Le fin de l'Espace

Late last evening I got a call to go down to l'Espace.

As many people know who read the vancouverjazz.com forum or the local papers, the city just closed down one of Vancouver's most unique and beautiful performance spaces. I received numerous requests for an on-line letter writing campaign to save this one-of-a-kind venue, but it was all for naught.

I first discovered the place several years ago when Viviane Houle started a short-lived Salon series, featuring songs by a wide stylistic range of local singers. The moment I walked in the door, I was in another place, certainly not Vancouver. Maybe Montréal, maybe Paris. The place was too damn cool, all this exposed brickwork and a giddy eclectic decor that was just so right. A lot of people spoke French, whether they could or not, and the wine and food flowed out of the kitchen area, and the music was transcendent.

As I understand it, Régis Painchaud and a friend discovered this place under the Granville St. bridge about 10 years ago. It was an early 20th century garage, probably one of the first places in the city where cars could be worked on. It was abandoned, full of ratshit and syringes and they were contracted to salvage building materials before the city demolished it. It was owned by the city, but rather than destroy it, these two realized the potential of this building and covertly renovated it.

By the time I discovered it, it was quietly being operated as a performance venue, a frequent film location, and a place to hold private receptions, including the COPE election-night party when Larry Campbell got elected as mayor. It stuck in the craw of of the beaurcrats at city hall that they had been outflanked. Régis had powerful political allies, particularly in Jim Green. They had a concept that the whole area around the l'Espace building could be converted to an artistic hub for the city. There was an ongoing battle between the politicos and the pencil-pushers to keep this place open.

I was involved with presenting a NOW Orchestra show there exactly three years ago when the city shut l'espace down. It was 5:00 the day of the show when Coat called me to tell me the gig was off. We all went down there for a drink as the musicians showed up for Coat to pay them for not playing. Régis had already been entered in negotiations with the city to do what was necessary to make the place legit. These talks dragged on for years and he was always optimistic that common sense would prevail. During this time, a very limited number events were allowed to happen.

When the NPA's Sam Sullivan stole the last civic election, the writing was on the wall. Any pet project of Jim Green's was doomed and the pencil-necks at the permits department saw their opportunity to move. They set conditions for Régis that could never be met, and no amount of public appeal would stop them.

I got down there at 11:00 pm, just an hour before the doors were to be locked forever. The first person I saw inside was a security guard sent by the city to ensure the deed was done. Régis was there, bone-tired but as gracious as ever, also Viviane Houle and Stefan Smulovitz. Régis had a few items left that he thought could be used at 1067, and some things he wanted to store there. The place was gutted to the walls, and there were a lot of boxes and various items strewn around the main floor. I loaded up my car with the things for 1067. At the end, just before midnight, Régis dug through a box to find a small gift for my daughter.

It was heartbreaking.