Reykjavík Grapevine - mar. 2023, Síða 21

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MUSEUM OF DESIGN
AND APPLIED ART
GARÐATORG 1
210 GARÐABÆR
OPEN TUE–SUN 12–17
WWW.HONNUNARSAFN.IS Instagram Facebook honnunarsafn
EXHIBITIONS
HÖNNUNARSAFNIÐ SEM HEIMILI
AT HOME IN
THE DESIGN MUSEUM OPENS 27.01.
THE PLATFORM
BEST BOOK DESIGN FROM ALL OVER
THE WORLD 2022 OPENS 20.01.
RESIDENCY
ADA STAŃCZAK
CERAMIC DESIGNER OPENS 20.01.
Iceland’s architect
Jóhannes hired Iceland’s most
prominent architect, Guðjón
Samúelsson, who would later
design many of the country’s
cardinal landmarks, including
Hallgrímskirkja, the University of
Iceland’s main building and the
national theatre.
“As with all of Guðjón’s build-
ings, Hotel Borg set a new stan-
dard,” says Pétur. “The most lavish
parties, the best dances and first
class rooms. It was the centre of
entertainment and cultural life in
Reykjavík.”
A tight one-year deadline
was set for the project at a cost
of 1 million Icelandic króna (300
million in today’s value). No
expenses were spared, including
sending Guðjón abroad to study
the latest in hotel design. Built in
a neoclassical style, Borg remains
one of Reykjavík’s more stunning
landmarks.
“The interior demonstrates
the more fashionable trends of
the time. The chandeliers were
Bauhausian and Guðjón travelled
to Denmark to buy designer
furniture,” Pétur explains. “A
master decorator was brought in
from Hamburg and he painted
the ornaments in the lobby that
have art deco elements. Today,
you would call his style airbrush,
but that was revolutionary at the
time.”
Stepping into Hotel Borg today
is to be transported back to a
more lavish time, before Nordic
functionalism and minimalism
took over. “In European cities,
you’ll find many comparable or
even more beautiful buildings, but
for Iceland this was remarkable,”
says Pétur.
The foreign visitors
From day one, Hotel Borg was the
place to be in Reykjavík, playing
host to most of the famous visi-
tors to Iceland. Ella Fitzgerald
and William Faulkner stayed
during their respective visits, and
Marlene Dietrich performed in
Borg’s Gilded Hall. British poet W.
H. Auden wrote about the hotel in
his rather listless 1937 travel book
“Letters From Iceland,” explaining
that it was the only place in town
to get a drink, before remarking
“if you can afford it,” thus demon-
strating that despite how much
has changed, very little actually
has.
Hotel Borg was, for many
years, the only gig in town, and, in
the spirit of its cosmopolitan flair,
only international musicians were
hired to play during its formative
years — much to the chagrin of
the local talent. It wasn’t until
1944, when the Icelandic govern-
ment needed a ballroom to host
its independence reception, that
Jóhannes conceded to allowing
local talent to perform. In fact,
for the duration of the musi-
cian strike of that era and up to
the government’s intervention,
Jóhannes had opted for a gramo-
phone player to entertain his
guests, unwittingly making Borg
Iceland’s debut DJ venue.
But it was for a different kind
of first for which the hotel bar
would earn its notoriety.
An oasis in an
oppressive desert
“The boys at Borgin don’t offend
anyone, although they kiss and
flirt, walk around with pink drinks
and frozen smiles.” So goes the
opening line of Bubbi Morthens’
song “Strákarnir á Borginni,”
which tells the story of how Hotel
Borg became the first de facto gay
bar in Iceland.
The story of Icelandic women
cavorting with American GIs
during WWII is well documented,
but less so is the story of Icelandic
men who were equally attracted to
these dashing troops. It was at the
bar at Hotel Borg, in the darkness
of the only dance venue in town,
that men and women alike would
intermingle with uniformed
men from across the pond. In the
decades that followed, the hotel
would be a haven for gay men who
were otherwise forced to live in
hiding in a discriminatory society.
“In the 60s and 70s it was an
oasis in the desert for gay men,”
says Hörður Torfason, the founder
of LGBTQ rights organisation
Samtökin ‘78. “Everyone knew
about the noon bar at Borgin; it
was the best spot to fish.”
Hörður was 18 when he started
working as a waiter at Hotel Borg
and he remembers fondly the
scene that formed around the
gay community that frequented
the spot. According to Hörður,
the regulars largely comprised an
older generation who had spent
their weekends throughout WWII
hooking up with U.S. troops.
“Society at the time was
oppressive, but the doormen and
waiters didn’t care that you were
gay. Those years at Borgin were
funny and enjoyable,” Hörður
recalls. “Everybody knew, but
everybody pretended they didn’t.”
“The culture there was charm-
ing and tempting and everybody
who was anybody in town went,”
recalls Hörður. “Borgin was the
centre of gravity for culture in the
capital and wherever there is fun
and entertainment you’ll find gay
men.”
Avoiding life as an
office space
Jóhannes retired in 1960 and by
the 80s Borg’s golden years were
behind it. The hotel’s once elegant
interior was deteriorating and
its financial situation was dire.
Parliament had plans to purchase
the hotel in 1989 for office space,
until an unlikely saviour came
along.
“Davíð Oddson, then mayor
of Reykjavík, had the municipal
government buy the building in
1990 to stop parliament from
turning it into offices,” explains
Tómas Tómasson, perhaps better
known as Tommi á Búllunni or,
for international readers, Tommi
of Tommi's Burger Joint. “I then
purchased the business from the
city in 1992 and, over the next 10
years, invested in returning it to
its former glory. At the time it
looked more like a hostel than a
luxury hotel.”
Since then, Hotel Borg has
been through several rounds of
renovations, but it is once again
in a state befitting a landmark
with such an illustrious history.
Hotels are ubiquitous in modern
Reykjavík, but only one symbolises
the spirit of a nation regaining its
independence, stepping out of the
mud huts to become a city.
Hotels are ubiquitous in modern Reykjavík, but only one symbolises the spirit of a
nation regaining its independence, stepping out of the mud huts to become a city.
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