Bovine Sex Club's Birthday

500 Weeks #43

The Bovine Sex Club in Toronto is celebrating it's 30th anniversary this month. Below I take a look back at the photos I took and words I wrote on the Bovine’s 4^th Anniversary party. They were originally printed in my EyeSpy social column on March 23, 1995:

MOO FOR VICTORY: The standard bearer of Queen St W. black-clad attitude, the Bovine Sex Club lit up the candles on birthday No. 4. A long time in dog years and an eternity for a club, but what is it in cow time?

Getting things moo-ving (right, l&r) co-owners Darryl Fine and Art Gilewski with Jersey, the hard liquor heifer (but you can call him Glenn).

Corralled in the back, musician Dave Kiner, genetic engineer (“no shit”) Angela Andersen, fashion designer Tracy Taberner, Ph.D student Rebecca Wittmann and “ramp mama” Jennifer Hunter.

Herding together Junk guitarists Dayon and Morbeaus, sculptor Danielle Simms, Junk vocalist Phil and performance artist Mothity.

More photos, that were not originally printed in the newspaper:

(L-R) Viola Werner, chemist; André Berezowsky, artist and Paula Guhl, computer artist 

My notes indicate, left to right: Sara Miatello, architect; Soraya, singer/songwriter from NYC; Vera Jones, of Venni; Shanon Cassells, model, and in the centre, Levy Weber, actor 

(L-R) John Smith, musician / soda jerk; Laura Bloskie, bartender / actress; Jim Reyes, sou chef waiter

(L-R, front row) Judy Im, student "actually"; Jason Brisebois, Bop security; Daphne Flint, student; Laura Im "nothing", and in back, Rob Nikiforuk, Whiskey Saigon security 

There used to be a coin-operated pool table at the back of The Bovine Sex Club, with raised seating around the edges. Patrons would line up to play by putting their coins on the edge of the table. When their coins came up, that customer got to play the current player to try and win control of the table.

One of my favourite Bovine memories comes from the early 90s as I was hanging out in the raised seats, watching as some overly muscled dude in a tight t-shirt strutted around as he won a few games.

One of the players in waiting was Ella – who I did not yet know – who was out for a fun night with a group of her girl friends, dressed in heels and a little black cocktail dress that was seriously tight and seriously sexy. Covered everything, hid nothing. Mr. Cocky dude was condescending from the start, checking her out top to bottom and promising to go easy on her. He shot first, but did not sink anything on the break. He made some other comment Ella did not appreciate, and I could see a change in her eyes that indicated that fun was done and she now meant business.

Ella then checked out the table as she chalked her cue, made a call for her first shot and sunk the ball. Then she called her second shot and sunk it. Then the next and then the next and the next.

I could not believe my eyes and was giggling off to the side as I watched Mr Cocky Dude’s cigarette start drooping as his mouth started hanging open as he could not believe what was happening to him.
Ella then ran the table, sinking every ball in one go. She dismissed him with a hand wave and the sparkle of fun came back into her eyes, as she and her gang of female friends took over the table.

I was giggling up a storm off to the side, but do to the high volume of the music, no one could hear me. I spent many an enjoyable evening in the place, but the pool table incident remains one of my fondest memories.

Suze Johnson, behind the bar at the Bovine in 1998.

When the The Bovine Sex Club opened in downtown Toronto in 1991, I lived a couple of block away, but was not cool enough to get in. The owners’ idea of “a rock ‘n roll Cheers” sounded like everyone was welcome, did not stop them from having an exclusive door policy. You had to be someone in the scene to actually get in, and I was turned away several times. 

The crowd basking in the TV glow, 1998

As the 90s moved forward, and I became a busy editorial photographer that could offer the bar exposure in the newspaper I was working for, my cool factor rose enough that I could enter. It helped when friends of mine began working behind the bar, and eventually, being the head of security.

The name aside, the place is not a sex club. It is a legendary rock and roll dive bar, with live bands, five nights a week, 365 days a year. It is decorated inside and out, with an excellent collection of found objects, curiosities and junk, all under a warm, Christmas light glow that provides a warm ambience that I have always enjoyed. 

As the bars’ years piled on and it was no longer the hot new place, it did indeed become a rock ‘n roll Cheers, with a less restrictive entrance policy and a great place to start or end a night out, or just to hang out all night in.

Technical: Nikon FM2 camera with MD12 motor drive using Nikon lenses and Fujifilm 400 ISO Super-G colour negative film. Lighting is with a Vivitar 285HV flash.