Dancing to different tunes

The clubs want to stay in business. The neighbours want some peace. And the kids just want to have fun

Publication title: Edmonton Journal
Pages: A1 / FRONT  
Section: News
Publication date: Jan 13, 2001
ProQuest document ID: 252781766
Copyright: Copyright Southam Publications Inc. Jan 13, 2001
Author: Hagan, Susan

Abstract:

Expert Parking manager Jim MacDonald says the area around the clubs is quieter now, but he worries about the summer. He thinks warmer weather will bring another round of problems at his parking lot, which is next to the clubs.

Edmonton police Const. Grant Jongejan requested the licence hearings after serving several noise tickets on the clubs. [Oliver Friedmann] is being extra cautious now, but problems will erupt again, Jongejan says. "You can't even imagine how much time this has consumed.

On Friday, Phil Fearon, director of the city's licence section, convened a hearing to decide whether the clubs' licences should be renewed. After meeting for several hours at the Downtown Business Association, representatives of the clubs were told they would have to wait to learn their fate.

Full text:

Ran with factbox entitled "They Say" which has been appended to the end of story.

Hours after shoppers and workers have deserted Edmonton's downtown, a new wave of people arrives to dance amid the bass-heavy music at popular clubs.

This Friday is quieter than many nights along 102nd Street. The Rev has no live band and sits closed. Inside Lush, a handful of patrons shout above the deejay music in orange-lit alcoves.

But Therapy, an all-night dance venue, comes alive after midnight. The lineup of people waiting to get inside stretches down stairs in the back entrance. Teens and 20-somethings wait for their turn to be frisked by fatigue-wearing security guards before entering the alcohol-free club. The ritual repeats itself every weekend when the club opens from 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. Cameras capture the customers' IDs on tape. Guards check for drugs.

These are three of the downtown clubs whose business licences are under review, mainly because of noise complaints.

A seniors' high-rise building and Alberta Place Suite Hotel share a common alley where they say youths often loiter. They also complain about broken bottles and litter, graffiti scrawled on the walls of neighbouring buildings, a cacophony of late-night noise. And lost business.

At a hearing Friday, the clubs' owner Oliver Friedmann defended his efforts to respond to those concerns.

Earlier closing times, more soundproofing and tighter security would get riff-raff off the streets, says hotel manager Lillian Pushor.

"I have no problem with (Friedmann) making a living, but not to the detriment of everyone around him," she says.

The long-time club owner has put in a soundproof enclosure around the Rev's back-alley exit, which muffles the noise. In this commercially zoned area, sound levels must not exceed 60 decibels.

The city's noise bylaw says that after 10 p.m., any noise that disturbs "the peace, comfort of the repose of any person" is an offence.

On this night, Friedmann asks his staff to do five noise checks in several spots with a sound meter.

All but one, taken from a parkade at a level above the club's building, fall within the bylaw requirement.

Maybe he'll have to add soundproofing to the roof, Friedmann says. He is willing to invest up to $50,000 on the project if necessary.

But the clubs' pounding music isn't the only sound heard outside. Some patrons stand outside to take a breather. Non-patrons have also made the area a hangout.

Friedmann flinches as a half-dozen youths scoot through the alley, hurling shouts at somebody running away. They may not even be customers from the clubs, he says. Dressed in leather and chains, they just don't look the part.

Around 4 a.m., there's another outburst. A scuffle outside the nearby pizza parlour breaks out. Two young men throw punches and the dispute is settled in seconds. Customers buying pizza by the slice ignore the commotion.

Expert Parking manager Jim MacDonald says the area around the clubs is quieter now, but he worries about the summer. He thinks warmer weather will bring another round of problems at his parking lot, which is next to the clubs.

"Kids want to have fun," he says. "I am not against that. (But) I disagree that without them the downtown would be dead."

Troubles with noise and litter escalated until last mid-August when MacDonald hired a private security company and shut down his lot at night until October. It cost him more than $5,000.

"I wouldn't be unhappy to see (the clubs) gone, but I am prepared to work with them."

Edmonton police Const. Grant Jongejan requested the licence hearings after serving several noise tickets on the clubs. Friedmann is being extra cautious now, but problems will erupt again, Jongejan says. "You can't even imagine how much time this has consumed.

"We almost need police to deal solely with after-hours clubs."

On Friday, Phil Fearon, director of the city's licence section, convened a hearing to decide whether the clubs' licences should be renewed. After meeting for several hours at the Downtown Business Association, representatives of the clubs were told they would have to wait to learn their fate.

Marcus Gurske, clubs' spokesperson, said a decision on their future is expected within two weeks and may come as early as Monday. In the meantime it's business as usual.

Patrons defend their right to be there. Sixteen-year-old Laura Hostyn waits all week until she can mix again with peers. Problems can be fixed, she says, adding it is mainly outsiders who cause the trouble, she says.

"I couldn't find a group of people who understood me," Hostyn says, her pink-dyed hair peeking out from a backwards ball cap. "I belong here. ... The real world is judgmental and stereotypical. I despise that."

Sarah Lawrence, 17, says youth are oppressed by authority figures who don't understand the club and its supporters. The people who want to close them down don't have enough P.L.U.R., she says, referring to the peace, love, understanding and respect phrase that has become a mantra among the dancers.

"This is important to those of us who come here," Lawrence says.

"Everyone is entitled to freedom of speech and thought and communication."

Coun. Michael Phair, whose ward includes the area, says a compromise among neighbours for more tolerance and less noise can work, he says. That doesn't mean restricting hours, but respecting neighbours.

"We have to find a way of dealing with people's behaviour."

THEY SAY:

- "The downtown definition permits clubs like this to exist. I don't expect council will try to limit that." --Coun. Michael Phair
- "We tried the diplomatic approach and that didn't work." -- Const. Grant Jongejan
- "Our neighbours have valid concerns ... but they haven't given it time to view the results." Club owner Oliver Friedmann
- "Please don't shut it down... This is safe. Security is everywhere." -- Sam Henderson, 16, Therapy patron
- "I have no idea ... why it got out of hand. Maybe the people are rowdier." --Jim MacDonald, manager Expert Parking
- "It is not just a dance club. My life revolves around it." -- Laura Hostyn, 16, Therapy patron
- "I have no problem with kids being out all night. I did it ... But we had respect for people's property and weren't doing things like that." -- Lillian Pushor, manager of Alberta Place Suite Hotel
- "The only people who know what goes on here are staff and the people who come here." -- Sarah Lawrence, 17, Therapy regular

Illustration

Colour Photo: Jason Scott, The Journal / Teens dance at Club Therapy on a recent weekend. ;

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