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Live music permit crackdown unplugs entertainment at two popular New Orleans bars
Source:
nola.com
- Aug 9, 2012
By Claire Galofaro, The Times-Picayune
The chalk-written sign outside a venerated city dive bar -- typically reserved for its busy calendar of live music acts -- now instead carries an apology to prospective patrons. "Shh!" the sign warns. "Our beloved bar, a famous live music venue for over 14 years, regrets to inform you that until 'issues' with 'zoning' are cleared up, we will not have live performances. Sorry & stay tuned." The Circle Bar on St. Charles Avenue was caught hosting live music without a live music permit in the latest of a string of city-wide sweeps on such licensing infractions.
Dave Clements, who opened the bar in 1998, refers to his missing paperwork as "the mystical live music permit." He's heard people talk about them, he said, but in more than a decade he's never had one and nobody ever told him he should.
A few miles away, Siberia bar on St. Claude Avenue was also recently told to unplug its amplifiers.
The metal bar, open just over a year, knew it was flouting the rules. Its live music permit application was rejected for zoning reasons, but it hosted live music anyway.
"We didn't have a permit, we knew that," said co-owner Daphne Loney. "But we thought it was just a formality, really no big deal."
That it became a big deal last month has revived caricatures of Mayor Mitch Landrieu as bent on destroying the city's musical culture as well as its traditionally laissez-faire approach to organization and paperwork. One local columnist described it as evidence of the mayor's "war on live music" while another blogger opined that the episode showed former Mayor Ray Nagin was better for business.
But Ryan Berni, the mayor's spokesman, said the administration is simply increasing enforcement across the board on laws already on the books.
"Live music is important to us, and it's an important economic driver for this city," Berni said. "It just needs to match the zoning of the neighborhood."
The recent crackdown, coordinated with Essence Festival in early July, targeted businesses in the French Quarter, the Marigny and the Central Business District.
Of the 100 businesses checked for business permits and occupational licenses, around 40 were caught with some sort of problem.
Many have since applied for, and been granted, the appropriate permits, Berni said. The city meanwhile collected about $20,000 in licensing and permitting fees from that sweep, Berni said.
Siberia and the Circle Bar are not the first music venues in recent memory to run afoul of the city's murky permitting requirements.
The legendary Rampart Street bar Donna's on Rampart, formerly Donna's Bar & Grill, shut down in August 2010. New owners bought the business and reopened the renamed venue under the old music license, grandfathered in despite changes in zoning laws. The city later determined that the permit was issued improperly because more than six months had passed between the old bar closing and the new one opening.
A few months later, Bacchanal, a wine and music bar in the Bywater, was caught without permits and violating a variety of health codes. It took five months of hard work before the venue was able to host live music again.
The Bacchanal ordeal was prompted by complaints from neighbors. Not so for the recent pair. Both Siberia and the Circle Bar cite friendly, complaint-free relationships with neighborhood residents and businesses. They just had the misfortune of getting caught by a city sweep.
But like Bacchanal, it could take Siberia months to skirt the complications in the neighborhood's zoning laws.
"We want to play ball, we want to do it the right way," said Loney, who says the owners are willing to repent. "We want to be above board. You can't hide a metal bar. It's not like we're having jazz trios in here. We simply can't function in secret."
Loney said Siberia was added to the City Planning Commission's September docket, and the bar's owners were instructed to bring architectural drawings, maps of the neighborhoods and schematics for soundproofing and insulation. Next they'll appeal to the City Council and, if all goes well, their application for a live music permit could reach the mayor's desk by December. In the meantime, they've laid off half their staff, ushered their favorite bands to other venues and started closing early.
The Circle Bar, though, has its legacy working in its favor.
Last month, two city inspectors walked into the bar and asked to see its mayoralty permits allowing live music, Clements said. He had none and was issued a subpoena to appear at City Hall to clear things up. He went, applied for a permit and learned it was denied because the neighborhood where he's been hosting live music for 14 years is not zoned for live music.
Clements calls the whole mess "insane."
"Without live music, the survival of this bar is questionable," he said. "And without live music, the survival of this city as a tourist destination is questionable too."
Berni acknowledges that the city's permitting could be simplified. A streamlined, one-stop office -- something City Hall has promised for decades -- is supposed to debut this fall.
On Monday, Clements headed back to City Hall with a stack of 60 affidavits signed by musicians at a "notary party" on Saturday night. He carried a decade's worth of newspapers and magazines -- proof that the bar has been actively and openly advertising its live music line ups. He even has photos of a year's worth of chalk signs out front.
If the bar can prove it has been hosting live music, out in the open, for more than five years without getting caught before, the bar will be grandfathered into the zoning ordinance and granted a live music permit.
Berni said that is likely to happen this afternoon.
In the meantime, Clements said, the bar has probably lost as much as $10,000 in wages, tips and profits. He has cancelled performances and the few patrons left have turned to good-naturedly mocking the city for the silence.
A woman dared to strum a song on a ukulele and Clements warned her that her musical outburst might prove to be his bar's undoing: "The mighty Circle Bar," he said, "brought down by a ukulele."
Category: Louisiana
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