What makes a gay club gay? It’s a question I’ve been mulling over since the launch of Aura, the new nightclub that has taken over the space once occupied by Arq.vIs it drag shows? The faint scent of poppers drifting across the dance floor? Posters of oiled-up men with six packs? Vocal-heavy pop anthems by Kylie Minogue, Cher, Troye Sivan or Lady Gaga? Or is it the more chaotic details – abandoned ketamine bags and those tiny, fish-shaped soy sauce containers (formerly filled with GHB) scattered across the bathroom floor? (Statistics show LGBTQ adults are more than twice as likely as their heterosexual counterparts to use illicit drugs.)
These may be part of the equation. But a gay club is also defined by who goes there, who owns and runs it, who staffs it – and whether the venue identifies as a queer space, is inclusive, and embraces gay cultural programming. Take Arq’s old Google listing before it closed: “Popular nightclub with 2 spaces featuring regular drag performances and DJs spinning house.” Or Palms’ Instagram bio: “Sydney’s Favourite Retro Gay Disco.”
Stonewall’s Instagram bio says it all: “Multi award winning LGBTQIA+ venue with entertainment every night.” You get the idea.
Now compare Aura’s Instagram bio: “A presence. A feeling. A new era.”
I attended Aura on Saturday and, judging by who was invited to the launch (which included a bunch of primarily straight reality TV stars) I’ll be blunt: Aura is not a gay nightclub. But neither are Melbourne’s Chasers Nightclub (which hosts Poof Doof’s Saturday events) or Sydney’s Home The Venue (which hosts GAYM Entertainment’s Morning Glory, Oracle, and occasional events like the Mardi Gras White Party and Trixie Mattel’s Solid Pink Disco).
At Aura, the first thing you’ll notice is that the motorised revolving doors to both dancefloors have finally been fixed – no more pushing. That said, they now move painstakingly slowly, taking about seven seconds to get through. Upstairs, the changes continue. A new timber dancefloor has been installed, and the once-prominent elevated stage – where drag artists used to perform – is gone. A fixed DJ booth with marble detailing has been installed in its place, and the dance podiums, including the iconic cage, have been removed. The venue now boasts an upgraded sound system – a noticeable improvement – and new roped-off VIP booths with plush seating. Similar booths have also been added on the mezzanine level.
Some remnants of Arq remain, albeit altered. The old fish tank still stands, though it’s now empty. The photo booth that once greeted guests at the stairway entrance is gone, replaced with rentable portable phone chargers. Even the circular multi-user sink in the upstairs bathroom has been given a makeover, repainted matte black to cover its glittery finish.
The downstairs stage has also been transformed into a DJ booth, lined with large speakers, which suggests the space may no longer be used for dancing in its current configuration. VIP booths now line the back of the lower level, with fancy wall lights behind them.
Outside in Trash Alley, once home to the camp Wizard of Oz and yellow brick road mural, the walls have been repainted with more generic – and arguably less queer – art, including a Mario-themed artwork. A pipe installed above the alley now emits a foggy mist, adding a deliberately mysterious touch.
Sydney has seen several queer venues vanish in recent years. Heaven and Nevermind collapsed, Arq closed, Stonewall reduced trade from seven to five nights a week, and The Bearded Tit will shut in November, apparently due to its owner’s desire to explore a career outside of hospitality. The Green Park Hotel in Darlinghurst, popular with the gay community, was also closed in late 2020 after being sold to St Vincent’s Hospital. While Grove Bar – branded “the only queer bar in Kings Cross” – has survived since launching in late 2021, and Newcastle now has a queer bar again thanks to Bernie’s Bar, it’s becoming increasingly harder to sustain traditional gay bars, especially ones that operate seven nights a week.
Aura has promised to offer Friday nights to queer promoters. Thick ‘N’ Juicy’s winter underwear party with tunnel access to sex-on-premises venue Sauna X is happening on August 1.
One promising trend is the rise of the “club night” – events run by queer promoters at venues that aren’t necessarily queer. Examples include Flash at Two 3 One in Paddington and Poof Doof’s events at Ivy, Hotel Harry, Plaza Hotel, or on Seadeck (a party boat business of which Auld is a co-owner).
Queer nightlife is changing. Opening a venue isn’t enough – you must offer something fresh. And while the younger generations may still go out, it appears to be less frequently.
Arq seemingly failed because it took too long to reopen after lockdowns and lost its Saturday audience to GAYM Entertainment’s DéjàVu. When it finally returned, it relied on nostalgia without revitalising its programming.
Arq’s change of management to the owner behind Home The Venue, as well as its Poof Doof partnership, appeared to help for a while, but financially it wasn’t sustainable, especially during the colder months.
With the building housing Stonewall’s Diva bar up for sale and the gay venue’s lease expiring on November 3, renewal seems unlikely.
The traditional gay bar may be fading. But club nights – fluid, mobile, and culturally relevant – might just carry the torch. And who knows? Your next favourite queer club night might be at Aura. But it might need a touch of glitter first.
Ben Grubb
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Gay Sydney News editor
