Night of the
living lesbians

From bankrupt bars to pervy parties, on the trail of dykes after dark

by JOHANNE CADORETTE

Strolling in the Village a while back, I spotted a handwritten sign on the door of Magnolia confirming a rumour that the lesbian bar had closed. This is hardly breaking news, of course, as dyke bars in Montreal come and go like sitcoms with marginal gay characters. Every time it happens, a chorus of whining can be heard across the island: why can't Montreal support a decent dyke bar?

The answer seems obvious: bars can't stay open if nobody's going to them. Does this mean that Montreal's queer girls are fundamentally boring? Knee-deep in gay guys merrily on their way to the endless number of thriving bars the Village offers them, I was tempted to jump to that conclusion.

But maybe it's time we stopped comparing ourselves to the boys, and started using bars as a litmus test for a successful scene. The dearth of lesbian nightclubs isn't necessarily a bad thing. In fact, it could be seen as a simple manifestation of the evolution of queer women's culture.

Watering holes

Let's back up a little and take an oh-so-brief look at the history of Montreal's dyke bars (which I define as bars primarily patronized by dykes, bi, queer and trans women). The first truly lesbian bar to open its doors was Baby Face Disco in 1972, owned by a butch named Denise Cassidy. Before that, women went to mixed bars that catered primarily to gay men and/or heterosexuals, but tolerated lesbians. Even the notorious Les Ponts de Paris (which opened in 1955), was mixed (though it had a separate section for dykes). In the '80s and early '90s, however, things started turning around and there suddenly seemed to be a cornucopia of dyke bars, many of which were owned by women. There was Bilitis, L'Exit, Lilith, Kiev, K-2, Sisters, O'Side… We'd hit our stride and we thought things could only get better!

So what happened? Why is there no trace of that golden era?

First, we are now talking about a community of women that identify as lesbian, bi, queer, transsexual and transgender, many of whom feel more comfortable socializing in mixed groups whose members include gay men and/or queer positive heterosexuals.

Secondly, we are broadening our horizons, and bars are taking a back seat. Queer women have more options for socializing than ever before. We can join groups that focus on sports, socializing, reading, politics, and ethnicity, attend sex workshops, etc.

Multiculti clubs

Andrea Zanin, senior organizer for Tip of the Tongue, a group that organizes social gatherings for over 350 English-speaking lesbians and bisexual women in Montreal, adds that the plurality of the queer women's community makes it impossible for a single club to please everyone.

"There's definitely less of a cultural hegemony in the women's community than in the gay community," she says. "The splits are reflected in our bars. Ideally, you'd need one bar for every 10-year age group, and then within that one for each language. You'd have places for the intellectual types, for the club types… That's why Drugstore works so well: it's huge, and there's something for everyone - food, terrasses, music, pool tables - only it isn't women specific."

DJ Denise Benson agrees that bars are no longer the sole means of socializing for most queer women. "A bar isn't necessarily a home base for as large a percentage of the community as it used to be," says the Toronto club scene veteran.

But that doesn't mean that partying is a thing of the past for queer lasses. According to Benson, Toronto's scene is thriving, with only two specifically lesbian bars but several monthly and weekly parties (Savour and Synchro, Benson's latest gigs, as well as Juicy, Chickitas and Girl Toronto events, to name a few).

Hello kitties

In Montreal, Miriam Ginestier's legendary monthly Meow Mix parties and newcomer Heidi Bronstein's floaters (Women Behind Bars, Reform School Girls, Prom Night) and recent Femme Fridays at Parking Pub may indeed be the answer to our club woes.

Benson, who'll be in town August 1 to play Meow Mix as well as the Divers/Cité's Girlz-T-Danse, says the parties allow women to discover new music and DJs to experiment, which isn't always the case in bars. "In Montreal, the main bars play the same kind of music, so you go and you tolerate it, and that's really frustrating. The music is very predictable: retro, very upbeat. There are no surprises, and I wonder if that's what the DJs want to be playing. At the April Meow Mix, I was really surprised. People wanted to hear everything, including electro, deeper house, and rock. I was like, yes, this can happen here!"

So perhaps Montreal isn't the Bermuda triangle of dyke bars after all, and what we have instead is an increasingly diverse and discriminating queer women's community that is no longer satisfied by bars we simply tolerate. If the bars can't stay open, it's because they're not giving us what we want.

And the sky's the limit for the lucky gal who figures that out.

Divers/cité's annual dyke dance, Lesbomonde, takes over two floors of the Just for laughs Museum, with deep house from Boston DJ Kris Kono, hip-hop/reggae from DJ Torus and members of girlie burlesque troupe Skin Tight Outta Sight on Saturday, July 31, 9:30pm; $25. Kono spins again, with Denise Benson and other guests, at the Girlz-T-Danse lesbian block party, Sunday, Aug. 1, corner Ste-Catherine and St-Denis, 2:30pm, free