C/O Yoohyun Park
Stringent restrictions on clubs and gathering spaces have changed student nightlife
Nights on the town replaced by Netflix parties, social gatherings constrained to a Zoom screen — those have been the realities of the university social scene for the last year. The spaces once meant for dancing and screaming at the top of your lungs just to find your voice gone the next day have disappeared over the course of the COVID-19 pandemic. The hole left by where these social spaces once stood is felt not only by students, but also by business owners and the greater Hamilton community.
Restrictions and guidelines for nightclubs, music venues and entertainment establishments have been especially stringent over the course of the pandemic, largely due to concerns over the ability to enforce mask-wearing and social distancing. As a result, a number of local nightlife hotspots have had to creatively rethink the way they operate and do business within the Hamilton community.
“Nightclubs weren't even able to open up — we're lucky because we had seating and an in-house food menu. If you didn't have seats, you weren't able to open until July 2021, so we removed all our couches from the VIP area and moved bottle service onto the dance floor. It turned into a seated party,” said Dash Majithia, manager of Zen Lounge.
Brodie Schwendiman, owner and operator of The Casbah, a live music venue on King Street West, echoed similar sentiments in regards to the ways they’ve adapted their business to meet demands of ever-changing restrictions.
“From an operational standpoint, the main way we have changed how we interact with the community would be that we have a patio now . . . People know Casbah as a place to go to see music bands or listen to a DJ. Most people wouldn’t go to The Casbah for dinner so it required a lot of extra promotional energy,” explained Schwendiman.
Though the transformation of these spaces into mainly food establishments has allowed them to continue operating given the less stringent restrictions on restaurants, there’s been a disappearance of the floors once meant for dance, crowding and heat islands of energy.
The limited operations of these gathering spaces has negative ramifications on the student social scene and larger Hamilton nightlife.
“Why do people want to go to the nightclub? To talk to other people, to dance — all of the things that were not allowed. [At Zen Lounge] you had to sit in your group that you came with. There was a max of six or eight people per table. You weren't allowed to dance. You weren't allowed to walk around and mingle,” said Majithia.
There finally seems to be a light at the end of the tunnel in terms of McMaster students’ return to campus. However, having been away from campus for so long, there is now an entire generation of undergrads who have never had a ‘normal’ undergraduate social experience. And, those social experiences aren’t always easy to find — especially right now.
Schwendiman went on to describe that, even before the pandemic, there were difficulties for small music venues like his in reaching a student audience. Non-campus-affiliated groups had a more difficult time advertising events geared towards students in the areas around campus and the variable commute to off-campus venues added a barrier to access for many.
However, nightlife establishments have now almost completely lost their student client base. In a niche market where business owners often came to know their regular student visitors on a first-name basis, the undergrad and student crowds have been especially sparse as of late.
“I feel like we've lost touch with all these groups in the last few years because the people that were coming to us to do their parties and stuff moved on. The kids never came back,” said Majithia.
On the brink of a full return to campus for the Winter 2022 semester, students back in the Hamilton area can slowly find their way into the hustle and bustle of student life and with it, the nightlife of the surrounding areas.
“Finding the time is sometimes challenging, but what I would say to students is that I encourage them to carve out time to do their own research about Hamilton's cultural scene. Online, there's all kinds of places to learn about what's going on. Social media is such an important thing now, so it's very easy to access what's going on just by surfing around,” said Schwendiman.
Despite the difficulties posed by restrictions that nightlife establishments have dealt with in the face of the pandemic, business owners and the Hamilton community are excited to welcome students back to the area. Take a night off and see what it means to experience the vibrant social spheres of the Hamilton community.
Sous Bas is offering an online dance party in partnership with DJ Donna Lovejoy and WEFT Projects
Nightclubs are about escapism. As you abandon your body to the loud music, your senses become overwhelmed by the flashing lights and the thumping rhythm of the heavy bass. Your brain shuts down, but you feel completely present and alive in the moment. Although it may be difficult to experience this nightlife in the near future, Main Street East bar Sous Bas has come up with a solution to bring the dance party to your home.
Bedroom Dancing is a freestyle dance and movement series co-hosted by Sous Bas owner Erika McMeekin, Rachael Mae, also known as DJ Donna Lovejoy and WEFT Projects founder Jen Anisef. The three have been friends for a long time and collaborated in the past. The six free dance sessions occur bi-weekly from Sept. 21 to Nov. 30 over Zoom.. In place of a fee, the co-hosts are requesting a donation of $10 per session to one of the local and national initiatives listed on Sous Bas’ website.
The dance series initially launched last year featuring Dallas Walzak, professionally known as DJ Gelled Hare, at the physical location of Sous Bas. Unlike most club events, it was held on early Monday evenings. McMeekin, Mae and Anisef created the series to provide a stage for dance lovers who are unable to go out at late hours or who are uncomfortable being in the crowded club scene. Anisef is among them.
“I’ve loved dancing since I was a little kid. Sometimes I’m happy to go out [and] stay up until 2 a.m. for that perfect dance moment, but sometimes I just want to dance outside of a club setting, and I don’t always find [the places to do] that,” said Anisef.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CFhZTzJnwu3/
Last year the event was a hit and attracted a wide age range of folks between 20 and 60 years old who came to dance their heart out.
Following its successful inception, the series was brought back online this fall to recreate the therapeutic and cathartic experience of ecstatic dancing, a neo-hippy form of dance in which you free your body and mind and let the music guide your movement. The event was also created to remind people of what it’s like to be at Sous Bas.
“[Sous Bas] is about just being yourself, dancing, [without] judgement . . . It’s truly about creating a community and an environment for people to feel good and safe, make friends and have good experiences that make them happy,” said McMeekin.
“[Sous Bas] is about just being yourself, dancing, [without] judgement . . . It’s truly about creating a community and an environment for people to feel good and safe, make friends and have good experiences that make them happy,” said McMeekin.
Ontario’s stage three of reopening allowed bars and nightclubs to reopen, however only for the purposes of serving food or drinks. Dancing remains banned both indoors and outdoors at these venues.
To simulate the club experience as closely as possible online, McMeekin, Mae and Anisef have provided tips on Bedroom Dancing’s social media showing how to improve the lighting, sound and vibe of your home for the dance party. Many of these tips are insights they have picked up from their first online dance event, The Good Foot, in March. Some of the advice includes using an essential oil diffuser, placing tealights in a glass cup to create shadows, throwing a colourful scarf over your lamp and using an auxiliary cord to connect your device to a stereo.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CFQL9JGntvL/
The first Bedroom Dancing session held on Sept. 21 had over 30 people sign up. Although the physical component of the club is missing, McMeekin, Mae and Anisef appreciate being able to reach and engage with more people on an online platform. Anisef recalls community members asking to do a live stream of Bedroom Dancing when it was held in person last year. They hope a virtual dance party where cameras can be turned on or off at attendees’ discretion will help lift some of the physical accessibility barriers and social anxiety about coming to a club.
“I really hope . . . these sessions can create an hour where you’re not worrying about anything and you’re connecting back with yourself and . . . getting grounded in your body. For me, that’s the power of dance,” said Anisef.
“I really hope . . . these sessions can create an hour where you’re not worrying about anything and you’re connecting back with yourself and . . . getting grounded in your body. For me, that’s the power of dance,” said Anisef.
Mae shared a similar sentiment. More than anything, she was the most thrilled about “DJing” and being able to share an energetic exchange with people through music and dance again.
“I hope that [the attendees] can feel invigorated to move a little more in their own way . . . [and] connect with the community. That’s my ultimate goal,” explained Mae.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CFX0oJuHvS3/
As someone who deeply values the analog experience, McMeekin did not have plans to host online events prior to Bedroom Dancing. She missed all the physical aspects of Sous Bas, from the smells to the interactions with the old and new faces at the bar. However, launching the dance series has inspired her to think about a more long-term online strategy for the bar.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, many have felt stressed, worried, confused or overwhelmed. Bedroom Dancing offers an outlet to de-stress, reconnect with the community and share an exhilarating sensory experience that we thought was lost to the past.
Emma Suschkov
The Silhouette
Why must you taunt me so? Every time I hear a catchy song, you make me want to move to the rhythm despite never actually imparting on me any talent.
Unfortunately for me, it is not exactly acceptable to break out into enthusiastic, if far from skilled, dancing in many social scenarios. Say for example my favourite dance tune comes on while I’m in the dentist’s office waiting for the receptionist to call my name. The other people in the waiting room might be tempted to run away if I suddenly busted some (awkward) moves. But that’s exactly what you make me want to do. In addition to the social constraints that keep me from dancing whenever you make me want to, money prevents me from attending dance classes. Whatever, I don’t want to follow steps in front of a giant mirror anyway. I want to groove somewhere where I don’t have to watch myself and realize the visual horror I am creating.
Which brings me to the problem I face today. I don’t have a dance outlet. Apparently, that’s what clubs are for.
Except not.
When I say “dance”, I mean I want to do my thang and my thang does not involve grinding.
Grinding, while I see its utility as both a mating ritual and a way to dance/feel all sexy-like without having to learn how to dance, is not what I’m looking for. It’s not what you make me want to do. I’ll go to a club with the intention of dancing my face off to keep you in check for a while and instead of finding myself shaking a tail feather, I find other people trying to rub up on my tail feather. This is not, in fact, what everyone in a club wants (some do obviously, and they have every right).
But what, then, am I supposed to do? Do I turn around and shout over the ridiculously loud music at them that our desires are not mutual? Do I give up trying to stress my vocal cords to insane decibels and just sort of run away so they are left grinding, confused, all alone?
Seriously, desire to dance, you must see how you injure me. If there existed some way for me to manage you without all these problems and awkward encounters, we might live in harmony.
Until that day, please save it for when I’m alone in my room.
Please and thank you,
Coordination-challenged Cora
