After almost two decades of hosting the world’s biggest DJs, alongside some of Toronto’s finest, Canada’s largest nightclub recently closed doors to make way for condo development on the waterfront. With the participation of some of The Guv’s key players, Then & Now delves deep to tell the exhaustive story of a club that mirrors – and contributed greatly to – electronic music’s evolution. Rave on.

By: DENISE BENSON

Club: The Guvernment complex, 132 Queens Quay East

Years in operation: 1996 – 2015

History: Charles Khabouth has been mentioned throughout the Then & Now series as his influence in Toronto nightlife is widely felt. Khabouth’s earliest nightclubs, Club Z on St. Joseph and Stilife on Richmond, were pioneering in very different ways. Early in 1996, he began work on a wildly ambitious project, one so successful that it would both cement Toronto’s reputation as an international clubbing destination, and anchor Khabouth’s ever-expanding business empire. But things could have turned out very differently.

In the mid ‘90s, the stretch of our waterfront near Queens Quay and Jarvis was still fairly isolated and industrial. A stone’s throw from Lake Shore Boulevard, it held factories, parking lots and stretches of open space. Condos did not dominate the landscape.

The 60,000 square foot space at 132 Queens Quay East had housed large clubs in its recent past. From 1984 to late 1985, it had been home to the Assoon brothers’ innovative Fresh Restaurant and Nightclub. For the next decade, it was the location of popular club RPM and its sister concert space, the Warehouse.

When Khabouth took over the building on January 1, 1996 he couldn’t have known that he had almost eight months of renovating ahead. But he did know that he had to compete with Toronto’s then-booming, highly concentrated Entertainment District.

“I thought, ‘How am I going to compete with 50 nightclubs side-by-side downtown?’ Khabouth tells me during an expansive interview. “Kids would go to the one area and bop around all night long. I realized I had to do a multi-room venue or I had no hope in hell. That’s why I created five venues under one roof, plus the Warehouse, which really was a warehouse.” Though the Warehouse was already well established as a concert venue, Khabouth mainly attributes this to its size (Toronto has a dearth of such venues with a capacity of two to three thousand).

“There was nothing there,” he exclaims of the space; “There were not even any bars built. Instead, there were boxes that they used to stand up and roll out, with Pepsi-Cola beer fridges. There was no running water. There were columns in the Warehouse; I spent millions of dollars just removing five columns. I rebuilt the stage. An insane amount of money went into there.”

Khabouth’s pockets were not as deep in early ‘96 so he had to spend wisely. He hired Yabu Pushelberg, who had designed Stilife’s stunning interior, and asked them to work on a tight budget. As a nod to Stilife, there was a section of ceiling-to-floor chains installed in what would become the Guv’s main room, but little else was similar.

“They didn’t go all out, in terms of spending money, because they understood the situation,” says Khabouth of the designers. “So the aesthetics were cool, but there was no marble, no granite, no silver leaf ceilings. What we did was build some beds with fun fur, some furniture with bubble gum, purple, lime green and orange vinyl. We made the room sexy, but more of a fun space.”

The Guvernment in 1996. Photo courtesy of a Then & Now reader.

The Guvernment complex opened in summer 1996, with the main room and Acid Lounge off of it, Orange Room, The Drink, and a rooftop patio. This section of the building was licensed for a total of 1600 (over time, and with multiple renovations, capacity would more than triple).

People entered through a curved area, turning around a bend before walking directly onto the dancefloor. Where RPM’s emphasis had fallen on its huge bar in the middle of the room and stage along the east wall, which had a dancefloor sectioned off of it by railings, the Guv’s main room was all about the dancefloor. Bars surrounded it.

Most impressive of all was The Guvernment’s sound and lighting.

“I had the sound system custom made [by New York’s Steve Dash of Phazon]. All of the boxes, the mixing board, everything was custom made for us. We had the identical sound system until the end.

“I had hydraulic trusses – nobody had hydraulics back then – that went up and down, with moving lights. I also got a massive laser; at the time, it was the largest laser in Canada. I wanted the sound and the lighting to wow people. I spent a lot of my money there so that when you went in, you felt ‘Whoa!’”

More than 12 million people would come to be wowed at the Guv over time, but crowds did not flock there from the start. It took a while for people to even know it existed.

“My biggest issue was that by the time I opened, I was in a lot of debt,” Khabouth admits. “That thing was like the ocean; it was never-ending. You’d rip one wall out, and it would be rotted so we’d have to rip out the floor and the ceiling. And then there would be plumbing that had rotted, and electrical issues. It was layer after layer. By the time I opened, I was completely out of money to do promotion and marketing. There was no social media back then, remember.

“We opened in the middle of summer, when The Docks [now Sound Academy] had just opened, and they had this beautiful patio on the water. Cars would stop and ask us how to get to The Docks; they didn’t know we were open or have a clue who we were. It took about three or four months of hanging on to that massive building before we were up-and-running. When you’re supposed to have a few thousand people and you have three hundred, it’s scary.”

Guvernment main room interior in 1996, from a Boost & Titan Productions promo flyer.

Guvernment main room interior in 1996, from a Boost & Titan Productions promo flyer.

Why it was important: There are myriad reasons why The Guvernment (eventually to become known simply as ‘Guvernment’) was a significant venue in Toronto and beyond. Some were evident from its start, including Khabouth’s commitment to dance and electronic music.

Khabouth hired Albert Assoon, formerly of Fresh and Twilight Zone, as Guvernment’s first musical director. Early DJs included names familiar from Stilife, like Joe Marella and JC Sunshine. Still, it was a slow build.

A Saturday night appearance by Danny Tenaglia helped change that. Sound engineer Steve Dash, also co-owner of influential New York club Sound Factory, where Tenaglia played, suggested that Guvernment book him.

“I was like ‘Who the hell is Danny?’” chuckles Khabouth. “He was very much gay focused at that time; the straight market hadn’t caught on to him yet. What happened that night was really weird.

“By that time, we were attracting maybe a thousand people weekly. Then we also had a thousand or 1500 boys show up. When Danny went on, all the shirts came off. I had some people leave, asking ‘Is this a gay club? Is this a straight club?’ It was a funny, but good experience. Danny was so able to drive the sound system – he used it to its fullest and honestly, it was hair-raising.”

As luck would have it, Khabouth had also hired a new resident DJ to launch Spin Saturdays the following week.

Mark Oliver was already well established in Toronto, having played countless warehouse parties, and clubs ranging from the gritty and groovy (Cameron House, Tazmanian Ballroom) to larger and more polished (Klub Max, Go-Go). By 1996 though, Oliver was at the centre of our rave scene, having emerged from the dark rooms of 23 Hop (318 Richmond) to play massive productions.

“I was headlining pretty much every rave in town at the time, and was playing at Buzz, which is now Comfort Zone,” says Oliver. “Charles knew he had to go big with Guvernment, and questioned me. He knew I played the raves, and was probably concerned about all the things he’d been reading about that scene. He also wanted to make sure I would be able to play some of the more commercial sounding club tracks. I assured him that I’d played Klub Max before, and that I always play the room. I don’t like to cheese out all the way, but I do understand the usefulness of a good remix.

“I think Charles was still a bit nervous, but we set a date, which was in September of 1996. Danny Tenaglia had played the week before. From that Saturday until the end, it was packed every week.”

“From the first night Mark was there, I thought ‘Wow. This guy gets it,’” credits Khabouth. “Playing a big room is difficult. The sound has to be big, and the programming is totally different. Mark has an incredible talent. He never misses, never.”

Oliver had a deep appreciation of Guvernment’s sound system. “As a DJ, you want the best sound possible, and it was a dream come true,” he enthuses. “I knew with Albert there that it was going to be something special, based on his pedigree with Twilight Zone. The sound itself was pristine. The monitors matched perfectly to the dancefloor, so whatever you heard up in the booth was what people heard below. The DJ booth was still in the spot where it was at RPM, so it was pretty high up from the dancefloor, and quite removed, which suited me perfectly.”

Guv’s original DJ booth. Photo taken December 31, 1996 by a Then & Now reader.

Though there were occasional live PAs, with performances by vocalists including Gwen McCrae and Octahvia, Oliver played Guvernment’s main room “Every Saturday, from beginning to end, for the first five years.

“It was basically a rave, but there was a dress code,” Oliver describes; “So instead of wearing fun fur, everyone wore shirts that looked like they’d just bought them to get in the club. Then they tried to get them off as soon as they could. Any time there was a shirtless dude, three bouncers would make him put his shirt back on, at least back then.”

Ravers, in fact, were a big part of what kept The Guvernment complex afloat early on. Khabouth rented the rooms to rave production companies, which met everyone’s needs at the time. This helped a scene under scrutiny continue to grow, and paid some bills while word of the Guv spread.

“Basically, the City had jumped all over the rave promoters, and essentially sent the raves indoors,” recalls Jamil Kamal, who started working security at the Guvernment in 1996, and became Khabouth’s right-hand-man in all things risk management.

“The raves were forced into club venues, and Charles had the biggest one.”

Promoters like Better Days, Destiny, Hullabaloo, Kind, Renegades and Syrous took full advantage of the club’s potential. Some people grumbled about the move from warehouses, roller rinks and borrowed spaces to legal venues, but there were advantages.

“I wasn’t against the legal venues as they had proper plumbing, exits, alcohol for sale, and proper security,” says Marcus Visionary, local DJ, producer and drum ‘n’ bass ambassador. “Some people hated the legal events, but many of us embraced them because they were safe, and they were at less risk of being shut down.

“I loved playing inside the Warehouse as it felt like an underground venue, but much more secure. One of my favourite Syrous events was held there – the five-year anniversary [in 1998] with True Playaz, featuring Hype, Pascal, Fats and GQ.”

Syrous ‘Hyped,’ 5-Year Anniversary Party, 1998. Video by Rick Toxic. 

“Our Syrous five-year was one of the first raves where the entire complex, and all the rooms in it, was filled,” recalls Rob Lisi, a Syrous co-founder.

That same year, Lisi and fellow rave entrepreneurs Steve and Wayne Mealing (a.k.a. DJs Stretch & Hooker), Aaron Micks, and Tyler Cho formed Lifeforce Industries, an umbrella organization under which their Syrous, Renegades and Dose brands lived. Between 1996 and 2001, they produced about 10 parties at the Guv and Warehouse (Warehouse became KoolHaus in 1999, following renovations).

“I liked the fact that KoolHaus was an empty shell, and you could create whatever you wanted with it,” says Lisi. “You could have parties there every week, and make them look totally different. The main room on the other hand was already operating as a nightclub. The design and décor were impressive, and the sound system and DJ booth were second to none at that time.

“For the more established promoters, the Guvernment complex was the only game in town. Until we started producing events with 10 to 15 thousand people, and growing into venues like CNE and The International Centre, there weren’t a lot of large, legal venue options in the city. The Guverment’s location meant it was far enough from residential neighbourhoods that you wouldn’t get 20 sound complaints in a night. The capacity of the whole complex was also attractive to promoters because you could accommodate 5000 people, with the potential to program different genres of music in each room.”

The multiple rooms and distinct experiences they offered was always one of the venue’s biggest draws. Khabouth understood how to maximize these differences to create a unique whole.

“I had worked security at clubs like Joker and Big Bop, both of which had multiple floors and DJs, but it was always the same demographic moving from floor to floor,” describes Kamal. “What I really appreciated about Guvernment in its beginning was that you had this incredible complex that catered to completely different crowds.

“Other than the Acid Lounge, every room had its own DJ booth, entry, washrooms, coat check and identity. It wasn’t just ‘The hip-hop room of the Guvernment.’ People would say ‘I’m here for the Orange Room.’ There were people who went to The Drink for years, and never ventured elsewhere. They drove in from the suburbs, went up to The Drink in their dress pants and shirt, and never went downstairs.”

The Orange Room. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

The Drink was Guvernment’s VIP space. In the RPM days, the room had been where people went to play pool and gaze out at the lake. Khabouth boarded up the windows, courted light controversy by putting in fish tanks for tables and lining one wall with a shelf of dildos, and hired smart, attractive people to decide who got in.

Zark Fatah, now partner in Capture Group, was one of those people. He had worked at RPM as a go-go dancer, got hired as an early Guvernment bartender, and promoted various rooms at the club before heading to Miami for a stretch. When he came back in 1999, Fatah worked door at The Drink.

“My thing was bringing in the more fashion forward, mature demographic,” Fatah says. “To get in to The Drink was not easy; you had to look a certain part, and cover charge was higher. The Drink was that next level of clubbing.” “

The Drink catered to the suit-and-tie, cigar-smoking crowd,” summarizes Oliver. “The Leafs used to come after their games. Mats Sundin used to hang out there. It was the hot spot. Although you could walk back and forth, that crowd stuck to The Drink and the ravers stuck to the main room.”

Friday nights at The Guvernment also attracted a variety of people to the different rooms. The crowd was largely gay for well over a year, with DJs including Cory Activate, James St. Bass and Matt C playing alongside out-of-town guests. Guv was known to be very gay friendly, with Boy’s Life events, Prism parties, and other special events in the overall programming mix.

DJ Clymaxxx at Global Fridays, 1999. Photo courtesy of him.

Early in 1998, Global Fridays launched as a new weekly. DJ Clymaxxx, known for his signature three-turntable sets (the xxx represents three turntables) and for packing The Joker nightclub for two years’ of Fridays, became a Guv main room resident. DJs Kid C, Dave Campbell and Baby Yu (now official tour DJ for Young Jeezy) joined him, while G-Money played in The Drink, Toney Williams MCed, and people like Neil Forester (now owner of the Substance Group) hosted.

“We called it ‘Global Fridays’ because we wanted to cater to everyone,” explains DJ Clymaxxx. “It was Latin upstairs in The Drink, classic tracks in the Acid Lounge, and a different music format in each room. The main room was straight urban, with R&B, hip-hop, dancehall, and even some soca.

“Urban music was starting to blow up in the mainstream again, but back then you could only really listen to R&B and hip-hop at much smaller venues. A lot of club owners worried about touching an urban night, but then, Charles was never typical. He took a chance on bringing the format into the main room for a weekly. In the process, he captured a massive audience that wanted to experience an urban party in a world-class club environment.”

From 1998 to 2004, Global Fridays packed the Guv, with a range of big-name guests, like Funkmaster Flex, Cipha Sounds, DJ Clue, and DJ Who Kid adding to the vibes. Clymaxxx got crowds pumping to the sounds of anthems like Mobb Deep’s “Shook Ones Pt. II;” M.O.P. featuring Busta Rhymes’ “Ante Up”;” Notorious B.I.G. “One More Chance;” Jay-Z “I Just Wanna Love U,” and 112’s “Only You.”

“The Friday night crowd was extremely passionate about music,” says the DJ. “Thousands would jump up and down, chanting lyrics in unison, and go absolutely nuts. I could literally feel the room shake. That’s another thing that was so different about Charles: where other club owners would tell me to calm it down because the crowd was getting too fired up, he relished the crowd reaction. He would routinely walk into the DJ booth during prime time, inspect the absolute pandemonium going on below, then tell me to kick it up a notch and make it crazier.”

DJ Clymaxxx (left) with Charles Khabouth in 1999. Photo courtesy of DJ Clymaxxx.

“The Guvernment was a spectacle every night, and Charles made it that way,” confirms Kamal. “It was a testament to his vision. People will ask ‘Can you learn what Charles does?’ Operationally, sure, but you can’t learn what he’s created. There’s no book that can teach you that. He can look at a room and turn it into something special.”

Khabouth’s genuine love of dance music fed into that vision. The success of many full-facility raves only added to his belief that electronic music should figure prominently in the Guv’s programming.

“I saw where the music was going, and where the kids were going,” says Khabouth. ”The music was great. My biggest thing in life is that I like to do what I enjoy, and I loved this.

“I used to have a baseball cap I’d keep in the back, and when I put it on, the staff would know I was going to dance. I’d go in the middle of the floor, and dance. I wasn’t thinking ‘How much money did I make tonight?’ I was thinking ‘This is awesome!’ Of course I want to make money, but I was driven by the music, the energy, the kids that got all dressed up to come out, the costumes. It was an era when people came out and had an incredible time.”

In some ways, it’s both impressive and amazing that a venue the size of Guvernment remained committed to an electronic music format on Saturdays for its entire history. There was a period in the very early 2000s when Toronto’s rave scene fractured, the audience for the music shrunk, and the parties moved into more intimate club settings. Guvernment also had to compete for crowds and talent with newer clubs like System Soundbar and Turbo. The guaranteed big room draws weren’t as plentiful then as they would become less than 10 years later, as EDM became all the rage in America.

“It was risky [to focus on electronic music] then, in every way,” says Khabouth. “We had cops harass us; the music wasn’t very commercial, radio wasn’t playing it. Even though we did big numbers sometimes, it was still very much an underground scene. We took a lot of chances.”

DJ Mark Oliver at Guvernment circa 2007. Photo by André M Photography.

Spin Saturdays remained popular, with Mark Oliver at the musical helm. His vantage point allowed him to see a lot more than the crowds; Oliver also observed as touring DJs came to expect the spotlight.

“The first five years, it was just me playing all night, and then we started bringing in more guests, especially after Industry closed,” Oliver recalls. “I remember that some of the guests, instead of having the gooseneck lamps pointed down at the turntables to see the record grooves, they turned them up towards themselves and put them on full blast. They wanted everyone to see them. It soon became evident that a lot of these DJs wanted to be down on the stage, so [in 2007] the room was renovated significantly.

“The original stage, along the east wall, became bottle service – that whole thing was coming into play so they needed to create booths and tables – and the stage itself was moved right into the middle. The DJ booth was put on hydraulics so you could lower it right down. That way the superstar DJs could be front and centre, and when there were concerts, the booth could be lowered underneath the stage.”

Early guests included a number of British DJs, like Carl Cox and Paul Oakenfold, who had played huge Toronto raves as well as at Industry nightclub, but weren’t yet household names across North America. Guvernment was impressive to them.

Paul Oakenfold in Guvernment DJ booth circa 2004. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

“For the first few years that guests were coming in, guys like Sasha and John Digweed would say ‘This is the best club in the world.’ It had that reputation,” says Oliver.

“A lot of times, they would tour through the States and play Toronto before going back to Europe. This was before the EDM explosion so they were playing all kinds of weird venues in the U.S., like country bars and stuff. Then they’d come in to Guvernment and be blown away. Some were shocked, like ‘This is better than Ibiza!’”

Oliver missed less than 10 Saturdays during Spin’s long run (“Firstly, I have four kids so I wasn’t going to travel all that much. Also, touring DJs would say to me ‘Why would you go anywhere else?’”). His perspective as an 18-year resident at the largest club in Canada meant he was not only witness to trends in big room club music, but also to changes in DJ styles and skills.

“We started off with Danny Tenaglia, Junior Vasquez, David Morales, and guys who’d been spinning for years,” explains Oliver. “They were true DJs. Then it seemed that anyone who put out a track was a DJ, and many just weren’t. They were producers, and they’d come in and try to DJ, but it would fall apart. A lot of the crowd became less discerning.”

Over time, and with a lot of EDM producers’ reliance on concert-like production values to enhance the impact of their massive beats and dramatic bass drops, crowds also came to expect a show rather than a steady flow of sound through the night.

“For a lot of the younger crowd, it can be more about ‘What’s this DJ going to do visually to turn me on?’ rather than sonically,” offers Oliver. “Some people would look at me and say I was boring because I wasn’t raising my hands and striking poses. But I’m actually working, putting a set together on the fly. Guys like John Digweed, it’s the same thing. His head is down most of the time, focused on what he’s doing. Others would come in with sets all pre-programmed on Traktor or Serato; they were all about the interaction with the crowd. It seems to be split these days; half the crowd is into that while the other half is deeper into the music. I just stuck to my guns and played what I play.”

Digweed DJing Guv main room at Labour of Love in 2005. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

Steve Aoki with Bloody Beetroots. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

Afrojack at Labour of Love 2010. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

No matter where one stands in relation to this divide, or your personal tastes in electronic music, there simply is no denying that both Guvernment and INK Entertainment, the company Khabouth founded as an umbrella organization for his multitude of clubs and lifestyle projects, book the biggest name in the biz. Avicii, Armin van Buuren, Afrojack, Tiësto, David Guetta, Hardwell, Steve Angello, Above and Beyond, Deadmau5, and so many more of today’s top tier touring DJs have played the Guv, many of them multiple times, including early in their careers.

“People say it’s because we throw a lot of money at talent,” says Khabouth of INK’s access to agents and bookings. “I think we pay less than most people do. We’ve been there since day one, and there’s a certain commitment from the managers, the DJs – that ‘Hey, these guys were booking us when we were 500 bucks.’

“If another player comes to town tomorrow, who doesn’t have the relationships, but they had a hundred million dollars, they couldn’t book the same talent. Why? Because we have those relationships, those partnerships, friendships, and understandings. With us, they know the production will be quality, and that we’re going to fill the room. Then you’re building somebody’s name and career.”

INK and the Guvernment have also remained leaders in the electronic music industry through sheer size and volume, with ownership of club venues past and present including This Is London, Cube, Uniun, and Dragonfly in Niagara Falls, not to mention festivals such as VELD. Khabouth also gives credit to INK’s Music Director, Talal Farisi.

“Talal has been with us for 13 or 14 years, and he definitely has his finger on the pulse. He’s 24-7. He’s got a good ear for finding talent, finding who is up-and-coming, and for building incredible DJ lineups.”

In turn, people such as Zark Fatah, who now co-owns clubs such as Maison Mercer, credits Khabouth. “Guvernment put Toronto on the map globally,” Fatah states. “What Charles did was provide an amazing platform for some of the best DJs in the world to come and play our city. In North America, we are one of the few cities that sees the talent that we get.”

There is no question that the Guvernment’s bookings are a big part of what earned the club its international reputation as a place to play, for DJs and clubbers alike. Guvernment regularly ranked well in DJ Mag’s annual Top 100 Clubs lists, reaching as high as #8 in 2008. The club’s design, constant refreshing, and Khabouth’s well-established attention to details also played a big part.

Chroma (formerly the Orange Room). Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

“I’ve traveled to Ibiza and all the big club destinations around the world, and I still find Guvernment to be impressive,” says Fatah, also an avid photographer and prone to observing minutiae himself. “It was unique, with so many offerings. Design and details were always very important to Charles, and he definitely had the creative vision to push the envelope, and do what he thought would be cool.

“He didn’t have to brand five different rooms, but he did. And then he would renovate and reinterpret each room every few years. A lot of club owners get complacent, and don’t change anything until it gets to be necessary. Charles has always been very progressive in his thinking.”

“I would simply describe the space as world class,” agrees DJ Clymaxxx. “There really was nothing comparable in the city. I’ll always remember the look of awe on people’s faces when they walked into the main room for the first time. I saw that reaction a lot over the years; it was the same reaction I had. Because of Charles’ continued reinvestment in the venue, the club always felt fresh.

“There was a certain ‘it factor’ about Guv – something that just made it feel totally different from any other club in the country,” adds Clymaxxx. “If you ever found yourself in the middle of a packed dancefloor there at 2:30am, blinded by the lights, and with the speakers pounding, you probably know what I’m talking about.”

Who else played there: Although this article largely focuses on the Guv as a significant home for DJs and electronic music culture, it must be said that the complex hosted bands, productions, and music of all types.

Hundreds of artists played on the Guvernment stage, such as Daft Punk, Brand New Heavies, Macy Gray, Jungle Brothers and Le Tigre. The Warehouse and KoolHaus were host to thousands, with a tiny list including David Bowie, Prince, INXS, Bob Dylan, Sonic Youth, Coldplay, Chemical Brothers, The Knife, Portishead, Prodigy, Underworld, Lady Gaga, Justin Bieber, Kings of Leon, Chromeo, My Bloody Valentine, Broken Social Scene, Foo Fighters, Neutral Milk Hotel, The Roots, and Lykke Li.

Lykke Li at KoolHaus. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

KoolHaus also got a workout during the Guv’s many full-facility long weekend events, like Labour of Love and Decadence. The room continued to be of importance for junglists as Theory events often spilled over into the space.

Theory was a drum ‘n’ bass series that ran from 2002 to 2009. Launched by former Guvernment talent booker Jose Rodriguez, Theory was co-produced and anchored by Toronto DJs Tasc and Marcus Visionary, with Mr. Brown, Clancy Silver, Frankie Gunns, and others later coming on as co-residents. The full spectrum of dnb and jungle was represented through Theory’s seriously stacked lineups.

“At one point, Theory was the largest dnb company in the country,” says Visionary. “We booked most of the big names over the years. We had Fabio on the rooftop, Andy C and Shy FX in The Drink, Mampi Swift in the Gallery, and several massive raves in KoolHaus and the Guv main room. We also had Die and Krust play a back-to-back set in The Drink, which was very memorable. The Drink was a long, not-so-big venue that would get rammed, and the energy was always so incredible! I also can’t count how many times we had Hype, Calibre and Fabio inside the Orange Room.

“The Guv complex most definitely played a massive role in the development of dnb,” adds Visionary, who continues to DJ and produce prolifically, tours Europe regularly, and now broadcasts twice monthly on British radio station Kool London.

Marcus Visionary (left) with ShyFX at Theory. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

Theory in KoolHaus. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass.

DJ Hype in KoolHaus. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

Over the years, Theory also presented dnb giants like Grooverider, LTJ Bukem, Photek, Kenny Ken, Suv, Bryan Gee, TeeBee, Calyx, Zinc, and the Digital Soundboy crew. Jungle and drum ‘n’ bass was also well represented throughout the Guvernment’s history by Destiny’s Projek: series, Soul In Motion’s many events, and shows produced by the likes of Toronto Jungle, Sonorous, and On Point.

As mentioned earlier, Guvernment was also a favoured venue for large gay productions.

Prism party (2012). Photo by Alex ‘Billy’ Korittko.

“Revival, the closing party for Pride Weekend, was always the best gay event there,” enthuses Alex ‘Billy’ Korittko, who worked at the Guv for more than 10 years, first doing décor and then as a lighting technician.

“The late DJ Peter Rauhofer did Revival year-after-year for the thousands of men who filled the dancefloor. I will always remember the sunlight flooding in when the patio doors opened at 6am. The party never ended before 9am!”

Korittko mentions a number of other DJs he loved to work alongside, including Ferry Corsten, Paul van Dyk, Gareth Emery, Simon Patterson, Ashley Wallbridge, and Markus Schulz.

Markus Schulz at Guvernment in 2009. Video by Kotsy. See more Kotsy videos from The Guv here.

“The Guvernment set the standards for nightclubs in Toronto,” says Korittko. “No one could compete with the size of the place or the talent that was booked. International DJs called it their Canadian home, and produced tracks named after the venue, and its intersecting streets.”

That said, Toronto talent was also at the Guv’s core. Early on, when each room had its own distinct sound, DJs like George William, James K., Gio, and Dave White were residents. Dave Campbell, Iron Mike, Greg Gow, DJ Aristotle, and others bounced between rooms over the years. Countless local DJs, myself included, played at varying stages of our careers. The Guvernment was a place many aimed to play, and where some built reputations.

DJ/producer Sydney Blu falls into both camps. Known for her love of house and high energy behind the decks, Blu had played clubs like 5ive, Element, It, Mad Bar, Comfort Zone, and System Soundbar before she landed a residency at the Guvernment complex.

Blu started playing at Guvernment in 2002, when she proved herself to be up for long sets and tricky set-ups. Her first Guv gig was playing for the more than 10,000 people who walked by her during the seven-plus hours she mixed vinyl outside the club, as part of that year’s Labour of Love event.

“Charles called, and asked me to come play for the lineup in the parking lot,” Blu recalls. “They put a DJ booth with turntables outside, and I played for every single person who walked into the club.”

By 2005, Blu had played a variety of Guvernment events, as well as at other INK-owned venues. She had a successful Saturday weekly at Film Lounge when she was asked to be a Guv resident at Gallery, a new room set to open.

“I knew Addy, Deko-ze and Nathan Barato were coming, and thought it would be amazing for us all to be residents of the same party,” recalls Blu. “The first night Gallery was unveiled was Halloween 2005, with Steve Lawler. The walls were red velvet, with a giant gazelle head hung over the DJ booth. That gazelle was the Gallery’s signature mascot.”

Sydney Blu in the Gallery. Photo by Sasha Niveole, courtesy of Sydney Blu.

Original flyer for Gallery. Courtesy of Sydney Blu.

Deko-ze in Gallery, 2008. Photo by André M Photography.

From 2005 to 2008, Gallery was a major draw on Saturdays for clubbers into house and techno. Along with Blu and the core crew, Toronto DJs including Simon Jain, Carlo Lio, Evan G, JayForce, Joee Cons , Ovi M, and Tim Patrick tore the room up. Activate was a core promoter of the room, helping to bring in touring DJs such as Donald Glaude, Anthony Attalla, Heidi, Jesse Rose, Paco Osuna, and others.

“It was a dark, hard, afterhours sound,” says Blu of Gallery Saturdays. She lists Mark Knight’s “The Reason;” DJ Chus’ “That Feeling;” DJ Exacta’s “Flippin;” Noir’s “My MTV,” and her own “Give it Up for Me” on Mau5trap as personal anthems of the time and space.

“The crowd was hardcore, I’m not gonna lie. Bottle service did not work in that room; those people had one goal, and that was to dance like no one’s watching! The room’s energy was really electric. The DJ booth was completely level with the crowd so everyone was equal, and everyone was there to unite, and go nuts to the music.”

Similarly, local duo Manzone & Strong established themselves through a tough, tight techno and house hybrid sound that made Guvernment crowds go mad. Joe Manzone and Fab Strong started as residents in The Drink in 2002, played the infamous Skybar sunrise sets, alongside DJs including Dubfire, Benny Benassi and Steve Lawler, and ruled the Gallery on Saturdays during the late 2000s. In 2010, the versatile duo became main room co-residents, with Mark Oliver.

“We have opened up for almost every big name international DJ, and we’ve played a different set every time,” write the duo of their collective approach to mixing. “Nothing is ever pre-programmed or planned. We are very good at reading crowds, and adapt quickly as the energy and vibe changes. Ultimately, it’s always house music.”

Joe Manzone and Fab Strong with Mark Oliver in 2002 and 2015. Courtesy of Manzone & Strong.

Manzone & Strong (middle) with Deep Dish. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

Manzone & Strong appear at a variety of INK venues, but the Guv was especially close to their hearts, partly because of the talent booked. I asked them to talk favourites.

“Danny Tenaglia has always been an inspiration to us, both as a DJ and a talented producer. Known for his legendary marathon sets and quirky stage antics, he’s one of the very few who will bring a smile to your face while you dance to his beats. Deep Dish are giants. It’s amazing to watch them fuse different genres together while adding their own twists into the mix. John Digweed is another legend, and one of the nicest guys in the business. He’s a true gentleman and one of the smoothest mixers you’ll ever hear. His sets are always so advanced.”

One of the things about Guvernment was that you never knew who might show up. Prince was spotted many times. Harrison Ford took in a KoolHaus concert. Numerous Raptors’ players were said to be regulars.

“I used to love playing Skybar, on the rooftop,” says Oliver; “We did fashion events on Thursdays, with full-on fashion shows and a proper runway. One night I was playing, and Jamiroquai got up on the runway and started moonwalking in these gold Adidas trainers. It was completely unexpected.

“Another night, Mick Jagger had his 60^th birthday in Tanja, next to the Orange Room. The Stones were all there with their families. A lot of them came up into the DJ booth to hang out, and get up to some mischief.”

“Guvernment was always the highest standard of club in Toronto,” says Blu, who left the city for Miami in 2010 and now lives and works in Los Angeles. “Guvernment was an unstoppable force; there was nothing like it, and people knew about it all over the world.”

On the Skybar patio, circa 2007. Photo by André M Photography.

Who else worked there: No matter how high its production values or unique its rooms, Guvernment wouldn’t have been as successful without its teams of workers.

“I think it had a lot to do with the people Charles chose to work with,” says DJ Clymaxxx, now a star on-air mix show DJ at Toronto’s KiSS 92.5. “From management to staff, from DJs to promoters, Charles was able to identify people who shared his passion – and then let them do their job. That’s a great quality of successful leaders.”

“Charles knows what he’s doing, and has high standards,” confirms Oliver. “He attracts the best people in their fields. When you look at other clubs around town, most of the more experienced staff worked for him at some point.”

Case in point is Fatah and his Capture Group partner Ralf Madi. While Fatah worked The Drink in the late ‘90s, Madi promoted the Orange Room, main room and later produced the iDream events. The two met at Guvernment 16 years ago, and now own venues including Everleigh, Blowfish, and Maison Mercer together.

Chris Schroer and his now-husband Steve Ireson also worked together at Guvernment. Ireson – a nightclub veteran integral to venues including OZ, Go-Go, Industry and 5ive – promoted Boy’s Life and other parties at Guvernment while Schroer started as a busboy in 1998, and was later hired by Khabouth as a Creative Manager.

“It was my job to make sure the tech staff knew what was going on, that the go-go dancers were on time, that the DJs were feeling it, and the sponsors were happy,” says Schroer, who developed marketing ideas as well as concepts for décor and installations.

Former Guv Creative Manager Chris Schroer (right) with Frankie Knuckles. Photo courtesy of Schroer.

Guv lighting tech Alex ‘Billy’ Korittko (right) with his partner Jason Nardari.

Schroer, along with Jenn Woodcock, Alex Korittko and his then-new boyfriend Jason Nardari, came up with fresh thematic décor each Saturday for years. Guvernment’s longtime Technical Director Tom Doyle, early video artist Theo Buchinskas, and dance coordinator Pilar Cote also played integral roles in bringing Schroer’s installation ideas to life.

“Sometimes we would drape the entire KoolHaus in giant tank parachutes or white sheer curtains, and transform the whole space,” Schroer recalls. “We’d also come up with complete custom lighting rigs just for one night.

“Some of my favourite themes include the seven-year anniversary party when we chose ‘super hero.’ In KoolHaus, Tom installed a massive wall of par cans on stage. I worked with a comic book illustrator to create giant comic book panels about the Guvernment. Go-go dancers danced in front of video screens that projected videos of them, creating a feedback loop. In the main room, we installed a giant post-apocalyptic junk yard set, with about 20 used TVs embedded in pieces of twisted metal, with giant pipes steaming out fog. Capoeira dancers with big mohawks battled it out on stage, and Sofonda Cox did her impression of Storm from X-men. Deep Dish said it was their favourite installation at the time.

“Once we hung 300 candles from the ceiling of KoolHaus for a show with Frankie Knuckles and David Morales. Another time, I created a DJ booth out of scaffolding in the ceiling of the KoolHaus entrance that Sydney Blu played in. It was a little rickety, and Syd had to climb scaffolding in her heels, but she was a champ about it. Once, for a gay event sponsored by Benson & Hedges, we created a gold ski chalet themed stage set. I got our male go-go dancers to stage a fake porn shoot throughout the set, which was projected onto screens.”

Comic installation from Guvernment 7-year. Photo courtesy of Chris Schroer.

Schroer now co-owns Dundas West restaurant The Hogtown Cure with Ireson. Pilar Cote lives in Detroit where she DJs and makes music.

Both General Manager Peter Johns and Tech Director Doyle worked at Guvernment for its entire history, and at RPM before it. Doyle, who’s been in the biz for more than 30 years, having done lights and production for a variety of bands and worked at clubs also including The Diamond and Rock ‘n’ Roll Heaven, has an observation about Khabouth.

“The most shocking thing about Charles, compared to RPM’s management, was how much money he spent,” says Doyle. “The Guvernment’s lighting was very high end and quite advanced, compared to other venues, But I noticed over time that it didn’t matter how much lighting you have; if the music is not good, lights look like crap. Lighting enhances the music, and it should always be that way.”

Lighting techs working in a large club have a unique vantage point. While they’re matching lights, lasers and more to the music, they’re also paid to observe how crowds respond to the experience.

“Doing lighting at the Guv over the years, I have lived the evolution of EDM,” states Korittko, who echoes a point made earlier by Oliver. “Back when I started, it was all about the music and the experience. It was never about who was spinning, it was what they were spinning.

“In the last six years of EDM, clubs have had to change. To me, social media changed the purpose of clubs; they became [more like] concerts, with stage-focused lights, DJs placed front and centre, and huge video walls. It’s amazing to have been involved during this transformation and evolution of the scene. I will always remember and wish it was like when I started, but do embrace the change and future of lighting.”

Guvernment Technical Director Tom Doyle (left) with DJ Aristotle. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

Guvernment Audio Tech Tim Cromey (left) with photographer Shaya Golbabaei. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass.

Both Korittko and Doyle also make mention of Audio Tech Tim Cromey.

“Tim was Mark Oliver’s personal DJ tech,” credits Doyle. “Tim set up all the DJ rigs for artists over the last eight years. He worked his ass off.”

As for Khabouth, he is quick to praise Jamil Kamal and his security team.

“Handling thousands of people who’ve been partying and drinking, and partying again can be a nightmare. For me, music was my number one focal, but security was right up there. Jamil has played a huge role. He’s shaped and secured a big part of what we do.”

Kamal is very aware of security’s heightened significance at a venue the size of Guvernment, and of the public’s mixed sentiments.

“Security is a hard job that’s not very appreciated,” Kamal acknowledges. “There were a lot of people who were very critical, especially of our search policy.

“We always had a lot of people, and wanted to get them in quickly and safely. The searching became a problem when people got more sophisticated in how they hid their drugs, which was also the time when GHB exploded in Toronto. The girls were taught to go behind the waistband of pants, and shake the legs if people were wearing baggy jeans, and to go into the bras. People complained because it became a much more invasive search, but we did it for people’s safety, not because the staff was ignorant or getting off on it.”

Now Director of Risk Management for all of INK’s properties, festivals and events, Kamal started at Guvernment very close to its beginning, and is quick to mention other door staff who worked at the club for most of its history, including Roy, Omar, Young-Ho (who opened his own martial arts training studio), and security manager James Hwang.

INK’s Director of Risk Management Jamil Kamal (left) with Charles Khabouth (centre) and longtime security staffer Roy (right). Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass.

“Most of the staff was there for quite some time – we figured an average of eight years – so it was very family like,” says Khabouth. “There were 250 to 300 people working every weekend. The Guvernment and KoolHaus employed 275 people. The last night we were there, we had 46 people doing coat check. There were 83 security staff. We had 42 bars. It was an army.”

Many of the people interviewed mentioned family-like connections. For some, the Guv literally led to family.

“I met my wife there when she was working cash part-time,” says Kamal. “Now we have three children. One son learned to ride his bike in KoolHaus.”

“Guvernment has been part of so many people’s lives for so long,” says Oliver. “There are people who went there pretty much every week for a decade or more. People have met, and then later gotten engaged there. Whole generations grew up at the Guvernment.”

“The Guvernment nightclub had people who went every week like it was church,” emphasizes Syndey Blu, who has toured the globe since leaving Toronto, and now has numerous projects on the go, including her debut artist album to be released on Dutch label Black Hole Recordings this spring. She returned to play twice at Guvernment in the last year, including a jammed Gallery reunion in January.

“I have lived all over North America now, and I still have never seen a venue as big, or with as many rooms, as Guvernment. It was an adult mega complex, a playground with the best music this city has heard.”

At Labour of Love, 2009. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

What happened to it: Unlike many nightclubs, Guvernment did not close due to lack of business. When it was made public almost a year ago that the 2.8-acre piece of property the complex sat on had been sold to a developer, there was shock. The club was packed every weekend, its influence still widely felt.

“The Guvernment set the bar in terms of sound, lighting and design in Canada,” states Rob Lisi, who went on to co-own Turbo nightclub, and created Benson & Hedges Goldclub series, which toured top international DJs across the country. After seven years spent working in Switzerland, he recently returned to Toronto to join INK Entertainment as Director of Marketing.

“Guvernment was the largest indoor nightclub, and the most successful nightclub in Canada, bar none. Guvernment was a must-play venue for the biggest DJs in the industry, while also giving local acts a stage to play on. It played a major role in supporting electronic music, and never changed direction on Saturday nights. It just evolved with the music, which is pretty remarkable. Many may scrutinize, but few can accomplish what the Guvernment was able to achieve.”

Unfortunately, Charles Khabouth was unable to buy the property. He did manage to get a year’s extension on his lease. INK went all out in booking many months of special events and top draws. The club’s closing weeks included names like Deep Dish, Danny Tenaglia, DVBBS, and Zeds Dead. The final weekend (January 23 to 25) featured Armin van Buuren, Knife Party, and Deadmau5 in the Guv’s main room, along with Manzone & Strong and Mark Oliver (KoolHaus closed out January 31 with a pre-Carnival performance by soca act Kes the Band).

Oliver, deservedly, got to play the final set inside Guvernment on January 25^th, partly due to the insistence of Joel Zimmerman a.k.a. Deadmau5.

“I remember the first time he came to the club; he wasn’t Deadmau5, he was Joel, and was keen,” says an appreciative Oliver. “He still is. Joel has a lot of respect for Guvernment, and for me.

“Closing night felt like a dream, mainly due to the amount of love and emotion in the club.“

Deadmau5 on closing night. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

Mark Oliver with his new gold-plated decks on closing night. Photo by Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

That night, before the Deadmau5 set began, Zimmerman and members of the Toronto Rave Community presented Oliver with gifts purchased as the result of a crowdfunding campaign: a framed gold record and pair of limited edition, gold-plated Technics 1200 turntables.

Oliver played on the decks that very night (“They won’t be sitting in a trophy case. I’ll be playing on them forever.”), as he rounded out the eve with an all-vinyl set, which kicked off with classic crowd favourites including “Give Me Love” by Alcatraz, and the Tim Deluxe mash of Layo and Bushwacka’s “Love Story,” featuring Julie McKnight’s poignant vocals from “Finally.”

“At 7am, the place was still packed,” describes Oliver; “It didn’t look like a single person had left the entire night.”

Oliver rounded out the final set with “A percussive techno version of “The End” by The Doors,” and a white label 12-inch that incorporates the melody from “Con te Partirò” by Andrea Bocelli. First though, Oliver’s son Declan sang the operatic pop song, translating to ‘time to say goodbye,’ a cappella.

“There were about 1700 people in the room when Mark’s son started to sing,” recalls Khabouth. “The room went fucking silent. 1700 clubbers silent at 7:15am. People were taken by it. They wanted to be there until the end. That was really touching.”

Khabouth then brought things to a close, playing the 15-minute Patrick Cowley mix of Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love.”

Closing night video by Alex ‘Billy’ Korittko.

“Closing night was one of the most emotional days of my life,” says lighting tech Korittko; “It was like losing a family member. It was the first time I went down to the floor and danced in the middle with people who were customers, and had became close friends over the years. Toronto, North America and even the world have lost one of our best venues.”

Demolition of the Guvernment complex began in February, with much of the building now reduced to rubble. In its place will eventually stand a massive new waterfront development, with a mix of condos and office towers.

Demolition of the Guvernment complex, February 2015. Photo by Alex ‘Billy’ Korittko.

Demolition of KoolHaus in progress. Photo by Kurtis Hooper.

(Kurtis Hooper has documented the tear down and demolition in detail. Visit here for more photos.)

Oliver has accepted the change, and puts the events in perspective.

“It’s nice to have had a beginning and an end, much like the sets we weave,” says the DJ. “It’s like the rave scene; I saw it grow from a very small number of people to 15,000, and now VELD [INK’s signature electronic music festival] has 60,000-plus people. To have been there from ground zero is quite special.

“I think it came full circle,” Oliver observes; “We were at the peak of the rave days when The Guvernment opened. Now, the rave scene has evolved, and there’s a whole new generation.”

The question becomes: where will this new generation now go to soak up electronic sounds in Toronto? There’s no single answer, of course, as there are many shades of electronic dance music. Deeper takes on house and tech have steadily risen from the underground to influence pop music (think Disclosure, Keisza) and EDM (David Guetta and Steve Aoki are now also producing deep house) alike, but there are new sounds and trends emerging constantly.

The range of venues we have in Toronto reflects this. Soulful spots like Revival and the Assoon brothers’ Remix lean toward house music’s warehouse roots. Clubs like CODA, Ryze, and, to some degree, Maison Mercer are homes for the underground and emergent, particularly on the house, tech and techno fronts. Spaces including Wrongbar, The Hoxton, and Mod Club are important, but more eclectic and event driven.

These venues, and others, may see some spillover as the more musically adventurous among Guvernment’s regulars venture to new spots. But in the end, Khabouth is most likely to maintain his audiences through the booking of established electronic music DJs at a variety of INK Events and INK-owned clubs, including Uniun, Cube, and Product. INK also partnered with Live Nation to co-present both the Digital Dreams (June 27) and VELD (August 1-2) festivals this year.

There’s no doubt about it – big beats are big business, and INK has top billing.

Tune! (2007). Photo by André M Photography.

“To be honest, nobody can take the talent that Charles has been booking because Talal and INK have such a lock on so many of the best DJs in the world,” says Fatah. “I don’t think another venue is gong to be able to steal their thunder. It will just be a temporary break.”

(For those keeping track of Toronto clubs-turned-condos, Fatah also revealed that the building Maison Mercer is in has been to sold to a developer, and will eventually open as a condo hotel. Maison’s lease is up in March 2016, though Fatah does expect an extension.)

Khabouth, who is set to open his own Bisha Hotel and Residencies where Klub Max once stood, is a notoriously restless businessman so it comes as no surprise that he has some other big plans.

INK now owns Polson Pier venues including Sound Academy (formerly The Docks), Cabana and Solarium. They will close on April 1^st for extensive renovations. Before the year is out, a brand new event space will emerge there, complete with new name.

“I want to give the city a state of the art, next level of both clubbing and concert venue,” says Khabouth. “I’m focusing on design, comfort, making sure we have better air quality, the smell in the bathrooms not being there, stupid little things.

“The sound is going to be awesome. We’re doing the best we can so that from anywhere in the room, you can see the DJ or band. We’re raising the floor in the back of the space. We’re looking at where people enter, and where they go. There are bathrooms in every corner. I’m looking at everything, including service. I want people to walk out saying ‘That was a great experience.’”

I’m told we can expect great innovation, both inside the club and out. Hint: you’ll be able to take in city views all year ‘round.

Khabouth has also spoken broadly of a massive club he hopes to open before the decade is out. Though this plan appears far from firm at the moment, it calls to mind something Mark Oliver said.

“There are so many great DJs coming into town, and huge demand for club music in Toronto. In the short term, smaller clubs should thrive as there will be 3,000 people out there that aren’t going to Guvernment. I think there will also be a huge club – even bigger than Guvernment. A lot of DJs who used to play Guvernment regularly outgrew it. Look at Armin Van Buuren, Avicii or Deadmau5 – they’ve had to go and play stadiums. I think a club that could hold 10,000 people could be busy every week.”

Only time will tell, but one thing is for certain: there will always be new generations of clubbers looking for places to call their own.

Thank you to participants Alex ‘Billy’ Korittko, Charles Khabouth, Chris Schoer, DJ Clymaxxx, Jamil Kamal, Manzone & Strong, Marcus Visionary, Mark Oliver, Sydney Blu, Rob Lisi, Tom Doyle, Zark Fatah, as well as to André M Photography, Elaine Quan, Kotsy, Kurtis Hooper, and Tobias Wang of VisualBass Photography.

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

Article originally published February 12, 2013 by The Grid online (thegridto.com).

The Ballinger brothers – owners of clubs including the Big Bop and Boom Boom Room – were not known for creating sophisticated spots. That changed with the chic, tri-level super-club that brought long line-ups to the Entertainment District in the early 1990s.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Go-Go, 250 Richmond St. W.

Years in operation: 1990-1993

History: Though based in Toronto for less than a decade, the brothers Ballinger made a long-lasting impression. The “Rock ‘n’ Roll Farmers” from Dundalk were entrepreneurs who’d originally opened a variety of venues in Cambridge, Ontario in the late 1970s.

In 1986, Lon, Stephen, Doug, and Peter Ballinger opened the multi-leveled Big Bop club at Queen and Bathurst. The wildly popular hangout would anchor the southeast corner for over two decades, and was the cornerstone of the club empire the Ballingers would build. Their Boom Boom Room, opened at Queen and Palmerston in 1988, was much smaller in size, but was trendsetting with its mix of rock, alternative, house, and queer nights. With a few years’ experience in T.O. and a staff that was willing and able to bounce between venues, the Ballingers soon set their sites on 250 Richmond St. W. for an ambitious new venture.

Richmond and Duncan was not yet an obvious choice of location. After-hours club Twilight Zone had closed just the year before, and Charles Khabouth’s Stilife, located directly across the street, was showing signs of slowing. Beyond these venues, and after-hours rave destination 23 Hop, which would soon open at 318 Richmond St. W., the area was still largely deserted at night.

But with Doug Ballinger at the wheel, the brothers would develop a 14,000 square foot, tri-level warehouse building into one of the most innovative and influential clubs Toronto would experience in the 1990s.

“I had never met anyone as driven and excited about anything as Doug,” says DJ Mark Oliver, who was convinced by Ballinger to leave his residency at Stilife in order to spin five nights per week at Go-Go.

Ballinger custom-designed one floor—what would become known as The White Room—with Oliver’s forward-thinking dance music in mind. Above that would be the large Theatre Room, with a lounge to be built on the first floor, and a rooftop patio—among the city’s first at a nightclub—complete with water fountains and a barbeque hut. This was to be a very different experience from earlier Ballinger creations.

Go-Go manager Steve McMinn with Kim Ackroyd Oka on the rooftop patio. Photo courtesy of Ackroyd Oka.

“The previous Ballinger ventures had been built according to his older brothers’ specs and tastes, but now it was Doug’s chance to shine,” recalls Oliver.

“The Ballingers were all amazingly intelligent in their own unique ways,” says Boris Khaimovich, a Toronto nightclub veteran who worked at both the Boom and the Bop before becoming involved with the construction of Go-Go, where he would head security and, later, manage.

“They were a brilliant team,” describes Khaimovich. “Doug would conceptualize everything, Lon would find a way to finance it, and Steve would build it. [Writer’s note: Peter wasn’t as actively involved.] They were creative, and they were true club owners, with all of the eccentricities involved.”

Go-Go opened to a capacity crowd on July 13, 1990, with the photography of Floria Sigismondi on display.

Go-Go Member card. Courtesy of Jeremy Markoe.

Why it was important: Go-Go took the Ballingers’ tried-and-true multi-floor format to new heights. It was, at the time, their most ambitious and upscale club project, and its success influenced not only numerous future nightclub builds in Toronto, it also cemented the approach that the brothers themselves would later apply to their New York mega-club, Webster Hall.

“The Ballingers took a building and they made a different club on every floor, which hadn’t been seen here before, except at their Big Bop,” says the straight-shooting Khaimovich during a lengthy phone discussion.

“The Bop was a cash cow; it was like there was a money press in the basement, and they just kept printing it. The Boom was the Ballingers’ first attempt at getting into a smaller, more niche market club. Go-Go was a New York style club in downtown Toronto.”

Khaimovich had himself worked at a number of New York clubs, as well as at Toronto’s renowned Yorkville spot The Copa, during the late 1980s and was impressed by Go-Go.

“There was nothing like it here before. Up to that point, you had RPM, The Copa, The Diamond, and Big Bop as the only big-venue clubs in the city. RPM was in its decline, The Copa was allowed to get rundown, The Diamond did a lot more live music, and the Bop was basically college students getting shitfaced.

“Go-Go was the first club downtown that could easily hold a thousand people, and it was stunning. The lighting was spectacular—we had intelligent lighting—and the sound was solid. The staff was dressed up; they weren’t just wearing black T-shirts. Bodies were being shown, the male bartenders were dressed up, and doormen had to wear a suit and tie.”

Much of Go-Go’s success can be attributed to the club’s stark contrasts, including the aesthetic and feel of each different room. The first-floor lounge was intimate and warm, complete with a large wooden bar and windows looking out onto the street. The spacious second-floor White Room was bold and bright. It was entirely white—the walls, bars, DJ booth, bathrooms, statues, speakers, even the staff’s clothing.

The White Room. Photo courtesy of Kim Ackroyd Oka.

“The White Room was a huge departure from any club of its time,” recalls Oliver, the room’s sole resident for a full year. “Everything was white. Back then, most DJ booths were stuck in a corner of the club. Doug, however, wanted me to be the focal point, so he had the semicircular DJ booth raised eight feet from the floor, and placed in the middle of the east wall.”

From his booth, Oliver would blend rare groove, disco, house, and early techno tracks. He recalls playing loads of early Strictly Rhythm singles, especially Logic’s “The Warning.” Other Oliver anthems heard in the otherworldly room included “Sweat” by Jay Williams, Nightmares on Wax’ “Dextrous,” Sweet Exorcist’s “Testone,” and another early Warp Records’ smash, “Tricky Disco.”

“That room had an ethereal feel to it,” Oliver recalls. ”Not only from it being entirely white, but also from the religious statues affixed to the bars. I could never tell my mum that I swore the Virgin Mary one had real eyes, and was staring at me from across the room all night. Perhaps playing five nights a week in there was a little too much for my sanity.”

One floor up was the Theatre Room, Go-Go’s largest space. During renovations, structural beams had been pulled out of the building and replaced, in order to raise this room’s already high ceiling by an additional six feet. The Theatre Room was painted a rich, dark burgundy, had faux columns on the walls, huge mirrors and multiple bars.

“Where the White Room was meant to be housey, cool and slick, the Theatre Room was meant to be heavy and pounding,” describes Khaimovich.

DJ James ‘St. Bass’ Vandervoort with bartender Michael Quintas. Photo courtesy of Cheryl Butson.

“The sound was amazing in there,” says James Vandervoort a.k.a. DJ James St. Bass, the Theatre Room’s main resident for Go-Go’s entire history. “There were two massive Electrovoice bass bins, which could knock all the bottles off of the bar. And did!”

Vandervoort, who’d gotten his start as a DJ at the Boom Boom Room, developed his skills and reputation spinning four-to-five nights a week in the raised corner booth at Go-Go. Like Oliver, Vandervoort had his ears tuned to the underground but, as St. Bass, he was also appreciated for his ability to entertain any audience. His crates contained loads of crossover faves, ranging from the likes of Prince, Deee-Lite, and RuPaul to MK’s “Burning,” Ce Ce Peniston’s “Finally,” 2 In A Room’s “Wiggle It,” and numerous Steve “Silk” Hurley remixes.

“I rarely took my eyes off the floor,” says Vandervoort of his approach. “I watched the crowd, to try and make ‘em scream! Your perfect mix and rare tunes don’t mean squat if no one is partying on the dancefloor.”

“I love James St. Bass,” enthuses Khaimovich. “To me, he’s one of the greatest DJs ever. He could make dead men dance because he had a desire to make people dance. There was no ego in James. When you had a combination of Mark on one floor and James on the other on a Saturday night, well you can’t beat that. It was beautiful.”

Initially open Thursdays through Sundays—Wednesday night’s infamous Go-Go Men would open that fall—Go-Go took a few weeks to build a steady clientele, and then caught fire. The Ballingers were also ahead of the curve in programming nights that would appeal to vastly different crowds, and it paid off. While weekends held more mainstream appeal and Thursdays were house-heavy, Wednesdays and Sundays would underscore Go-Go’s broad reach.

“One of my favourite nights was Fast Lane Sundays, with great rock in the Theatre Room, and house in the White Room,” recalls Steve Ireson, a longtime contributor to Toronto nightlife who started working for the Ballingers in 1991.

Flyer courtesy of Steve Ireson.

“I used to drive in from Hamilton every Sunday, before I started working at Go-Go. It was great for me, especially because my ‘straight’ boyfriend at the time was more of a rocker, and I loved both. Surprisingly, the two crowds mixed just fine.”

On Sundays, DJ Vania and host/co-promoter Kevin “KC” Carlisle rocked the Theatre Room. They were also the team behind Boom Boom Room’s wildly successful Sgt. Rocks Wednesdays, and brought the concept to Go-Go.

James St. Bass, K.C., and Vania in a Sgt. Rocks promo photo shot at Go-Go. Image courtesy of James Vandervoort.

“Working Sunday nights with Vania spinning was the place to be for me,” says Cheryl Butson, a Go-Go bartender for its full run. “Vania and lighting guy Jimmy Lynch did a great job of taking a big club room and giving it a real dark, underground feel.”

Like Ireson, Butson appreciated Go-Go’s versatility, and the variety of people there on Sundays.

“On one floor there would be house music, with people dancing and dressed to the nines, while on the next floor it was heavy rock, long hair, and leather jackets—with a total mix on the rooftop.”

The single-monikered Vania tells me he’s “remarkably hazy” about his many months of spinning at Go-Go, but especially enjoyed DJing in the more intimate setting of the lounge.

“Honestly,” says Vania, “I had my eye on New York, and wanted to get out of Toronto.” (He would relocate to N.Y.C. to work for the Ballingers late in 1991.)

Vandervoort, who brought the house to Go-Go’s White Room on Sundays, was also the anchor resident at the club’s other signature night: Go-Go Men on Wednesdays. He played in the Theatre Room while Oliver, who’d been a resident at Tazmanian Ballroom’s popular Rock & Roll Fag Bar in the late ’80s, DJed on the second floor.

Poster image courtesy of James ‘St. Bass’ Vandervoort.

Go-Go Men built on the success that St. Bass and host/promoter Steven Wong had had with Boys Night Out on Thursdays at the Boom, and would become Toronto’s biggest gay weekly. While Wednesdays took a few weeks to build, they would soon attract crowds of 600-1,000 party boys, fashionistas, warehouse heads, and women each week.

“The thing that gave Go-Go Men that extra boost was that Halloween fell on a Wednesday our first year, and everybody came out for that, in full costume,” recalls social butterfly Wong, then a costume designer and co-promoter of warehouse parties.

“It was very over the top,” he says. “People didn’t dress up in monster outfits or whatever. The thing to do was to emulate the supermodels and what was going on in fashion. If you were going out in drag, you were going out as Linda Evangelista wearing Chanel couture or something. At that point, vogueing and supermodels were very popular, and everyone wanted to be glamorous. Go-Go was very glamorous.”

Promo image courtesy of LAEddy

With visits from fashion-magazine editors, designers including Marc Jacobs and Michael Kors, and gay celebs including Elton John and Rupert Everett, Go-Go Men ran for more than two full years.

“Friends who worked in stores on Bloor Street told me that people would come in and buy special outfits just for their Wednesday nights,” says Wong, now half of womenswear label Greta Constantine. “They’d go in looking like a million dollars, only to get totally trashed.”

“I think Go-Go Men is where I developed my liking for tequila,” shares Ireson who, as a manager, had special duties required of him.

“I would have to help the hot shooter boys into their tequila-belt harnesses. I also have some fond memories of hot-tub parties on the rooftop patio. Go-Go Men was an absolute blast, with line-ups down the street.”

Go-Go, in fact, became notorious for long line-ups, then largely unheard of in the area.

“Go-Go was the first club to bring really big crowds,” states Khaimovich. “On weekends, we had lines all the way around to the CHUM building’s entranceway at Queen and John. Long-weekend Sundays were absolutely insane. We would open up at 8 p.m., and by then, a line-up five-or-six people deep ran to John.”

Hot dog vendors certainly took note.

“That was before all the licensing came in for their carts,” Khaimovich says. “We used to have hot-dog wars outside the club; they used to pull knives on each other, fighting for spots. We’d collect rent money off the hot dog guys for the club—they were making money off of our crowds. I was the head doorman, and worked with a very good-looking farmboy, named Owen Young, at the front door. One night, a hot dog guy didn’t want to pay the club so we took his cart, and put it in the middle of Richmond Street.”

Go-Go Bartenders Cheryl Butson (left) and Allan with cigarette girl Bastian. Photo courtesy of Butson.

Soon, with nightclubs like Klub Max opening around the corner, on Peter, Richmond was busy with traffic.

“Within two to three years, there were many clubs in the area, like Limelight and later Joker,” says Vandervoort. “But after Stilife, Go-Go was the place that anchored what would become the ‘club district.’ Even during the time we were open at Go-Go, I felt like I was living a lyric from Nina Hagen’s “New York New York”—“The newest club is opening up, the newest club is opening up…” Everyone wanted to try and repeat the success from the moment Go-Go opened, it seemed.”

Very few large, mainstream clubs would be such a hotbed for house, techno, and emerging sounds from the electronic underground. Vandervoort—by then also playing 23 Hop, warehouse parties and hosting his Harddrive mix show on CIUT—worked to “remain as cutting edge as possible for a mainstream club.

“I could drop Mike Dunn’s ‘Magic Feet,’ The Underground Solution’s ‘Luv Dancin’‘ or rave-y tunes like Psychotropic’s ‘Hypnosis‘ because I had seen people go nuts for them at underground parties.”

Oliver offers another window onto this exhilarating time in Toronto club history.

“A crew from Windsor showed up at Go-Go one night and handed me a stack of test presses from a brand new label called Plus 8. These early Richie Hawtin and John Acquaviva productions caused quite a stir. A revolution was bubbling under the surface in The White Room, about to explode two blocks away at 318 Richmond.”

Fired suddenly one late summer night in 1991 by “a well-lubricated” Lon Ballinger for not having Ballinger’s specific request on hand to play long after the club had closed (“he demanded I play a Stradivarius waltz.”), Oliver would take his record crates to 318 Richmond and help create local history.

“Leaving Go-Go was probably the most pivotal moment of my career,” says the DJ, now long synonymous with The Guvernment’s Saturday nights. “The following week, Wesley Thuro asked me to take over 23 Hop on Saturdays and, within a few short weeks, Toronto’s rave scene was truly born there.”

“Mark Oliver is one of the greatest DJs that this city has ever produced,” says Khaimovich. “Mark could see the future, and had an edge.”

Go-Go bartenders Michel Quintas, Cheryl Butson (centre), Kerry Mcinerney. Photo courtesy of Butson.

Who else played/worked there: After Oliver re-located, a then-unknown DJ, Kevin Williams, was hired to play Wednesdays through Saturdays in the White Room. It was his first club residency, and he came heavy with the house and hip-hop.

“Thursdays were my favourite,” says Williams. “They started off as a throwaway night—empty, especially in the White Room. Since I didn’t have anyone to play to, I would go through a stack of new house tracks, most of which I’d purchased that same evening from Play De Record.

“I met Abel Sylla—every house DJ’s fave dancer—and Kenny Glasgow, and they hung out. They helped spread the word, and in a period of four-to-five weeks, we emptied RPM’s disco nights, and brought everyone to the White Room. Not a single flyer was handed out.”

Many other bricklayers of Toronto’s house music community—like Nick Holder, Dino & Terry, Matt C, Peter, Tyrone & Shams, and Eric Ling—were soon seen at Go-Go on Thursdays.

“They brought me into the underground house scene,” credits Williams. “Prior to this, I had no idea you could go somewhere after 2 a.m.

“Go-Go Thursdays also brought a lot of different ethnicities together,” he points out. “The crowd was definitely a new urban mix of young club-heads-to-be.”

At a time when management at many large nightclubs would fully discourage DJs from playing hip-hop, Williams deftly mixed it into his sets.

“One busy Thursday, Steve Ireson came up to the booth during a hip-hop set,” Williams recalls. “Everyone was jumping up and down like kids in a bouncy castle. Black Sheep had already skipped twice, so I started the track over from the top. Steve asked me calmly, ‘Everything okay?’ and then asked matter-of-factly, ‘Hey, do you think you can tone it down just a bit?’ This was odd because he was very liberal, and never asked me to cut the hip-hop, so I wondered why. He said, ‘Well, I was just downstairs, and I can see the ceiling buckling up and down.’”

DJ Mark Falco was also a key resident later into Go-Go’s history. Having played at popular gay clubs like Komrads and Bar One, Falco was initially hired to work lights in the Theatre Room, complementing the sounds of St. Bass at Go-Go Men. Soon after, Falco would DJ in the White Room on Wednesdays, and eventually played his then-signature tunes, like Aly-us’ “Follow Me,” Kym Sims’ “Too Blind To See It,” and Liberty City’s “Some Lovin’” several nights a week until the club’s close.

Go-Go dancer. Photo courtesy of Kim Ackroyd Oka.

“Standout Go-Go memories include Stephen Wong and Rommel doing runway in knockoff Mugler motorcycle corsets, and other White Room happenings,” says Falco, a sought-after DJ to this day. “I always loved that room on men’s night for the breakout bus-stop lines, and for the fierce vogue/runway action that would happen late at night.”

Vandervoort adds some cherished moments of his own, experienced at Go-Go primarily on Sundays.

“I met a lot of heroes, like Juan Atkins and Larry Heard a.k.a. Mr. Fingers, who was in on a Sunday night with Robert Owens. Roger S came and danced to my set!  And I had a great chat with Neil Tennant from Pet Shop Boys, who had a private party in the White Room one night after their concert. He came up to the booth and we chatted between mixes for half an hour. At one point, I said, ‘I think I have one of your favourite records here in my disco crate,’ and pulled out Nuance’s ‘Love Ride.’ He howled, and said, ‘You know, we based our whole first album on that track.’ You can’t ever forget what it’s like to have those kinds of heroes in your DJ booth.”

Go-Go busboys Jeremy Markoe and Dave Baker. Photo courtesy of Cheryl Butson.

But it was not all fun ‘n’ games for Go-Go DJs and staff. Working for the Ballingers could be challenging, by many accounts.

“So much of Go-Go was up and down—the stairs, the crowds, the fun, the not-fun,” admits Vandervoort. “Never for me before or since has a club so perfectly fit the cliché of ‘It was the best and worst of times.’ I knew I was fortunate to work so much but, also, if you worked there, you knew how many people came and went, and under what strange circumstances.”

“The Ballingers were notorious for firing their managers,” confirms Ireson. “I alone was fired three times—and hired back twice.”

“For all their faults, when they were sober, the Ballingers actually treated their staff spectacularly,” offers Khaimovich. “When they were drunk, they were erratic. If they kissed your forehead, you’d either get a raise or get fired. I was fired three times by them—twice hired back, the first time with a big raise.”

Go-Go bar staff Ian Bullen and Drew Rowsome. Photo courtesy of Cristy-Jane Byrom.

As evidence, many Go-Go staffers also worked at other Ballinger clubs, including original managers Mike Ibrahim, Anthony Rofosco, and Steve McMinn. Bartenders including Butson, Cristy Byrom, and Drew Rowsome also worked other Ballinger clubs, as did bar-backs Jeremy Markoe, Barry Gerreau, and “Super Dave” Baker. (Markoe even followed the Ballingers to New York, where he now resides.)

Many other members of the Go-Go staff became familiar faces on this city’s nightscape. Bartenders Daniel and Michel Quintas would later partner with Khaimovich to open Insomnia on Bloor, while Rosemary Martin and Holly Batson later worked at The Guvernment, and door man James Benecke opened both the Kat Club and Apothecary Music Bar.

Bartender Holly Batson at Go-Go. Photo courtesy of Cristy-Jane Byrom.

Most interviewed for this story mention that the Go-Go team was tight.

“Some of my fondest memories of Go-Go are of how we, as a staff, would go out all together after closing up,” recalls Ireson. “We’d show up at boozecans or warehouse parties as a crew.”

After Ireson was fired the final time, he went on to manage at clubs including Factory and OZ, where both Williams and Vandervoort would DJ, as well as 5ive and CiRCA. Go-Go alumni was hired at each venue. Ireson is now co-owner (with husband Chris Schroer) of deli-café The Hogtown Cure.

Vandervoort summarizes a statement expressed by many interviewees, albeit from a DJ’s perspective.

“I loved the first two years at Go-Go and had some of my best and most cherished nights there. It was also DJ boot camp—a total woodshed workout. I was very burned out and ready for a change when the end came, and I never worked exclusively in one club or for one owner ever again. It was definitely a case of all my eggs in one basket, and, trust me, they cracked!”

Despite requests, Lon Ballinger declined to comment for this story.

Steve Ireson (left) and Boris Khaimovich (right) with busboy David Baker.
Photo courtesy of Cheryl Butson.

What happened to it: “Go-Go was like a comet,” says Khaimovich of the club’s trajectory. “It came out of nowhere, was shining so bright that you would get blinded, and it died really fast.

“Go-Go started crashing within two years. We’d been doing such high numbers that I think everybody had seen it, done it, and moved on to something else. By that point, other spots had opened up.” (Khaimovich himself would go on to manage Limelight and now resides in Northumberland County where he indulges his love of horses.)

“Also, after about a year-and-a-half or so, the Ballingers started spending a lot more time in New York, on building Webster Hall. Their focus changed, and honestly, Webster Hall sucked the money. You could practically see suitcases leaving Go-Go and going to Webster Hall.”

Go-Go ad from 1992, courtesy of Cheryl Butson.

Attempts to revive Go-Go included painting the White Room and renaming it The Black Angel Room. The Ballingers’ attention was greatly divided. Not only had they purchased New York club The Ritz in 1990, and begun the massive undertaking of re-opening it as Webster Hall, they’d also bought The Courthouse on Adelaide East, and Mississauga all-ages club Superstars, which they opened as The World in June of 1992.

“The Ballingers were very aggressively building an empire, and I think they got spread too thin,” says Vandervoort, now a DJ who plays selective gigs, including the Black Crack Funk Attack monthly, and works by day in student support services at a city college.

“To their credit, they got what they wanted with Webster Hall,” concludes Vandervoort. “To my mind, that venture was built and financed off a lot of people’s blood, sweat, and tears at Go-Go and the Bop.”

Vania, who DJed at Webster Hall for its first six years, returned home in 1998, and now spins at venues including the Bovine Sex Club on Fridays.

“After seven years in New York with the Ballingers, it became a little wearing. But the last time I was there, they were getting keys to the city, and Webster Hall had been designated a historic landmark. Americans love a success story.”

Go-Go closed quietly in the summer of 1993. 250 Richmond St. W. soon re-opened as Whiskey Saigon where Go-Go veteran DJs including Oliver, Williams, Falco, and Vania all played. Joe Nightclub followed. The building now houses the head office of Bell Media’s Radio operations, including the studios of CHUM-FM and Flow 93.5.

250 Richmond Street W. in early 2013.

Thank you to participants Boris Khaimovich, Cheryl Butson, James Vandervoort, Kevin Williams, Mark Falco, Mark Oliver, Steve Ireson, Stephen Wong, and Vania, as well as Cristy-Jane Byrom, Jeremy Markoe, Kim Oka Ackroyd, and LAEddy.

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

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 February 16, 2012 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

In this instalment of her ongoing nightlife-history series, Denise Benson looks back at the first club creation of Toronto nightlife magnate Charles Khabouth. At just 22 years old, he opened Club Z in 1984, but its groundbreaking legacy lives on to this day.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Club Z, 11A St. Joseph Street

Years in operation: 1984-1989

History: Tracing the history of this city’s nightlife tells us much about its physical transformation and urban development. Nowhere is this more obvious than at the corner of Yonge and St. Joseph. Here, we’ve recently seen a few significant buildings largely demolished as part of their ongoing metamorphosis into Five Condos.

I had often wondered about the physical similarities between the original red brick buildings at 610 Yonge, 5 and 11 St. Joseph, and 15 St. Nicholas, but only recently noticed the plaque on 11’s easterly side. It turns out that moving and storage company Rawlinson Cartage built all of them, with the warehouse space of 11 St. Joseph constructed between 1895 and 1898.

Gay Torontonians who socialized in the 1970s and early ‘80s will remember 11A St. Joseph as popular all-ages discotheque Club Manatee, a three-level spot where the DJ booth was in the bow of a boat hanging above the crowd.

In September of 1984, directly after the Manatee’s closing, a 22-year-old Charles Khabouth debuted as a nightlife entrepreneur by opening Club Z in that very location. Now known as the CEO of INK Entertainment, whose many impressive properties include The Guvernment, La Société Bistro and the Bisha hotel/condo project, Khabouth started with just $30,000 and a desire to fuse his love of music, fashion and dance.

At the time, unlicensed (hence all-ages) after hours clubs were more common. Twilight Zone had opened in 1980 and was a bold new force on Richmond Street; Kongo Club (later Club Focus) would soon open on Hagerman; and Club Z neighbours Le Tube and Voodoo drew large fashion-conscious crowds, both gay and straight, with blends of new wave and alt disco.

“Back in those days, most nightclubs were limited to the confines of hotels,” recalls Khabouth. “In the early ’80s, the St. Joseph Street area was known to be the more underground social hub of nightlife. That area at night had an energy and vibrancy about it—an aura that you couldn’t get in hotel clubs. It had a bohemian feel, which is why it appealed to me.”

Khabouth describes Club Z’s aesthetic as “Do it yourself industrial design,” with much of the décor reportedly purchased at Canadian Tire. The club was bare bones, dark, but splashed with neon paint and squiggly lasers projected onto screens. It was multi-level, with two dancefloor/stage areas, high ceilings and a raised DJ booth accessed by a ladder. The back of the club contained a juice bar and video games like Pac-Man.

Club Z’s soundsystem was huge, and the space was reportedly licensed for 700-plus, but attendance was dauntingly low at first—until Khabouth rented a tiger to build buzz.

“After only being open for two months, and having no budget for advertising a Halloween event, I had to be creative,” he explains. “I had heard about a zoo up north that had tigers, and before I knew it, I had one delivered to the club. My office at the time had a large window and was street level, so it made for the perfect observation space. It caused quite the commotion.”

That’s an understatement. The tiger smashed the window in the early morning, and though still confined by a metal grille, it drew large crowds of people, the police, and the Humane Society. The incident made headlines and Club Z became a sensation.

Charles Khabouth was only 22 years old when he opened Club Z in 1984.

Why it was important: Club Z was one of Toronto’s first clubs to feature breaking sounds in dance music, with house mixed alongside freestyle, electro, early hip-hop and new wave. Khabouth himself took regular trips to New York, Detroit and Chicago “To hunt for new sounds in record shops.”

Music was central to creating an atmosphere that brought together a diverse downtown crowd Friday-through-Sunday, with Sundays a dedicated gay night that included drag shows.

“The crowd was very urban and eclectic,” recalls Toronto house music bricklayer Dino Demopoulos, who got his DJ start at Z, playing with twin brother Terry on occasional Fridays.

“There were a lot of alternative types there, the kind of freaks that you only had in the ’80s,” he says lovingly.

“During the Charles years Club Z was very hip downtown,” agrees journalist, DJ and then-Starsound Records employee Johnbronski, a regular at the club who later tended to its sound system.

“Gay, straight, new wave, hip-hop, disco, black, white, Chinese, Indian—it didn’t matter because the music came first. Remember, no booze was sold; it was just a big warehouse type space for dancing to some serious bass. The shared love of hip-hop and dance music culture was a very big part. You really needed to have an ear to the streets to know what was up back then.

“It was a place where a teenager could escape,” Johnbronski adds. “You’d sneak out of your house at midnight and head downtown, meeting and making new friends that you’d only see between 1-to-6am on weekends. Teachers and school friends thought I was making up stories about an all-ages dance club that opened at 11pm.”

Khabouth, who could often be found by the club’s front door, built his own career foundations at Z. He’s clearly proud of it to this day.

“I believe that Club Z pioneered a whole new music direction and a generation of club culture in Toronto. That’s why I am still looking for the latest sounds, and still find it crucial to invest in the best sound systems. Music is everything, and it’s the soul of any club.”

Club Z’s rise, in fact, can be heavily attributed to its star DJ: JC of the Sunshine Sound Crew, a Z resident from 1985-1988, long before he helmed the Phoenix’ famous Planet Vibe Sundays.

“Club Z was really all about JC,” says Demopoulos. “His talent put Z on the map because the club was known for having a shit-hot DJ playing all the best electronic music in Toronto, in my opinion. Though he didn’t play that much house, he covered a lot of ground musically, from Kraftwerk and Alexander Robotnik to New York electro and freestyle stuff like Debbie Deb’s ‘Look Out Weekend,‘ and just a lot of great club music like Denise Edwards, Joyce Sims, Nu Shooz, Madonna, and Colonel Abrams.

“JC was also the first DJ that we saw who had a drum machine—a Roland 808—up in the booth, and he would do much more than just play records. He was super professional at what he did, the most technically perfect DJ we had ever heard, so he really raised the bar for what a DJ could and should do in a club. He was that good.”

Dino & Terry were Club Z regulars, not only listening to and learning from JC, but also throwing occasional parties there and guest DJing alongside Dave Ahmad during his Friday night tenure between 1986-87.

“We’d been DJing at house parties, school parties and things like that,” says Demopoulos; “But this was our first real club, playing the kind of music that really changed our lives and put all the rest of our music career things in motion.

“At the time, pretty much only the Twilight Zone was playing underground house from Chicago, Detroit techno and New York stuff, and we were pretty crazy collectors of anything in the genre. We would take all the latest and greatest white labels and hard to find stuff to play at Club Z on Fridays. A fun story: we used to make sure to pour very stiff drinks for Dave Ahmad so that he would get really drunk and let us play for longer. He was so cool, and really progressive with the underground music at the time. Although JC would play some underground house stuff, Dave and us played a lot more of it.”

As for Ahmad himself, he’s one of Toronto’s true dance music pioneers. From 1981-2000, he hosted a variety of programs on CKLN 88.1FM, most notably influential Sunday afternoon program Dave’s Dance Music. He also DJed at Toronto hotspots including The Copa, Twilight Zone and Fresh.

“We played mainly house, but threw in some heavier electro and some wave; Kate Bush’s ‘Running Up That Hill‘ was a big one then,” Ahmad recalls of his Fridays at Z. “The crowd loved their music, but took time to rock out to anything new.

“I remember breaking out ‘Erotic City‘ by Prince there. Half of the crowd went nuts while the others didn’t know what hit them. [Dancer/choreographer] Steve Bolton was in the crowd, and ran up to the booth. I showed him the cut—it had just come in at Starsound that night. So the crowd was not all trendsetters, but they loved their music. Hot clothes too!”

Charles Khabouth (far left) and friends at Club Z

Who else played there: Other Club Z residents included electro, freestyle and new wave DJs Chico and Sherwin, who also opened popular after hours spot Amadeus right around the corner.

“I used to make my pilgrimage down to Z to hear Sherwin,” says Johnbronski. “I loved the way he mixed stuff like ‘I Love You‘ by Yello with Pet Shop Boys and Depeche Mode—those were essentially house beat records before house was even a concept. He was ahead of the curve on that, and mixed on three turntables, taking pieces from here and there, and layering in acapellas.”

International guest DJs and performers at Club Z included Grandmaster Flash, Newcleus, De La Soul, and Joyce Sims.

Also interesting to note is that famed New York nightclub operator and restaurateur Jeffrey Jah got his start producing parties at Club Z.

11A St. Joseph Street today

What happened to it: Charles Khabouth sold Club Z to Warren Webley, father of Sunshine Sound Crew and owner of Sunshine Sound and Lighting, in 1987.

“I had opened up Stilife and needed to focus strictly on that,” says Khabouth of the trendsetting, sophisticated spot he opened at Richmond and Duncan in 1986. “Although I was still involved with Club Z, it broke my heart to sell it.”

While DJ JC continued to play at Club Z, a lot of the house heads switched their allegiances fully to Twilight Zone.

Johnbronski, who began to work for Warren Webley as a DJ, sound tech and occasional doorman, recalls that his boss—also owner of Club Focus on Hagerman Street—closed Club Z’s doors for a period. It was re-opened as the new Club Focus in 1989. By that time, the area had become much rougher, with vandalism, muggings and overdoses all associated with the St Joseph Street clubs. Racist and homophobic skinheads were also a problem.

A young man named Jamie Withers was, in fact, stabbed and killed inside Club Z in 1989. His death is said to have prompted Webley to close Club Z and later re-open the space as Focus.

“My memory is that the fights and stuff were mushrooming and that I wanted to stay away from there,” says Johnbronski. “It was at a time when Toronto was beginning to go through a real urban expansion. I mean, think about it—it’s Toronto after hours, it’s near Yonge Street and we’re talking before Richmond and the whole club district existed. That area attracted a lot of everybody.”

11A St. Joseph later became dark after hours spot Playground. In the late ‘90s, Steve Ireson and partners cleaned the space up and opened it as The Pad. Between 2002 and 2004, 11 St. Joseph was redeveloped for residential use. It’s now marketed as Eleven Residencies.

As for Charles Khabouth and INK, they recently launched Chroma inside The Guvernment. Their newest nightclub, Cube, will open at the end of February, replacing INK’s Ultra club at 312 Queen West. Many Torontonians will most strongly associate this address with the BamBoo, a legendary restaurant and live music venue that was at the heart of Queen West for decades.

Thank you to all who contributed to this piece, including Paul E. Lopes, Hal Wong, Steve Ireson, Carlos Mondesir and Chris Torella. Sadly, despite much searching, very little photographic evidence of Club Z could be found. Please let us know if you have photos!

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

Article originally published February 1, 2012 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

In this instalment of her ongoing nightlife-history series, Denise Benson looks back at the notoriously decadent late-’80s dance club that brought metalheads and rap fans together, installed a hot tub and cages on the dancefloor, and effectively brought the “queer” to Queen West.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Boom Boom Room, 650 ½ Queen St. W.

Years in operation: 1988-1993

History: One cannot discuss this city’s nightlife history at any length without mention of the brothers Ballinger: Lon, Stephen, Douglas and Peter. The self-described “Rock ‘n’ Roll Farmers” from Dundalk, Ontario ruled the roost in mid-to-late-1980s Toronto. In 1986, they converted the former Holiday Tavern at Queen and Bathurst into The Big Bop, a multi-floor rock and dance club that packed in the student crowd. Its success paved the way for future Ballinger club endeavours, including Go-Go, Rockit and, at the northeast corner of Queen and Palmerston, Boom Boom Room.

Previously, 650 ½ Queen West was home, at street level, to live blues venue The Pine Tree Tavern, with a hotel above. In 1988, the Ballingers bought and renovated the building, turning the upstairs into Hotel Heartbreak—a hotel-cum-rooming house announced by a big, bold neon sign—and the downstairs into a “Rock ‘n’ Roll Danceteria” that was far more intimate and edgy than their other club efforts.

Saturday night resident DJ Mr Pete (left) with Vince and Trish. Photo courtesy of Kim Ackroyd.

Boom Boom Room was well suited to its surroundings. In the late 1980s, Queen west of Bathurst was still the great unknown—wild and peppered with unique possibilities thanks to then-affordable rent. With the newly opened, artist-owned Mexican restaurant La Hacienda a couple of doors down (and the Bovine Sex Club not yet in existence), Boom Boom Room became Queen West’s new meeting place for punks, metalheads, fashionistas and assorted nocturnal creatures of all genders and orientations.

The Ballingers chose a rugged and raw aesthetic, with metal and exposed concrete at the core of their 350-capacity space. The entrance, made of prison-cell bars, led to a catwalk lined by highway guardrails. From there, one could play voyeur and watch people dance on the floor below or—after it was added a year later—in the showpiece metal “go-go cage” found directly across. The infamous raised DJ booth was hell to access—up a tall, vertical metal ladder—but provided incredible sightlines once records were lugged up.

DJ James ‘St. Bass’ Vandervoort. Photo courtesy of him.

“The space was unlike anything I had seen before: all concrete and metal and sparse, but with a killer sound system,” recalls James Vandervoort, who originally worked lights, and later earned his DJ stripes and alias of James St. Bass at the venue.

Vandervoort also recalls the “the family vibe” of the Boom as managers, DJs and other staff who worked in Ballinger-owned venues hopped between clubs as needed. Many of them also lived upstairs in Hotel Heartbreak.

“It was chaos some nights,” Vandervoort exclaims. “With the Big Bop, Boom Boom and Go-Go all built and opened over a few years, all of the staff was tried out in all the club combinations.”

Boom staff and friends hang after hours. Photo courtesy of Sofie Weber.

Why it was important: Boom Boom Room brought a diverse clientele further west along Queen, largely thanks to its staff and quality music programming. The two original resident DJs—Vania and Richard Vermeulen—were key. Vania and host KC were the forces behind hugely popular Wednesday weekly Sgt. Rocks, arguably the first club night in Toronto to mix metal with alt-rock and hip-hop.

“I was always at Sgt. Rocks because it was a great party, filled with biker-style dudes and hot rock ‘n’ roll girls,” says Vandervoort. “This was at the best time for ’80s hair rock—think Guns N’ Roses, Faster Pussycat, Jane’s Addiction and The Cult circa Sonic Temple—but Vania mixed it up and played Public Enemy and other hip-hop to the rock crowd, too. They loved it!”

Sgt. Rocks flyer courtesy of James Vandervoort

Boom Boom Room promo courtesy of Tim Barraball

For much of the Boom’s first year, DJ Richard Vermeulen worked its booth Thursday through Saturday. He had developed a strong following while resident on Tuesdays at early Richmond Street hotspot Stilife, and had a wicked way of blending rock, funk, disco, acid house and more.

Vandervoort became St. Bass—and inadvertently helped lay the foundations for “Queer West” beyond Bathurst—in 1989, charged with the task of drawing a larger audience on Thursdays. A queer rocker boy with a big love for Toronto’s after-hours house scene and clubs (including Twilight Zone and Tazmanian Ballroom), Vandervoort began playing a blend of house, disco and exclusive British 12-inches, sent to him by friends who had moved to London. Not surprisingly, the night packed up with a fashion-conscious crowd, including a lot of gay men. Re-branded Boys Night Out, Thursdays became a Boom signature night.

“Guys were coming down to Queen and Palmerston from Church and Wellesley. We were attracting major numbers of queers out of the established clubs in the Village, which had not happened before to my knowledge,” says Vandervoort. “I wasn’t trying to prove anything vis-a-vis Queen West versus Church Street, but Boys Nite Out did prove there was gay club life beyond the gay ghetto.

“I’d like to think it was because of the music,” says the man who went on to helm CIUT’s popular Hard Drive show. “I was packing the floor with sounds like [A Guy Called Gerald's] “Voodoo Ray,” E.S.P.’s “It’s You,” and all the Ten City records I could get. Thursdays grew quickly to become the busiest night, and I learned to mix as I went along.”

It didn’t hurt that the night also featured hosts including Stephen Wong—now half of fashion house Greta Constantine—and “untraditional boys in underwear doing their thing” as go-go dancers in the caged catwalk.

“Most famous was Noam Gonick, now a hip queer filmmaker based in Winnipeg, who dazzled with outrageous drag outfits and fetish gear, and really took the night over the top visually. The first night Stephen Wong sent him into the cage to dance, Noam cut himself to shreds on all of the sharp metal and unfinished edges. The whole space was dangerous that way; we are all scarred from the booth, stairs and that catwalk,” Vandervoort recounts.

James St. Bass soon DJed Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays, leaving to become a resident at Go-Go in 1990. So began phase two of Boom Boom Room, marked most obviously by the sale of the club business to Steve McMinn, a manager at both the Boom and Go-Go, and his then-girlfriend Kim Ackroyd.

Kim Ackroyd (far left) with Tim, Manny, and Scott circa 1991. Photo courtesy of her.

“Our first six months consisted of throwing lots of parties, fashion shows, cirque, music performances, piercing-and-tattoo demonstrations—basically exploring what worked in the space and what didn’t,” Ackroyd recalls.

“We found that the neighbourhood itself was very diverse and therefore it made sense that the club should be. Within a year, we had five strong and very different nights, with hard rock on Wednesdays, a boys night on Thursdays, Dyke Nite on Fridays, a more suburban rock night Saturdays and industrial on Sundays.”

Denise Benson circa 1991.

Full disclosure: I was the DJ and promoter of Dyke Nite, which ran from 1991 to 1993. It remains a highlight of my DJ career, both because the Boom was where I really began to blend rock, reggae, rave, hip-hop and house, and because early ’90s dyke-and-queer culture was expressive-to-the-point-of-explosive. With full Boom Boom Room support, we featured early evening experimental film screenings, readings by the likes of Sarah Schulman and Alec Butler, community fundraisers, concerts by Ani DiFranco, hot-tub parties and more. The club’s catwalk and cubbyholes were put to good use, with the night’s vibe captured in Excess Is What We Came For, a short film made by Kathleen Pirrie Adams and Paula Gignac.

“Back then, it felt like we were just throwing some really fun cool parties, but in hindsight, there was a social revolution going on, especially on Dyke Nite,” says Ackroyd. “We were pushing all kinds of boundaries and sailing in uncharted territory. We provided space for people to express themselves, to find their voice. It was a beautiful thing.”

“Imagine Cheers with a clientele of goths, punks, freaks, rockers, gays, lesbians, preps and glam all rolled into one room,” summarizes Michael X Mckinlay, resident DJ and mastermind of the wildly popular Sunday Night Asylum from 1989 to 1993. “You didn’t need to go elsewhere.

“The Boom was a very unique venue, both in operations and in appearance,” says the DJ, then also known for his events at venues including Nuts & Bolts, Catch 22 and The Phoenix.

“Steel cages kept you separated from the go-go dancers but, once the dancers had left, the cages were yours. Being a narrow, two-storey club had its drawbacks, but over all, the Boom lived up to its name—boom!”

Michael X Mckinlay, on Big Dan’s shoulders. Photo courtesy of Sofie Weber.

Who else played/worked there: “One real benefit of the Boom was the diversity of its DJs,” asserts Mckinlay, himself known for mixing the likes of Prince with Rage Against the Machine, Sisters of Mercy and Apotheosis’ “O Fortuna”… before closing it all out with some John Denver.

“You had crossover-play between the DJs, but they were really unique and had different styles and followers,” says Mckinlay. “We were allowed to play what we wanted and weren’t held back by a ‘club theme’ or a prerequisite style.”

Some of the other core DJs who played during different periods included Mark Oliver, Matt C, Jason Steele, DJ Iain, Shawn MacDonald and DJ Dwight. Louie Palu, now an award-winning documentary photographer, and DJ Joe held down Sgt. Rocks together as “DJ Joe Louie” after Vania departed, while Mr. Pete rocked Saturdays for years. When Mr. Pete split, a Boom bartender named Shannon got her DJ start by taking the helm on Saturdays.

DJ Shannon at the Boom. Photo courtesy of Kim Ackroyd.

“I’ve been so influenced as a DJ by the Boom,” says DJ Shannon, now a 17-year-strong resident at the Dance Cave. “There was no holding back on the dancefloor as we played for open-minded people who loved all kinds of music. I like to think I’ve been keeping the flame alive all these years. I miss that bar so much; I’d say it was my favourite haunt back in the day.”

Boom bartender Deanna. Photo courtesy of Kim Ackroyd.

Many other creative Torontonians lent their skills to the Boom, including promoter Steve Ireson (he went on to manage at Go-Go), bartenders Julian Finkel (now owner of Model Citizen in Kensington Market) and Michael Schwarz (now an owner of Insomnia on Bloor), tattoo artist Mikey and fashion designer Deanna, a Queen Street darling now also known for her years of bar service at the Bovine.

Boom staffer Mikey. Photo courtesy of Kim Ackroyd.

Boom doorman Richard. Photo courtesy of Kim Ackroyd.

“We were lucky that our core bar staff were very talented people,” says Kim Ackroyd. “We had fashion designers, DJs, tattoo artists, musicians, and graphic designers working as bus-people, bartenders, wait staff and doormen. Our success was heightened by the dedication of the staff who contributed more than what they were hired to do.”

Most memorable moments: Deanna, who worked in various capacities from 1988 to 1993, cites the club’s hot-tub parties; setting things on fire while serving customers; the time actor Doug Bradley (a.k.a. Pinhead in Hellraiser) judged a Halloween contest; and the opening of Dyke Nite in 1991.

“The very first Dyke Night was so fucking busy we had to hire another busser on the spot,” she shares. “That night, we had more than 500 people through the door; the bussers had to walk outside and around to the front door to service the front bars. You couldn’t move in there.”

Dyke Nite ad. Courtesy of Denise Benson.

“The girls had some pent-up energy that they let loose,” deadpans Ackroyd, who also recalls visits by Madonna’s dancers and crew during the Blonde Ambition tour stops and “some things I just can’t share. Sex and drugs and rock and roll…”

“In today’s world, if asked whether I had any fun stories of the Boom Boom Room, well, it would be considered NSFW,” agrees Mike X Mckinlay. “Let’s just say that having a hot tub in the middle of your dancefloor can create an intimate experience for you and some friends. Oh yeah, pool tables are great too. So are elevated, virtually inaccessible DJ booths.”

What happened to it: Most people I spoke with say Boom Boom Room closed near the end of 1993, while a few suggest early 1994 feels more like it. The crowds had thinned by then, but long-time staffer Deanna also recalls that, mysteriously, the Ballinger brothers still held the liquor license and let it lapse. The brothers opened New York mega-club Webster Hall in 1992, and own it to this day.

Hero Burger at 650 Queen West

Later in the 1990s, Boom Boom Room became intimate rave haven Fat City—owned for a stretch by Steve Ireson and Mychol Holtzman. The venue then became the uniquely (some might say “bizarrely”) decorated Volcano Room, owned by Michael Sweenie who would later open Andy Poolhall on College Street. In 2005, it opened as a Hero Burger, with the Hotel Heartbreak sign still found above. The one time I visited the washroom there, the Boom’s original corrugated steel doors were still in place, as was the club’s lower level concrete dancefloor. Take a wander, and imagine for yourself.

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

Article originally published November 30, 2011 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

In this instalment of Then & Now, Denise Benson looks back at the legendary King West super-club that put Toronto on the international dance-music map, Industry.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: Industry nightclub, 901 King West

Years in operation: 1996-2000

Industry tag. Photo by Randy Chow.

History: Industry was a labour of love that grew out of youthful enthusiasm, overlapping friendships and prior club experiences. DJ Mario Jukica (Mario J) was 19 and his promoter friend Gavin “Gerbz” Bryan 24 when they moved from Oakville to downtown Toronto to develop a vision for a nightclub with DJ Matthew Casselman (Matt C) and business-minded clubber Daniel Bellavance. Bryan and Casselman had worked together at RPM (now The Guvernment) and were two of the core forces behind afterhours club BUZZ (now Comfort Zone), where Mario J was also a resident DJ.

After eight short, but impactful months, BUZZ was forced to relocate and out of it grew something much larger. The four men came together to create a thousand-person-capacity venue at King and Strachan, then a rather undeveloped area. Industry’s doors opened on July 5, 1996.

Why it was important: Industry embodied the maturation of Toronto’s late-night, underground dance-music movement. It operated during some of the most explosive years for raves in this city and proved to be an ideal home for a more seasoned, diverse, largely post-rave crowd. Above all, Industry’s programming, size and sound quality helped establish this city’s reputation abroad while also convincing Toronto to take itself—and its talent—seriously.

Kenny Glasgow and Mario J work four turntables, summer 1997. Photo courtesy of Gavin Bryan.

As DJ/producer Kenny Glasgow—an Industry resident DJ for its entirety and now one-half of Art Department—put it when I spoke to him earlier this year for Resident Advisor, “I think that when Industry opened, Toronto realized, ‘OK, there is an actual scene here,’ enough for us to open a club dedicated and devoted to underground house music and underground dance-music culture. A venue of that size clearly made it something for everybody to enjoy.”

“We wanted to create a club atmosphere that would break all boundaries that mainstream Toronto clubs had,” recalls Gavin Bryan. “We focused on highlighting the best house, techno, drum ‘n’ bass and trance DJs the world had to offer. It was all about the music for us as owners. We wanted to create events that would have people walking out and talking for days and sometimes weeks after. I knew we had a world-class vibe, and I wanted to share it with all the best DJs in the world.”

To that end, Industry presented an impressive range of artists—including Daft Punk, Basement Jaxx, Paul Oakenfold, Paul Van Dyk, Cevin Fisher, Victor Calderone, Roni Size and Fatboy Slim—in their Canadian club (i.e. non-rave) debuts.

Paul Oakenfold at Industry in 1997. Photo courtesy of Gavin Bryan.

Industry’s core audience was experienced clubbers, gay and straight alike, who knew their music and packed the dancefloor both before and after the club’s peak time of 4 a.m. They are the people who made it possible for Industry to expose a lot of new international talent to Toronto and vice versa. From there, the venue’s ace sound, lighting and staging allowed the DJs to play at their best.

“Industry is a very special place—a DJ’s dream come true,” was how New York legend Danny Tenaglia, a frequent guest, described the venue to me in a 2000 interview.

At the same time, Industry put a big emphasis on Toronto talent, with local residents regarded as stars in their own right.

Peter & Tyrone on four decks. Photo courtesy of Gavin Bryan.

4:am CD artwork courtesy of Matt C.

“In my opinion, the backbone of any club is strong resident DJs,” says Matt C, who mixed the club’s one official CD release, 4:AM (Industry Anthems Vol. 1), in 1998. “If you solely count on international talent, you’re leaving the success of your business in other people’s hands. This is why Mario J and I DJed at the club every week. Of course, legendary Toronto DJs like Dino and Terry, Peter and Tyrone, Kenny Glasgow and quite a few others also graced the turntables because they were all truly amazing—at an international level of quality.”

Adds Bryan: “We wanted to give a platform for local DJs to network with internationals in order to progress their music production, DJ careers and music labels. At the time, Toronto was known for throwing big raves and good warehouse parties, but outside of Nick Holder and The Stickmen, no one from Toronto was getting any shine because there was no real local scene.”

Like all significant dance clubs whose influence is felt long after their doors have closed, Industry was its own scene, thanks to the music, the audience and a deeply involved staff that included some of Toronto’s dance club scene-builders, like Steve Ireson, Jennstar, James Applegath, Rommel, Jason Ford, Mychol Holtzman, Ronnie Ferszt, Craig Pedigrew, Ludikris, Luke Fair and a young Christian Newhook (now known as Dinamo Azari of Azari & III).

Industry staff Jennstar and Yasna. Photo courtesy of Gavin Bryan.

Who else played there: Industry was anchored by residencies including Friday’s hip-hop night—which ran from 1996-99 with core DJs including Baba Khan, Sean Sax and Starting From Scratch—and SLAM Saturdays, a house and techno night open until 8 a.m., helmed by locals with international guests. The Syrous crew promoted a monthly drum ‘n’ bass night Thursday, at which some of the globe’s greats played, while the monthly Fukhouse nights gathered techno giants including Richie Hawtin, Stacey Pullen, Derrick May and Jeff Mills, who infamously made it to play during Toronto’s infamous blizzard of 1999 (yes, the year Mel Lastman called in the army). Also greatly loved were DJ Sneak’s Solid Sundays, which brought lovers of funky, Chicago-style house together on long weekends. Sneak, in fact, became an ambassador for Industry and re-located to Toronto partly because of the club.

Derrick Carter with Gavin Bryan and J-Dub, 1998. Photo by Idalina Leandro, courtesy of Gavin Bryan.

Other key names to mention: Derrick Carter (who played at Industry a record 17 times), John Acquaviva, David Morales, Goldie, Josh Wink, DJ Heather, Honey Dijon, Frankie Knuckles, Wyclef Jean and the list of notables goes on.

Flyer promoting Deep Dish at Industry, October 1999.

Flyer promoting Carl Cox at Industry, July 2000.

Gavin Bryan makes mention of an event that many, myself included, still rave about.

“For me there were so many magical house and techno nights, but the most memorable was surprisingly a drum ‘n’ bass show: Roni Size & Reprazent live in 1998. It was standing-room only, with everyone on pogo sticks for two hours.”

As for Matt C, “One of my fave memories would have to be the DJ Sneak and Armand Van Helden party that was one of our long-weekend Sunday events. I remember approaching the club and seeing 600-700 people in line, and then going inside to see that it was almost packed. The stress of the financial side of running a nightclub as a 24-year-old was sometimes extreme, but seeing that kind of turnout really did good things for my spirit.”

Crowd loving Danny Tenaglia at Industry. Photo courtesy of Gavin Bryan.

What happened to it: While financial stresses caused by dwindling profits played into the foursome’s collective decision to close Industry’s doors, the forces of Toronto city development weighed heavy.

“The city had goals of building Liberty Village and the anchor tenant that occupied the rest of the office tower was CIBC,” recalls Matt C. “Neither of them wanted this crazy club where we were, so they both decided, after about three years, that they were going to start to make our lives very difficult. As a group, we decided to go out on our own terms. We asked the landlord to let us out of our lease, which they agreed to, and we proceeded to book the best of the best for our final three months. We ended off with a bang rather than chains on the doors, like so many clubs end up.”

Industry went out Sunday, Aug. 6, 2000 with a 20-hour party that featured Matt C, Mr.C and Danny Tenaglia. A Shoppers Drug Mart now stands in its place, with the cashiers stationed where Industry’s DJ booth once was.

Shoppers’ cashiers are now stationed where Industry’s DJ booth once was.

“It is what it is,” summarizes Bryan. “We were not Coca-Cola, but were sure were the real thing—if you were lucky enough to take a sip of the Industry vibe, you know what I mean.”

Bryan continues to produce and market events as Gerbz; Bellavance founded Prism, a series of large-scale gay men’s circuit events; Matt C continues to DJ occasionally, but is a successful realtor working with former Industry manager Ben Ferguson; Mario J. went on to promote under the A.D/D. banner, but is now producing music as Milano, with a new EP set to drop on Tiga’s Turbo label on December 13.

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

Article originally published November 2, 2011 by The Grid online (TheGridTO.com).

In this instalment of her nightclub-history series Then & Now, Denise Benson looks back at a mid-’90s raver mainstay that was so popular, it inspired a TV show.

BY: DENISE BENSON

Club: OZ, The Nightclub, 15-19 Mercer Street

Years in operation: 1993-1997

History: Previously known as Factory Nightclub, an early home to techno in Toronto, 15 Mercer Street was reborn as OZ, The Nightclub in March of 1993. Factory founder Skot Fraser partnered with Americans Jim Pici and Mike Hamilton to open the new fantasyland, with input from key event producers including DJ Iain, promoter James Kekanovich and Steve Ireson, a former manager at the Ballinger brothers’ influential club Go-Go who would soon become a core manager at OZ.

OZ attracted large enough crowds that it soon grew to include a lounge on its second floor and, after that, it expanded into 19 Mercer Street, where the “Emerald City” VIP area was built. By then, OZ contained three separate dancefloors spread across 20,000 square feet, giving it a capacity of roughly 1,200 people.

Why it was important: Venues of similar sizes started sprouting up in the early-to-mid ’90s, parallel to Toronto’s increasingly massive rave scene, but what gave OZ an edge was its creative staff—including Michael “Mychol” Holtzman and Douglas Barnier, who designed freshly themed décor and installations every few months—coupled with sophisticated sound and lighting, and thoughtfully diverse programming.

OZ bar. Photo courtesy of Luke Dalinda.

“Toronto had not seen this level of partying before or since,” says Ireson. “The people involved, owners and staff alike, were all pioneers and had a grand flair for fun, adventure and carrying on—to the extreme. We knew how to have fun ourselves and made sure everyone else did too. In its prime, OZ was open six nights a week and each crowd gave ‘er as much as the next.”

Tuesdays hosted a jam-packed all-ages night where DJs including Mark Oliver and Matt C solidified their followings. Wednesday nights were for gay men and friends while Thursday’s “Hell” was all about the rock; DJ Iain’s retro Fridays combined ’80s synth-pop with ’90s alternative, and equally popular Saturday night DJs Scott Cairns, James St. Bass and Chris “Cooley C” Cooley mixed dance music ranging from mainstream to underground.

“Thundergroove Sundays though, that was a real legendary night,” says Ireson. “We brought in the big-name house DJs before places like Industry and The Guvernment existed. It had the feel and energy of a warehouse party in a fully equipped nightclub, with a perfect mix of gays, straights, guys and girls. There were people in costumes and wild outfits, fire breathers, drummers and dancers, all with the thundering house music played by the best. I find it hard to put into words just how spectacular this night was.”

Photo by Alex D. of Tribemagazine.com

Debut issue of TRIBE Magazine, August 1993. Image courtesy of TRIBE founder/publisher Alex D.

Thundergroove—with resident DJ Kevin Williams and guests including Peter & Tyrone and Shams (who later became residents)—regularly drew crowds approaching 1,000 people. The night so impressed TRIBE Magazine publisher Alex Dordevic that he featured both Williams and OZ as cover-story subjects in the August 1993 debut issue.

“I spent a lot of time at OZ, mostly on Sunday nights for Thundergroove because that is where all the best DJs and a lot of the cooler bar staff in the city were on their night off,” says the man better known as alexd. “We came to unwind after the crazy illegal warehouse parties the night before. Below the booth or in the VIP bar area was the place to hang out, dance, and listen to one of the most technically perfect house DJs I have ever heard, Kevin Williams, spin exactly what he wanted to spin on a killer sound system. Kevin was unbelievable; his mixes were so good they would bring tears to your eyes.

“Then, every couple of weeks, you would get Peter, Tyrone and Shams spinning pretty much nothing but white labels and acetates, testing records out on crowds before dropping them on warehouse parties. We were like a family at Thundergroove. It was heaven. It was also an industry night, long before Industry.”

Photo by Alex D. of Tribemagazine.com

James St. Bass, an OZ Saturday night DJ and later one of the hosts at Thundergroove, echoes the sentiment.

“OZ was the most successful at having warehouse sounds and clientele in a relatively safe licensed club venue. If the Factory was Toronto’s first licensed rave club—as compared to [the unlicensed] 23 Hop—then OZ was one of the first to capture, I feel, some of the chaos and glamour of New York– and South Beach–style clubbing. There was lots of mixing—drag queens and thugs, bikers and ravers, all ages and all backgrounds—with shooter and cigarette girls working the room and everyone always striving to make it wilder, more fun and more outrageous. There were no shortages of hot messes on a good night at OZ!”

Finally, OZ played an important role in supporting Toronto’s burgeoning rave movement, which, by then, had caught the attention of mainstream media—and the law.

“It was a regular thing for us to receive a call on a Saturday night from the rave promoters looking for a place to bring their party after the police had shut down their event,” recalls Ireson. “We would close the club a bit early—bars stopped serving at 1 a.m. back then—rush people out, give the floor a quick sweep and re-open to the thousand people lined up outside coming from the rave.”

OZ dancefloor. Photo courtesy of Luke Dalinda.

Adryin in OZ’s Emerald Lounge. Photo by Alex D of Tribemagazine.com.

Who else played there: In addition to the ace locals mentioned above, dozens of top international house artists—including DJ/producers Tony Humphries, Frankie Knuckles, Oscar G and Roger Sanchez graced the booth while vocalists like Lonnie Gordon and Michael Watford performed.

“You would get the visiting house DJs like Louie Vega, Disciple and Pierre, who immediately felt at home in the booth with the old Rane MP22z mixer, and their sets were epic,” says Alex D. “This predates the ‘superstar DJ’ phenomenon, so there was no pretension, no attitude at all by these visiting greats, or from the people who came to hear them. You could get close to them—you could feel close to them and what they were trying to do.”

OZ on TV: OZ so captured the imagination of budding young television writer and producer Luke Dalinda that he taped the entire first season of his club culture series Dance Nation on location there in 1996. The weekly 30-minute program aired for three years on NBC in the U.S. (CHCH 11 for Season 1 in Canada). Its high ratings spawned related CD compilations, radio show and events back in the day, with a new season currently in development.

“Dance Nation was the underground alternative to [CITY-TV's] Electric Circus,” explains Dalinda by email. “We allowed DJs to play full sets and we recorded the first 13 episodes at OZ, which was Toronto’s foremost underground nightclub setting. Being at OZ allowed us to capture the essence of club culture at the time, with real dancers, breakers, DJs and incredible nightclub lighting. The reality dance shows of today cannot compare to the pure eye candy that OZ had featured every weekend.”

What happened to it: According to Ireson, “After an ongoing dispute with the landlord over rent, OZ shut down on New Year’s Day 1998 following a spectacular 36-hour event. We backed a transport up to the doors, stripped the club and loaded it all into the truck.”

Maison Mercer

15 Mercer Street would go on to host a variety of nightclubs, including the short-lived, unfortunately named Schmooze. It is now home to Maison Mercer (pictured above). 19 Mercer became high-end Asian fusion restaurant Rain. Owned and operated by the Rubino brothers, the fantastically designed resto closed in 2009; in September of that year, the brothers partnered with Charles Khabouth to open Ame, a restaurant and lounge that occasionally hosts intimate classic house events and the like. [Addendum: Ame closed doors in 2012. Khabouth opened Italian restaurant Buonanotte at the address in January 2013.]

The post Then & Now: OZ, The Nightclub appeared first on Then and Now: Toronto Nightlife History.