Despite shifting attitudes and apps, New Orleans’ gay bar scene is here to stay – NOLA.com

Rampart Street looks a lot different since Ken GrandPre moved to New Orleans nearly three decades ago to work in the city’s gay bar industry.

Back then, he estimates there were probably around 10 gay bars on the street alone.

“Rampart Street used to be the gay street in New Orleans,” he says, listing them off from memory and gesturing to each location. “Bar Tonique, that was T.T.’s … Voodoo was a gay bar, Black Penny was a gay bar. There was another, Jonathan’s, right next to Voodoo … Where Mary’s Hardware was, that was a huge gay complex. Down here, where French Quarter Courtyard is, that big, huge building, that was a big gay bar. It was all gay bars.”

Now, his bar GrandPre’s is one of the few gay bars remaining on the street. He bought and opened the bar in 2014, but he says the space has been a gay bar since at least the 1970s. New Orleans still has more than a dozen gay and queer bars, but several have closed their doors for good over the years. This mirrors a national trend of the overall number of gay bars declining in the last decade.

The city’s gay bar scene is not disappearing, but it is changing. In cities across the country, shifting attitudes toward LGBTQ people, the proliferation of dating and hookup apps, and gentrification changing city demographics have all been contributing to both the overall decline in the number of gay bars and the way they function in their communities.

And a global pandemic, resulting in city restrictions that have often hit bars the hardest, has only intensified the strain on local gay bar owners, managers and workers. They have had to work together to fundraise for their communities and navigate Covid restrictions that have been anything but stable since last March.

“Basically, right now, it feels like we are all building a plane while it’s in the air going through a hurricane,” says Oz general manager Sarah Manowitz.

The number of gay bars in the United States declined 18.6% between 2012 and 2017 and fell another 14.4% from 2017 to 2019, according to business listings compiled by Greggor Mattson, a sociology associate professor at Oberlin College. In his report, he notes inferring rates of bar closures from business listings alone is not a perfect system, but it does confirm a pattern many have been observing for years.

For one, technology has also played a role in not just the decline of gay bars, but also how they function in society generally.

Before, gay bars were some of the only spaces queer people could go to meet other queer people in a safe environment. Dating and hookup apps now allow LGBTQ and gender-nonconforming people to find partners without specifically visiting queer spaces in person, just as they allow straight people to meet each other without going out.

Both Tracy Deroche, who owns The Phoenix in the Marigny, and GrandPre say even when people come to their bars now, they’re often on their phones. With so many entities vying for people’s attention, bar owners and event planners have had to adapt and organize events that draw people in.

“You don’t have to go out and buy drinks — you can just pick up your phone,” says poet and social observer Saeed Jones. “So that’s a major change: that now if people go to a bar or a club, they’re looking for something different,” adds Jones, who served as the editor of BuzzFeed’s LGBTQ vertical for three years.

Jenna Ard of GrrlSpot understands that well, and she’s been organizing pop-up nightlife events specifically aimed at lesbian women for years. It started in 2006 when she’d randomly text her lesbian friends to show up at the same bar one night.

“Eighty lesbians would show up unexpectedly at a straight bar,” Ard says. Eventually, they started coordinating more formal events with bars so they wouldn’t overwhelm the staff. Plus, “there was never enough toilet paper,” she adds.

Now, GrrlSpot plans events every few months for special occasions like Pride, Decadence and Mardi Gras, and they go all out. Their past events have included RuPaul’s Drag Race contestants, burlesque dancers, fire artists and aerialists.

“What I try to do is, I’m like OK, there is no lesbian bar, but I’m going to try to make this the coolest, most interesting and beautiful lesbian bar you’ve ever been to just for tonight, one night,” Ard says. “I just try to do the coolest, weirdest things because it’s not what you’d expect at a lesbian bar.”

It’s the closest thing the city has to a bar specifically catering to lesbian women. Though there have been some throughout the years — most notably Charlene’s which used to be across from The Phoenix — there aren’t any remaining in the city. Lesbian bars have never been as common as bars primarily serving gay men, and many have closed down nationally in recent years. (Again, the pandemic didn’t help the situation.)

Both Ard and Jenelle Marlbrough, a lesbian woman and bartender at the Black Penny, say they think the lack of lesbian bars both in the city and nationally could be because there is less of a demand for them. Because of the wage gap, women generally have less money than men.

“(Men) have a lot more money to throw around and have fun with, to vacation and party and whatever,” Marlbrough says. “That’s a really big part of that equation that I feel like is constantly overlooked.”

As societal attitudes toward the LGBTQ community become more accepting, the line between gay bars and bars not specifically labeled as such is blurring.

GrandPre says he lived in a lot of “gay-friendly” cities before he moved to New Orleans, including San Francisco and Key West, Florida. But he says New Orleans is the “gay-friendliest city” he’s ever been in.

“When I moved here in the early ‘90s, the gay bars had their doors open onto the street,” GrandPre says. “You didn’t see that in San Francisco but you saw it here.”

It was a welcoming experience, particularly for a community that has been constantly targeted for violence and abuse. Now, because many LGBTQ people no longer only feel safe in gay bars, they have more options to choose from for a night out and may not end up at a specifically gay bar.

“When I go out, I’m just as likely to want to go to a gay bar or club as I am to go to a ‘straight’ bar or club, if I like it as well,” Jones says. “I no longer feel like those are my only options.”

Straight people are also feeling more comfortable hanging out at gay bars. While bar owners welcome the business, the presence of straight people in bars can change the vibe of the space.

“I can tell you every queer person has a story of being at a drag show and seeing a bachelorette party kind of takeover,” Jones says. “I don’t think bachelorette parties are to blame for whatever trends are going on, but there definitely is a phenomenon where I think these spaces are kind of being blurred.”

When GrandPre thinks about some of the gay bars on Bourbon Street, he cringes thinking of rowdy bridal parties full of screaming women. He wants his bar to function as an alternative to that scene.

“There will always be a need for other bars like mine that are out of the way, that don’t attract the bridal parties,” he says.

Marlbrough says often customers will come into the Black Penny asking if the bar is a gay bar, to which she likes to reply, “We’re not not a gay bar.”

“We don’t cater to anybody, so everybody is welcome here, like nobody cares,” she says. “As long as you’re not an asshole … then we don’t give a fuck … I think that in itself — supporting people’s intuitions and just who people are — is a big part of why New Orleans is such a special place.”

Not only are straight people becoming more accepting of the LGBTQ community, but gay bars and spaces are becoming more inclusive of lesbian, bisexual and TGNC people.

“We want acceptance, we want inclusivity in these spaces, so sure you’re seeing more diversity in these spaces,” Jones says. “And that also means, I hope, not just straight people feeling invited into these spaces but trans and gender-nonconforming people feeling comfortable in these spaces.”

Manowitz, who is a bisexual woman, says she’s noticing this happening in New Orleans. She says she’s Oz’s first female general manager and that in the last several years the bar hired its first openly transgender bartender.

Manowitz says she’s noticed the gay bar scene has gone from mostly cisgender white males to a mixture of women and gay, trans, straight and polyamorous people — and that it’s only gotten more diverse after the pandemic.

“The world is changing, and thankfully we are changing with it,” she says. “Historically, New Orleans has always been ahead of those trends.”

Jones says with the lines blurring and queer bars becoming more inclusive, he’s beginning to see even the term “gay bar” itself as outdated.

“Because that’s not actually what I envision,” he says. “I envision a space where queer people are just centered, and I can get a good cocktail, and there’s good music … It’s not just necessarily a room full of men. I want queer women to feel welcome there. I want trans people to feel welcome there.”

Another reason the gay bar scene is changing is because many cities themselves are changing, with increasing property values and gentrification.

“If you think about where a lot of gay bars would be located, gentrification often is going to impact them,” says Jones. “We see that consistently across the country … Real estate in those places is becoming more and more expensive.”

That’s true in New Orleans, where rents have risen while wages have stayed roughly the same.

GrandPre says the pandemic was the breaking point for many LGBTQ people working in the city’s service industry. Some who were out of work and still saw the bills stacking up were priced out.

“A lot of those people moved because they couldn’t afford to live here with no work,” he says. “The rents here have gotten to be so high.”

The city’s changing Covid restrictions have made navigating the pandemic both complicated and expensive for bars.

Deroche says when The Phoenix was closed for months in the early pandemic, most of his product expired. In June, the city allowed his bar to reopen in a limited capacity, so he had to repurchase all the supplies, only to have to close down weeks later when restrictions tightened again.

Still, he says support from the community helped keep the bar going.

“Everybody came out to support us,” Deroche says. “Even if they were running to the grocery store to pick something up, they would just come in and order a drink, just so that they could tip the bartender.”

Starting May 28, Mayor LaToya Cantrell lifted the 1 a.m. curfew for bars. The city is allowing full capacity for large indoor gatherings with the stipulation that they either require customers to wear masks or to show proof of vaccination or a negative Covid test. If they do neither, capacity is limited to 50%.

The loosened restrictions have been a relief to the city’s gay bar owners, and they’ve seen a warm welcome as they’ve been able to resume operating again. Memorial Day weekend was the first time they’d been able to operate without curfews in over a year, and business exceeded expectations at The Phoenix, Deroche says.

“Usually Memorial Day weekend is very slow for us. Everybody goes to the beach,” he says. “When [Cantrell] announced that she was going to lift curfew, I said, ‘Oh, it’s going to be slow. People probably already made their hotel reservations. They’re not going to cancel it.’ But it was very good. I was pleasantly surprised.”

Bar owners are hoping business continues to keep up throughout the summer, which is a traditionally slow season for the city.

“The summertime’s always the slow time in New Orleans, and I don’t think that’s going to be the case this year,” GrandPre says. “People are traveling, and New Orleans has always been a big destination. So I think it’ll be a good summer.”

Gay bar owners and event organizers are already seeing an increase in demand for LGBTQ-centered events as pandemic restrictions loosen just in time for Pride month. While there isn’t going to be a parade or big block party this year, organizers are arranging for smaller decentralized events at gay bars throughout the month of June.

Many plans are still in the works, as organizers scramble to plan according to the latest ease of restrictions.

Deroche and Manowitz say they’re hoping this will encourage people to support the city’s LGBTQ businesses all month, and that it will give them the opportunity to have events that support different segments of the community.

Deroche is planning a June 26 event at The Phoenix that will have a clothing drive for trans people going on job interviews and might evolve into a small job fair. GrrlSpot is putting on an event on June 12 at Crossing with burlesque performers Jeez Loueez and Lola Van Ella. And on June 10, GrandPre’s is having a 1920s-themed speakeasy event.

“It really has given us an opportunity to really, really be inclusive, because we can plan events to include everyone,” Deroche says, “where in the past, it was just whoever showed up at the block party and whoever showed up at the parade, and that was kind of it.”

Although a lot has changed since the pinnacle of gay bars, they’re still important and almost sacred places for many in the LGBTQ community.

For Arthur Severio, who performs drag in the city as Reba Douglas, the New Orleans gay bar scene is the reason he was able to see his first drag show in the ‘80s.

Gay bars are still places LGBTQ people can go to find fellowship with people like them and feel comfortable being themselves.

“It’s like being with your family, like being deep in your culture and with your tribe,” Marlbrough says. “[It’s] just about being with your people that you identify with and have a ton of things in common with just by default. That’s just a valid experience.”

Additionally, gay bars continue to be venues for performance art and self-expression — whether that be in the form of drag, burlesque performers or experimental shows.

“[Those performances] are still incredibly special, and I both have a good time and I laugh, and it does something for my heart,” Jones says. “That’s special, and that requires a certain kind of space where these artists can do their thing.”

New Orleans has always been a city known for its culture of celebrating individuality and expression, one that can’t be separated from the LGBTQ community and gay bars. Queer spaces play a role not just in the local LGBTQ community but in entire cities.

“When you say we need these bars, it’s because it’s like it’s hell outside of them,” Jones says. “It’s more like recognizing that if you like food, you realize you want different kinds of restaurants in your community because you want to be able to enjoy those different experiences. I think we should recognize that if you want to have a rich community, a rich cultural experience in your city, then having queer spaces is just a part of that.”

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