Article originally published October 22, 2012 by The Grid online (thegridto.com).

In this edition of her Toronto-nightlife history series, Denise Benson revisits the biggest, most ambitious, and most fatally expensive nightclub the city has ever seen.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: CiRCA, 126 John St.

Years in operation: 2007-2010

History: The four-storey heritage property at 126 John St. has housed many businesses since its main structure was built in 1886. Originally, it was the site of John Burns Carriage Manufacturers, followed by other industrial-machinery companies.

By the early 2000s, the 53,000-square-foot space was an anchor for play in Toronto’s bustling Entertainment District. Mondo video arcade Playdium gave way to mega-dance club Lucid in 2004. The heavily hyped commercial club lasted only a year; its doors were locked in July 2005 when more than $400,000 in back rent was owed to landlord RioCan. (You just don’t mess with Canada’s largest retail real-estate firm.)

Enter New York City club magnate Peter Gatien. The Cornwall, Ontario native had moved to Toronto in 2003, following deportation from the United States. Gatien is, of course, one of the world’s most famous nightclub impresarios, having owned deeply imaginative and influential N.Y.C. hot spots including Limelight, Tunnel, Club USA, and Palladium during his 30-year career.

The one-time millionaire’s very public fall has been well documented in both print and film. To recap: New York police and the Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) pursued Gatien relentlessly in a 1996 federal investigation that attempted to directly link him with the sale of street drugs, particularly ecstasy, in his clubs. Gatien was acquitted, and then later arrested on tax-evasion charges, to which he pled guilty.

Once in Toronto, Gatien—later joined by wife Alessandra and their son Xander—was interested in exploring a boutique-hotel concept. He tells me during a recent phone interview that a RioCan representative approached him in a park, during a dog walk, in the fall of 2005, and requested that Gatien pay a visit to 126 John.

“I said I didn’t want to do a club, but agreed to go look at it,” he recounts. “Then I saw the space, knew there was a lot of potential, and got excited. I loved the fact that it was large, had high ceilings, and many rooms. There was the ability to have a number of different spaces and soundsystems, and cater to a real cross-section of society.

“It was the right opportunity,” Gatien summarizes, adding that his interest also lay in the fact that “Toronto has a really large creative community. There’s a lot of art here, a lot of fashion, a lot of music comes out of this city, and you need this to sustain what I like my clubs to be.”

Peter Gatien at CiRCA, still under construction, in May 2006. Photo: Charla Jones/Toronto Star.

Gatien’s enthusiasm to develop what would become CiRCA nightclub led to an initial partnership with the men of Hingson Corp, former owners of failed evening spots including Eight Below, Banzai Sushi, and Fez Batik. A 10-year lease commencing April 1, 2006 was signed, with monthly rent averaging over $135,000. Their business relationship fell apart about eight months in. While Hingson made off with the original website URL, Gatien and his team sought investors and worked to build a superclub that promised to be both spectacular and open by summer of 2006.

Litigation lawyer Ari Kulidjian, who’d advised Gatien during his split from Hingson Corp, became Gatien’s equal partner in Arena Entertainment, the new driving force behind CiRCA. Kulidjian became a co-director, shareholder, creditor and Chairman of Arena’s Board of Directors while Gatien served as co-director and president.

The pressure was on, with costs mounting. Although Kulidjian would help secure more than a dozen key investors—including financier Stephan Katmarian, who also become a co-director in Arena Entertainment—the club’s opening was delayed for more than a year. The Alcohol and Gaming Commission of Ontario (AGCO) was hesitant to grant a liquor licence. It held hearings, deferred the decision and, after finally awarding a license in July of 2007, took the unusual step of appealing its own verdict. (Courts later dismissed the appeal and ordered the ACGO to pay CiRCA damages for legal fees.) It’s thought that the City’s concerns about the Entertainment District—specifically the rowdy throngs that packed nightclubs on weekends—played a role in the hold-up.

“I don’t know if it was even so much directed at us,” ventures Gatien. “I think councillor Adam Vaughan’s plan for the area was to not have clubs and [the City] seemed to feel that if CiRCA was successful, it might keep clubs in the Entertainment District.”

Whatever the reasoning, that process and the resulting year’s delay forced Gatien and company to take out ridiculously expensive bridge financing and other loans—some at rates higher than 30 per cent—to stay afloat.

“They were paying rent and staff for more than a year, without any income,” explains Orin Bristol, a former manager at Toronto’s Limelight (no connection to Gatien’s namesake New York club) and System Soundbar who would be hired as CiRCA’s first general manager in July of 2007. “DJs, bookings, suppliers—everything had to be put on hold. Deposits were lost, and relationships were strained.”

A number of optimistic opening dates came and went, with artists including Gary Numan, DJ Tiesto, and Junior Vasquez all booked for shows that had to be cancelled. Talented staff members, like former Drake Hotel entertainment director Jeff Rogers, left before the club opened because pay wasn’t always available. Hired by Gatien to curate music and art, Rogers did manage to book an exhibit of Bruce LaBruce photos and bring event promoters A.D/D. into the fold before departing for a career in music management and television. (He’s now Music Director at AUX TV.)

Other early CiRCA team members—including New York interior designers AvroKO and Travis Bass, N.Y.C./Toronto designer and art director Kenny Baird, Kidrobot founder Paul Budnitz, event promoters Craig Pettigrew, Mario J, Eve Fiorillo, and Rolyn Chambers, and manager/promoter Steve Ireson—helped ready the club and spread the word around the city.

On Oct. 4, 2007—one-and-a-half years, over $6 million, and a whole lot of anticipation later—thousands packed CiRCA’s opening night, largely oblivious to the mad scramble behind scenes.

“We were literally bringing liquor in the back door as the front door was opening, because we had only gotten our licence, allowing us to purchase liquor, that day,” Gatien recalls. “Seeing it all come together after all of the energy and the effort from so many people was very gratifying.”

Mario J at Randomland. Photo courtesy of Eve Fiorillo.

Why it was important: “Peter’s vision brought a certain excitement that only he can bring,” says longtime DJ/producer and former co-owner of Industry Nightclub Mario Jukica, hired to promote Randomland Fridays with A.D/D. production partner Fiorillo.

“Toronto never had such a buzz about any club opening before,” he enthuses. “The climate at the time was completely stale; other clubs in the city had no forward-thinking vision, and that’s why we created such a stir. People were ready for something next-level.”

CiRCA—Gatien’s first Canadian club venture since he left for the U.S. in the late 1970s—was the largest club in the country, both in scope and size. It was also a massively innovative addition to the rapidly changing Entertainment District, by then far more known for fights and public drunkenness than cutting-edge culture.

“The important thing to me in creating a club is to recognize that we’re there for one sole purpose and it’s to create culture, whether through art, music, or fashion,” says Gatien of his impetus. “You want to be an instigator for culture, and you want to have as many creative people as possible in there, exchanging ideas and having a good time.”

At CiRCA, these exchanges took place in seven distinct spaces: the Kidrobot room, Mirror Ballroom, Washroom Bar, Fathom22 Bar, Sensacell Bar, Cinema Lounge, and the massive Main Room. Each was its own wonderland, worthy of exploration and awe. Then there was the brilliant VIP Cube (impossible not to gawk at), the art-filled entranceway, and various connecting corridors, each a trip in their own right. (Details and photos of each room, along with archived event photos and more can still be viewed on CiRCA’s website.)

“The concept was to provide a space for everyone to feel comfortable within a huge space—to build clubs within a club and create an atmosphere for a healthy mix of people to interact with each other, in and out of their comfort zones,” says CiRCA’s artistic director, Kenny Baird. “Entertainment comes from within, from strange and fun experiences, and the exchange of personalities.”

A fellow Cornwall native who grew up near Gatien and would be reacquainted with him in 1980s New York, Baird is a great talent who was largely responsible for what we saw, touched, and snapped photos of at CiRCA.

Baird’s distinctive aesthetic and impressive work history made him an ideal fit for CiRCA. His C.V. ranges from graphic layout for Toronto art collective General Idea’s File magazine to design of Toronto clubs including Charles Khabouth’s Stilife, co-designing landmark Manhattan social spaces including Area, Club USA and The Maritime Hotel, and working as production designer or art director in films, commercials, and music videos for the likes of Bowie, Nine Inch Nails, and Leonard Cohen.

He split his time between the club’s interior-design and art installations, and assembled an in-house art department—complete with its own budget, staff, workshop area, tools, and materials—to cloak the club in regularly updated themes, like “fetish,” “carny sideshow,” and “heroes and villains.”

“The attention to artistic detail and décor within the venue made CiRCA stand out from any other club that I had been to in Toronto,” offers veteran party producer Pat Boogie. He first came to the club as a patron, then worked as a marketing manager from June 2008 to June 2009. “The look of the club was constantly changing, with different themes carried throughout the space, including showcase windows in the front of the venue and in the main entrance hallway—many times complete with live models!”

CiRCA hallway featuring Kenny Baird’s art. Photo: Lucas Oleniuk/Toronto Star.

“The actual physical space was horrible,” recalls Bristol, who’d initially hesitated to work at CiRCA. “It was cavernous and looked like a shopping centre, with too many floors and winding hallways. But when you took Peter’s vision, added a whole lot of Kenny Baird’s brilliance—his mannequins in the washroom hallways are still the coolest things I’ve ever seen in a nightclub—excellent promotions, and a whole lot of hype and expectation, it became a magical kingdom. CiRCA was a giant departure from the norm.”

Gatien is clear as to why: “I learned at a very young age that it’s not a matter of having miles of neon chrome, spinning wheels, lasers, and that kind of shit. You can make that kind of exciting, but the art component and the installations [at CiRCA] were really museum-quality with the thought that went behind them. On a related note, you may not make a lot of profit from art and fashion events, but you maintain or add to your credibility with the real trendsetters and the creative community in your city.”

Just as important, Gatien recognized that, to fill his 3,000-capacity club and pay the bills, CiRCA would need to host a range of events and communities. A.D/D’s Randomland Fridays were meant to attract an edgy and diverse downtown crowd while Pettigrew and his GEM Events presented Traffic Saturdays, hugely popular with deep-pocketed suburbanites, socialites, and celebrities.

Bristol gives a revealing overview: “Saturdays were your typical hot new club crowd in Toronto. There were 3,500 to 4,000 well=dressed people, mostly 905ers, and a lot of bottle service. Booths went for $1,500 to $5,000 on a regular basis, and we had several high rollers who came through and spent obscene amounts.

“On Fridays it was a totally different story; we only did around 2,000 to 2,500 people maximum on this night, but it was amazing. The crowd was incredibly diverse: young, old, black, white, Asian, straight, gay, bi, trans, hipsters, b-boys, artsy, goths—it was nuts. The music was eclectic, and we had a nightly costume parade where you could see Gumby dancing with Raggedy Andy. The crowd seemed to not notice or care about their differences; they were there to party.”

In 2007, A.D/D was the hottest and hippest underground party-production company in town. Jukica and Fiorillo headed the post-rave electro movement in T.O., and were ready to lead their colourful crowd to a large venue.

“At Randomland, you could show up dressed as an alien or whatever you wanted, and it would be considered normal—just as I think it should be at a proper nightclub, in a healthy nightlife,” says Fiorillo. “We wanted to create a fantasy world, with characters that lived there, and have a random theme every week so that we could play with different ideas and people would always be caught off-guard.”

Along with bouncy castles, regulars who dressed in costumes, and a weekly parade of characters who “would sparkle down the two flights of escalators” in CiRCA’s main room, there was a musical mix of electro, techno, house, hip-hop, disco, and more.

“Randomland was a culmination of the past, present, and future of electronic live acts and DJs,” summarizes Jukica.

DJ Barbi and Randomland friends. Photo courtesy of Eve Fiorillo.

Fun at Randomland. Photo courtesy of Eve Fiorillo.

Random fun. Photo courtesy of Eve Fiorillo.

Randomland DJs Rynecologist (left) and Kid X. Photo by John Mitchell (http://derinkuyu.ca/).

Local DJs including Barbi, Andy Ares, Rynecologist, Filthy Gorgeous, and Kid X (a.k.a. the Gatiens’ young son Xander) played regularly in different rooms while then-rising Toronto duos Crystal Castles and Thunderheist both performed live. Most weeks boasted big names in the underground, ranging from Diplo, Cut Copy, Kavinsky, Moderat, and Simian Mobile Disco to Kevin Saunderson, ?uestlove, and DJ Premier.

Randomland also benefited heavily from the sizable gay crowd that Rolyn Chambers, a FAB magazine columnist in addition to his CiRCA duties, and Steve Ireson attracted while collaborating with fellow promoters like Matt Sims and Daniel McBride.

Promoter Matt Sims. Photo by John Mitchell.

The spacious and sexy Mirror Ballroom came to be seen as “the gay room” as Chambers and Ireson programmed local queer DJs like Mark Falco, Jamal, and Dwayne Minard and performers including Lena Love, Sofonda, and Gia.

“I once rented a scissor lift for Lena Love’s performance in the Mirror Ballroom,” recalls Chambers. “She and her 50-foot white skirt were lifted to the roof of the building. Gia’s winter performance in 2007 was also a highlight. I rented a snow machine, which created a blizzard for her show. We left it on all night and watched as people danced under the falling snow.”

Lena Love (right) in the Mirror Ballroom. Photo courtesy of Rolyn Chambers.

“The Mirror Ballroom on Friday nights was a great success,” adds Ireson. “It was always packed, and often ended up pulling adventurous people from the Main Room where Randomland was happening.”

Chambers, in fact, feels this is why he was let go from CiRCA nine months after it opened, claiming that “Eve and Mario wanted to close the Mirror Ballroom because they felt the night was becoming too gay.”

Fiorillo, writing independently of Chambers’ comment, states that A.D/D “wanted our night to be evenly mixed. Our intention wasn’t to segregate the crowd.”

For his part, Jukica most recalls the night’s overall vibe: “In Randomland, we created an intensely excited atmosphere for a generation of kids that will not be forgotten. I have just as many people come up to me to say how that was the most exciting period of their lives for clubbing as I do for Industry. If you were 19-to-25 in Toronto during Randomland, and went there, you know what I mean.”

For Traffic Saturdays, Pettigrew and his GEM team—which also included DJ/promoter Nitin Kalyan, Darren Arcane, Nikita Stanley, and others—had different goals entirely.

“We really wanted to produce a cool house-music vibe that was more like a Pacha Ibiza or LIV Miami, so it was more focussed on tables and booze,” says Pettigrew, who’d come up promoting parties at Toronto clubs including Limelight, System Soundbar, and Turbo.

James Doman (left) and Craig Pettigrew. Photo by John Mitchell (http://derinkuyu.ca/)

Pettigrew also DJed at Traffic, along with DJ/producer James Doman. Now based in Los Angeles, Doman broke out as a producer with his duo Doman & Gooding during his time at CiRCA. The video for their 2009 club smash “Runnin’” was filmed primarily in the club’s VIP areas.

Saturdays were all about living large: big crowds dancing to big room sounds, with big-name DJs frequently on deck. Traffic featured huge DJ names, including David Guetta, Tiesto, and Bob Sinclar. Pettigrew recalls two personal favourites.

“Danny Tenaglia played some marathon sets; I wouldn’t leave the club till 3 p.m. the next day! Those nights were really special. The [October 2008] Carl Cox night was insane. I’ll never forget that party because Carl really turned it out, and people were just in the mood to party. The vibe was explosive.”

Who else played/worked there: CiRCA hosted a number of concerts, many of which are talked about to this day. French duo Justice performed to a frantic Thursday-night audience, just two weeks after CiRCA opened. Lupe Fiasco, Kanye West, Pharrell Williams, Rihanna, and others all shared the stage in March 2008. Wyclef Jean performed months later. Lady Gaga’s November 2008 show was her first in Toronto.

The crowd at the October 2007 Justice show. By John Mitchell Photography (http://derinkuyu.ca/)

Crookers, DJ Sneak, and Funkmaster Flex all DJed at CiRCA. Pat Boogie also booked in deeper house DJs including Dennis Ferrer, Martinez Brothers, and FilSonik. Popular local hip-hop, R&B, and Top 40 DJ Baba Kahn held court on Thursday nights for a period (and would later be booked as the main resident at commercial night Reason Fridays, where he was joined by the likes of Pitbull).

Chambers also proudly recalls high profile arts-based events that he helped co-ordinate.

“Having Greta Constantine’s fashion show at the club was a huge coup for CiRCA. Having the first-ever Kidrobot fashion show was also a major triumph. We were able to work with 20 prominent Canadian fashion designers who designed outfits for the iconic Munny dolls. People were able to bid on them, raising money for War Child Canada.”

Project Munny fashions by Damzels in This Dress. Photo courtesy of Rolyn Chambers.

Of course, staging productions and running a proper nightclub required a small army of staff, including dozens of bartenders, waiters, bussers, and security people. Technical director Russell Edwards oversaw production details during CiRCA’s first year while Ashley MacIntyre did essential double duty as director of marketing and corporate relations.

“When I came on board eight months after CiRCA opened, it seemed like most of the kinks associated with opening a new venue had been ironed out and the team they’d assembled was working well together,” recalls Pat Boogie. “It was very exciting to be working in Canada’s largest club and among so many talented people.”

In its first year, CiRCA was the place to be. It was even recognized on the global stage—rare for a Toronto club—winning “best new club” honours at the WMC’s 2008 Club World Awards. But the cracks were starting to show.

“When I was working there, we all knew that the club was in major trouble financially,” admits Boogie. “Not only were they behind on paying many of their main in-house staff, they were also behind on paying many outside contractors. It was a very difficult and extremely stressful situation on a daily basis.”

Martinez Brothers, with Pat Boogie in background. Photo by Andre M, courtesy of Boogie.

The beginning of the end: It’s impossible to discuss CiRCA without addressing the financial troubles, variety of court cases, and competing economic and artistic priorities that ultimately led to its downfall. The fact that CiRCA opened carrying millions of dollars in debt is irrefutable. Once doors had opened, the priority was paying rent, the interest on those early loans, and for day-to-day operations. There was a swirl of rumours about who or what was paid under Gatien’s watch.

“Talk to any bartender, waiter or bus boy who was there; I never missed a payroll,” Gatien insists. “When I was there, we also never missed our withholdings to the government, we were current with our rent, all that stuff.”

“The staff was getting paid for the most part at that point,” verifies former general manager Bristol. “Sometimes it was late, but it always got paid. I was behind, but the other managers were not, and the promoters were behind.”

Arena Entertainment already owed more than $600,000 in back rent by the time CiRCA opened in October 2007 (according to a Notice of Intent and Proposal from Arena’s eventual 2010 Bankruptcy and Insolvency Act [BIA] court proceedings), but RioCan did not provide monthly specifics prior to April 2007, despite Kulidjian’s repeated requests. The landlords do not appear to have initially demanded arrears, but instead made compromises and granted credits towards CiRCA’s rent. RioCan Statement of Arrears (SOA) figures from November 2009 do indicate that CiRCA’s monthly rent was generally kept current during its first year of operations. The big troubles began in December 2008, when—according to the aforementioned SOA—rent was not paid in full, followed by no payments in both January and February 2009.

This was a time of great turmoil at the club. By late 2008, Ari Kulidjian had hired accountants to do a financial audit, ostensibly with the goal of cutting CiRCA’s costs. This not only led to a falling out between Kulidjian and Gatien over the funds devoted to the club’s art department, aesthetics, and DJ/performer fees, but also a $20 million civil lawsuit that pitted the two (and related parties) against one another. Kulidjian and Arena Entertainment accused Gatien of financial mismanagement, breach of contract, slander, and more. Gatien, in a counterclaim, filed for breach of contract and back pay. (The lawsuits were dismissed for delay in 2011.)

Things came to a head when Gatien resigned in February 2009, leaving Kulidjian and Stephan Katmarian as the remaining co-directors of Arena Entertainment Inc. In a January 2010 affidavit (from the Arena Entertainment vs. Peter Gatien, PJG Holdings Inc. and Alexandra Gatien proceedings), Kulidjian stated that Gatien had quit in response to meetings of Arena’s Board of Directors in which the Board had criticized Gatien’s “mishandling of Arena’s financial affairs.”

Gatien tells me he left CiRCA because “I was not going to be associated with something that I considered to be a sub-standard product. Long story short, I very much believe that you have to continually reinvest in your club. That’s why our art department was so extensive, our installations changed all the time, we reinvented all of the rooms, and that sort of stuff.

“My two primary partners [Kulidjian and Katmarian] saw that as a waste of money and felt that we should cash in and just become a bridge and tunnel [suburban/commercial] club. I got tired of trying to explain that if you want to last 10 or 20 years in the business, you can’t be shortsighted on your profits and try to shortchange the public. The art component of the whole club and the DJs—to do it right costs money. There’s a lot that goes on behind making a place become an institution versus a place that’s just okay.” (Ari Kulidjian rejected my requests for an interview, stating only that I should refer to the court documents related to Arena’s BIA proceedings.)

Following Gatien’s departure, things took a turn for the worse. Just weeks after, in March 2009, RioCan made a formal demand for payment of CiRCA’s full arrears, listed as $822,754.58, within seven days. A series of such demands did result in Arena, under Kulidjian and Katmarian, prioritizing monthly rent and payments towards arrears for a period. But other aspects of CiRCA suffered: the club’s art department was unceremoniously closed that month.

“I showed up for work one day and was told that I was no longer allowed on the property—not even to clear my desk of personal belongings,” says artistic director Baird, who has worked to design a number of INK-owned clubs of late, including the soon-to-open Uniun Nightclub at 473 Adelaide W., former home of Devil’s Martini.

“After a solemn promise from these investors to pay me back wages of approximately $30,000 they instead cut the art department down to the one person—someone we had hired as a costume seamstress. It was all done with the hidden agenda of catering to the lowest common denominator, thinking that the patrons wouldn’t know the difference or care.”

“After Peter left, the directors and the powers that were left over became a lot tardier with their payments,” adds Bristol. “Some people’s payments stopped totally.”

Promoters including Chambers, GEM, and A.D/D all mention promised pay that was never received.

“Peter definitely started to ring up the unpaid bills, but it really started when he left and the guys who took over thought they could run the club by not paying people at all,” offers A.D/D’s Mario Jukica. “Slowly but surely, when you don’t pay people, they start to talk. When you stop paying promoters, people stop coming.”

As a patron, it was hard not to notice that CiRCA no longer felt as magical, that damaged furniture was slow to be repaired, or that DJ and entertainment bookings dried up.

“The art and the vision were gone,” says Bristol. “The creativeness slowed and then came to a halt.”

Bristol left two months after Gatien, going to the Guvernment and taking a lot of CiRCA staff with him. (Bristol continues to work for Charles Khabouth’s INK Entertainment; today he is director of venue operations for the company.) The turnover didn’t stop there. By mid-summer 2009, A.D/D and Randomland Fridays were no longer on the roster.

“When Peter left, the life force left with him,” says Jukica.

Kenny Glasgow at CiRCA. Photo by John Mitchell (http://derinkuyu.ca/).

Jonny White (left) and Nitin at Traffic Saturdays. Photo by John Mitchell (http://derinkuyu.ca/).

“CiRCA was Peter’s vision, and with him gone it just didn’t work,” agrees Pettigrew, who ended his highly profitable Traffic Saturdays around the same time. “GEM had to move on. The new owners just didn’t get it, so we decided it was best we leave.” (Pettigrew now lives in Los Angeles and is one of the driving forces behind the fast-growing BPM Festival, held each January in Playa del Carmen, Mexico.)

CiRCA’s programming became decidedly mainstream; Top 40, hip-hop, commercial dance music and bikini competitions became common as Arena worked to draw larger crowds and income. Reams of email correspondence between Arena and RioCan paint the picture of a club in trouble.

By August 2009, contributions to monthly rent were paid only after repeated landlord requests. Court documents from Arena’s BIA proceedings include binders full of emails outlining their excuses. Two bounced cheques in September were followed by a low payment in October and zero rent paid in November. On Nov. 5, after repeated notices of default, RioCan demanded full arrears of $789,550.76 by Nov. 12.

On Nov. 11, filing under the Canadian Bankruptcy and Insolvency Act, Arena Entertainment put forward a Notice of Intention with a Proposal to restructure and modify existing arrangements with their more than 150 creditors.

This would have led to some—including Toronto oil executive Robert Salna, a primary investor who reportedly sunk more than $1.8 million into CiRCA—being paid in full over a longer period of time while other creditors would receive only a percentage of what they were owed. Multiple creditors, including RioCan and the Royal Bank of Canada, immediately opposed Arena’s Proposal, resulting in a series of related court hearings.

Many close to the club believe all this should not have been necessary.

“During CiRCA’s first year, we did $14 million of business, which is a lot in Toronto,” says Gatien. (This figure was reiterated by Bristol, although a 2010 Globe and Mail article references court filings that suggest $7 million in revenues was a more likely number.)

“That club made a lot of money,” Gatien asserts. “We actually reduced the debt by a couple of million dollars in the first year.”

Others offer figures that back up Gatien’s claim. Experienced club and restaurant owner/operator Yigal Bensadoun was brought in as CiRCA’s general manager in October 2009 by Arena’s insolvency trustee, Hans Rizarri of Soberman Chartered Accountants.

“The club was a disaster from top to bottom,” writes Bensadoun by email. “I had to hire a whole new team within the first week to rebrand CiRCA and create something exciting in a place that had already been around for two years. It was a huge challenge to make it work again.”

He states that when he started, “Sales at CiRCA were averaging $45,000 a week. The place needed to generate $75,000 per week to stay afloat.”

Bensadoun also offers that, in working with Rizarri, “we were able to bring the sales up to well over $140,000 a weekend, and were able to show profits within the first month of operations.

“What was mind boggling is that sales on Saturday nights reached over $200,000 when the club first opened, and towards the end of CiRCA, those numbers were there again.”

At Traffic Saturdays. By John Mitchell Photography (http://derinkuyu.ca/).

What happened to it: Bensadoun, who now manages INK’s This Is London nightclub, describes a damning scenario.

“Money started coming in again, and the partners started to pay close attention to where the monies were going. The owners were not interested in paying down the debt to suppliers, bank loans, and RioCan. I had a deal in place in order to pay the landlords back, but they were more interested in getting back their investments.”

A Notice of Default served by RioCan on March 12, 2010 does state that Arena owed $79,357.52 in rent for the month of March, and that they should pay by the next day or the lease could be terminated.

“At that time, I couldn’t reinvest the money into the club by trying to bring new attractions, artists, and DJs to maintain the popularity that we’d regained,” states Bensadoun. “Things could have gone differently; the club earned enough money, and then some, to keep the place alive.”

The various efforts, arguments, and court cases became irrelevant. On March 24, 2010, CiRCA declared bankruptcy. Almost $9 million was owed to creditors; bankruptcy was declared after the Royal Bank demanded repayment of a $249,000 loan.

Receivers were called in on March 24, 2010, to begin the process of distributing CiRCA’s assets, valued at just $62,004.

Those of us who marveled at the club’s existence and potential are left to wonder what could have been.

“Even though CiRCA was not a financial success, it still left its mark on this city, and raised the bar for creativity, originality and style in a ‘super club,” says Pat Boogie. “It also brought an element of musical and artistic variety not seen on this level in Toronto.”

“CiRCA showed me what the next level of nightlife should be,” adds Bristol. “You always hear people saying that people, things, or products were ahead of their time; CiRCA actually was.”

“I was very proud of CiRCA,” says Gatien. “I was very proud of the staff and what we accomplished under very difficult circumstances. Had CiRCA not had the internal problems that we had, and I had been left to run it the way it was meant to be run, it would still be going gangbusters today.”

These days, Gatien is at work on developing a television series. (“It’s basically an Entourage-slash-Sex and the City period piece set in ’90s New York.”) He also helped finance the 2011 documentary Limelight, which focusses heavily on that club’s rise and fall and the court cases brought against him. I highly recommend a viewing.

Though he’s more likely to open a boutique hotel than he is another nightclub in Toronto, Gatien does still believe that a similarly grand superclub could succeed downtown.

“You need a lot of components to work at the same time, but if the right situation presented itself, Toronto’s market is more than adequate to sustain anything that any other large city can. You’ve got a large creative community, a lot of hip people; it may not have the joie de vivre that Montreal has, but it’s certainly not a one-horse town.”

As for 126 John Street itself, it’s again changing with the neighbourhood. A two-floor Marshalls department store opened there last Thursday.

126 John Street becomes a Marshalls. Photo by Denise Benson.

Thank you to Craig Pettigrew, Eve Fiorillo, Jeff Rogers, John Mitchell, Kenny Baird, Mario Jukica, Orin Bristol, Pat Boogie, Peter Gatien, Rolyn Chambers, Steve Ireson, Yigal Bensadoun, and Stuart Berman.

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

Article originally published September 24, 2012 by The Grid online (thegridto.com).

360 Adelaide St. W. has had many incarnations over its 90-year-plus existence, but it is best remembered as the home of Toronto’s burgeoning drum ‘n’ bass scene in the early 2000s.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Turbo Niteclub, 360 Adelaide W.

Years in operation: 2000-2003

History: Built around 1920, the six-storey red brick office building at 360 Adelaide St. W. has been home to multiple dance clubs, many of them owned and operated by Vincent Donohoe. He’d opened Top 40 venue Denile at the address in 1997, a time when the Entertainment District was synonymous with nightclubs, but Donohoe was no newbie. He’d already helped finance Charles Khabouth’s first two clubs in the 1980s—Club Z at 11A St. Joseph and Stilife on Richmond—and run other businesses.

“Although Charles Khabouth never seems to want to let people know, I was a full partner in Club Z and the money behind Stilife,” writes Donohoe in an email. “He was broke when I met him, and at one time I owned two thirds of Club Z. I also helped put together Orchid Nightclub [on Richmond Street], and was general manager for their first three years, until I built Denile.”

Donohoe’s one-floor Denile later morphed into Jet Nightclub, a hybrid venue that held successful commercial nights, and was regularly rented out by rave production companies like Ritual, Empire, and Lifeforce Industries for much more underground, after-hours events.

By 1999, Lifeforce—Toronto’s largest rave production company and the umbrella organization behind the Dose, Syrous, and Renegades brands—was under intense scrutiny as the City, police, and media cracked down on late-night parties. Toronto’s once enormous rave scene was dwindling, the crowds maturing, and events had moved increasingly to licensed nightclubs like Industry.

The young entrepreneurs behind Lifeforce—Rob Lisi, brothers Steve and Wayne Mealing (a.k.a. DJs Stretch & Hooker), Tyler Cho, and Aaron Micks—recognized it was time to flip the script.

Aaron Micks from Lifeforce. Photo by Jay Futronic.

“The motivation for opening our own club was mostly driven by the political pressure from the city, and increased costs at the raves,” explains Lisi. “At that time, there was a lot of negative attention on the rave scene, and finding a new home to place all the DJs we were booking was the number-one priority. Lifeforce was the biggest target for city officials and it just wasn’t feasible at that time to run the larger parties. Venue-capacity numbers were being reduced, paid-duty officer requirements were going up, and other costs were going through the roof. Moving into the clubs was the logical next step.”

“We were not actively looking to lease a property or build a club from the ground up because we were so busy,” adds Wayne Mealing a.k.a. DJ Hooker. “However, Lifeforce did an event at Jet in summer of 1999 that was the busiest night they had ever had. When Rob and I went to settle the event the next week, the owners approached us with the idea of partnering up, and us eventually buying them out to take over the lease.”

“For us, it was the right place at the right time, especially at a time when Industry, still my favourite club, was closing,” says Lisi.

Donohoe gives due credit: “Lifeforce showed a new way of entertaining that I had missed with Jet and Denile; they showed me how the late-night scene was so alive.”

A deal was struck that split the business three ways between Donohoe, his silent partner, and the men of Lifeforce, with the two original owners maintaining responsibility for day-to-day operations and the late-night lads taking on programming, promotion, and the sound and lighting design.

In very little time, Jet was renovated into a much larger, darker concrete whole. The ground floor became a huge rectangular room with multiple bars, a raised VIP area, decent décor, and a massive DJ booth at the back. The sizable basement had less frills and little lighting. Legal capacity doubled from 900 to 1,800 people, making it by far one of the largest clubs in the area. Most significantly, the Lifeforce crew had a state-of-the-art Turbosound system installed.

Turbo Niteclub opened in April of 2000.

Why it was important: “I think what made the space work as Turbo was the excellent promoting and booking talents of the Lifeforce crew on Fridays,” says Alex Dordevic, publisher of the defunct but influential TRIBE magazine and its still very active message boards.

“These guys cut their teeth throwing some of the earliest rave events in the city, and consistently threw the largest raves in Toronto, culminating with that massive Freakin’ event at Polson Street that set the record for the largest rave ever thrown here,” Dordevic says. “They had a great following, and a lot of friends and music connections because of the rave promoting, as well as a great love of the music. Turbo was their first experiment into transitioning from throwing one-off rave events to doing a large regular nightclub.”

“The timing of Turbo was perfect,” says Steve Mealing, a.k.a. DJ Stretch. “Our goal was to provide a top-quality sound system and an underground feel on a weekly basis. The talent pool and availability was outgrowing how many events we could do with the standard or quality we were producing. Turbo was a place to cultivate local talent, and showcase the arts where it fit in. The quality of talent in Toronto at the time made it that much easier to do.”

Steve Mealing, a.k.a. Stretch. Photo by Jay Futronic.

But first there was the matter of moving a great number of locals—and their followers—over from the nearby System Soundbar. System had opened a year earlier, and was already attracting huge post-raver crowds, largely thanks to the Lifeforce crew’s popular Friday night and FungleJunk Tuesdays there. As documented in a Then & Now story about System, Lifeforce brought both nights and System’s Saturday night crew of promoter Craig Pettigrew and DJs John E and Myka over to Turbo.

“Although we were really happy at System Soundbar, the thought of having input into all aspects of a club’s identity, music policy, sound, feel, layout, and staff was too much for us not to do it,” explains Wayne Mealing.

The Turbo Fridays concept was to feature the Dose take on house, techno, and underground party music upstairs—with resident DJs Stretch & Hooker and Tim Patrick—and the drum ‘n’ bass and jungle associated with Syrous/Renegades and the Vinyl Syndicate DJ crew downstairs. Fridays launched on April 15, 2000, with guests Donald Glaude and DJ Zinc.

Donald Glaude turns out Turbo. Photo by Jay Futronic.

The Turbo Fridays crowd gives it up for Donald Glaude. Photo by Jay Futronic.

DJ Sneak guested the next night at the launch of Drul Saturdays, playing alongside residents Myka and John E. Competing for the same crowds as System and The Guvernment, Drul never fully gained traction. Promoters Jennstar and Gairy Brown—long associated with Industry Niteclub—were hired in September of 2000 to launch Giant Saturdays, aimed at a more mature house crowd. Residents Myka and Carlos Fuerte played alongside international guests including John Acquaviva, DJ Dove, and Satoshi Tomiie.

Lifeforce Fridays proved to be immediately popular, however.

“The main room was rammed with a lively and very engaged crowd every week, so the vibe was incredible,” says Tim Patrick, who had also played at System, Industry, and large raves, and had toured regularly across North America by the time he played Turbo. “Every Friday was epic.”

Tim Patrick and Myka. Photo by Jay Futronic.

“Fridays attracted an interesting mix of house and techno heads with a splash of artsy professionals,” recalls Steve Mealing. “There was no attitude, no music snobs—just people open to new sounds and the staple classics. Without a doubt, the party people who supported Turbo from day one directly reflected how educated the Toronto scene really was at that time. Everyone came for the people and the music, not to peacock around.”

Upstairs on Fridays, touring artists like Misstress Barbra, Barry Weaver, Terry Mullan, Dave Clarke, and Bad Boy Bill could be found in the booth. Britain’s Carl Cox notoriously melted the crowd on Turbo’s first anniversary.

Steve Mealing recalls some other favourite Friday nights: “Darren Emerson from Underworld destroyed the place one night; it was rammed to the entrance, and the crowd was beyond up for it. There was also the night that DJ Dan’s records were lost by the airline. The club was thick with energy so he offered to play our records, and played back-to-back with us for six hours. Amazing.”

“I loved playing at Turbo,” says brother Wayne. “I feel like Stretch & Hooker grew up as DJs at System, and crafted the art at Turbo.”

Tim Patrick—who later moved to Croatia, now resides in Prague, and tours Europe constantly—feels the same.

“It was an incredible opportunity for me to really get to work on such a powerful set-up that was created with the DJ in mind. I was able to open for some very big guests and, on some nights, play nice, long extended sets. I was granted the ability to develop my sound at Turbo, on my terms, and I am incredibly thankful for that.”

Mike. Photo by Jay Futronic,

More than anything though, Turbo is remembered as a key hub for Toronto’s drum ‘n’ bass scene—at that time, one of the largest in the world.

“Although the d’n’b room was smaller, with lesser sound and had its quirks, some of the best parties at Turbo were downstairs,” offers Wayne Mealing.

“Turbo was the first time we had major club to call home for d’n’b,” says Brad Leonard a.k.a. DJ Lush, a former resident at Turbo’s Syrous Sessions Fridays, FungleJunk Tuesdays, and also heard at all the big parties of the time.

“In the hardcore days, we had 23 Hop; in the jungle days, we had the Tunnel, and then after that ended it was five years till we, as a scene, landed in Turbo. You have to remember the drum ‘n’ bass scene had always just been on its own. We never got the press, and we were always relegated to ‘second rooms.’

“Turbo was a chance to independently do our own thing and the d’n’b scene at that time was just thriving—there were so many people into the music. The crowd was so knowledgeable; they really responded to new tunes and good mixing. Many tunes that went on to be these genre-defining classic anthems, we played or heard there first.”

“The basement at Turbo on Fridays was a testing ground for all the new tunes and dubs,” agrees Pat Brodeur a.k.a. Mystical Influence, one of the most ubiquitous Toronto drum ‘n’ bass DJ/producers of all time. “If it worked in that room on Friday, you could pretty much guarantee that you would hear it everywhere for the next month.”

Video by Sensory Transduction. Features Mystical Influence and Sniper at FungleJunk, May 2000 and more.

Brodeur—who also headed up the d’n’b section at influential record shop Eastern Bloc and ran both Vinyl Syndicate Recordings and Fully Loaded Distribution, among other projects, with his brother Chris, a.k.a. DJ Sniper—was heavily involved in the bookings for both the Syrous Sessions and the all-ages FungleJunk Tuesdays.

Mystical, Sniper, and Marcus Visionary were key residents at both nights, rotating with Lush, Unknown Souljah, Everfresh, Prime, Slip & Slide, Dominik, and Illfingas, and MCs including L Natural, Caddy Cad, and JD. But the talent didn’t stop there.

“We tried to get everyone in to play, including guys who had never played anywhere,” says Brodeur. He booked early appearances by locals including Ruckus, Capital J, Spinz, Gremlinz, and Mr. Brown. “If you brought your demo tape to E-Bloc and I thought it was decent, you got a slot.”

“Basically anybody who hung around Eastern Bloc long enough would get a chance to play,” confirms Leonard. “If Turbo was the party hub of the d’n’b scene, Eastern Bloc was where you rubbed shoulders with the DJs and got to know who the serious guys were. It was the essential meeting place at that time.”

DJ Zinc with T.O. junglists. Photo by alexd at TRIBE http://www.tribemagazine.com.

Resident junglists Tragedy, Marcus Visionary, JD, Mystical Influence, Prime, and Lush. Photo courtesy of Lush.

Both Syrous Sessions and FungleJunk featured a steady stream of top international guests as well, including DJ Hype, Zinc, DJ Rap, Aphrodite, Randall, Dieselboy, MC Dynamite, and Andy C.

“Andy C had some unbelievable sets in there over its time,” enthuses Leonard. “He owned that place, and would leave people in awe. All the major players came through there at one point or another.”

Andy C’s set recorded live at Turbo in September of 2001 can be downloaded at the Toronto Rave Mixtape Archive website (in two parts), where live Turbo sets from the likes of Bad Company, Marcus Intalex, and Mickey Finn can also be found.

“We were spoiled at that time,” agrees Marcus Sills a.k.a. DJ/producer Marcus Visionary, a Turbo resident, rave mainstay, and prominent Toronto talent who produces and tours the globe to this day. “The d’n’b nights had crowds who were very serious about the music. It was a really amazing time to be playing in the city.

“Turbo also gave us a place to develop. Many DJs learned to become better in that basement. I most definitely learned a lot about controlling a rig, and a crowd, from playing there. There was no hiding your skills when playing on that rig.”

Turbo’s notoriously loud basement. Photo by alexd at TRIBE (http://www.tribemagazine.com).

The sound in Turbo’s basement was notoriously loud, and could be painful if DJs didn’t know how to balance the system’s high and low ends. Still, the drum ‘n’ bass crowds were often Turbo’s bread and butter as System Soundbar began to compete again for house and tech fans.

In August of 2001, Lifeforce Fridays came to an end, and the men of Lifeforce Industries pulled out as partners. The Renegades/Syrous Sessions wrapped three months later.

“Lifeforce had the largest raves, and some of the biggest talent; however, that model didn’t translate to a club setting easily,” says Brodeur, now based in Denver where he’s long held multiple DJ residencies.

“The big DJ wages didn’t get smaller in a smaller venue, so you were paying the same [to attract] less people. Add in the guest list—everybody was friends—ladies free, all the free drinks, and so on, and all of a sudden it’s a lot harder to make money.”

Rob Lisi, now based in Switzerland, further elaborates: “Why did we leave? I think we all have different reasons, but the easy answer is that we were losing money. At that time, Toronto wasn’t ready for three or four after-hours clubs, and we didn’t have the deepest pockets. There was also some pressure at that time from our partners to change the format on Saturdays back to R&B and mainstream, and we just didn’t want any part of it. We had to walk away from our investment, but we also walked away from all the headaches that ensued.”

The Lifeforce crew went on to different projects. Lisi helmed Benson & Hedges’ Goldclub sponsorship series, taking artists like Danny Tenaglia, Deep Dish, Tiesto, Paul Oakenfold, and Richie Hawtin to clubs across Canada. The brothers Mealing—later joined by Cho and Micks—began to develop a large-scale tour project, dubbed Mekka, that never came to fruition. That September, Stretch & Hooker also launched Communicate Fridays with co-residents Tim Patrick and Myka at Element Bar.

Vincent Donohoe continued to operate Turbo, and brought in promoters including Charles Lewis and Jesse Brown.

Czech spins at Lifeforce Fridays’ closing night. Photo by Jay Futronic.

Who else played there: The Turbo story, of course, extends beyond the weekend nights and FungleJunk Tuesdays. If you were going out to parties at the time, you’d also find street teams flyering the city for events at Turbo featuring prominent touring DJs including Jeff Mills, Roger S, and Richie Hawtin, who performed at Blu’s fifth anniversary in November 2001.

“That was one of the most memorable one-off events for me,” says Wayne Mealing. “I remember talking to the doormen at System Soundbar that night and they could clearly hear Richie’s set from Turbo at their front door. That was the clearest and loudest the sound system ever was; Richie tuned it himself, and clearly knew how to optimize the system for his sound.”

Laurent Garnier. Photo by alexd at TRIBE (http://www.tribemagazine.com).

A year earlier, Alex Dordevic marked the seventh anniversary of TRIBE magazine with a party at Turbo that featured a live performance by Laurent Garnier and band. People lined up for blocks—all the way west to Spadina—and later wrote rave reviews.

Local talents like Josh Obront, a.k.a. DJ/producer Jelo, worked overtime to land guest gigs at Turbo. Obront, who also worked at the Eastern Bloc record shop, was notorious for his popular series of mixtapes, and he put special effort into creating a high-BPM blend for the Turbo set. (Download Side A here and Side B here).

“I worked my ass off on that thing,” recalls Obront. “The tape was successful as hell, but still I wasn’t offered more shows than the dozen or so I did play.”

Obront was especially a fan of Turbo’s large, concrete DJ booth—“the concrete allowed me to dance my ass off while playing vinyl and not induce one skip”—and its other extremes. “At Turbo, there was never enough seating or places to get away from the music for a moment. You were either in or you were out—like, ‘Take this music and swallow it, stand up, dance, drink.’ That’s it.”

Jelo played at the club while the Lifeforce crew was involved and after they’d left. The junglists also maintained ties to the club, with Friday nights featuring drum ‘n’ bass upstairs and breaks downstairs for a stretch. Lots of d’n’b promoters continued to hold special events at Turbo, including Marcus Visionary, who hosted a number of Junglist Movement parties there.

“One of my standout memories was having a sold-out Junglist Movement event with Shy FX DJing upstairs,” Marcus recounts. “This was the first time I met him, and we became good friends. Eventually, I was signed to his Digital Soundboy record label.”

Turbo bar staff. Photo by Jay Futronic.

As for Turbo’s Saturday nights post-Lifeforce, Jennstar’s Giant ended and the night was generally rented out to promoters of mainstream events. A shooting at the club in October of 2002 did not help the club’s increasingly shaky reputation, but did result in the addition of metal detectors and a lawsuit against the police by a frustrated Donohoe.

“As we found out later, this was part of an undercover operation by the Toronto Police looking into individuals who had robbed a gun store a month earlier, and had killed the owner,” Donohoe explains. “They knew that this individual was coming to Turbo that night, but did not try to stop him as they were looking for more clues on the previous crime. He was wire-tapped, and I even have the transcript to this day. I sued, but got nowhere and dropped the case in 2007 after I had retired.” (Further details are documented in a Toronto Star story archived here.)

Turbo regulars gather at the final edition of Lifeforce Fridays. Photo by Jay Futronic.

What happened to it: “When Lifeforce moved on, it seems that the electronic era had taken a turn to smaller venues,” says Donohoe. “I tried to still do the big events, but [the audience] was not there. Also, I did not have the marketing skills of Lifeforce around me. I give those boys a lot of credit for our success.”

Donohoe certainly did give it a go, though. In late 2002, he rebranded Turbo’s lower level as Klinik, and booked in a range of underground hip-hop, breaks, drum ‘n’ bass, house, and techno events. Turbo upstairs also became a rental club.

Early in 2003, Donohoe renovated and re-opened 360 Adelaide St. W. as another underground dance=music venue: Sound Emporium upstairs, with Klinik below. Both floors were special event–driven. Patrons entered by walking down an alleyway and into a back door that led to the lower level.

The address took on yet another identity late in 2005, when Donohoe partnered with the people formerly involved in Spadina street after-hours club Boa Redux. A small number of events were produced on Adelaide under the Boa banner.

“I think a lot of the problem was that it had too many reincarnations,” summarizes Alex Dordevic. “You can only rebrand an address so many times, I reckon. Even the best promoters and DJs still have to battle against the previous karma to make it work.”

Donohoe closed Sound Emporium/Boa Redux early in 2006, and retired from the club business.

360 Adelaide St. W. now blends into its environment. The building sits surrounded by office buildings, condos and condo towers in the making.

Thank you to Alex Dordevic, Brad Leonard, Josh Obront, Marcus Sills, Pat Brodeur, Rob Lisi, Steve Mealing, Tim Patrick, Vincent Donohoe, and Wayne Mealing for participating, as well as to Jay Futronic, Jennstar, Ryan Smith, and TorontoRaveMixtapeArchive.com.

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

Article originally published July 27, 2012 by The Grid online (thegridto.com).

As the Entertainment District grew more sophisticated in the 1990s, this proudly shabby and unpretentious nightclub drew crowds by the thousands each week to a sleepy stretch of Adelaide.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Limelight, 250 Adelaide St. W.

Years in operation: 1993-2003

History: Before the Entertainment District became synonymous with dance clubs, the well-worn brick building at 250 Adelaide St. W. was home to businesses including a print shop and Old Favorites Books.

Located near the corner of Duncan, the building was spotted by businessman Zisi Konstantinou, who saw its potential as a club space. Richmond Street east of Spadina was already attracting large weekend crowds in the early 1990s, thanks to venues like Charles Khabouth’s pioneering Stilife and the Ballinger brothers’ hotspot Go-Go, which later became Whiskey Saigon. Adelaide east of Spadina was not yet a dancer’s destination.

Konstantinou’s next smart move was to hire Boris Khaimovich as general manager of his club-to-be. Khaimovich—who’d worked the door and managed at Toronto clubs including The Copa, Boom Boom Room, and Go-Go, brought his vision to the project—and was Limelight’s guiding light for eight of its 10 years.

Boris Khaimovich (left) and Zisi Konstantinou at Limelight. Photo © by Steven Lungley. All rights reserved.

“Zisi hadn’t owned a club before,” explains Khaimovich over the phone from his Port Hope home. “His dad had a strip club in Cambridge, but Zisi didn’t yet know much about the nightclub business. I came out of Ballinger organizations where you very much speak your mind because, if you don’t, you’ll just get eaten—because those guys see through bullshit.

“I came in to meet with Zisi about six weeks before the club opened. He told me what he wanted to do, and I said, ‘The concept you have just won’t work.’ Everybody who opens up a club for their first time thinks they’ve just reinvented the wheel. So their club is going to be for high-end crowds, with a dress code, with a $20 cover charge for people to come in. I said, ‘Let’s not do that. Let’s not be silly.’ My argument has always been that I’d rather take a little bit of money for a long time than take a lot of money in the short term.”

Khaimovich got it right. Limelight opened on March 10, 1993 and the crowds grew steadily over its first year. The club’s dress code was dropped during that time, cover charge and drinks were deliberately affordable, and staff was hired to reflect the fact that Limelight had no pretensions of being anything other than a fun, friendly social spot.

“I didn’t want to be a shooting star and just come and go quickly,” Khaimovich stresses. “I never wanted to be the coolest club—I’d seen what happened to Go-Go. The entire mentality behind Limelight was to be like a comfortable pair of jeans.”

Photo courtesy of James Vandervoort.

Why it was important: Limelight’s attitude-free “Give the customer what they want” approach brought tens of thousands annually through its huge metallic, garage-door façade.

“Those garage doors were fake,” chuckles Khaimovich about the famous entranceway. “Zisi bought everything at auctions so whatever he bought, we had to find a way to make it fit. He must have gotten a deal on galvanized siding so we put [the doors] up on the outside of the bottom two floors of the club. He found toilets at yard sales and auctions too, so we always had mismatched toilets.”

Aesthetically, Limelight was the antithesis of slick. The club’s two levels—initially there was a dancefloor level and balcony overlooking it—were painted with blues, reds and greens, and featured a whole lot of stools and wood banquettes upholstered in black vinyl. Enormous murals painted by artist Marc Sorozan were black-lit for a 3-D effect. Wearing black clothing at Limelight meant every bit of lint you carried would be revealed.

The club also boasted “the biggest mirror ball in the city at that time,” according to Khaimovich. It nicely complemented Limelight’s advanced, intelligent lighting system and thundering, crystal-clear sound.

Boxer Donovan Boucher (at back) and friends at opening night. Photo by Steven Lungley. All rights reserved.

Part of Limelight’s appeal was its size. With an initial legal capacity of 650 people—1,100 after the club expanded to three floors and added its popular rooftop patio—you could always find a spot to call your own, even as the crowds grew larger than the club could allow.

“During our peak years—say years three, four and five—we were the third volume beer seller in Ontario,” says Khaimovich. “The only places that were ahead of us were SkyDome and Maple Leaf Gardens.”

During these years, Limelight operated six nights per week, with a popular fetish party run monthly on Tuesdays by Boris and Madame X bringing the club’s total to an exhausting 28 open nights monthly. The programming was wildly eclectic, ranging from commercial weekends and meat-market university nights to rock, rave, retro. and gay weeklies.

Peter the Greek (left) with Craig Pettigrew (right) and friend.
Photo courtesy of Pettigrew.

Konstantinou brought in Peter Ivals a.k.a. Peter the Greek—a club and rave mainstay who also DJed within Greek-community party circles—to anchor the high-energy Saturday nights, which he did for Limelight’s entire duration. Khaimovich booked DJ James St. Bass, a known talent from Boom Boom Room, Go-Go, and OZ to hold down Friday nights.

“Of all the club residencies I ever had, Limelight was the most challenging to play,” the man also known as James Vandervoort tells me. “The owner was pretty picky about who he wanted in the club, so it was very geared to commercial dance music on weekends. At the time, that meant Euro-dance as well as popular house: think Snap!, Haddaway, Culture Beat, and Ace of Base. I didn’t care for this sound personally, but the crowd loved it.”

Vandervoort recalls playing favourites like Jam & Spoon’s “Right in the Night” alongside whatever disco, underground house, rock, rave, and Prince he could get away with.

“I was there to entertain, and make people dance,” says Vandervoort. “And I did. It was worth it for the sound system and the hard-partying people. The energy in Limelight could be extraordinary. Fridays were very successful; I would show up to open at 9 p.m. and the crowd would be lined up down the street.”

In addition to DJing Fridays for Limelight’s first two years, Vandervoort held down a number of other roles at the club. Conveniently, he lived in a studio space across the street—“so I’d get a busboy to help me carry crates home”—and could easily slip over to bartend or DJ on various nights, including the gay Wednesdays promoted by Eric Robertson during Limelight’s first year.

Limelight promo image courtesy of Eric Robertson.

“The format was different from a regular club night, and completely different for the gay scene,” recalls Robertson by email. “It was more like a weekly rave. All the best DJs wanted to play.”

It helped that Robertson had connections in both worlds. He’d go-go danced at popular boy weeklies in venues like Boom Boom, Go-Go, and The Phoenix, had thrown underground parties at spots including the Sears Warehouse, and worked with people including Don Berns a.k.a. Dr. Trance and Claudio from Pleasure Force and Atlantis to produce a range of raves.

His Wednesday weekly featured an impressive array of DJs, including St. Bass, Dr. Trance, Alx of London, Dino and Terry, David Cooper, Matt C, Mitch Winthrop, Barry Harris, John E, and Deko-ze.

“It was the mix of DJs that really made it work,” says Robertson. “The rave scene was peaking and the gay clubs were not very exciting. Ravers appreciated a nice club. Gays love a good sound system. Win-win. I loved the mix of the glow-stick kids and men with their shirts off!”

The night eventually gave way to PURE Wednesdays (more on this to come), but helped establish Limelight as far more than a typical commercial club. Also to that end, DJ Iain’s Childhood’s End Sundays—later re-branded as Primal Vision—was a signature night that ran for a full seven years.

Flyer courtesy of Erin O’Connor.

Iain McPherson is one of this city’s great pioneering forces in the meeting of alternative, industrial, and electronic sounds. Though he held down weekly residencies for the better part of two decades at clubs including Nuts & Bolts, The Copa, OZ, Catch 22, Lizard Lounge, and Empire Dancebar, McPherson never got stuck in a rut. He always looked forward and mixed beautifully between new wave, new beat, synth-pop, industrial, techno, Manchester indie-dance, hip-hop, and more. Sundays at Limelight was his final DJ residency, and the one at which he played most across-the-board.

“I was once told by a fellow DJ, Terry ‘TK’ Kelly, that I had been able to carve out a unique space for myself because I had one foot in the guitar world and another in that of the disco,” says McPherson. “Such diversity has become quite commonplace now, but I don’t think there were that many jocks doing so back then. Nights were either Top 40 or pretty heavily themed.

“Sundays at Limelight attracted one of the most diverse, open-minded crowds musically that I have experienced. They would happily get down to any of Ministry, White Zombie, Prodigy, The Orb, Primal Scream, Massive Attack, or Bjork. If we got them really wound-up, they would body surf to Metallica, and then I could pull a complete left turn and drop Tom Jones’ ‘It’s Not Unusual‘ or Leo Sayers’ ‘You Make Me Feel Like Dancing.’ They were so much fun to play for!”

Photo © by Steven Lungley. All rights reserved.

Sundays also grew from initial audiences of 100 to 1,500 or more on long weekends, thanks to the promotional efforts of James Kekanovich. Today’s promoters, who may just rely too heavily on Facebook and social media, should take note.

“As Iain’s promoter, over the years I distributed approximately one million invitations for Sundays at Limelight, with most of these extended on a face-to-face basis at concerts and raves,” says Kekanovich, also sharing a favourite Limelight memory.

“As Iain and I are Star Trek fans, an especially memorable moment was when Michael Dorn, otherwise know as Worf, attended a night. I was at the front door greeting people and he came up to ask if he could use the washroom. Of course, I let him in. Like commanding the Enterprise, Iain directed the night from the DJ booth, Worf was in the crowd, observing the Sunday-night dance rituals. Sunday nights at Limelight were an adventure, boldly going where no club night had gone before.”

Dancers at PURE Wednesdays. Photo courtesy of Jay Futronic.

Who else played/worked there: Limelight was an unlikely bridge over which many a maturing raver ventured into a licensed nightclub. Their transition was, in particular, eased by the highly successful PURE Wednesdays produced by DJs John E and Peter Ivals with DJ/promoter Craig Pettigrew. Beginning in the summer of 1996, PURE ran for four years, with fellow core residents including Myka, Bianchi, Mystical Influence, Sniper, and Big League Chu. House was heard on the main floor, classic house on the second while from the rooftop patio boomed jungle and breaks.

“I noticed the crowds getting older and wanted to bring that rave vibe into a club where you could have a few drinks and listen to great music,” says John E, who produced and played at many of this city’s largest raves as a co-founder of Pleasure Force and a heavily booked DJ. “At one point, it was PURE and Industry holding down the club scene. I think we opened the door for promoters to bring that music into the clubs.

“The start of PURE was slow, but the owner and manager were patient. We hit our stride during the second summer. It was off the hook, with line-ups down to the fire station.”

“The community really embraced us, and came out to not only listen to great music, but to socialize,” adds Pettigrew, who also handed out thousands of flyers in his day. “I think we had a great run largely because we never made the night about the guest DJs—we really focussed on what talent was in Toronto. ”

Adam Freeland DJs at PURE Wednesdays. Photo courtesy of Jay Futronic.

PURE talent was plentiful, with local guests including Nathan Barato, Kenny Glasgow, Jason Palma, Addy, Matt C, Nick Holder, Peter and Tyrone, The Stickmen, and Paranoid Jack.

That said, many global names also graced the night’s booths, with mention made of Adam Freeland, Donald Glaude, DJ Czech, John Acquaviva, DJ Dan, Hipp-E, and Anne Savage.

“We loved Lafleche from Sona Montreal—he always threw down some amazing music and was a crowd favorite,” says Pettigrew. “So many great people played, but I always loved it when John E would get the prime slot. He had an amazing way of playing tracks at the right time, and getting the crowd to explode.”

Limelight was successful for reasons beyond its music. At its heart was also a diverse staff, many of whom would go on to careers in the nightlife industry. Orin Bristol worked as head of security and then assistant manager before going on to run the show at System Soundbar and now works for INK Entertainment. Brothers Michel and Daniel Quintas were long-serving bartenders. (Quintas now owns Annex staple Insomnia Café.)

Bartender Dede Gilser is frequently mentioned, both for being “super friendly and drop-dead gorgeous,” as McPherson says.

Popular Limelight bartender Dede Gilser. Photo courtesy of her.

“I have a lot of great memories of Sunday nights when DJ Iain played, which is surprising due to the amount of JD I consumed at the time,” says Gilser, who worked at Limelight for five years.

“One of my favourite groups of regulars on Sundays featured one sweet kid who, with great regularity, would slam-dance himself into a nose bleed. I’d grab a fresh bar rag with some cool water and wash his face off. It was strangely endearing.

“Also, my very last night at Limelight was a Sunday. Unlike the normal scenario of customer weeping to the bartender, I wept like someone stabbed me.”

PURE Wednesdays flyers courtesy of Craig Pettigrew.

What happened to it: The spirit of Limelight slowly sunk as key people left over time. DJ Iain played his last gig ever on the final Sunday of 1999—cheered on by hundreds of regulars and fêted with a cake, speeches, and sparklers.

Khaimovich, who’d only ever taken two vacations during his eight years, departed in 2001, going on to co-own Insomnia Café with Quintas, consult for a number of downtown clubs and, eventually, open Maple Crescent Farm, where he lives with his children and wife, Kendra Batek.

“She was a shooter girl at Limelight,” says Khaimovich. “Fifteen years later, she’s my boss.”

Many say Limelight lost its spark after Khaimovich’s departure. Rob Marchand and then Arthur Geringas would become managers, but by then owner Konstantinou had turned his attention to other projects, including System Soundbar and the building in which it was housed, all of which he owned.

Limelight closed its doors on January 18, 2003. It was later developed into a club dubbed Afterlife. Today, it is the home of London Tap House where, ironically, Boris Khaimovich works the door on weekends.

James Vandervoort, who has a professional daytime career, has returned to DJing as James St. Bass on occasion.

John E also continues to DJ select dates. He’ll play as part of the Toronto Legends series, alongside Paul Walker, Goldfinger, and Keith Young, at Parlour (270 Adelaide St. W.) on Aug. 24.

Craig Pettigrew is a driving force at both GEM Events and the annual BPM Festival—of which he is a co-founder—in Playa del Carmen, Mexico. Pettigrew recently re-located to Los Angeles where he is set to open underground club Sound come September. His latest production, “No Crash,” sees release on Younan Music at month’s end.

Thank you to Boris Khaimovich, Craig Pettigrew, Dede Gilser, Eric Robertson, Iain McPherson, James Kekanovich, James Vandervoort, and John E Pallotta for sharing their memories. Thanks also to Erin O’Connor, Jay Futronic, and photographer Steven Lungley for the images.

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

Article originally published April 12, 2012 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

In the latest edition of her nightlife-history series, Denise Benson revisits the Entertainment District institution that brought underground rave culture to Toronto’s mainstream club crowd at the dawn of the millennium.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: System Soundbar, 117 Peter

Years in operation: 1999-2005

History: System Soundbar was an unlikely home for electronic dance music with a decidedly underground bent. Opened smack dab in the middle of the commercial club district, System was owned by Zisi Konstantinou—former owner/operator of successful Adelaide Street spot Limelight—with his partners Spyros Theoharis and Boris Khaimovich. They hired former Limelight employee Orin Bristol as general manager, and the group worked to develop a plan.

“Zisi purchased the building as a property investment, and we were trying to figure out what to do with the basement as it was just being used as storage space,” shares Bristol. “We spoke about doing a nightclub, but thought it would be a hard sell for a mainstream crowd as it was in a basement.

“At the same time, the city was cracking down on raves and there were less and less spots to do parties in. Because of our Wednesday nights at Limelight [with EDM/rave DJs Craig Pettigrew and John E], we had come to know the guys from [promoters] Lifeforce Industries. Between Craig and them, we talked about doing rave-style events in the space.”

And so Bristol—a club manager with strong vision who now works for INK Entertainment—gained an EDM education. System Soundbar opened on March 18, 1999. Lifeforce Industries, the umbrella organization that produced massive raves under the Dose, Renegades, and Syrous banners, brought underground sounds to the fun-fur and fat-pants crowd on Fridays. Pettigrew and his Metro crew attracted maturing ravers on Saturdays. Other early System weeklies included FungleJunk Tuesdays and Breakfest Sundays. People flocked to the raw space.

“It was a dark, grungy basement nightclub originally,” says Bristol. “We spent very little to get it done because we just weren’t sure what we were going to get. Also, the crowd was coming from raving in warehouses and in fields so only the minimum was necessary.

“It was a huge success—people loved the underground feel and the late-night vibe. Our biggest issue in the first year was the sound. The system wasn’t good enough, and not coming from the genre, we didn’t understand that it was all about the music.”

Though System’s sound would be majorly upgraded over time, the club faced a bigger crisis soon after its first year. Some of the Lifeforce owners became partners in Turbo Nightclub (later known as Sound Emporium) and soon System Soundbar’s core group of weekend promoters all decamped, DJs in tow, to this club around the corner.

According to Bristol, “We mainstream nightclub guys were left to figure it out.“

Lineup outside of System. Photo by Ryan Parks.

Why it was important: System Soundbar operated during a pivotal time for electronic dance music in Toronto. Not only were our massive raves under heavy scrutiny from the law, City, and media, there were very few licensed nightclubs devoted to underground electronics. The Guvernment was the biggie, but its musical focus was limited. The house-heavy Industry Nightclub was waning, and would close in summer 2000.

“System was different because it was its own little animal,” says Deko-ze, a top Toronto DJ who would play at the Soundbar throughout most of its history. “It was a perfect mid-size club, unlike something like The Docks or Guvernment, so it didn’t need to prove something by being big. It was about top quality, forward-thinking vibes and attitudes. System was based around the music.”

Deko-ze DJs at System. Photo by Ryan Parks.

With a legal capacity of 1,100, System Soundbar was an ideal size and fit for a spread of EDM sounds. System offered a new secure spot for aging ravers, and a comfortable entry point for new clubbers to experience underground EDM culture.

“System Soundbar started with the 19-plus old-school rave crowd as ravers started to grow up and turn into clubbers,” agrees Jesse Brown, who worked with the Lifeforce crew in promoting events like FungleJunk, and went on to produce events including the World Electronic Music Festival.

“Later, when almost all the raves had disappeared, System was the place you could still find just about all styles of EDM, and hear the same DJs we would experience in the big warehouses.”

After the departure of System’s first successful weekend nights, a variety of events were tested, but it was through Bristol’s meeting with Patrick Aranain, a.k.a. DJ Evil P, “that we found the guys who would be the foundation for everything that System Soundbar turned into.”

Local talent was placed front and centre as Aranain introduced Bristol to DJs and promoters who launched the weeklies that most clubbers still associate with System Soundbar: d&b and breaks night BodyRoc Tuesdays (later Loose Wednesdays), pioneering progressive-house event Breathe Fridays, and heavy house hitter Bang Saturdays.

“Patrick was a good DJ, a great booker, and an excellent friend,” says Bristol of the DJ who would rule Bang’s booth for its multi-year run, but who passed away in late 2009. “He taught me what I needed to know about this scene to succeed in the following years.”

Bang was a unique house night in that it ran from deep and soulful to funky, tribal, and dark. Frequent guests included Roy Davis Jr., Derrick Carter, and MC Flipside, with Evil P’s co-residents including Dino & Terry, Deep Groove, Lady Linzee, and, in the lounge, Michael Drury.

Dino & Terry with Patrick Aranain a.k.a. Evil P (right). Photo by Ryan Parks.

“Soulful house was making a bit of a resurgence at the time, with songs like “Finally” by KOT bridging a few different scenes,” recalls Dino Demopoulos, who, with brother Terry, was known for deep-house productions and DJ sets in more intimate clubs, like The Living Room, Element, and 5ive.

“It was seen to be a nice complement to the harder stuff that Patrick played, which is why they booked us initially. System was a big club, with a great sound system, and was always pumping with energy so it was a great challenge [for us]. There was a huge range of guest DJs booked to play, from Louie Vega to Bad Boy Bill. Bang was a very consistent night.”

Patrick Aranain also introduced Bristol to promoters Mike Grecco and Jose Rodriguez who, along with DJs Mark Scaife, Deko-ze and, soon after, Luke Fair, and Matt Coleridge, would be responsible for making Breathe Fridays arguably the most influential progressive house weekly in North America.

“The Guvernment was trance, while Industry was house and techno; progressive was an emerging market,” says Bristol. “No one in the city was doing two back-to-back house nights at the time, but we all made it work.”

Matt Coleridge. Photo by Ryan Parks.

“The sound had matured from progressive trance into progressive house with darker, more tribal undertones, and it needed a home,” explains Coleridge, a professional DJ since 1998 who caught his break as part of Breathe. “Much like the way Industry had sought to bring a stable weekly club venue for house music, Breathe looked to accomplish that for progressive house.”

They did so, attracting 800 to 1,000 people each week, with Breathe’s core residents as the main draw.

Mark Scaife. Photo by Ryan Parks.

“If you were there for a full night, you heard a lot of tech house and techno integrated with the progressive, alongside a few big riffs and the more melodic progressive,” details Mark Scaife, a seasoned DJ who held it down during Breathe’s entire four-year run.

“As we built Breathe, it got more structured towards that techy progressive sound, a little more edgy. For a while there, we went pretty dark, just seeing how far we could take it. We had a lot of leeway; people were up for a different sound. Breathe was an experiment that worked really well.”

Breathe worked so well that its resident DJs gained international tour dates and notoriety as influential publications like Mixmag and DJ Magazine wrote about the night. Other Toronto dance clubs also took note and booked more progressive house DJs. Big artists like Deep Dish, Hybrid, and Infusion all graced the Breathe roster, but other guests weren’t so established at the time.

“Steve Lawler, Danny Howells, and Lee Burridge all got their Toronto start at Breathe,” points out Coleridge. “System brought many, many international DJs to Toronto for the first time, DJs who are still regulars in this city. It was also home to a huge number of DJs who, like me, really got their start playing in this city.”

This is something that Orin Bristol remains very proud of.

“Basically, all of us were the little guys,” he states. “We were the mainstream club guys who didn’t initially know anything about the electronic scene, and the smaller DJs and promoters who had never been given an opportunity to be on the front lines. We gathered them all up, put them under one roof, and they flourished.”

Shy FX. Photo by Ryan Parks.

Who else played/worked there: During its near-seven-year-stint, System Soundbar was also a constant home to drum ‘n’ bass. The sound was huge in Toronto, but rarely were d&b DJs given weekly clubs nights, especially in sizable venues. Soon after FungleJunk’s demise, drum ‘n’ bass DJ and Empire Productions promoter Ryan Smith, a.k.a. Ryan Ruckus, came on board. In June of 2001, all-ages drum ‘n’ bass and breaks night BodyRoc was born.

“Aside from making a point to highlight the abundance of amazing talent from right here in Toronto, we brought in big international d&b talent such as Nicky Blackmarket, Teebee, Mickey Finn, Marley Marl, and others,” says Smith. “But it was our first sold-out event with Shy FX and MC Skibadee that had us settle into System nicely. [Listen to a recording here.] I remember a lot of the staff poking fun at the music we played at first but, in little time, we made believers out of most of them.”

Jesse Brown of Destiny (far left) with Ryan Ruckus (far right). Photo courtesy of Brown.

Ryan Smith a.k.a. DJ Ryan Ruckus. Photo by Ryan Parks.

A year later, Smith and Empire switched it up and launched the 19-plus Loose Wednesdays, a weekly that Bristol describes as “The reason why I’ve done d&b events in every club I’ve run since then.”

With rotating resident DJs including Ruckus, Diligence, Mystical Influence, Marcus Visionary, Lush, and Everfresh, and a hip-hop room led by DJ Tasc, Loose was a mid-week hit.

“The enthusiasm and support poured from the top down,” says Destiny Event’s Jesse Brown, who also guested at Loose under the DJ name of originalVIBE. “Orin Bristol loved drum ‘n’ bass and was committed to showing the city how successful this music would become.”

As evidence, System Soundbar and Ryan Ruckus also hosted Loaded Saturdays through all of 2005. It was Toronto’s first-ever drum ‘n’ bass Saturday held in a large main room.

It’s impossible to list all of the local and international DJs who played at System over the years, but promoters including Fukhouse (techno and tech house) and Activate (breaks) certainly produced many other standout events.

DJ Craze and A-Trak (right) at System. Photo by Ryan Parks.

Superfunk at System, December 2005. Photo by Ryan Parks.

Additionally, hip-hop, R&B, and old-school event Superfunk Thursdays—promoted by a crew including Down With Webster’s Dave Ferris and DJed by resident John J—attracted consistently huge crowds for five full years. Top 40 and club anthems were relegated to Monday nights in the warmer half of the year, when System would be filled with foam and hot tubs.

More mainstream crowds were drawn to System by these two nights in particular, causing heated discussion on EDM message boards, as did the flashy renovations put into place in 2004. System fans debated the “mainstreaming” of the club, but there’s no denying that the hundreds of additional people who began attending System after bar hours on weekend nights added to the energy.

Richie Hawtin plays System. Photo by Ryan Parks.

Everyone I spoke to for this article has stories of nights they hold especially dear, with multiple mentions of guest DJs including Richie Hawtin, Barry Weaver, Ed Rush & Optical (hear their FungleJunk set here), A-Trak, and the personable Donald Glaude, who was even game to kill the music one night while a guest proposed to his girlfriend on the dancefloor.

“The whole place erupted with cheers, and then Donald rocked it,” recalls Bristol.

Bristol cites the night when an appearance by Mauro Picotto made him realize “DJs were like rock stars. When he started to DJ, we had to call two security guards to the front of the booth because people were trying to climb up to touch him. People were crying—men and women, it was insane. I’d never heard of this guy before I signed off on the booking the month before.”

Deko-ze, who warmed up for Picotto that night, describes another Breathe special that touched him.

“Sister Bliss, of Faithless, was guesting,” he begins, “She cued up a record and said to me, ‘You might like this next one.’ For the next seven-and-a-half-minutes, the floor was annihilated. It was the new Faithless single, ‘We Come One.’ An hour later, she puts on a record that took the crowd through an intense emotional rollercoaster, brought several people to tears, and made me close my eyes, dance like I was weightless, and shout ‘Yes!’ aloud twice. It was her own demo of ‘Deliver Me.’”

Finally, there is the legendary night when Mark Farina was booked, and a water main in 117 Peter burst. Bristol recounts that 800 people were inside the club, with 300 more in line. Refunds were offered, but Farina would still play. Few people left.

A water main burst on a night Mark Farina DJed. Few people left.

“We did well over 1,400 people,” says Bristol. “The water was to the middle of the dancefloor by the time Rotor Rooter came and shut it off, but people rolled up their pants and danced in it. That was one of our best nights ever.”

This also speaks to the “friends and family vibe” that many use to describe System Soundbar.

“It was a space where you were just accepted—young, white, transgendered, rich, women, black, gay, tall, Asian, old, men, poor, straight, everyone,” Bristol emphasizes. “I have never worked in any environment before where the customers, staff, promoters and DJs were so connected.”

System Soundbar’s final blowout on Dec. 31, 2005. Photo by Ryan Parks.

What happened to it: By 2005, Jesse Brown recalls, “Most nightclubs and bars played Top 40; EDM was on the way down, and hip-hop and R&B were on the way up. System resisted until the end.”

By later 2005, weekend nights were attracting crowds of less than 500.

“Zisi decided at that time it made more sense to be a landlord than the owner of a six-year-old club,” shares Bristol. “He knew development was coming, and all he had to do was hold on and he would make a mint.”

Demolition begins at 117 Peter. Photo courtesy of Orin Bristol.

System Soundbar went out with two large events: a family affair featuring resident DJs from Bang and Breathe on December 23, 2005 and a final New Year’s Eve blowout with DJ Danny Howells.

Konstantinou first sold the club to people who opened short-lived Top 40 spot Embassy. The entire 117 Peter Street building was later sold to developers. It has been demolished to make way for the 36-storey Tableau Condominiums.

117 Peter in April 2012. Photo by Denise Benson.

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