"I Have No Intention to Dine!"

The centre of Melbourne has been transformed over the last 5 years. You may not notice any change as you are walk down Collins, Bourke or Swanston Street, but a whole new life has emerged from the small streets and laneways that are so quintessentially Melbourne.

Whatever you might think of the Casino and its temporary predecessor, it was the catalyst for a change that has revitalised inner city Melbourne. In 1994 the first of a new type of liquor license was granted for the temporary Casino, allowing places other than hotels to sell alcohol without the consumption of food. This breakthrough put an end to the farcical dance between waiter and customer "do you have the intention to dine?", the waiter-come-detective would ask. It was almost assumed you were going to break the law, in the evil attempt to have a drink and talk with friends.

The Bars

At Meyers Place, we obtained the second General Class A liquor license in the State, and opened the first of the new style of inner city bars in Melbourne. Our intention was to create a small, comfortable place to drink and talk, late into the night. We chose materials to create a feeling of tradition with a modern twist to soak up sound and to bring a sense of history and establishment to a new place. (The walls were panelled with timber veneer from the Melbourne Town Hall and Melbourne University, shag pile carpet from a Doncaster house lined part of the ceiling and walls, and the height of the concrete bar based on measurements taken at the beloved Pelligrini's across Bourke St). We kept the music low, by way of contrast with the thumping groove of the stainless steel and glass lined bars at top of Bourke St, and people came down the lane and found us.

Months later another bar, Sadies, took over a disused Japanese restaurant at the end of a lane off Little Bourke Street. Then Rue Bebelons installed itself in a shop on Little Lonsdale and other small bars started sprouting in disused parts of the city. Word of mouth was a major factor in the success of the new bars, as there was often little signage and limited, if any, publicity. Part of the charm of the new scene lay in the thrill of discovery. Once someone had let you in on the new secrets of the city, you could make it your own, and invite others into "this great little bar I know". People were meeting for a drink at a bar after work, or before going to the movies or to a restaurant for dinner, then dropping in to another bar for a nightcap on the way home. They were no longer criminals, surreptitiously seeking a quiet comfortable drink without having to endure a "substantial meal". The way we go out in Melbourne was changing, and Melburnians, as usual, embraced the new way, spread the word and disappeared into the laneways and side streets.

The new bars are generally small cosy spaces, which give away little to the street in the tradition of the New York speak-easy. During prohibition these illegal "speak-easy" bars had to be discreet, in seldom frequented areas with hidden entries that you almost had to knock on three times and say you were there to see a guy named Eddy. The Melbourne bars are generally a little easier to find, don't have pass words to get in, (unless there’s a, thankfully rare, queue and you know the person on the door), but are often located in out of the way places. A converted basement (e.g. Gin Palace), a disused shop (Meyers Place,) or a first floor storeroom (Tony Star's Kitten Club) are often bar targets. These locations offer cheap rent, which is appealing to the small group of friends who are commonly financing these projects with limited budgets. The lanes and backways also have a cool factor, something about being out of the mainstream and in the know for the customers and of course the owners. The owner of one of the Greek bars in Russell Street, which are another wonderful addition to the life of the city, told me that before he had his bar, the chicks didn’t really notice him. When he became a bar owner, the chicks went crazy.

The Pubs

In contrast to the new bars, pubs as we traditionally know them have been changing from internally focussed lounge room substitutes to open airy bistro/cafes. Pubs used to be enclosed, frosted windows concealing drinkers from prying passers by as the men didn't want everyone to know when and for how long they'd been at the "rubbity dub". It was a place to relax, in semi private environs amongst people you knew and were comfortable with. Social interaction was internally generated, often involving the publican or other characters as focal points of the action.

Part of this change in the pubs has been sparked by the shift in demographics, whereby the inner Melbourne suburbs have filled up with young urban professionals and style conscious consumers, who demand a different atmosphere in which to spend their considerable leisure dollar. For these people, it isn't a regular part of life to drop in to the pub for a couple of beers on the way home from work. They want somewhere to have a glass of dry white wine and a fresh healthy lunch with friends on a Saturday, business associates on Tuesday, and a long casual brunch with the newspapers on Sunday. The pub was no longer a place for the blokes to sneak in for a few quiet ones after work. The traditional separation of Public Bar and Lounge is no longer relevant. There is generally now one drinking/cafe style area and another bistro/restaurant or gaming room. Both of these are often opened up to the street with large windows and/or openable doors. This allows people to see out, and, perhaps more importantly, to be seen by the passers by. The people driving by and walking by have become a factor in the social equation of who's looking at whom, as a part of the broader move toward window shopping and cafe hopping as a legitimate form of leisure. In the eighties the Pub was opened up, and dragged into line with the rest of society as a place catering equally for men and women.

Enclosure, however, still has its place at both ends of the drinking spectrum. The ubiquitous pokies, by their devious nature require a closed secure room to perform their magic disappearing money tricks, and the small bars rely on the atmosphere and intimacy of an internalised space.

The Pokies

The pokies are everywhere. Pubs all over Melbourne have been installing their maximum quota of machines. It is difficult in outer Melbourne, even in pubs with still separate Public and Lounge bars to avoid the constant beeping gurgle of money being swallowed, occasional electronic jingle fit of a win, or more commonly the da daa der deeerrrrr - Loss. Apart from a few Las Vegas style themed venues where gaming rooms have been fitted out to resemble Aztec ruins or an exotic cave, these new spaces have contributed little to the interior design world, with its high point being the Casino gaming areas - a dazzling disappointment.

The small bar scene in the city is also an attempt to recreate the intimacy and the internal focus of the old pubs. Double O, Scubar and the Hi Fi Bar and Ballroom are all windowless basements, and those bars that do have a view often look across a small laneway to a blank wall. The view is unimportant, as these places signify a return to the internal focus of a traditional Pub : a place to drink and talk to the person you're with. Being small and hidden there is a sense that each night is a gathering of like minded people, who can be locals without living nearby as they share a common secret. Social interaction inside the venue is becoming important again and the pub-as-lounge room, which disappeared for a while is making a comeback through these and other city bars.

The suburban bars are also creating a local feel. Unlike the pubs where poker machines take your money and, I imagine, leave you feeling pretty unsociable, the little bars in the strip shopping centres like Kelvin, Bar Open and the haven on Fitzroy Street, Tolarno, are places to drop in and talk to people, where a sense of community is strong. The community still exists in some pubs, but the bars are creating an opportunity to provide a different version, generally catering for a more European and less masculine audience.

The Place

There is an enormous choice of places to go to drink in Melbourne. Unless you have a hankering for a pint of Guiness, or you’re one of the rare people who still drink cocktails, there is little variation in the actual drinks. You may be a vodka lime and soda person, only drink draught beer, or enjoy a house white, but you can pretty much get a decent drink in most places. So your selection of venue generally boils down to who and where. The atmosphere is becoming the deciding factor in where we want to be. In the same way as we tend to have a favourite drink, Melburnians are hitching their wagons to a favourite bar. If you haven’t got yours yet, ask someone to show you their special little place, and discover a new part of the ever increasing behind the scenes Melbourne.

Craig Allchin

© Craig Allchin 1999