SPEAKEASIES GO LEGIT.
KINDA.

In a city where conspiring to conspire, be it creatively or otherwise, is a pre-requisite, it’s no wonder speakeasies and London have got on so well.

From the homely, Frank Sinatra plastered, impossible to find, Italian family owned La Evista in Soho which opened to ‘the right people’ (read bespectacled artists, musicians and the odd rockabilly) provided they could find it’ since the ‘60s through to the equally legendary, and unfortunately now defunct, Gary’s Bar in Shoreditch to the artist run converted studio of Pele’s Empire near Brick Lane. The latter two being spots so hot, Gary was forced to change venues with a regularity matched only by the Police’s vain attempts to find the place; and Pele’s Empire skipped town completely, relocating to L.A.

Considering all of the above enterprises were, and in the case of La Evista still are, both illegal and attract the great, the good, the famous, the crazy and the seedy,
it makes perfect sense that they’d keep quiet. As the saying goes, just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get you. And if you lack a license to trade alcohol, let alone take a very liberal view on the smoking ban, they certainly are. At least, that was the case, until recently.

Venues, promoters and spaces that used to work incognito, mainly relying on word of mouth and other forms of discreet communication have gone, well…legit. Kind of. In 2003, the Department of Culture, Media and Sport introduced the Temporary Event Notice (TEN), which basically allows anyone with enough nous to add an artistic spin to their application to receive a carte blanche to sell booze, play music and have a bit of a jolly without looking over their collective shoulders in fear of the Feds turning up. Since TEN’s introduction the number of ‘legal’ parties in formerly ‘illegal’ spaces has soared.

For example the 20,000 square foot art institution Cordy House on Curtain Road, or Hearn Street Car Park near Liverpool Street both once existed exclusively on word of mouth, hosting hushed gallery openings and straight up illegal raves relying on removed doorways and nifty makeshift soundproofing (read keeping doors, entrances and windows closed) to avoid final notice. These same venues are now involved with institutional events such as London Film Festival (most notably Aaron Rose’s ‘Beautiful Losers’ afterparty at the aforementioned Cordy House).

Even the grimiest, dodgiest and most underground of spots (Dalston’s Moustache Bar, £11 note edifice Melange, and spot du jour, The Church Of Empowering Youth respectively) have appeared sporadically on the public horizon complete with full event campaigns. So, whilst on the surface they
undermine their old mystique, they both manage to re-affirm their links with the creative blood that pumps through London whilst with any luck – generating enough revenue to continue running beneath the radar.

Some legitimately licensed bars such as the brillianst Czech owned Lounge Bohemia or Soho’s Black Gardenia evoke the same spirit – being discreetly positioned and with an emphasis on atmosphere and facilitating openness rather than fiscal remuneration. Those real speakeasies, however, will always have their place in the city. As the proprietor of La Evista was once overheard saying “I only let in people that should be here. If you don’t like it, you can fuck off.”

I think that says it all don’t you?