If these Walls Could Talk.
It’s something we think about all the time down here. If these walls could see, hear, smell, or taste. If these walls could talk, would they? Or would they keep nearly a hundred years of NYC history all for themselves? If so, it would be one hell of a secret.
Relying only on what we have gleaned from almost ten years of anecdotes and basic research is enough to paint a vivid picture, and one certainty from all that we’ve learned is that it’s just a scratch on the surface of what has gone down in this old coal cellar underneath the building at 116 MacDougal Street in Greenwich Village. From years as an underground gay club in the 30s and 40s, to the birthplace of the Beat Generation in the 50s and then the Folk Music Revival in the 60s, to the raunchy nexus of the hard rock scene in the 70s and 80s, to a techno dance club in the 90s and 2000s, to the current oasis of civilized imbibing that heralds back to the finer drinking spots and subsequent speakeasies of the 1890s - 1920s. This space has been home to a near complete expression of the last 150 years of being a bar that defines the time and place where it exists.
The Gaslight Café
The Gaslight Café, originally known as the Village Gaslight, was opened in 1958 by John Mitchell. Mitchell also founded Café Figaro on MacDougal and Bleeker. Prior to the Gaslight, the former coal cellar space under 116 MacDougal St was home to Louis’ Luncheon a popular hangout for gay men, lesbians, writers, and chorus girls in the 1930s and 1940s.
Legend has it that Mitchell didn't like how low the ceilings were in the space, and since he couldn't raise them, he decided to lower the floor instead. Supposedly, because the city would not issue him a building permit, Mitchell would ferret the excavated dirt out of the cellar in sacks each night and deposit it around the area in corner trash cans.
Originally, the Gaslight was a venue for poetry readings, and saw the likes of Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, and Gregory Corso in regular residence. Mitchell sold the Gaslight after a couple years to Clarence and Sam Hood. The new father and son proprietors decided to book musical and comedic acts as well as poets and writers. During the next 10 years, the Gaslight would become a mecca to the beat generation. The list of notable performers is impressive to say the least. Joni Mitchell, Bruce Springsteen, Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, Bonnie Raitt, Mississippi John Hurt, Charles Mingus, Joan Baez, and Big Mama Thornton are but a handful. Of course the most famous of all musicians to make their name at the Gaslight is Bob Dylan, who played there regularly as both a newcomer, and as a returning guest long after his star had risen. There is even a Bob Dylan album, Live At The Gaslight, that was recorded there in 1962.
The epitome of beatnik cool – snapping in lieu of clapping – was born at the Gaslight. At the time, the Gaslight’s windows opened onto the building’s airshafts, and the noise of applause in the cellar would bother the upstairs neighbors who would then call the police. As a remedy to this problem, clown and comedian Wavy Gravy instructed the audience to snap their fingers quietly instead of clapping.
The Gaslight has featured in popular culture to this day in books, movies, and songs. Don Draper hangs out there in Mad Men. The film Inside Llewyn Davis and the TV show, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel are set in large part at the Gaslight Café of the 1960s. Bob Dylan’s song Subterranean Homesick Blues is said to be about the Gaslight.
Contrary to popular belief, no alcohol was served there. It was a coffee house for the entire run of its life from 1958-1971. Performers and patrons that wanted something stronger could go upstairs to the Kettle of Fish bar located one storefront to the south.
We still get visitors from around the world peeking their heads in to see where the heydays of the beat generation and the great folk revival happened. We even get musicians who performed here back in the day to see what’s become of the spot where the famous Gaslight used to be. That said, we haven't had a visit from Bob Dylan yet, although he would be most welcome.
Scrap Bar
The Scrap Bar was opened by Steve Trimboli and ran from 1986 to 1995. According to Drew Grant, culture writer for the Observer, the Scrap Bar was “the place where punk went to die and hair metal held the wake.”
The Scrap Bar was adorned from floor to ceiling with junk, auto parts, and any kind of trash you can think of. With an infamous reputation as an underground dive where anything could, and usually did, happen, it was the hangout for the metal and hair band A-list like Guns n’ Roses and The New York Dolls who would play impromptu sets. MTV regularly threw parties and filmed at the Scrap Bar, and countless established and up-and-coming musicians saw it as THE place to be seen when in New York.
The press video pretty much sums it up.
Our Wallpaper
& William Morris
At the Up & Up we want to be known for our top-notch cocktails and ace bartenders, but design also plays a significant role in the experience we try to curate. Minimal, but with a thoughtful use of formerly modern styles, beautiful finishes and hardware — it’s a little bit of Vienna circa 1902, and a little bit of dad’s basement circa 1972.
One of the most memorable and striking aspects of our interior design is our wallpaper. The pattern is named Blackthorn and was designed by Morris and Co. in 1892. We feel a special kinship with William Morris here at the Up & Up, and we try to follow the same principles that guided him and his art.
William Morris was born in 1834 in Walthamstow, UK. Morris was an accomplished poet, novelist, publisher, and pattern designer, whose ardent fans included Oscar Wilde and Alfred, Lord Tennyson. Morris, inspired by the reform ideas of John “Joy in Labour” Ruskin and A. W. N. “Truth to Materials” Pugin, was a tireless advocate of a return to handcraftsmanship and improved working conditions for craftsmen.
Morris was a truly inimitable person, perhaps best remembered today as a progenitor of the Arts and Crafts movement. He was wildly productive across a spectrum of disciplines, and was known for rolling up his sleeves and getting his hands dirty. His arms were sometimes purple up to the elbows from experiments with indigo dyes, an almost eccentric anomaly in an era — the Victorian era — slavishly obsessed with machine output and synthetic production. At the Up & Up, we like to think there’s a little of Morris in our approach to cocktails — indeed in the present-day craft cocktail and spirits industry. We love what we do, and approach our cocktails sincerely, creatively, simply, naturally, traditionally, and with our sleeves rolled up.
In honor of this exemplary craftsman and visionary, any visitor to the Up & Up can ask for a Red House Cobbler — an homage to Morris’s Kent, UK home, an early physical manifestation of his artistic ideals. A mix of Gin, Fino Sherry, Lime Juice, and Raspberries, Red House Cobbler is a refreshing yet contemplative variation of the Sherry cobbler, a drink that was very popular in Morris’s time.
Nota Bene:
Latin phrase ˌ nō-tə-ˈbē-nē - used to call attention to something important
When we called up Morris and Co. in December of 2014 to enquire about Blackthorn wallpaper, they told us that they were about to discontinue it after 122 years due to lack of sales, and only had a few rolls left in the warehouse. It was enough for our small space, so we bought it. Within weeks of opening, we were getting emails from interior designers wanting to know where we got our wallpaper. Now, Blackthorn is everywhere, from film and TV shows to other bars and restaurants, even here in NYC. Imitation is the clearest form of flattery they say. Clearly the good people at Morris and Co. decided not to discontinue it after all. We’ll never know for sure, but we like to think that the choice to use Blackthorn at the Up & Up may have saved this beautiful pattern from being forgotten altogether.
