Have you ever tried describing the appeal of Bar des Arts (BdA) to a non-McGillian, only to be faced with the realization that its allure is absurd? No off-campus bar has BdA’s signature fluorescent lighting. On top of that, Montreal nightlife venues typically have places where you can sit and enjoy your drink—seating that is less limited than the weirdly placed and mysteriously stained couches in BdA (have they checked them for bedbugs?).
The average BdA-goer will undoubtedly face a line, bringing passersby to wonder, “What concert could all these people be waiting for?” Unfortunately, no concert will be taking place. In fact, good music might not even be on the night’s agenda. What awaits those lining up in the Leacock basement at 5 p.m. on a Thursday is… another line, where they wait to purchase tickets for drinks, after which they will face another line that becomes more cutthroat, as everyone tries to push to the “bar” and get their cups filled with cold(ish) beers. Don’t forget to add on the wait for the most mediocre grilled cheese you’ve ever tasted. Maybe you’ll be lucky enough to bump into someone you know while waiting—only to be unable to have a conversation at a normal volume due to the ten other conversations happening next to you, paired with some shoving.
BdA also has a major temperature problem. This could be because having hundreds of students packed into a room in a basement doesn’t allow for decent air circulation. The place is scorching, and don’t expect it to feel any better once the winter months hit. To make matters worse, in the winter, students all wear coats to get there. This leaves the entrance of BdA barricaded with hundreds of jackets—a true struggle for those trying to distinguish which black puffer could possibly be theirs. Unless you hope to wait in a never-ending line, overheat in a basement, and possibly lose your coat this winter, you probably don’t need to check BdA off your McGill bucket list.
While there are clearly some deterrents to attending, science can’t explain the serotonin that one gets from drinking a lukewarm beer in the Leacock basement. Picture this: It’s a gloomy Thursday at 5:30 p.m., you’ve just aced the “How Not to Pass a Midterm” exam, and you’ve practically taken up permanent residence on campus since the crack of dawn. What’s your go-to plan? If you’re a dedicated patron, you strut your woes down to the Leacock basement. The early start makes it convenient and low commitment. If you’re going to a party later, BdA is the ideal place to be before the pre starts. If you want more excitement, you can head to Gerts and catch some live music, but if not, you can go straight to bed and make it to your 8:30 the next morning no problem.
Now, let’s talk about the better aspects of the ambiance. When do you think it’s easier to strike up a conversation with a stranger: When you’re sober and dressed like a regular human, or when you’re balancing two ciders and dressed like Sue Sylvester? BdA’s themes will make you smile entering Leacock, which is a rarity. Students can dress up and listen to music related to the weekly theme, and no worries if you don’t remember anything—you can catch pictures of yourself by the BdA photographers on their Google Drive. Moreover, the basement isn’t just fun for patrons; the BdA staff enjoy a sense of community and fulfillment. U2 staff member Campbell Graham says, “There’s nowhere else I would rather be on a Thursday night.”
It’s clear that McGill faces a challenge concerning ‘third places,’ or environments that foster social interaction and communal engagement among its student body. Consequently, this deficiency has contributed to the popularity of on-campus establishments like BdA, Blues, or 4 à 7. More than the allure of reasonably priced beverages, the enticing prospect of partaking in on-campus revelry draws students to these locales. While the lines, the sweatiness, and the “where’s my coat?” may give us pause, you know where we’ll be next Thursday.
