Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory
The Atlanta Masquerade opened its doors in the Old Fourth Ward to a cloudy day on September 3, 1989. Within days, the new owners painted almost the entire interior and exterior of the building matte black, including Michael Reeves’ beloved heart pine. Only some areas, such as the granite walls, were left alone. Atlanta marked the business’ third location, though the first one only closed and relocated. This means that from its inception, the Masquerade was more than a building, but also a brand. Rather than starting from scratch, the Masquerade founders—Brian McNamara, Berta Cochran, and Dean Riopelle—brought with them a contingent from Tampa, including established talent such as DJ Czech Mike to spin tracks for the venue’s dance nights. The security guards were largely taken from the recently closed Metroplex, and were thus experienced with allowing crowds to get rowdy, but not too rowdy. While McNamara and Riopelle were involved with the day-to-day activities of the club, the Masquerade went through a series of managers, with some of the earliest being Robb Cohen and Julie Del Cueto—the latter of whom was also part of the Tampa group.[1] [2]
The three floors of the Masquerade were Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. Originally, Heaven was to be the only live music floor in the building, offering a 10,000 square foot room capable of holding 1,500 people—though this capacity was later lowered to 1,300 and eventually 1,000.[3] [4] The stage at the front of the room was 40’ x 20’.[5] Heaven occasionally held DJ sets if the person or genre was popular, for example the nights Susan Strange—a local transgender goth DJ—was spinning. Heaven was the room where Piano Red performed his nightly sets in less than a decade earlier. Walking through Heaven’s doors, to the right was the stage. In the stage left corner of the room was a hallway with restrooms, as well as the loading area for bands to pull their gear up from the ground floor via a wooden platform attached to a rope. Opposite of the stage was the bar—above which was a secret standing area where the bands could “hide,” drink, eat the chef’s famous food, and watch the opening acts until it was their time to perform.
Hell was a 500-person capacity room originally planned to be for themed DJ sets only, such as nostalgic new wave and 70’s punk nights. Eventually, this room also held live music for smaller acts who were unlikely to fill Heaven’s triple capacity space. Walking into Hell, to the immediate right was a staircase where walking down on the wall to the right, bands had their merch stands where some met with fans. Following the wall, opposite of the merch stands was the 105-foot bar.[6] At the end of the bar, on stage left of the room, was another staircase that rose to a viewing area complete with high-top tables and barstools. Directly across from this viewing area was another lifted space made of steel and brick, with cushioned chairs and couches. The seats in these viewing areas were the most desirable in the house, but they were quickly claimed with the “first come, first serve” general admission tickets of Hell.[7] In the center of all this was the dance floor with the stage upfront.
During the building’s tenure as a mill, the original purpose of the rooms that became Heaven and Hell were to store the raw materials needed to make excelsior. It was in the building’s smallest room, Purgatory, where the giant machines once stood. Purgatory was less a venue, than it was a bar that played ambient and/or nostalgic music. If someone needed a break from the concert upstairs in Heaven or from dancing across the hall in Hell, one could relax in Purgatory. Here, patrons had access to a jukebox, billiards, and other table top games.[8] The capacity in Purgatory was 250 people.[9]
The ambient music in Purgatory was sometimes provided by Celtic harpist, Thomas Dodd, who was a figure in Atlanta’s goth scene. Dodd was also the harpist for a local ethereal goth band, Trio Nocturna, who was a favorite of Anne Rice. Following the success of the film Interview with the Vampire, Rice held annual benefit shows on Halloween at the orphanage she owned in New Orleans. The live music at these shows were provided by Trio Nocturna.[10] Even when not performing at the Masquerade, Dodd became an almost nightly fixture at the club during the early 1990s.
On Thursday nights, Purgatory held a late-night open-mic coffeehouse (that also served alcohol), featuring poetry, music, and performance art. The music between acts on these nights were spun by Czech Mike, and the host or “Mistress of Ceremonies” was Kitty Beat, who was a performance poet herself.[11] Open-mic nights started at 10:30 or 11:00 pm, and usually lasted until 2:00 am. Kitty’s main responsibility was to make sure nobody hogged the microphone with too long of an act. She originally hoped the nights would mostly bring people with spoken word performances, though she would welcome musicians; but instead, the opposite happened, as mostly musicians performed on these nights.[12]
A sample of the poetry performed in Purgatory can be found in the work of Malcolm Mundy, who worked at the Masquerade. In March 1990, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution published one of his poems criticizing television in their TV guide. It read:
TV! Which gives us our favorite movie star.
TV! Which promoted Nancy’s drug war.
TV! Which made Ronald McReagan a star.
TV is a drug, let’s unaddict ourselves.
TV! Which brought Don Johnson fame.
TV! Which partially censored Ollie North’s cocaine.
TV! Which promoted Vanna White and her silly game.
TV is a drug, let’s unaddict ourselves.
TV! Which brings us the news.
TV! Which plays the communist blues.
TV! Which provides us with valueless financial cues.
TV is a drug, let’s unaddict ourselves.
TV! Bores me.
TV! Unexcites me.
TV! Nauseates me.
TV is a drug, let’s unaddict ourselves.[13]
In the weeks leading up to the Masquerade’s opening, Dean Riopelle became the club’s spokesman to local media. He described the club as a three-level Danceteria—a well-known four-floor nightclub in New York City. Indeed, a venue with multiple stages under one roof was not unique to the Masquerade, but a brilliant business tactic nonetheless. This allowed the club to take more chances with bands or DJs playing experimental music, as the success of ticket and/or alcohol sales in one room could lessen the hit taken in another. For example, the Masquerade held a rave in Heaven in February 1991, when techno was first hitting the scene, resulting in only 500 people showing up to the room that now had a 1,300-person capacity.[14] On a more positive note, multiple floors also meant that if all three rooms had a successful evening, then the Masquerade made in one night what other clubs did their whole weekend. Furthermore, at other live music venues, when the bands are finished, the rest of the night is over and people leave to go home or to a bar. At the Masquerade, however, once a show was over in Heaven, patrons could keep the party going by walking downstairs to either of the lower rooms.[15]
Fans who saw shows at the Masquerade often remember that the floor in Heaven felt like it was bouncing and could potentially cave in at any moment as hundreds of people danced and moshed. Likewise, the people below in Hell recall seeing the floor upstairs bend. In actuality, this was never cause for concern, as the building was built to hold tons upon tons of heavy excelsior machines and giant wood logs. Thus, the load bearing walls and the heavy timber that made the floors from the DuPre days later provided support for bouncing fans. This also gave some soundproofing, though the music from either floor was never fully muted from the other, as the bass and rumbles from either could be felt and heard in each.
Bookings
On the Masquerade’s opening weekend, only local bands performed, including the Shadow Puppets and Face of Concern.[16] Jane’s Addiction was the first national act booked for the venue, but it was not until December 27, 1989 that the Masquerade hosted the alternative acts that became synonymous with the building. The first of these was My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult, pioneers of the industrial genre whose music and stage shows incorporated sex, Satanism, and anti-Christianity. They later gained a large following after their appearance in the 1994 film the Crow. It should be noted that the Crow, alongside Interview with the Vampire, significantly escalated the overall popularity of goth culture in 1994.
Two weeks after the Thrill Kill Kult’s performance, Christian Death played, who were one of the most influential goth and deathrock bands of the 1980s. In case it doesn’t go without saying, Christian Death was also adamantly opposed to organized religion. Opening for Christian Death was the local band Liers in Wait. Ten days after Christian Death came Ministry and KMFDM, both very influential goth-industrial bands. At the end of that month, January 1990, came the Ramones, perhaps the most famous punk band in history and whose presidential seal logo has become iconic on t-shirts in the music world.
Throughout the early-90s, the Masquerade introduced several bands to Atlanta that would grow to become internationally recognized as the decade progressed. Some on this list include Nirvana, Korn, Nine Inch Nails, Pearl Jam, and Alice in Chains.[17] The venue also brought the first Warped Tour to the city in 1992.[18] Also in 1992, on March 25, a mini-half pipe was constructed in the Masquerade so that Tony Hawk and other skateboarders could skate while the punk band Organ Grinders played.[19] The Masquerade also booked hip-hop acts. Run DMC was scheduled to play on April 24, 1991, though the group canceled because they refused to play club-sized venues.[20] They played the Masquerade two months later on June 22, 1991.[21]
The Masquerade was placed on the national stage when the Lemonheads, a grunge band from Boston, recorded a music video—at the height of MTV—for their song, “The Great Big No,” on December 7, 1993. Recording for the video began at 2:00 am, but people wanting to be extras waited for hours. Some told the local media, “We’re not really big fans, we just wanted to be on MTV!”[22] The following year, Hole performed on October 4, 1994, just six months after Kurt Cobain’s suicide. Here Courtney Love introduced her and Kurt’s daughter, Francis Bean Cobain (wearing headphones), to the audience. At the end of the show, Hole performed “Where Did You Sleep Last Night?” as the band’s encore, during which Love stage dived into the crowd.[23] The photos of her crowd surfing at the Masquerade were published in Spin a few months later.[24]
One of the most legendary and recurring acts at the Masquerade to this day is GWAR. Known for their stage antics that include fake blood, guts, and other bodily fluids being ejected into the crowd, the band occasionally found it difficult to find welcoming venues in the early-90s. For example, they were scheduled to play a venue in Florida in May 1992, but it was cancelled by authorities. However, just before that scheduled show, they played the Masquerade without incident, spraying 45 gallons of simulated blood into Heaven’s sold-out crowd. The Masquerade did have to pay an extra $400 to clean up the “big, red syrupy mess” afterward.[25]
Bands valued the hospitality of the Masquerade. Backstage, musicians had access to laundry—a rarity for small and medium sized venues.[26] The venue also offered free meals to bands, typically composed of a salad, pasta dish, and dessert. Not only were they full meals that were free, which were especially appreciated by small bands touring in their personal vehicles, but they were also decent in taste.[27]
In 1992, Julie Del Cueto, then with the title Director of Bookings, told the Atlanta Journal Constitution that “We focus on national touring acts and try to bring as much underground music to Atlanta as possible, but we like to showcase local bands as much as possible.”[28] Local bands that frequently played at the Masquerade frequently during those early years included Liers in Wait, Trio Nocturna, the Shadow Puppets, and Face of Concern. At this same time, the AJC offered a unique system called “Soundline,” in which local bands would send their tapes or CD’s, as well as upcoming concert dates, to Richard Gincel of the newspaper. Taken largely from Moviefone’s “call-for-show times” model, the paper published ads that read, for example, “Trio Nocturna at the Masquerade on Saturday! Enter access number 751.” If a reader was interested in the show, they could call the Soundline number, dial 751, and samples of Trio Nocturna’s music would play.[29]
The themed dance parties in Hell became just as popular—if not more popular—than the concerts in heaven. What began as DJs just hosting nights of nostalgic music soon became major events of their own. During the 1996 Summer Olympics held in Atlanta, the Masquerade held a “Freak Foam Party” every Friday beginning at 10:00 pm. On these nights, Hell’s dance floor was filled with six-feet of suds that people could dance and play around in while listening to the latest techno tracks.[30]
During the mid-1990s, some of the most well-attended of these nights was “Swing Sundays.” Perhaps because of the popularity of the 1996 film Swingers, swing dancing became a popular fad in the United States. The first held at the Masquerade was in November 1996, where men wore zoot suits, women wore pencil skirts, and “pre-Elvis era” music was spun. The AJC called the Masquerade the “music venue that transforms itself once a week from a rock/rave/punk hangout into a scene reminiscent of Times Square at the end of World War II.” One attendee, Sonya Bowman, said, “We’ve heard so much about alternative music and what’s new, but there’s nothing really new. So the only thing that sounds new is something that’s so old that it never gets played anymore.”[31] Between 200-500 people attended Swing Sundays. Phil Orsi, the owner of the local Fred Astaire Dance Studio, said he originally taught swing dancing mostly to retirees. After the Masquerade hosted Swing Sundays, an average of five to seven people joined his studio each week, shifting the average age demographic to 30-years-old.[32] Swing dancing nights became trendy in Atlanta as other clubs started hosting them as well, though one local club—Johnny’s Hideaway—had been holding them for years.[33] Swing dancing became popular at the Tampa Masquerade when it later re-opened, attracting upwards of 400 people a night.[34] Swing Sundays continued at the Atlanta Masquerade until February 1998.
The Masquerade quickly became a major establishment in Atlanta’s music scene, by offering such varied music every night. One could see death metal, hip-hop, punk, reggae, and soul music, all on the same stage within a week’s time. In 1993, the Masquerade saw an opportunity to expand by converting the area behind the building into an outdoor venue. This area, the Masquerade Music Park, featured vendors selling soft drinks, beer, wine, mixed drinks, snacks, and even dinner entrees, with prices ranging from $1 for a soda and up to $5 for an entrée.[35] This new area held up to 4,000 people, allowing the Masquerade to host festivals and large-scale acts.[36] The first headliner to perform here was Jellyfish on June 19, 1993. Eventually some of the biggest names of the decade, such as the Foo Fighters, played the Music Park. During its second season, the area was upgraded to include the installation of a permanent stage, 20-foot walls, and baffles to improve the sound and lessen acoustics.[37]
Philanthropy
The Masquerade came to be associated with philanthropy, which given the venue’s grunginess, may surprise some. In November 1989, just two months after its founding, the Masquerade hosted benefit shows on November 10 and 23, asking fans to donate either canned food or tokens for MARTA (Atlanta’s rail system). These items were then donated to Hosea Williams’ Feed the Hungry and Homeless for Thanksgiving and Christmas Campaign.[38] The lineup for these shows included local bands the Supreme Court, Cool Joe, Face of Concern, the Shadow Puppets, and Mercyland.[39] To sweeten the deal, Capitol Records donated free records and CD’s to the first 50 people who showed up with canned goods.[40]
The following year, in January 1990, the Masquerade held another benefit show, this time for the Atlanta Pro-Choice Action Committee (APAC). The newspaper advertisements for this show ran alongside its promotion for the upcoming Ramones concert just a few days later.[41] Performers for this show featured the Ellen James Society, the Jody Grind, Right as Rain, She Said, and other local bands.[42] Other benefits in those early years included one for an injured local musician, Steve “Skeletor” Shoemaker; and another for the Feminist Women’s Health Center .[43] [44]
In response to Atlanta getting hit hard by the HIV/AIDS pandemic of the early-90s, a group of local pop and rock bands played at the Masquerade on December 17, 1992, to raise money for Grady Memorial Hospital Pediatrics HIV Infectious Disease Center.[45] The venue also recorded a compilation CD titled Dreams for Tomorrow to raise more money for the same cause. This album featured music by Lava Love, Shrunken Head, Reversing Hour, Michelle Malone, Soul Brother Sacred, Go-Devils, Shadow Puppets, and Hip Heavy Lip.[46]
Not entirely a benefit concert, but along the same philanthropic lines, was the “Stray Doggie Christmas Party” the Masquerade held on Christmas Eve 1993. Most Atlanta clubs were closed that night, yet the Masquerade stayed open for those who had no family or friends to spend Christmas with—“stray doggies.” Music was headlined by Magic Bone, and clubbers could sit on a rock n’ roll Santa’s lap for free CDs and cassettes (courtesy of local Sony and BMG distributors). Free admission was given to those who were 21-and-up and contributed an ornament to the venue’s Christmas tree. Discounted admission was given to “stray pups”—those who brought an ornament, but were under 21.[47] This event was preceded with a Christmas party about a week earlier on December 15, which included the rock n’ roll Santa distributing concert tickets, posters, and CDs. The same tree later used for the Stray Doggie party was lit at midnight, and guests received $2 off their admission for donating an ornament that night. A free breakfast buffet was offered at 2:00 am to those partying through the night.[48] Prior to this, the Masquerade also hosted an annual Toys for Tots benefit concert since at least 1992. [49]
At the end of the decade, a concert to raise money for Habitat for Humanity, called the “Southern Fried Music Festival,” was scheduled to take place on August 28, 1999, at Senoia Raceway in Coweta County. Just two weeks before the show, Coweta officials and the Superior Court—specifically Judge Paschal English—cancelled the show, saying the raceway was not zoned for public concerts.[50] Sean Owen, one of the fundraiser’s organizers, offered to move the concert to the Coweta County Fairgrounds, but they were denied there also. County officials expanded their statement to include that the expected crowd of 10,000 people would cause major problems with traffic, sanitation, food inspection, and security.[51] The Masquerade offered their Music Park for the event, which allowed the benefit show to go on as scheduled. The event is estimated to have raised at least $100,000 for the charity.[52]
Sex
The goth subculture has long been associated with romance and sexuality, and the Masquerade always promoted an openness toward sex. This was perhaps first seen loosely in the weekly drag nights held at the venue which began on August 29, 1990. Because Atlanta still maintained a thriving drag scene, and in an effort to compete with local clubs such as Backstreet, the Masquerade flew in personalities from New York, such as Guy Romeo and Katerina Ballerina.[53] A more blatant early promotion of sex happened on June 29, 1991, when the venue hosted the “Safe Sex Pre-Conception Party,” which included free cassettes, CDs, video, and condoms, all given away by PolyGram Records.[54]
In addition to the above, Dean Riopelle fronted the Impotent Sea Snakes, a rock band that consisted of nine other members including Brian McNamara. When fronting the group, Riopelle went by the stage name “13.” The men in the Sea Snakes dressed in drag on stage and had controversial lyrics such as, “Pope John Paul Can Suck My Dick.” Also, their stage shows were very sexual, typically with the women wearing as little as possible (X’s over their nipples), and S&M antics such as spanking and pouring hot wax on the band and audience members were common, as was performers applying power tools to metal armor over their crotch to emit sparks.[55] Aside from sexuality, their shows featured other controversial stage antics such as killing a stuffed Easter Bunny, and draping the American flag over a crucifix and setting them both ablaze.[56] The Sea Snakes performed frequently at both the Atlanta and Tampa Masquerades, especially on party nights such as the club’s anniversary, Halloween, and New Year’s—the latter of which celebrated their annual Masquerade Ball. The Sea Snakes were eventually featured on HBO’s documentary series Real Sex, and gained a following of celebrity fans and endorsements such as adult-film actress Jenna Jameson and professional wrestler Goldberg.
Starting on February 3, 1993, the Masquerade began hosting “Club Fetish” on Wednesday nights staged by Mon Cherie, who the team brought from Florida. These were weekly fantasy parties in Hell that included goth/industrial tracks spun by DJ Wes Holly (later by DJ Anthony) in which performers and audiences alike would dress in S&M bondage gear—or other fetish wear—to dance and meet others that share their interests. Many had the intent of taking others home.[57] Scenes at these events included women dancing in steel cages, and men on a leash and collar walking on all fours.
Club Fetish became wildly popular, and many people often came from outside-the-perimeter of Atlanta to simply watch. Sometimes it was to see something strange to them; some wanted to engage in the party, but were too shy; but many got their sexual thrill through voyeurism.[58] Mon Cherie welcomed these voyeurs and encouraged everyone to visit when interviewed by local media and through advertisements.[59] Club Fetish became so huge that Mon Cherie and Riopelle decided to open a club that offered the sights and experiences every night of the week. They called their new club “The Chamber,” and opened it in an unmarked warehouse on Cheshire Bridge Road—a stretch of Atlanta known for its sex shops, strip clubs, and gay clubs.[60] Mon Cherie was the Chamber’s star attraction, as well as the one who designed the club and hired the talent. Erik Sizemore of Liers in Wait—who was Mon Cherie’s publicist for a while—credits the Chamber and Mon Cherie with contributing to a rise in the city’s goth population.[61] It certainly popularized the sexuality in the local subculture.
Early Problems for the Masquerade
Every September after the Masquerade was established, the venue held an anniversary show. At their first anniversary in 1990, manager Julie Del Cueto told local media they were celebrating the club’s very successful first year.[62] Even so, the members of Home-grown Industries, who still owned the property and were using the back building as Mellow Mushroom’s commissary kitchen, tried selling 695 North Avenue the following March.[63] It was being sold by Landmark Property, who were asking $1.2 million for the 37,460 square-foot space and 1.7-acre lot.[64] The Masquerade assured people that if and when the building did sell, it would not affect the club immediately, as they had a long-term lease and would remain for its duration.[65]
The property did not sell, but further complications came to city’s nightlife after January 13, 1991, when Michael Adams, a 20-year-old Georgia Tech student, was found drowned in Piedmont Park’s Lake Clara Meer. He had a blood alcohol content over twice the legal limit. Adams was last seen at Club Anytime, an establishment that served alcohol 24/7. However, at some point in the evening, Adams and his friends stopped by the Cotton Club, owned by Mike Reeves—the former co-owner of the Excelsior Mill Restaurant. At 20 years old, Adams was under the legal drinking age, and Reeves asserted that the Cotton Club did not serve him.[66] In fact, in the depositions that Adams’ friends provided to police, they said that they provided Adams with drinks, and that he had nothing to drink at the Cotton Club.[67] Regardless, Mayor Maynard Jackson revoked the Cotton Club’s alcohol license on April 17, 1992.[68] This was the final nail in the coffin for the club, though Reeves would reopen it years later as a second stage in the Tabernacle, a mid-size concert venue owned by Alex Cooley built inside a former church. After the revocation of their alcohol license, Reeves and his Cotton Club co-owner, Dan Nolen, sued the City of Atlanta for causing them to go out of business. Reeves and Nolan won.[69]
The accidental drowning of Michael Adams brought increased scrutiny to the ID checking policies at Atlanta clubs. An article by the local newspaper suggested that more clubs should adopt the Masquerade’s practice, saying that the venue had a better ID checkpoint than most international borders. At the Masquerade, one either purchased a ticket from or presented their advanced ticket to a person at the box office. This allowed them entry into a fenced courtyard, where they had to show their ID to security proving that they were over 21. Upon being satisfied, security wrapped a neon colored wristband on them allowing them entrance, and only then would bartenders serve them. Bartenders were able to quickly discern if they were old enough to drink via the brightly colored wristbands on the typically black clad patrons.[70] If a patron “lost” their wristband, bartenders would refuse to serve them and ask that they go back outside for security to issue them another.
Meanwhile seven hours south, the alternative scene was still thriving in Tampa. An article printed in the Tampa Tribune describes the fashion of the alternative scene to include fitted “leather jackets, body-hugging mini-dresses, sleek leggings, oversized trench coats, gummy bracelets (worn in multiples of 15 or 20), Swatches, long silver chains, inverted crosses, crystals, ankhs, silver earrings, studs on belts and bracelets, boots, high-top sneakers; mostly bought at thrift shops, instead of the mall.”[71] Bands such as Nine Inch Nails, a Flock of Seagulls, and My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult, started to play at the Tampa Masquerade at the turn of the decade.
Four years after the Atlanta punk scene started having problem with neo-Nazi skinheads, Tampa did as well. On March 4, 1990, eight skinheads attacked two white people at about midnight near 15th Street. Someone complained about the group to Tampa’s City Council, asking for more police protection in the area as the skinheads travel between the Masquerade and the Cuban Club—who also booked heavy metal and punk concerts beginning in December the previous year.[72] About two weeks later, on March 22 and March 23, Tampa police arrested 50 patrons at the Masquerade, 45 of which were for underage drinking outside the nightclub. A report says that a minimum of seven officers are needed for Cuban Club shows, and four for Masquerade shows.[73]
Further legal problems hit the local scene in Tampa in October 1990, when police raided the Masquerade and DNA Café (another alternative music venue). People were arrested at both of these clubs on charges related to LSD sales, and both clubs were shut down allegedly due to selling alcohol to minors.[74] The Tampa Masquerade, never opened back up—at least not at 1902 E 7th Avenue.
Manchester
Four blocks west on 7th Avenue in Ybor City, at 1503 E 7th Avenue, sat a historic theatre. It opened in 1917 as the Rivoli Theatre, housing a silent movie cinema on its first floor and a series of apartment units on the second. The building expanded in 1931, reopening as the Ritz Theatre. The Ritz operated as a standard movie theater for 34 years, before transitioning into an adult movie theater screening only pornographic films after December 31, 1965. In September 1983, developer William E. Field purchased the building, hoping to remodel it once again, but by 1987 the bank foreclosed on it.[75] By 1990, the building was owned by Joe Capitano.
The building had two different “parts,” one of which was a nightclub called the Wild Side, which hosted (among other bands) a Grateful Dead cover band. The other side was the historic 400-seat cinema which promoters considered converting to a concert venue.[76] The Wild Side closed on June 3, 1990, and a promoter named Frank Giglio signed a 13-year lease with both sides of the theatre to begin hosting concerts under the moniker “Ritz Productions” starting July 27.[77] Ritz Productions had only been operating in the building for three months when the owners of the now-closed Tampa Masquerade but still-open Atlanta Masquerade gave Giglio a “five-figure fee to relinquish his contract,” and they leased the building from Capitano instead.[78]
Named after “the northern England town that is home to progressive bands the Smiths, New Order, Happy Mondays, and Stone Roses as well as being a hotbed of activity for deejays and dance clubs,” this new entity took the name “Manchester.”[79] The interior was painted red and the furniture was opulent— “styled somewhere between Brooklyn baroque and Alice in Wonderland.” The bar was elegant, with glass shelving, ornate fabric-covered stools, and framed artwork that was reported as being a “fresh relief from the old black and bare dance club standards.” The seats of the theatre were removed.[80] Continuing the multi-room model from Atlanta, the nightclub side of the venue had a deejay spinning nostalgic and alternative music, while the theatre side held live music. The nightclub opened on January 11, 1991. Three days later Nine Inch Nails christened the concert theatre.[81]
Manchester was a hit in Ybor City, though many residents continued calling it the Ritz. Local media referred to the venue either as “the Ritz,” “the Historic Ritz,” or “the Ritz/Manchester.” On March 30, 1991, the Impotent Sea Snakes (now with a rather large following) “wreaked mayhem” onstage at Manchester while University of South Florida Art Professor Theo Wujick painted a giant work alongside them.[82] Death metal band Obituary recorded the music video for “The End Complete” at the Ritz in 1992.[83]
It had been roughly three years since the Tampa Masquerade closed in October 1990. While the Ritz/Manchester was a wonderful nightclub and concert venue at 1503 E 7th Ave, rumors had circulated since Manchester’s inception that the Masquerade would reopen. Sure enough, in July 1993, ads were printed in local newspapers that read “Masquerade: Danceteria now hiring: Bartenders, Bar Backs, Security, Door Persons, Clean Up, Dancers, and Actors.” The Tampa Masquerade reopened inside of the Ritz Theatre, taking over Manchester, on August 7, 1993. They brought with them Mon Cherie’s fetish nights.[84]
Within six months of reopening, the Masquerade made international headlines when two pitchers for the Toronto Blue Jays, Todd Stottlemyre and Dave Stewart, were arrested at the club at 1:30 am on February 20, 1994.[85] It is important to note that the Blue Jays had won the 1992 and 1993 World Series, thus the players were well known. On this night, Stewart was celebrating his 37th birthday with seven of his friends in Ybor City, which happened to be the night before they were to report at spring training. After eating dinner at Stottlemyre’s house, they left in a limousine for an Ybor nightclub called the Blues Ship, where they shot pool and had drinks. Afterward, they decided to go dancing at the Masquerade.[86]
The problem began when Stewart argued with the Masquerade’s doorman, Steven Michael Bell, because Stewart claimed he paid the $3 cover charge for his entire entourage and declined to show his ID or wear the Masquerade’s drink bracelet because “he had enough to drink.” According to the Masquerade’s manager at the time, Kenny Wofford, Stewart got belligerent when he was asked to step aside so others could get into the club. As the argument continued, Stewart asked for a $3 refund, which Bell supposedly threw at his feet, prompting another outburst.[87]
At least seven police officers arrived on scene as Stewart walked away, prompting an officer to grab him. Stewart then pushed the police officer away, as well as another nearby officer, as all seven then attempted to handcuff him. At some point Stewart attacked Officer Scott MacLean giving him facial cuts and bruises, and Stottlemyre attacked Officer Edward Croissant.[88] Stottlemyre later testified that Officer Croissant “appeared out of control,” when the officer pushed him and tackled him to the ground. As he was being handcuffed, Stottlemyre testified that police were also beating him and pushing his face into the concrete as he plead, “please quit hitting me!”[89] Stottlemyre was charged with battery on a law enforcement officer and resisting arrest with violence; he was released on $3,500 bail. Stewart was charged with battery on a law enforcement officer, resisting arrest with violence, and disorderly conduct; he was released on $3,600 bail.[90]
When the formal charges were brought against the players on April 25, their attorney claimed that the charges were over-inflated because of their occupation.[91] The players pled not guilty.[92] During the trial, court personnel were seen asking the pitchers for autographs prior to the opening statements, causing Judge Diana Allen to replace all courtroom personnel believing that the impartiality of the court was compromised. Later, the jury was asked to leave the room in the middle of Officer Croissant’s testimony, so that Judge Allen could scold a court reporter and Croissant when they smiled at each other during his testimony.[93] In the end, following a 36-minute jury deliberation, the players were found not guilty and acquitted of all charges. Stottlemyre and Stewart then signed autographs for the six-person jury.[94]
Atlanta’s Goth Community
As the 90s progressed, the goth subculture became huge, largely because of Hollywood, as well as the success of bands such as Nine Inch Nails, Marilyn Manson, and other bands who all played at the Masquerade. In September 1996, Katherine Yeske, an Atlanta writer who covered the local goth scene, wrote a “Gothic Handbook” for mainstream society in the Atlanta Journal Constitution. Yeske said the biggest goth bands in the local music scene were Trio Nocturna and the Changelings (formerly known as Empire 44, and before that as Liers in Wait), and that the major goth club was the Masquerade.[95]
Then, the subculture came under international fire on April 20, 1999, when Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold arrived at Columbine High School, massacring 12 of their peers and a teacher, and wounding several others. While the perpetrators did indeed frequently dress in black and listen to industrial bands such as KMFDM, they were far from what most people considered “goth.” Nonetheless, searching for answers in the wake of tragedy, the international media scapegoated goths as social outcasts obsessed with death. The AJC interviewed locals about the massacre, including Carissa Craig, an organizer for some of the dance nights held at the Masquerade. She told the paper, “Everyone is very offended at the Gothic term being brought up in relation to this crime.”
The paper also shared an anecdote about a local mother, Linda Cornelius, who had two sons. One of them was a punk rocker who shaved his head and once broke his nose while stage-diving at a concert. The other was a Sunday school honor student and an acolyte at their Episcopal church. Based on appearances, more people assumed the former had more demons than the latter—especially when the article was printed in 1999. However, it was the honor student son who one day took their father’s gun and committed suicide.[96]
[1] “Tix n’ Times,” Russ DeVault, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, April 20, 1990, B4
[2] “Tix n’ Times,” Russ Devault, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, August 31, 1990, D4.
[3] “Various Sites for Varying Tunes,” the AJC, August 2, 2012, B5
[4] “Night Beat,” Russ DeVault, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, December 22, 1989, E4.
[5] Drennen
[6] Drennen.
[7] “Doing it For The Dudes”: A Comparative Ethnographic Study of Performative Masculinity in Heavy Metal and Hardcore Subcultures, John Ike Sewell, Jr., 125-126. Georgia State Thesis
[8] (“In the Clubs – Rock,” the AJC, June 12, 1993, L14
[9] “Various Sites for Varying Tunes.”
[10] Author interview with Thomas Dodd.
[11] Real name Kathleen Scott.
[12] “Strange Brew at Coffeehouses: At 2 Atlanta Nightspots, the Beats Go On, as do Hot Java and Cool Jazz,” Eileen Drennen, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, April 13, 1990, D1.
[13] “TV Watch,” Gerry Yandel, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, March 24, 1990, C15.
[14] “A Combustible Blend of Human and Machine Fuels a Techno Trend,” Richard Gincel, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, June 20, 1992, L10
[15] Eileen M. Drennen Staff Writer. “Mill to Masquerade, New Club Unveiled.” The Atlanta Journal and The Atlanta Constitution, September 1, 1989, E1
[16] Drennen
[17] https://creativeloafing.com/content-266876-real-stories-of-the-masquerade
[18] http://www.masqueradeatlanta.com/about/, retrieved March 28, 2022)
[19] “Onstage,” the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, March 20, 1992, D4
[20] “Night Beat: Off and On,” Russ DeVault, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, April 12, 1991, F3.
[21] “Night Beat: Box Office,” Russ DeVault, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, June 7, 1991, D4
[22] “Lemonhead Fans Line Up for Limelight,” Maureen Downey, the AJC, December 8, 1993, B2
[23] “Concert Review – Hole,” Steve Dollar, the AJC, October 4, 1994, E11
[24] “Newsstand: Blood Brothers,” Bo Emerson, the AJC, January 24, 1995, B3
[25] “Cleaning up the Act,” Don O’Briant, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, May 25, 1992, B2
[26] Author interview with Jack O’Shea
[27] Author interview with Paul Mazurkiewicz
[28] “Club Celebration,” Russ DeVault, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, September 5, 1992, L12
[29] “Be on SOUNDLINE!,” the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, October 9, 1992, F4
[30] “First Look – A Sneak Peek at the Week, July 29-Aug.4, “Foam Fad,” Doug Hamilton, the AJC, July 29, 1996, E1.
[31] “Swing’s the thing in nightclubbers’ fling with ’40s,” Henry Farber, the AJC, February 27, 1997, D7.
[32] “Shall We Dance?” A. Scott Walton, the AJC, February 28, 1997, P7
[33] “Swingtime – Atlanta Steps up to the Dance Floor as the Big-Band Sound makes a Big-Comeback,” Amy Frazier, the AJC, July 11, 1997, G1.
[34] “Coming into the Swing of Things,” Michael Dunn, the Tampa Tribune, September 20, 1997, 55-58 (1-4)
[35] “Outdoor Music Guide – Summer 1994,” Russ DeVault, the AJC, April 24, 1994, N8
[36] “In the Clubs: Neighborhood Hang Outs Tap New Energy,” Russ DeVault, the AJC, June 5, 1993, L12.)
[37] “Outdoor Music Guide – Summer 1994,”
[38] “Tix n’ Times,” Russ DuVault, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, November 3, 1989, D2
[39] “Many Give So Others Can Give Thanks,” Maria Odum, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, November 20, 1989, C2
[40] “Masquerade Benefit to Feed Hungry,” the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, November 21, 1989, B3.
[41] Southern Voice (1988-2010). “Southern voice, January 18, 1990.” 1990-01-18. March 28, 2022, page 14.
[42] “Abortion Rights Group to Benefit from Rock Concert,” Russ DeVault, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, January 25, 1990, E8.
[43] “Heavy Metalists Help Injured Guitarist,” Russ DeVault, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, January 4, 1991, E4
[44] “Calendar: Critic’s Choice,” Dan Hulbert, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, March 8, 1991, F1
[45] “Local Musicians Aiding Kids,” Russ DeVault, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, December 11, 1992, F5
[46] “Atlanta Today: CD Release Party,” Helen Holzer, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, December 17, 1992, D2
[47] “The Masquerade’s Stray Doggie Christmas Party,” Steve Dollar, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, December 24, 1993, P8
[48] “Calendar: Critic’s Choice-Precocious Progeny,” Russ DeVault, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, December 14, 1990, D1.
[49] “Grunge for Kids,” the Atlanta Journal Constitution, December 5, 1992, L12
[50] “Coweta: Habitat Concert is Moved,” the AJC, August 12, 1999, D10
[51] “Concert for Habitat Moved to Atlanta,” Ralph Ellis, the AJC, August 19, 1999, JM7
[52] “Concert for Habitat Moved to Atlanta.”
[53] “Tix n’ Times,” Russ DeVault, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, August 3, 1990, D4
[54] “Night Beat,” Russ DeVault, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, June 28, 1991, C4.
[55] https://en-academic.com/dic.nsf/enwiki/9999730
[56] “Sea Snakes Put on Show that Manages to Shock and Amaze,” Curtis Ross, the Tampa Tribune, April 17, 1998, 101 (3)
[57] “Club Notes,” Russ DeVault, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, January 30, 1993, L11
[58] Interview with Thomas Dodd
[59] “Club Notes,” Russ DeVault, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, January 30, 1993, L11
[60] “Party like it’s 1996: 7 iconic Atlanta nightlife spots of the era,” Scott Henry, Creative Loafing, March 18, 2015, https://www.atlantamagazine.com/90s/party-like-its-1996-7-iconic-atlanta-nightlife-spots/, accessed June 28, 2022.
[61] Author interview with Erik Sizemore
[62] “Tix n’ Times,” Russ Devault, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, August 31, 1990, D4.
[63] “Night Beat: On Stage,” Russ DeVault, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, March 8, 1991, F4.
[64] “Milling Around,” the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, March 13, 1991, C2
[65] “Night Beat: On Stage,” Russ DeVault, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, March 8, 1991, F4.
[66] “Crackdown After Alcohol-Related Death Leaves Rock Clubs with Uncertain Future,” Steve Dollar, the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, June 16, 1992, D1.)
[67] Author interview with Mike Reeves.
[68] “Crackdown After Alcohol-Related Death Leaves Rock Clubs with Uncertain Future.”
[69] Author Interview with Mike Reeves.
[70] “Crackdown After Alcohol-Related Death Leaves Rock Clubs with Uncertain Future.”
[71] “Dressing for the Industrial Revolution,” Susan Swagler, the Tampa Tribune, April 2, 1990, 56 (page 2-F in Bay Life)
[72] “Resident Asks Protection from Skinheads,” Angela Lau, the Tampa Tribune, March 16, 1990, 30 (6)
[73] “Report Targets 2 Clubs,” Phillip Booth, the Tampa Tribune, March 29, 1990, 55 (1)
[74] “Alternative Music Returns,” Philip Booth, the Tampa Tribune, October 3, 1990, 63 (5-F))
[75] http://tourtampabayarchitecture.com/ybor-9
https://www.wtsp.com/article/news/local/the-masquerade-closes-after-nearly-2-decades/67-396395102
https://www.tampabay.com/archive/2006/03/17/life-after-the-masquerade-where-s-ybor-heading-now/
https://www.cltampa.com/news/masquerades-fall-12174134
[76] “Pop Music Notes: Club Closing Down,” Philip Booth, the Tampa Tribune, June 11, 1990, 66 (5-F))
[77] “Music Notes: Tracking On,” Philip Booth, the Tampa Tribune, July 2, 1990, 60 (6-F)
[78] “Alternative Music Returns,” Philip Booth, the Tampa Tribune, October 3, 1990, 63 (5-F)
[79] Swirl World,” Jean Carey, Tampa Bay Times, January 11, 1991, Page 106 (32)
[80] “What’s New in Clubland: Puttin’ on the Ritz,” Steven Perez and Phillip Booth, the Tampa Tribune, January 18, 1991, 86 (20)
[81] Carey.
[82] “Tropical Heatwave Heats Up: The Art of Mayhem,” Philip Booth, the Tampa Tribune, March 22, 1991, 66 (2)
[83] “Party to Death,” Philip Booth, the Tampa Tribune, March 6, 1992, 82 (25)
[84] “Pop Rocks,” Philip Booth, the Tampa Tribune, August 6, 1993, 86 (32)
[85] “Blue Jays Pitchers Arrested in Tampa,” Monica Hamilton and Brian Edwards, the Tampa Tribune, February 21, 1994, 92 (1)
[86] “Pitcher: Officer Out of Control,” Bill Chastain, the Tampa Tribune, November 11, 1994, 21 (Florida/Metro-2)
[87] “Stewart Denies He Punched Police Officer,” Ira Kaufman and Dirk Lammers, the Tampa Tribune, February 22, 1994, 110 (Sports-5)
[88] “Jays Pitchers Enter ‘Not Guilty’ Pleas,” Bill Chastain, the Tampa Tribune, May 18, 1994, 124 (Sport-5)
[89] “Pitcher: Officer Out of Control,” Bill Chastain, the Tampa Tribune, November 11, 1994, 21 (Florida/Metro-1)
[90] Hamilton and Edwards
[91] “Stewart, Stottlemyre Formally Charged,” Orval Jackson, the Tampa Tribune, April 26, 1994, 18.
[92] “Jays Pitchers Enter ‘Not Guilty’ Pleas,” Bill Chastain, the Tampa Tribune, May 18, 1994, 124 (Sport-5)
[93] “Judge Replaces Staff in Baseball Players’ Nightclub Fight Case,” Bill Chastain, the Tampa Tribune, 125, (Florida/Metro-1)
[94] “Pitchers Acquitted in Ybor Altercation,” Bill Chastain, the Tampa Tribune, November 16, 1994, 1.
[95] “Preview: The Cure – 8 Tonight. $18.25-$29.25,” Wendell Brock, the Atlanta Journal Constitution, September 6, 1996, P1.
[96] “Colorado School Massacre – Special Report – The Psychology – What Turns Tean Angst into Tragedy?” Bo Emerson, the AJC, April 22, 1999, B3.
Painted Black 