Reykjavík Grapevine - 15.06.2007, Blaðsíða 19

“You show me a queer in any city, and I will in turn show you
someone that incessantly complains about his gay scene and
nightlife. It doesn’t say a thing about the gay scene in ques-
tion; it’s just the way the discourse is shaped. The-grass-is-al-
ways-greener-syndrome if you will.” This was one of the things
the Grapevine learned while researching Reykjavík’s potential
for gay nightlife F-U-N. Not a small or particularly modest task,
defining the nightlife of an entire demographic, but our in-
terest was aroused by… well, by some complaints from gays
about the nightlife (or lack thereof). The following details our
task to learn if they are warranted.
First off, it should be noted that Iceland is by all accounts an
excellent place to be gay. Through the tireless work of the
pioneers behind Samtökin 78 (the Icelandic Gay and Lesbian
Organisation) and some progressively minded MPs, gay and
lesbian rights in the country are now near-indistinguishable
from those of their heterosexual cousins (although “close to
indiscriminatory” is never acceptable when it comes to basic
human rights), the gay lifestyle is widely accepted, and homo-
phobic acts and rhetoric are condemned and frowned upon.
A lot of good work has been done by a lot of good people
since the early days of the Icelandic gay rights movement in
the seventies, when young gays often saw no option other
than to flee the island for fear of persecution and banishment.
While the ongoing 30+ years battle for gay rights in Iceland is
deserving of many lengthy essays, this particular article, rather,
places focus on various social aspects of homosexual life in
modern-day Iceland – the nightlife: the celebration that inevi-
tably follows any revolution. And we are currently mid-party.
Spartacus Meets Reykjavík
What better place to start our journey into Reykjavík’s gay so-
cial life than the 2007 edition of the Spartacus International
Gay Guide? The Spartacus guide is a renowned resource for
globetrotting homosexuals of all ages. A thick and sturdy book
lined with ads depicting handsome men in various states of
undress and oiliness, it makes a valiant effort to document gay
life around the world, with chapters dedicated to nearly every
city that has even an inkling of a gay scene.
It lists the atmosphere a gay man may expect to face in a
given country, along with their various attractions that are po-
tentially attractive to gay tourists: gay friendly bars, clubs and
restaurants, and popular cruising spots, of course. The guide
gives a fairly accurate (if thoroughly out of date) account of
Reykjavík’s gay nightlife options, along with the normal tourist
attractions: Blue Lagoon, Golden Circle, midnight sun, etc.
Not surprisingly, most of the Iceland entry is dedicated to
the fair state of gay rights in the country, as opposed to the
hedonistic options at hand. This seems in-line with a common
view of many of the young gay men interviewed for this arti-
cle: Being gay in Iceland is awesome, if uninteresting at times.
This leads one to wonder if the significance of many of the
major gay rights achievements of the past three decades is
lost on the younger generations now enjoying them – if they
are too caught up in enjoying the fruits of past labours to fully
appreciate the strife of their elders. Then again, the same can
(and has, frequently) be said of Western youth for several de-
cades. When your worries are more pertinent to parties than
poverty or persecution, you know you should feel thankful.
That being said, the complaint is somewhat understand-
able. Until late February (when research for this article com-
menced), there really was no officially gay night club in Reyk-
javík, and hadn’t been since a club called Jón Forseti closed
down a few years ago. The gay nightlife was for a short while
limited to a 35 square metre room next to the downtown Sub-
way franchise in Austurstræti – a pleasant, if tiny, bar called
Café Cozy. While Cozy (as it’s affectionately known by regu-
lars) continues to be a fun and friendly place to take drinks
and hook up with likeminded folk, it can by no means satisfy
the partying needs of a several thousand-strong, thriving gay
community.
So, it was with great abandon that the Reykjavík gay scene
welcomed Q Bar when it underwent its transformation to an of-
ficial “Gay club” late last February. Previously a yuppie-ish dive,
known mostly for discriminating guests on the basis of their
footwear, the club’s advent into the gay market was spearhead-
ed by late-twenties Reykjavík nightlife mainstay Óli Hjörtur, who
continues to run the shots.
Although celebrated from the beginning and steadily add-
ing to its clientele since then, many of those who spoke to the
Grapevine at that time took the Q Bar’s transformation with a
grain of salt, cynically commenting that “turning ‘gay’ is usually
the last resort for nearly bankrupt bars. The lack of options for
gays in Reykjavík will always guarantee a flux of curious custom-
ers for the first couple of weeks.” The ongoing success of Q Bar
has silenced those voices for now, and several visits to the club
during the past months indicate that it is here to stay.
“There Wasn’t Even an Internet to Speak of”
Sipping on a soy latté, 29 year-old hairdresser/stylist Skjöldur
Eyfjörð reminisces about the state of the gay scene when he
came out and started participating in the mid-nineties, at the
tender age of sixteen. “Those were entirely different times.
The only thing going on was Samtökin 78 and (now defunct
bar) 22 – and 22 wasn’t even an officially gay bar; it was just
where all the gays hung out. It was much the same as it is
now, actually: arty types, college folk, bohemians, you know,
the people that aren’t interested in the mainstream culture
[author’s note: legendary gay nightlife spot 22 now operates
under the moniker ‘Barinn’ and is very different from what
it used to be]. There wasn’t even an Internet to speak of, all
that came later. The only way to get into the scene was to visit
Samtökin or hang around 22 for long enough.”
“Then, Spotlight [another legendary, and at one time
huge, gay club operated from the late nineties ‘til a few years
ago] opened up and it was like a bomb. The atmosphere re-
ally changed, the state of gay rights also changed much to the
better and we were becoming more visible in society… fashion
was changing, AIDS wasn’t as big an issue; people weren’t
afraid anymore. Things got very exciting for a period in the
late nineties, we had the first drag show, Gay Pride got off to
an excellent start… The atmosphere at Spotlight was insane at
times, all of the sudden you got away with doing things that
you really weren’t allowed to before. It was like our very own
Studio 54 there for a while.”
As the Reykjavík club-scene is legendarily fickle (which
explains the Spartacus writers’ problems with keeping up to
date), Spotlight’s day in the sun drew to a close early this de-
cade, following an ill-advised move from its original location.
Skjöldur tells me that the nightlife scene now is in many ways
different from his halcyon days. “It’s much more aggressive
than it used to be, in a bad way. People are using more drugs
than they used to, and for different reasons too. Nowadays
I rarely stay out past 2 AM, the mood is uncomfortable and
aggressive, people all have these big egos. I don’t like it, it’s
lacking a certain joy.” Given his remarks, he seems to be refer-
ring to the 101 Reykjavík nightlife in general, the gay scene
notwithstanding.
I ask him how he regards the difference between the gay
scenes in Iceland and other countries he has visited. “Well,
Icelandic gays have never realised that there are only 300.000
of us. That’s not a lot and you can’t really have case-specific
places for everyone. Rather, you have a few places that are
doing their best to appeal to a wide range of people aged 16-
100, and while their tastes inevitably vary, I think they’re doing
a commendable job. Splitting up into smaller groups isn’t really
an option in such a meagrely populated country.”
“There’s an upside, however, you won’t get lost in the
crowd, you always have a place to go where you’ll know some-
body, you never wind up standing alone in a corner and it
offers a certain protection. It may be boring as hell at times,
not getting to choose between several places, but it has many
benefits as well. And it’s shaping up nicely. Gay life these days
is not so much about drinking and partying as it is about just…
being. We now have a lot of couples and full-fledged families,
people don’t rely on the crutch of alcohol, drugs and partying
to the degree they maybe once did. Being gay is different now.
Easier, even.”
Gay and Night
When prompted, Skjöldur describes his idea of a “perfect gay
Saturday in Reykjavík”. It entails an early workout at the luxuri-
ous Laugar-gym (“a lot of hot men exercise there”) followed by
brunch at Jómfrúin (downtown’s excellent, gay-operated Dan-
ish Smörrebröd house in 101). “I’d then browse the fashion
shops downtown, as we have a lot of exciting young design-
ers here. I like Kronkron, Gyllti Kötturinn and Sævar Karl, for
instance. Then maybe dinner at [vegetarian restaurant] Grænn
Kostur. The night would conclude by perusing the 101 down-
town scene, I have a man so I’m not looking for any hook-ups,
but some coffee and socialising would serve me fine.”
While Skjöldur seems content jettisoning all-night drink-
ing and partying for relationships and responsibility, as many
grown-ups will, others still revel in the fun to be had sipping
cocktails ‘til Monday, joyously dancing nights away at every
chance. Hence, one striking young man professed his love for
all things nightlife and boogie in the Thursday night bathroom
queue at Q Bar, describing his routine thusly: “On a good Sat-
urday, I’ll usually start out visiting the leather club around mid-
night, then move on to Q Bar for some drinks and fun around
2 AM and finally close the night at Café Cozy. Depending on
what’s happening there, I might be home anytime from 5 AM
to sometime the next day. Things can really get crazy around
there, there’s no telling what will happen.” His plan seems as
good as any, so the following Saturday night commences with
a visit to the leather club.
A Refuge for Former Sexual-political Refugees
MSC Ísland [MSC is short for Motor Sports Club] is a private
club, founded 22 years ago by former sexual-political refugees
who had left the country in the late seventies and returned
in the early eighties, when the atmosphere got a little more
welcoming. These were men who had lived in London, Copen-
hagen, Amsterdam and San Francisco, places where gay men
could live relatively normal, comfortable lives in harmony with
their sexuality.
Homosexuality has of course always existed in Iceland,
but no one talked about it until Samtökin 78 were founded
in 1978, there was no information to be had and the possi-
bilities for a social life were extremely limited. Being gay here
wasn’t an option; the situation was much the same as it is in
the Faeroe Islands today.
“Around 1981 things had gotten slightly better, you could
count on at least one of the discos in town to have a ‘gay cor-
ner’ where like-minded homosexuals could convene. People
started returning, and MSC was founded by men who had
gotten to know ‘the leather life’ while living abroad and want-
ed to bring it back home.”
The deceivingly young-looking secretary of MSC Ísland
(“Proper gays need to look at least ten years younger than they
really are,” the 61 year-old tells me at one point) is explaining
how he came to co-found an Icelandic leather-fetish club for
like-minded gay men during the mid eighties. We are sitting in
a corner of their tiny downtown Reykjavík clubhouse, where the
properly attired members and their guests will meet at week-
ends to share drinks, conversation and other pleasantries.
It is decorated in true leather-bar style, camouflage-netting
hanging in the ceiling over pitch-black walls boasting posters
for leather summits around Europe along with various club in-
signia and memorabilia, lit by dim red lights. A wall-mounted
TV is eternally blaring some high quality gay porn in one cor-
ner, a tiny bar in another, while a small steel cage, convenient
for climbing into when the mood is right, is located centre
point. Past the proper social area, a small corridor leads to a
well-outfitted back room where those interested can engage
in pleasurable acts at their discretion.
Like all self- respecting fetish clubs, MSC Ísland has a strict
dress code policy. According to their web site, www.msc.is,
those who seek admittance to the clubhouse must be decked
out in a certain manner (although exceptions are made for
travellers and first-time visitors). In short, leather and rubber
attire is welcomed, as are uniforms and sportswear (Nazi-relat-
ed uniforms are strictly forbidden, as are all forms of business
suits). Work boots, jeans, T-shirts and nudity are welcomed,
the main point and rule-of-thumb is dressing in a MANLY fash-
ion. MSC.is provides a list of 13 different, ECMC approved,
dress-styles, all of which are pretty self-explanatory. They in-
clude the Leatherman, the Soldier, the Officer, the Skinhead,
the Cowboy and the Rubberman; members are encouraged to
find their niche in their chosen genre.
MSC Ísland was operated out of a PO Box for its first de-
cade, only acquiring the current clubhouse in 1997. As the
secretary tells it, the club was originally founded in May of
1985, by a small group of men who wanted to create a social
scene and gain admittance to the ECMC (a European coalition
of MSC-style clubs). “Gay men usually have money and love
to travel – there’s no kids to keep them at home – and the
ECMC originally started in 1972 as a venue for such men from
London, Cologne and Amsterdam who would cross Europe on
their motorbikes and meet up in different cities. The thing with
many of these guys is that they are very bourgeoisie and civil
minded, straight-types who like to get hip at weekends; they
also love to organise and publish documents and newsletters
[pulls out a slew of ECMC affiliate newsletters from around Eu-
rope]. There are a lot of meetings and conferences, and their
objective is usually planning next year’s big party.
“One of our goals in founding MSC was to give such men
that for some reason found themselves visiting Iceland an op-
portunity to connect with likeminded people. It was also an
attempt to do something truly cultural; a big city needs to pro-
vide certain services, and this kind of club is one of them.”
These goals seem to have been well met, as the MSC annually
entertains hundreds of visitors from around the globe, many
of them crying out in joy: “Finally! I’ve found a real gay club in
this godforsaken country!”
Two Years of Abstinence
This weekend sees MSC welcoming over 40 visitors from the
Nordic alliance of leather fetish clubs to the Top of Europe
summit, with representatives coming in from Norway, Den-
mark, Sweden, Finland and Estonia. The program includes cel-
ebratory dinners, club nights and a ‘Jock and underwear party’
at the clubhouse. Other activities planned for this year »»»
Text by Haukur Magnússon Photo by Gulli
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