-greater concentrations of ownership. This concentration of both ownership and of patronage creates the mega-club as a site of possible surveillance and even of anti-gay activity. At the same tirne, however, Sky offers a multitude of spaces for many different gay men and wornen to meet, to congregate, to create their own communities. With its logic of self-enclosure and the economic advantages which accompany this managerial integration, a Sky-like mega-club could offer a greater variety of options to a gay community which may not be able to economicaiiy support a fully- formed gay village. Thus, Sky is both a warning of possible dangers in the future development of gay clubs - concentration of ownership. the removal of a gay presence fmm Chapter 5 1 101 city streets, the foregrounding of certain practices and identities over others - while it is also an indication of the positive possibilities of such a club. Afier all, other mega-clubs need not be so tightly controlled or profitdriven. One can image a mega-club such as Sky being owned and operated by a queer CO-operative,which uses the profits of one section of the complex to supplement another section: a bar paying for a comrnunity centre; a restaurant supporting an art gallery .

Imagination is not enough. however. More research and investigation into clubs and club-practices is necessary before such liberatory daims cm be made. How do other burgeoning mega-clubs operate, and how comrnon is the mega-club? 1s Sky in Montréal ahead of its time, or merely reflecting the developments in clubcultures of other cities? Equally important is the question of the patrons themselves. This project focussed primarily on Sky itself: the building, the managers, the DJs, the possibilities. However, an analysis of Sky without an investigation of the patrons themselves seems somewhat incomplete. What do Sky's club-goers and bar-patrons think about the changes cunently undenvay? How do they use these spaces? Although Viens bas a particular vision of how Sky should function in Montréal's gay village, how does it aaually function, and for whom does it function that way? Al1 of these questions need to be answered before any investigation of a club such as Sky could be complete. Thus, 1 hope to pursue an ethnographie project with Sky as my site, in order to investigate these and other questions. A long-term field ethnography would allow me to pursue the question of a club's ecoaomy of hipness, obsewing and interviewing both those inside and outside this world of hip. In addition, an ethnography would allow me to root speculation about the resistive and liberatory practices of the often-theorid club-goer in the actual lives Chapter 5 / 102

and practices of specific Slry patrons. Thus, an ethnagraphic projen would provide the

necessary balance to my current analytical work on Sky: as always, more work remains to be done.

Epilope:

Club cultures in general are lively, constantlythanging worlds of competing interests, establishments, and individuah. This project was begun in the spring of 1996, and much of the research took place that spring and surnrner. Of course, a great ded has changed in Montréal's gay club-scape since then. The Station "Cmcomplex has changed ownership, K.O.X.has becorne a club now known as Home, and the La Track complexe has expanded even faster than Sky, now taking up an entire city block. Sky itself has slowed the rate of its expansion, and some of the proposed renovations have been delayed for an undisclosed period of tirne.

Despite these changes, Sky remains an important player in hntréal's gay village. A physically impressive space drawing thousands of visitors each week, Se presents both the club-goer and the researcher with a wealth of possibilities, with dangers and promises. Only time can reveal what these dangers and promises will bring. Works Cited 1 103 Works Cited

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