SEXGARAGE- The Party!

The Party

July 14, 1990.

Dancers ©Linda Dawn Hammond 1990

SEXGARAGE began for me with a phone call on July 14, 1990 from Nicolas Jenkins, the organizer of several great underground parties in Montreal in the late 80s and early 90s, all of which had fabulously seductive names such as CANDYBAR, and... SEXGARAGE. Nicolas wanted me to attend the evening's event and take photographs.
I almost refused as I was exhausted. I had just returned from photographing a wedding in Chateaugay (is that how it's spelled?), and it had proved a disastrous day! The local Mohawks from Kahnewake were blocking the bridge in sympathy with the Mohawks of Kanehsatake, who had been engaged in an armed revolt with the S.Q. (Regional Quebec Police) since July 11th. As a result of an unexpected detour, I had missed the wedding ceremony entirely - a major inconvenience for the couple as I was their Official Photographer!

When Nicholas had called with the party invitation, I'd hesitated- but then decided to go. I had been working on a long term photography project, documenting the underground gay and punk scenes since the late 70s, and wanted to shoot VOGUING before it died the inevitable death of all trends... I started the night at a bar on St.Denis, Bar Lezard, which was having a "Casino Night", before heading to Sexgarage at around 1 am.

Casino ©Linda Dawn Hammond 1990

Tricki Nicki and Vava Vol ©Linda Dawn Hammond 1990

SEXGARAGE was, by all standards (well, mine), relatively quiet for one of these affairs. It was a largely gay crowd, sprinkled with straight club kids - a cocktail blend of race and sexual orientation which reflects what is best about Montreal, a city which embraces difference with enthusiasm. At least, that is what Nicholas' parties and our mixed scene was like in those days. Outside of the warehouse walls at de la Gauchetiere and Beaver Hall Hill however, things of a different nature were brewing.

Johnny and ami ©Linda Dawn Hammond 1990

I was just about to go home as an unpleasant personal situation was underway. My ex, who had unceremoniously dumped me in public the previous night for one of our mutual friends, was there flaunting the conquest in my presence. The other person's unhappy lover was stewing in a corner and trying to draw me into a mutual assessment of our pain. I wanted nothing of it.

Suddenly, I was informed that everyone had been asked to leave the premises. The police had allegedly entered, made the announcement to the organizers, and left! The cops were no-where to be seen, and as the lights were still down and the music playing- no-one took the report seriously and continued doing whatever it was they were doing- dancing, flirting, traumatizing ex-lovers .
Rumours started to circulate, that someone from the party (Bruce Buck) had tried to re-enter the building to retrieve a forgotten coat. The police had dragged Buck behind parked cars and beat him bloody, thinking they were out of view. He was then arrested and taken away, charged with assault! Some friends of mine had watched this violent act from their vantage point in the upper window of a neighbouring loft, but when asked to testify, told me that they, "didn't want to get involved" by coming forth as eye witnesses ...

When I and the others remaining left the party, we saw...

To the attack on Beaver Hall Hill

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OR

Whirrled Newz


	SEXGARAGE was, by all standards (well, mine), relatively quiet for one of these affairs. It was a largely gay crowd, sprinkled with straight club kids - a cocktail blend of race and sexual orientation which reflects what is best about Montreal, a city which embraces difference with enthusiasm. At least, that is what Nicholas' parties and our mixed scene was like in those days. Outside of the warehouse walls at de la Gauchetiere and Beaver Hall Hill however, things of a different nature were brewing.


	I was just about to go home as an unpleasant personal situation was underway. My ex, who had unceremoniously dumped me in public the previous night for one of our mutual friends, was there flaunting the conquest in my presence. The other person's unhappy lover was stewing in a corner and trying to draw me into a mutual assessment of our pain. I wanted nothing of it.

	Suddenly, I was informed that everyone had been asked to leave the premises. The police had allegedly entered, made the announcement to the organizers, and left! The cops were no-where to be seen, and as the lights were still down and the music playing- no-one took the report seriously and continued doing whatever it was they were doing- dancing, flirting, traumatizing ex-lovers . Rumours started to circulate, that someone from the party (Bruce Buck) had tried to re-enter the building to retrieve a forgotten coat. The police had dragged Buck behind parked cars and beat him bloody, thinking they were out of view. He was then arrested and taken away, charged with assault! Some friends of mine had watched this violent act from their vantage point in the upper window of a neighbouring loft, but when asked to testify, told me that they, "didn't want to get involved" by coming forth as eye witnesses ... When I and the others remaining left the party, we saw... To the attack on Beaver Hall Hill