Article originally published June 7, 2012 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

In this edition of her nightclub-history series, Denise Benson revisits the most sexcess-ful, celeb-studded gay house club of the ‘90s.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: JOY, 16 Phipps

Years of operation: 1995-1997

History: The rapidly changing streets surrounding Toronto’s Yonge and St. Joseph intersection were once a mecca for adventurous late-night dancers. Some of the hub’s gay and after-hours history was explored in earlier Then & Now pieces about influential 1980s venues Voodoo and Club Z; now, we return during the ’90s, before the area was transformed by the massive condo development we see today.

The tiny Phipps Street is tucked in just north of Wellesley and south of St. Joseph, running east-west from St. Nicholas to Bay. In the mid-’70s, while big gay dance club The Manatee drew crowds to 11A St. Joseph, Club David’s brought gay revelers south down the alley, to 16 Phipps, where a gold rendition of Michelangelo’s David presided over the dancefloor. In the ’80s, David was out and mirrors were in as the building became new gay club Le Mystique.

Although it later housed a variety of warehouse parties, early raves and other one-off events, the building still featured some of Mystique’s décor when John Wulff and silent partners went to view 16 Phipps early in March of 1995. The former storehouse, complete with its old loading dock and a small tunnel that connected it to 11A St. Joseph (it’s thought a conveyor belt once ran between the two), was in rough shape.

Outside 16 Phipps, pre-JOY. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

Wulff—who’d been socializing “seven days a week” in Toronto’s downtown gay scene since he was 16, and had worked for clubs including Gilles Belanger’s B-Bar—was ready to produce something of his own. He saw the 6,000 sq. ft. space as being well-suited to his vision of an after-hours dance club, located near the gay village, that would feature house music, art, and performance.

“The space was big, raw, and warehousey,” recalls Wulff. “We ripped everything out, soundproofed the walls, sprayed everything black, and installed a sound system.”

Inside of 16 Phipps, pre-JOY. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

“Physically, JOY was a big black box,” adds DJ Scott Cairns, who would become the club’s Saturday night resident. “It was mainly dancefloor, with a raised area in the back where people could get a bird’s-eye view of what was happening below. It was dark and sexy. The lighting was minimal, with the focus being the giant disco ball in the centre of the floor.”

JOY opened its doors at 1 a.m.—then last call at licensed bars—on Friday, March 17, 1995. Although the promotion of Fridays faltered at first, JOY’s Saturdays were an immediate hit and soon regularly exceeded the legal capacity of 472 people.

“JOY quickly became the late night go-to spot,” says Cairns. “Mainly a gay event, the Saturdays were heavily attended by a wide cross-section of people: drag queens, muscle boys, dykes, models—all the usual suspects—with a gay-positive hetero element. Straight girls and their terrified boyfriends were often on hand.”

JOY dancefloor. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

Why it was important: The timing of JOY could not have been better. As a gay-heavy, house music focussed, late-night dance club, it filled a lot of gaps. The warehouse scene had slowed, raves had grown larger and younger, and the music at Toronto gay bars had become increasingly commercial.

“JOY was completely on its own,” says Wulff. “The gay clubs, like Boots, Colby’s and The Barn, were playing Top 40 with the occasional house song while raves were playing Euro-ish fast beats. JOY was playing the newest and best underground house music, and felt like warehouse parties in Chicago or Detroit. JOY didn’t feel like Canada; it felt very New York, and people were very excited to be part of the energy.”

“JOY was very important at the time as it offered an after-hours experience that was safe and close to home for a big portion of the gay community,” adds Cairns, a 30-year DJ veteran who, by then, had wrapped up popular residencies at both The Phoenix and OZ.

“There was a definite thirst for something new in the core. I feel we provided that big time.”

“The JOY space had cachet from being a gay and alternative club over many years,” says James Vandervoort, better known as James St. Bass, a friend and frequent DJ partner of Cairns’. Vandervoort had come out while dancing in nearby ’80s clubs like Stages, Avalon, and Voodoo, and had himself brought gay clubbers west of Yonge while DJing boys’ nights at both Go-Go and Boom Boom Room.

“By the time JOY got started, it felt like coming home to gay after-hours dancing, but it was our time and our generation that was running it. JOY took the tradition of those earlier after-hours dances, but had more glamour, energy, and perhaps danger than the others that came before. It was raw, dark, sexy and, best of all, so central. JOY had the sound and feel of an illicit warehouse party, but was there every weekend—and with no chasing phone-line prompts to find it!”

Scott Cairns (left), John Wulff and Gilles Belanger. Photo courtesy of Wulff.

Cairns created much of the atmosphere with his music, often playing five full hours of the house he loved.

“Some of the best house was coming out in 1995 to ’96,” Cairns enthuses. “Big records for me at JOY included tracks from Farley & Heller a.k.a. Roach Motel, like ‘Wild Luv‘ and ‘Work 2 Doo.’ The dub of Joi Cardwell’s ‘Jump For Joi‘ was massive, as was H2O’s ‘Satisfied (Take Me Higher),’ and Robbie Tronco’s ‘Walk for Me.’ Tracks from producers like Danny Tenaglia, Roger S., MURK, Angel Moraes and Mousse T. were really big.

“And then came Boris Dlugosch and ‘Keep Pushin’,’” Cairns continues. “My friend Mitch Winthrop had just came back from visiting Boris in Germany, and arrived at JOY with a test press of this forthcoming single. I dropped it immediately and the reaction was intense. Later, in June of 1996, I had the pleasure of being joined by Boris at JOY. During his set, he dropped Giorgio Moroder’s ‘Chase.’ It’s one of my strongest memories from the club.”

LISTEN: Scott Cairns Live at JOY

The intense atmosphere of Saturdays at JOY can also be attributed to the dreams and antics of host John Wulff.

“My responsibility was to create an experience every week, and I’m proud of the events we put together,” he says.

For Halloween of 1995, Wulff performed as Carrie, complete with wig, white dress, pyrotechnics and Gilles Belanger as his Tommy Ross.

Another week, he recounts, “I rode into JOY on a motorcycle, in a star-spangled bikini, wrapped in an American flag and did Sandra Bernhardt’s strip tease from Without You I’m Nothing to [Prince's] ‘Little Red Corvette.’”

Frequently, Wulff could be found lying on a bed placed in the middle of the club on a scaffold.

“It was a mattress with gold satin sheets where whoever was feeling it would lounge or simulate sex shows,” says Wulff. “Various guests starred on that bed, from me to porn stars to beefcake male gymnasts stretching in silver sequin g-strings.”

He also recalls that JOY’s New Year’s 1996 party was perhaps the height of their (s)excess.

“We re-did the interior from black box to a glamorous ’30s speakeasy,” Wulff explains. “We installed two large chandeliers, and had an artist paint a 27-foot-long Tamara de Lempicka naked-woman portrait. We squeezed 1,200 people into that room. It was raining from the sweat and condensation—everyone was pretty much naked. I’ve never felt energy like that.”

JOY mural. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

Wulff, in fact, starred alongside the many local and international celebs who passed through the club’s doors on weekends. Dozens of actors, models and musicians took part, ranging from Madonna and her tour dancers to Alanis Morissette, Terrence Trent D’Arby, John Goodman, Geena Davis, Montreal supermodel Ève Salvail, 90210 star Kathleen Robertson, and Heather Tom of The Young and the Restless, a soap widely adored by gay men.

But it wasn’t just Saturday nights and celebrity cameos that made JOY special. About a month after the club opened, Fridays were properly launched, with Jennstar at the helm. The promoter and hostess had already worked for years at Queens Quay nightclub RPM, was a columnist for TRIBE magazine, and was known for bringing warehouse heads, clubbers, and ravers of all sexual orientations together.

Jennstar at JOY. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

Jennstar recruited fellow Futureshock crew members Gavin Bryan and Nnamdi Gryffyn a.k.a. DJ Gryphon, and they assembled a team that brought the Friday night concept called “Jennstar…She’ll Make You Famous” to life.

“We were inspired by fashion, fabulousness, fierceness, all the F words—including ‘famous,’” says Jennstar. “Everyone who attended JOY was fierce in their own way. This was a time when a lot of people were just starting their businesses—hair, make-up, graphic artists, performers, club-kids, you name it.”

Flyer courtesy of Jennstar

Opening night was packed, with NYC’s Frankie Knuckles on the decks and Jennstarr performing as Sunset Boulevard’s Norma Desmond. Fridays consistently bridged crowds and communities, with ace rotating resident DJs Gryphon, Jason Hodges, Matt C, Mario J, and Kenny Glasgow working their musical magic.

“I remember walking down the alley, hearing the music get louder as you’d approach, and then turning the corner to see a lineup of people trying to get in every week,” recalls Hodges of his first real residency. “It was a rush.”

Lineup outside of JOY. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

“JOY was a place where that warehouse vibe was strong,” adds Hodges, a now-established DJ/producer. “The sound was big, and the vibe was dope. It was a solid night that drew music-driven crowds who knew what was up.”

Most of Fridays’ cast of players—from door staff to DJs and dancers—very much knew what was up. Many would form the core of Industry Nightclub, which opened about a year and a half after JOY.

One of these people was Rommel, a house-music lover who danced many weekends away at JOY, and frequently hosted Fridays’ VIP room.

“JOY was my version of Studio 54,” says Rommel. “Favourite memories include Frankie Knuckles playing an amazing set, Franklin Fuentes performing his club hit ‘If Madonna Calls,’ and, of course, our very own Jackae [Baker], with her many fabulous performances.”

John Wulff (left) and Rommel. Photo courtesy of Wulff.

“Jennstar, Rommel, and Jackae brought the glamour and the fun,” says Vandervoort. “It was decadent for sure, but also very funny. There were feature shows and drag-fashion fabulousness that got sloppier the later it got, so it never had the heavy dark feeling of some raves; it was more pure gay lasciviousness and bold fun. You could be any orientation and be welcome at JOY, but you likely had a better time if you liked to take most of your clothes off and dance like a maniac.”

This video, with original JOY footage shot by Rob Cluff in August of 1995, serves as evidence.

“At JOY we got away with a lot,” agrees Jennstar. “There were no rules really back then. Warehouse parties had died and the cops were paying attention to the raves, so we skirted under the radar for quite a bit. Just a bit, but boy was it fun. JOY was a place where you could come and hear fierce music and be who you wanted to be. It was definitely a birthplace for many events and parties that followed.

JOY was named the Best Nightclub of 1995 in Toronto Life magazine. It also helped bring deeper shades of house back to gay bars.

Wulff offers this tidbit: “Colby’s opened Voodoo Lounge one year after JOY, and copied it directly.”

Matt C (left) with Jason “Deko” Steele at JOY on Hallowe’en. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

At JOY. Photo courtesy of John Wulff.

Who else played there: Jennstar’s Fridays featured many guest DJs, with a heavy Montreal lean. Frequent visitors included Luc Raymond, Christian Pronovost, and Alain Vinet, now Musical Director for Cirque du Soleil.

“The biggest international artists who played JOY for us were Deep Dish,” says Jennstar. “It’s kind of a funny story. Ashley from [promotions crew] Better Days called to ask if they could come and play the night before the [Better Days’] rave; the Deep Dish boys really wanted to get a feel for the city. I said sure, but had no real idea who they were, and we didn’t have money to pay them. They showed up and rocked the house.”

While Saturdays at JOY were mainly a showcase of Scott Cairns, guests like Montreal’s Mark Anthony and Sylvain Girard were sometimes found. Matt C also guested one Halloween, as caught on film above.

JOY also occasionally opened its doors on other nights for special events, including a House of Trance Wednesday series produced by Don Berns a.k.a. Dr. Trance.

JOY dancefloor. Photo courtesy of Scott Cairns.

What happened to it: JOY closed abruptly in early 1997.

“I had a falling out with my partners,” shares Wulff. “They changed the locks, and changed the name of the club to the Cubicle. Also, I was very tired and didn’t want to fight it. The fire department was all over us for capacity and sound issues, plus [then City Councillor] Kyle Rae was not a fan and wanted us closed.”

The Cubicle was short-lived. After it closed, 16 Phipps opened very briefly again under the name of JOY, though Wulff was not involved. According to him, the building was demolished roughly five years ago. In its place stands the 20-storey condo build on the south side of Eleven Residencies at 11 St. Joseph.

Wulff left the club business after JOY, moving into corporate branding and marketing. After recovering from serious health issues in 2011, however, he decided to “come out of retirement to do quarterly events,” beginning with a JOY reunion this Friday (June 8). Many of the JOY faithful will congregate in the rooms of Buddies In Bad Times Theatre (12 Alexander Street). Mark Falco DJs in the Cabaret, while Scott Cairns plays the main Chamber.

“I’ve been crafting the music for this night for months,” says an excited Cairns. “I’ve listened to probably a thousand records, trying to trim it down to the perfect set. I hope everyone has the best time, reuniting with friends and reliving the glory days of JOY.”

LISTEN: SCOTT LIVE at JOY mix 2

Jennstar, James St. Bass, Rommel and fellow JOY devotee Charles Pavia will host, while artists Drasko Bogdanovic and the Young Astronauts provide a wall of projections.

“With the reunion, it’s the old JOY mission: house music combined with artistic expression, through striking visuals, but on overdrive,” says Wulff. “I want to provide not only a good house-music party, but one that leaves you visually in awe.

“Also, Rommel will perform at 12:30 a.m., in something that I’ve described as her ‘Madonna Super Bowl Halftime Show.’ She’s accompanied by four clones of herself—you will die!

“I think that people are ready to have a different experience in nightclubbing,” summarizes Rommel. ”I would encourage attendees to put on their best boogie shoes, and to be as outrageous, if not courageous, in your club couture. JOY was especially known for that. Above all, I encourage everyone to just be you; that’s what JOY was and is all about.”

The post Then & Now: JOY appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.

Article originally published April 26, 2012 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

As Clubland boomed at the turn of the millennium, this beloved Queen West space provided a big-room experience in an intimate, underground atmosphere—but it ultimately became a victim of its own success.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Element Bar, 553 Queen W.

Years in operation: 1999-2004

History: In the late 1990s, Toronto’s rave and house music scenes were booming. Raves attracted audiences of multiple thousands while even licensed clubs catering to underground tastes tended to hold at least 800. The Entertainment District was littered with venues—most of them commercial and unadventurous—while the College and Ossington strips had not yet developed into hotspots for small to mid-sized venues.

In this environment, a group of friends rented a decidedly intimate space on Queen, between Spadina and Bathurst, that had been home to popular pool hall Behind the Eight Ball and, briefly, 24/7 Billiards. The address was also known for after-hours parties on its top floor, dubbed Zodiac.

Tony Mutch, Marcus Boekelman, and their silent partner Patrik Xuereb all met in high school. By their late 20s, Boekelman and Mutch had both produced parties, with Boekelman having experienced Ibiza and London and promoted events in Toronto featuring electronic dance-music stars like Paul Oakenfold.

“Tony and I would fly to N.Y.C. for the weekend just to see Danny Tenaglia spin at The Tunnel or Sasha and Digweed at Twilo,” Boekelman recalls. “It all seemed so new and fresh, with techno and house gaining in popularity. This was a very exciting time, and you really felt like something culturally important was going on that belonged to our generation.”

This all set the stage for what would become Element Bar. The goals were simple.

“We were inspired by the energy of Toronto’s rave scene and by Industry nightclub, and wanted to bring select local DJs and monthly international guests to an environment that was intimate and underground,” explains Mutch.

“We wanted to create a place where you could hear the music we loved in a more comfortable, warm environment, and legally get a drink,” says Boekelman. “I remember going to Montreal a lot at the time, and there were a few bars that perfected this model: a great night out without taking it over the top, where you could hang with your friends and dance. The bigger parties were fun, but some nights you didn’t feel like the crowds, the lineups, uncertainties, and sketchiness.

“The Element space became available, and we saw an opportunity to create a little bar-club with big-room sound.”

Element opened on December 11, 1999 and immediately drew dancers to a stretch of Queen West not generally known for house music.

Opening night at Element Bar. Crowd (above), DJ Andy Roberts (below). Photos courtesy of Tony Mutch.

Why it was important: With a total legal capacity of roughly 300 people, Element was an unpretentious and versatile two-floor venue. The bar’s intimacy would be both a key attraction and, ultimately, its downfall. Other musically related Toronto clubs of the time—from Roxy Blu to System Soundbar were thriving. Element served as a good warm-up (or comedown) spot while also a great all-night hangout for seasoned clubbers and diverse bar-hoppers alike. It also filled a niche when Industry closed just eight months after Element opened.

“The idea was not to replace Industry, but to recreate a similar vibe in a more intimate space,” recalls AnnMarie McCullough a.k.a. DJ Amtrak, a fellow high-school friend of Element’s three owners who also was one of the club’s core weekend residents throughout its history.

“I feel like Element was exactly what was needed at that time, and I remember being so grateful that it happened right when it did. Having come through the rave scene, I was glad to be among a slightly older, more mature crowd that still wanted to dance, but was there for the music.”

Opening night at Element Bar. Bartender Alison Stevens (above), DJ Sneak (below). Photos courtesy of Tony Mutch.

Painted baby blue and orange, Element had a retro-modern feel, with a circuit-board mural running the entire wall length upstairs where globe lights hung and a vintage record player greeted passersby in the window. The upstairs was spacious and chill while downstairs was dark, sweaty and pounding, thanks to a sizable system designed by Apex Sound.

“Element had two distinct personalities,” says Mutch. “The music on the main floor was usually loungey vocal house. The downstairs was another world altogether—an alter ego. It was always very dark, very loud, hot, and smoky. The music was aggressive hard house or tech house. It was full sensory overload. The wood walls and floors and low ceiling resonated like you were standing inside a speaker cabinet. Anyone would feel comfortable on the main floor, but only seasoned partiers would understand the downstairs.”

“We spent most of our budget on the sound, not the décor, because that’s what we cared about most,” adds Boekelman. “One of the things that set us apart then was our DJ-booth placement. We put the DJ right on the dancefloor, not hidden away in some other tiny room or up on a pedestal like in many other clubs. The DJ was ‘the show,’ and you could literally reach out and touch them or make eye contact and say, ‘Hi, nice mix.’

“It was amazing to see some of these DJs so up close, working at their craft, especially then when vinyl was still the best choice. Dance-music people love to watch a DJ expertly handle a mix; it’s an art form, and if they get it right you show your appreciation. I think we were a popular place to play among DJs themselves because of this interaction with the crowd.”

Element may have been small, but many big-name international talents went out of their way to play there. Booking agents would place touring DJs at Element on a Friday, and they’d play for more cash elsewhere on a Saturday. Some chose to make surprise late-night appearances for fun, after earlier sets elsewhere.

“The international talent was amazing,” says McCullough, who also had a hand in bookings. “Everyone played at Element, with surprise sets from Sasha [of Sasha and Digweed], Nick Warren, and Sneak all in the first year.”

DJ Ludikris at Element. Photo courtesy of Tony Mutch.

That said, at its core, Element was a showcase of Toronto house and techno talent. Open Wednesdays through Saturdays, with special events on Sundays, the bar featured key local residents including Andy Roberts, Kenny Glasgow, Ludikris, Gryphon, Nick Holder, Evil P, Peter and Tyrone, Angel and Cullen, and DJ Krista. I also played monthly in Element’s later years.

“Given that Toronto had an abundance of talent, it was a natural fit to promote it,” says Mutch. “We were very selective, and tried to be true to our house and tech-house format.”

Communicate flyer, courtesy of Wayne Mealing.

Among the most popular of Element’s residencies were Communicate Fridays, which ran from September 2001 until just before the club’s closing. Produced by brothers Steve and Wayne Mealing a.k.a. DJs Stretch & Hooker—then co-owners of massive rave production company LifeForce—Communicate also featured co-residents Myka and Tim Patrick.

“We were known to play it loud,” says Wayne Mealing a.k.a. Hooker. “I remember nights in the winter when the upstairs would get packed, and the front window would be a sweaty, foggy mess. We’d get carried away, blast big party tracks, and end up having a mini-rave on the first floor. It was great to be upstairs or down.”

“Communicate was a locals-driven night so we didn’t have many guests,” Mealing recalls. “However, we did have Donald Glaude play on our third week, and it was off the hook. The party was amazing on both floors.”

“That was one of the most memorable nights for me,” says Boekelman. “Donald was just killing it, and the place was rammed. People were going nuts that night, with their hands in the air. It was so hot and sweaty, it felt like it was raining in the room. I saw one girl dancing and crying and screaming and laughing all at the same time. That night was magic.”

Most of all, Communicate was a chance to hear Toronto DJs who would normally be found playing at much larger venues—like Turbo, System Soundbar and raves galore—stretch out their sounds. Mealing explains why he thinks the bar’s format worked.

“Element was special because it offered something that Toronto was short on: it was intimate, affordable, a great place to meet people as a starting point of a night, and it also usually ran to 4 a.m. Element was very welcoming—stress- and attitude-free.”

“Element was around during one of the city’s golden eras for house, and there was a lot happening in Toronto for this kind of music,” adds Dino Demopoulos, who played vocal and deep house alongside brother Terry during an earlier Friday residency. “What Element got right was a tight focus on keeping things pure, without too many frills. It was a fun little club that didn’t take itself too seriously.

“People often tell me stories about being first exposed to house music at Element,” continues Demopoulos. “Since it was a bar—at least our upstairs floor was—it was a more accessible context to get exposed to this music than a lot of other clubs in the city. Yet, despite its more mainstream appeal, we kept it very deep and pure there. That was cool; since we didn’t have to dumb it down, the energy was consistently so high.”

Element was open to all, with none of the dress code or restrictive door policies that many other dance music clubs of the time put in place to signal “maturity.”

“It wasn’t a beauty contest with a velvet rope and red carpet at the front door,” Boekelman states. “A good vibe in a club has very little to do with how people look; it’s attitude that makes the difference. There was a very diverse mix of people coming together at Element. Everyone was there for the music. My girlfriend’s dad came by for a visit one night, and spent the entire evening on the dancefloor.”

Tony Mutch, DJ Amtrak and Marcus Boekelman.
Photo courtesy of AnnMarie McCullough a.k.a. DJ Amtrak.

Who else played/worked there: Element Bar had a friendly, inviting vibe that extended beyond its size. Security was minimal, physical fights didn’t seem to happen, and the bar’s staff was instrumental to its appeal.

“Most of the staff was there for the four full years of Element,” says Mutch. “They were loyal, and gave Element a big part of its personality.”

“I remember that it was joining a family rather than just a job,” says Julian Reyes, who worked as both head bartender and manager during Element’s run. “The core group of people was there because of already established relationships, and if you were to be hired, you needed to have a genuine interest in house music. I truly believe that we welcomed people into the scene with open arms, and that energy was definitely infectious.

Other bartenders, including Alyssa Daniels, Grace Van Berkum, “Disco” Dave Fraser, Marty Smits, and Francesca Zielinski also doubled as hosts.

“I remember Element as having a real family vibe to it,” confirms Zielinski. “All the regulars and staff were connected on a personal level, and really loved the music. It wasn’t about being seen or what people were wearing; it was truly about the music.”

On that note, many other prominent T.O. DJs held it down on one, or both, of Element’s floors. On the tech tip, Fukhouse produced parties featuring DJs like Ian Guthrie, Eric Downer, and The Dukes while 2012 JUNO nominee Arthur Oskan played a live P.A. at Element in 2003.

Mark Scaife and Matt Coleridge—then infamous for their Breathe night at System—played regularly, as did established house DJ/producer Jason Hodges, and other local house talents like Mike Gleeson and Mat Lunnen. The Activate crew bumped breaks on Wednesdays during Element’s final year, with DJs including Evan G, Red Turtle, and Dave Saddler.

A little known fact is that Element was also a hip-hop haven on select nights, with DJ Fase having held down Touch Thursdays and then Sundays with co-resident DJ Hangman. In 2002, Fase and DJ Grouch even hosted Toronto’s first underground hip-hop live-to-air, with Lifted Wednedays broadcast as part of CIUT’s Project Bounce program. (Hear a Lifted set here.)

As for international guests, the extensive and impressive list also includes DJ Dan, Doc Martin, DJ Heather, Hector Romero, Josh Wink, Steve Lawler, Ellen Allien, Marco Carola, Steve Bug, Speedy J, and Detroit techno godfather Derrick May, who headlined on the August long weekend of 2001.

“After we made the booking, we were concerned about turnout because the event was on a Sunday,” recalls Mutch. “So we promoted it as free before 11 p.m.. because, ordinarily, we never had a huge turnout before then.

“On that night, the bar was packed by 11 p.m., with no door cover collected. To cover costs, we had to let more people in, but by midnight we were way over capacity, with a massive line out front. That was a red flag to the AGCO [Alcohol and Gaming Commission of Ontario] inspectors who regularly cruised down Queen Street, so they paid us a visit. That over-capacity ticket issued resulted in a 30-day license suspension. Trying to manage capacity was by far the most stressful aspect of the bar business as the penalties were so severe.”

Promoter Gavin ‘Gerbz’ Bryan (co-owner of Industry) on left, hanging at Element. Photo courtesy of Wayne Mealing.

What happened to it: That Derrick May gig was a sign of things to come.

“For me, the club simply outgrew itself,” says Boekelman, who sold his shares in November 2001, leaving Mutch as sole owner. “The brand was bigger than the space. We had constant problems with over-capacity. Many nights, more people would be turned away than actually got in, which wasn’t great for business. Looking back now, we would have done well to relocate to a larger space under the same name.”

By 2003, Element’s crowds became less consistent but the visits by AGCO became more constant. At the end of April 2004, Element’s liquor license was revoked and the bar was forced to close suddenly.

“Element closed because the AGCO would not renew the liquor license,” says Mutch. “The landlord sold the building at the same time, and the space became a clothing store.”

Though neither is now involved in nightlife ventures, Boekelman and Mutch did open resto/lounge Habitat at 735 Queen St. W. in 2002. Many of Element’s resident DJs, including Amtrak, went on to spin there.

“I think most people look back fondly on their time at Element, whether they worked or partied there,” summarizes McCullough, now based in Vancouver. “It was a great club, and I think it left its mark on Toronto’s club scene. Places like Footwork definitely emulate what Element created.”

553 Queen West is currently home to businesses including clothing store Brava on the ground floor and fitness centre Core Studio on the third.

553 Queen West in 2012

The post Then & Now: Element Bar appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.