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From the Star:
Goodbye Gaytown?
Church Street's gay village, the centre of gay culture in Toronto, is under siege, writes Bruce DeMara
May 13, 2006. 08:40 AM
For a generation, Church Street has been the epicentre of Toronto's gay nightlife scene. Its bars, clubs, coffee shops and restaurants provide an open, vibrant and often outrageous place to hang out and hook up.
But there is a growing sense that the central corridor holding together the amorphous "gay village" is under siege — from high rents, shifting demographics, condo expansion and complacency.
The street — a unifying symbol to the community — appears to be in serious decline. And while it might seem an issue of importance only to the gay community, it's actually a concern that goes beyond narrow local interests.
The street plays host to one of the largest summer celebrations, Pride Week. Not only does Pride bring in millions of dollars in tourism spending, it enhances the city's reputation for tolerance and brings Torontonians of all ilks and orientations closer together.
Increasing numbers of camera-toting suburbanites with kids in tow, for instance, make the trek to Church Street for Halloween festivities featuring a calvacade of bizarre and colourful costumes. The area also has great shopping in small outlets like the This Ain't The Rosedale Library bookstore and Reither's Fine Food — part of the ambiance creating a vibrant downtown neighbourhood.
But residents of the area are expressing growing unease about its future.
"Certainly people I've talked to have voiced some concerns," said Steven Bereznai, editor-in-chief of fab magazine, a gay publication based on Church. "They're talking about how there aren't as many younger (people) coming into the village as there used to be, which is kind of a prelude to `Who's going to keep this neighbourhood gay if you don't have a younger generation coming in?'"
Councillor Kyle Rae, who has represented the area for 14 years, said the topic of the street's perceived decline is something he discusses with constituents on a growing basis.
"Here's the stuff I'm worried about — people are tired of the littering, tired of the street kids and the hustlers and the drug dealers and drug users on the street. People describe the neighbourhood to me now as sketchy," Rae said.
But Bereznai also notes that bars and nightclubs on the street — the queer community's equivalent of the Entertainment District — are being too complacent, as other entrepreneurs across the city make greater efforts to attract gay dollars.
Listings in fab of gay-friendly establishments include ever more places outside the traditional confines of the "village," with many in the College West area. In fact, the Church St. locales have become fewer than the number of "elsewhere" listings in the magazine, which include mainstream destinations like the Drake Hotel and the Gladstone Hotel.
"We've got tons of events happening outside of the village. People (elsewhere) are pushing the edge in terms of new events," Bereznai said, citing "queer alternative" happenings in the city's west end.
Also alarming for many is that the high-profile places that once defined the street are disappearing one at a time.
In April of 2004 "the steps" at Church and Wellesley — an informal hang-out place for many years — disappeared when the store frontage was extended closer to the street.
While that may have displaced unruly street youths who were contributing to crime in the community, it also put an end to an iconic meeting place where people traditionally gathered for a coffee before heading to a bar or nightclub, or for a post-2 a.m. last-chance-for-romance bid.
In October of last year, the city's oldest gay bar, The Barn, closed following the brutal murder of Janko Naglic, a part-owner who ran the three-storey nightclub that featured dance floors on each level. A legal battle over the ownership of The Barn is expected to take years to resolve and the chances of it ever re-opening are considered remote.
Its closing means there are no dance clubs operating legally on Church St., a result of a 1988 bylaw which denies licences for such establishments beyond the borders of the Entertainment District.
Most recently Bar 501, which at one time hosted the wildly popular Sunday "window shows" — in which drag artists would play simultaneously to the room and to the street — closed up after 15 years.
Commercial real estate leasing rates along Church Street, among the highest in the city, are part of the problem. Vacant spaces often take months to rent, a factor many cite in expressing their concerns for the future of the gay village.
"I think Church Street's single biggest problem is greedy landlords and people who think that because a business is gay, it's automatically something that generates millions of dollars," said Peter Bochove, who owns the Spa Excess bathhouse on nearby Carlton St.
Bochove is also worried that with The Barn closed and few alternatives within a short distance of Church Street, "people who want to dance are going out to College West."
Robert Knight, owner of Pegasus Bar on Church, agreed the rents are "totally out of whack."
Knight also noted that aging gay Baby Boomers once needed the security of an enclave centred on Church Street while newer generations do not.
"Baby Boomers ... needed the village at their time in life and now they're diminishing. Who are they being replaced by? By young people who don't feel the same need for anonymity and protection," Knight said.
"There are straight clubs that you (as a gay person) can go to and be comfortable. People won't bother you as long as you're not deep-throating somebody," Knight said.
"As a business owner, I feel maybe a little concerned. As a gay man, I think it's quite nice."
Businesswoman Heather Mackenzie, who used to operate Slack Alice, a once trendy martini bar-nightclub on Church, recently opened Big Mamma's Boy, a bar-restaurant on Parliament St., a strategic location not far from the gay village.
"I left Church Street because it was dying," Mackenzie said. "I moved to Parliament because I'm paying one-quarter of what people pay on Church."
Her other big knock against the street is the arrival of "corporate" chain establishments like O'Grady's Tap & Grill and the Firkin group of pubs (the Churchmouse and Firkin is the Church Street version) that can afford to occupy prime real estate while crowding out smaller, gay-oriented proprietorships.
"People supported us because we were small-owned. Now people aren't so discerning, they go to the corporate-owned pubs. I don't think people care that much any more about supporting their local gay (business owner)," she said.
Mackenzie hopes Parliament St. may soon attract other entrepreneurs like herself, noting 80 per cent of her clientele is queer.
Another issue: new couples-oriented gay communities are springing up in places like Leslieville, South Riverdale and Parkdale, far from Church Street.
"I think the gay identity is diffuse now. There are so many neighbourhoods that you can walk in hand with your partner. In my time, you only did that on Church Street," Rae said.
"We're now able to feel `out,' comfortable and proud in neighbourhoods across the city," he added.
Meanwhile for Church Street, the other side of the coin is the influx of condo towers that is bringing in thousands of new residents, including young heterosexual couples.
Realtor and long-time area resident Gord Mason said the village is in a prime downtown location, close to Yonge Street and nightlife of all kinds and well-serviced by 24-hour public transit.
"They (straight couples) are very happy to be moving into the area because it has the perception of being a safe neighbourhood and a fun neighbourhood," Mason said.
Mason and others point to persistent rumours that strategic blocs of land along the street are slated to fall soon to the wrecker's ball to make way for new condos.
Dennis O'Connor, president of the Church-Wellesley Business Improvement Area, acknowledged big changes are afoot.
"I foresee (the street) will be a little less gay and a little more homogeneous," he said.
O'Connor said the street was "a backwater" until the first cluster of gay-friendly businesses started to take root there in the mid-1980s.
"Now we've arrived at the gentrification of Church Street (and) we've gotten to the point where we can no longer afford to be there. Smaller gay businesses are going to say, `Now we need to find ourselves a new neighbourhood,'" said O'Connor, who moved his own small business elsewhere in the past year. "Church Street definitely is evolving."
Will it still be known as the gay village in years to come?
"I don't know. Time will tell," he said.
AoD
Goodbye Gaytown?
Church Street's gay village, the centre of gay culture in Toronto, is under siege, writes Bruce DeMara
May 13, 2006. 08:40 AM
For a generation, Church Street has been the epicentre of Toronto's gay nightlife scene. Its bars, clubs, coffee shops and restaurants provide an open, vibrant and often outrageous place to hang out and hook up.
But there is a growing sense that the central corridor holding together the amorphous "gay village" is under siege — from high rents, shifting demographics, condo expansion and complacency.
The street — a unifying symbol to the community — appears to be in serious decline. And while it might seem an issue of importance only to the gay community, it's actually a concern that goes beyond narrow local interests.
The street plays host to one of the largest summer celebrations, Pride Week. Not only does Pride bring in millions of dollars in tourism spending, it enhances the city's reputation for tolerance and brings Torontonians of all ilks and orientations closer together.
Increasing numbers of camera-toting suburbanites with kids in tow, for instance, make the trek to Church Street for Halloween festivities featuring a calvacade of bizarre and colourful costumes. The area also has great shopping in small outlets like the This Ain't The Rosedale Library bookstore and Reither's Fine Food — part of the ambiance creating a vibrant downtown neighbourhood.
But residents of the area are expressing growing unease about its future.
"Certainly people I've talked to have voiced some concerns," said Steven Bereznai, editor-in-chief of fab magazine, a gay publication based on Church. "They're talking about how there aren't as many younger (people) coming into the village as there used to be, which is kind of a prelude to `Who's going to keep this neighbourhood gay if you don't have a younger generation coming in?'"
Councillor Kyle Rae, who has represented the area for 14 years, said the topic of the street's perceived decline is something he discusses with constituents on a growing basis.
"Here's the stuff I'm worried about — people are tired of the littering, tired of the street kids and the hustlers and the drug dealers and drug users on the street. People describe the neighbourhood to me now as sketchy," Rae said.
But Bereznai also notes that bars and nightclubs on the street — the queer community's equivalent of the Entertainment District — are being too complacent, as other entrepreneurs across the city make greater efforts to attract gay dollars.
Listings in fab of gay-friendly establishments include ever more places outside the traditional confines of the "village," with many in the College West area. In fact, the Church St. locales have become fewer than the number of "elsewhere" listings in the magazine, which include mainstream destinations like the Drake Hotel and the Gladstone Hotel.
"We've got tons of events happening outside of the village. People (elsewhere) are pushing the edge in terms of new events," Bereznai said, citing "queer alternative" happenings in the city's west end.
Also alarming for many is that the high-profile places that once defined the street are disappearing one at a time.
In April of 2004 "the steps" at Church and Wellesley — an informal hang-out place for many years — disappeared when the store frontage was extended closer to the street.
While that may have displaced unruly street youths who were contributing to crime in the community, it also put an end to an iconic meeting place where people traditionally gathered for a coffee before heading to a bar or nightclub, or for a post-2 a.m. last-chance-for-romance bid.
In October of last year, the city's oldest gay bar, The Barn, closed following the brutal murder of Janko Naglic, a part-owner who ran the three-storey nightclub that featured dance floors on each level. A legal battle over the ownership of The Barn is expected to take years to resolve and the chances of it ever re-opening are considered remote.
Its closing means there are no dance clubs operating legally on Church St., a result of a 1988 bylaw which denies licences for such establishments beyond the borders of the Entertainment District.
Most recently Bar 501, which at one time hosted the wildly popular Sunday "window shows" — in which drag artists would play simultaneously to the room and to the street — closed up after 15 years.
Commercial real estate leasing rates along Church Street, among the highest in the city, are part of the problem. Vacant spaces often take months to rent, a factor many cite in expressing their concerns for the future of the gay village.
"I think Church Street's single biggest problem is greedy landlords and people who think that because a business is gay, it's automatically something that generates millions of dollars," said Peter Bochove, who owns the Spa Excess bathhouse on nearby Carlton St.
Bochove is also worried that with The Barn closed and few alternatives within a short distance of Church Street, "people who want to dance are going out to College West."
Robert Knight, owner of Pegasus Bar on Church, agreed the rents are "totally out of whack."
Knight also noted that aging gay Baby Boomers once needed the security of an enclave centred on Church Street while newer generations do not.
"Baby Boomers ... needed the village at their time in life and now they're diminishing. Who are they being replaced by? By young people who don't feel the same need for anonymity and protection," Knight said.
"There are straight clubs that you (as a gay person) can go to and be comfortable. People won't bother you as long as you're not deep-throating somebody," Knight said.
"As a business owner, I feel maybe a little concerned. As a gay man, I think it's quite nice."
Businesswoman Heather Mackenzie, who used to operate Slack Alice, a once trendy martini bar-nightclub on Church, recently opened Big Mamma's Boy, a bar-restaurant on Parliament St., a strategic location not far from the gay village.
"I left Church Street because it was dying," Mackenzie said. "I moved to Parliament because I'm paying one-quarter of what people pay on Church."
Her other big knock against the street is the arrival of "corporate" chain establishments like O'Grady's Tap & Grill and the Firkin group of pubs (the Churchmouse and Firkin is the Church Street version) that can afford to occupy prime real estate while crowding out smaller, gay-oriented proprietorships.
"People supported us because we were small-owned. Now people aren't so discerning, they go to the corporate-owned pubs. I don't think people care that much any more about supporting their local gay (business owner)," she said.
Mackenzie hopes Parliament St. may soon attract other entrepreneurs like herself, noting 80 per cent of her clientele is queer.
Another issue: new couples-oriented gay communities are springing up in places like Leslieville, South Riverdale and Parkdale, far from Church Street.
"I think the gay identity is diffuse now. There are so many neighbourhoods that you can walk in hand with your partner. In my time, you only did that on Church Street," Rae said.
"We're now able to feel `out,' comfortable and proud in neighbourhoods across the city," he added.
Meanwhile for Church Street, the other side of the coin is the influx of condo towers that is bringing in thousands of new residents, including young heterosexual couples.
Realtor and long-time area resident Gord Mason said the village is in a prime downtown location, close to Yonge Street and nightlife of all kinds and well-serviced by 24-hour public transit.
"They (straight couples) are very happy to be moving into the area because it has the perception of being a safe neighbourhood and a fun neighbourhood," Mason said.
Mason and others point to persistent rumours that strategic blocs of land along the street are slated to fall soon to the wrecker's ball to make way for new condos.
Dennis O'Connor, president of the Church-Wellesley Business Improvement Area, acknowledged big changes are afoot.
"I foresee (the street) will be a little less gay and a little more homogeneous," he said.
O'Connor said the street was "a backwater" until the first cluster of gay-friendly businesses started to take root there in the mid-1980s.
"Now we've arrived at the gentrification of Church Street (and) we've gotten to the point where we can no longer afford to be there. Smaller gay businesses are going to say, `Now we need to find ourselves a new neighbourhood,'" said O'Connor, who moved his own small business elsewhere in the past year. "Church Street definitely is evolving."
Will it still be known as the gay village in years to come?
"I don't know. Time will tell," he said.
AoD