Not A Long Time, But A Good Time - The Diving Bell Social Club
Before The Diving Bell Social Club… there was junk. Lots of junk.
“If you’re brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with a new hello.”
– Paulo Coelho
Venues are places of worship, and like churches and temples, Montreal is filled with them. They are the entry points to our city’s vibrant artistic community. They are reference points, meeting places for people with shared values, culture, and community. Like more traditional places of worship, they can help support individual members of a community during times of anxiety, danger, disaster, and grief. Long, long before organized religion, many societies used venues of worship to mark critical times, harvests, full moons, new moons, births and deaths. Venues and places of worship share a core objective: help people face challenges, build positive relationships, and reach their potential. For this, we all owe The Diving Bell on St. Laurent, in the heart of the Plateau, our sincerest gratitude.
With the news of the December 2023 closure of The Diving Bell came the opportunity to speak with Austin Wrinch about this cherished venue, its place in the community, and plans for the future. Only moments after I arrive at the venue, we jump into the conversation. “We see this as an opportunity for growth and transformation,” Austin tells me. “We always knew this space wasn’t long term, and that we could do better.”
Opening in 2018, The Diving Bell offered Austin and his partners a chance to evolve from their previous space, a DIY venue in Saint Henri called “The Bog”. (For more of the history of The Diving Bell, check out our feature on the venue written by Harper Ladd.) It also offered the Plateau a new, versatile venue in the heart of the neighborhood. “It got to a point where we wanted to do what we were doing more legitimately, on a larger scale. Then we found this place, which was not ideal, but we got it running on a very low budget.”
We discuss the events at The Diving Bell, and the venue’s expansive community engagement. “We specifically built the space, with the colorful lights and smoke machines, to change the vibe accordingly, but without going too hard in any one direction. Is it a music venue? Yes. Is it a drag venue? Yes. A comedy venue? Yes.” Diving Bell has been all this and more during the five years spent on St. Laurent. At this point, it would be difficult to find someone, in any sector of the performing arts in Montreal, who hasn’t either attended an event, or performed on their stage.
Of course, this hasn’t been easy. Austin and his team have faced numerous challenges, particularly with The Diving Bell’s neighbors. “Part of what’s happening now is a result of the neighbors. It’s the same old story. It’s frustrating. It’s unfortunate. We don’t want to be assholes. We have spent a lot of time and money working to soundproof the space, restricting loud events to Fridays and Saturdays.” The Plateau is a vibrant neighborhood, full of life, but like many others in Montreal, it’s certainly changing. What seems necessary to some can be a severe annoyance to others. “Think of a night where you've got 150 people just vibing positively together, sharing art and culture, and there’s that one person who wants it quiet at 10:30 on a Saturday night. I believe it’s our duty to create culture in every space we possibly can. But we have to deal with neighbors, with blowback, and that’s the clinching pin in this situation.”
While difficulties with neighbors are a deciding factor in the closure of The Diving Bell, Austin prefers to emphasize the desire to change, to evolve. An important aspect of that evolution centres on accessibility, something very lacking in Montreal. “We’re really excited about our future plans and goals. Ultimately, the reason this is happening is because…what we’re doing here is working, and it’s proving to be necessary. It’s just that we exist in this very un-ideal spot, physically. The third floor, the lack of accessibility…There’s nothing we can ever do about that. We want to be the space that’s open for anything, but if that doesn’t include being accessible, there’s no way.”
As we near the end of the conversation, I ask Austin what the future looks like to him. “We are a venue, but we’re also a bar. If we had a space that was more compartmentalized, we could have a show going on, but also a place to hang out. It would mean that we could more efficiently support ourselves, and have the power and energy to host more community oriented events and activities that, because of accessibility, we can never fully do.”
It’s difficult to say goodbye to any venue, especially one as integral as The Diving Bell. But with the promise of more to come, a true goodbye seems unnecessary. So, from myself, Forget The Box, and the brilliant Montreal arts community:
Au revoir, Diving Bell, and thanks for the memories.
