Founded in 1907, the United Arts Club is a haven, a venerable members club for arty folk. It was once a regular haunt of mine; last Friday night the celebration of Stinging Fly publisher Declan Meade's 40th birthday was very much in line with local tradition.
Troubadours, troublemakers and true geniuses bopped in the spacious front room with the sash windows open to the street below. Others blathered endlessly in the armchairs on the landing. The basement patio rang with repartee, and perched by the bar drinking whisky I was overwhelmed by waves of nostalgia, for the parties and exhibitions and larks of years gone by. Moments later I was overwhelmed by waves of Guinness as a pint was poured over me. Shuddering as the brown water trickled into my navel, and the bartender gingerly patted my shoulder with a towel, I recalled the old days - Ulick O'Connor receiving a light drubbing from a dominatrix and insisting on calling the guards, Camille performing the Masochism Tango when she was just starting out, some odd guru chanting away before a sudden bite on the arm from a stranger...God be with the days.
Members can hire the function room and bar, and book keenly priced B&B rooms in the club. For a certain class of literary and artistic maven, it's a home from home. For others, it's a kip. The profile of the current membership is aging, and this place is ripe for a takeover. Now that the emphasis has shifted from conspicuous consumption and corporate fellatio to open acknowledgment of the life-enhancing value of cultural and artistic activity, it is hoped that a new generation will discover and reinvigorate this hallowed institution in the heart of Georgian Dublin. read more