A pink glow washed over the white gallery walls at the Walker Art Center as people of various ages and races wandered and grabbed a seat at a table or on a silver couch, then ordered a mixed drink from the bar. There’s a bar inside the Walker Art Center’s galleries, and it’s the cleanest gay bar anyone’s ever seen.
It’s part of the art exhibition “The New Eagle Creek Saloon” that transforms into a functional bar on Thursdays from 5-9 p.m. A re-creation of and homage to artist Sadie Barnette’s father’s Eagle Creek Saloon, the first Black-owned gay bar in San Francisco in 1990, the bar is part of the art exhibition itself. Happy Hour Thursdays are organized in collaboration with Mama San Bar Collective and open to all.
“My dad’s bar was going to be lost to history, a treasure to only those who were there, but I knew that I needed to tell this story so I wanted to shout the name of the Eagle Creek as loud as I could,” artist Sadie Barnette said. “To do that with a party, with lots of collaboration, with art that is alive ... feels right and right on. Sometimes when there is no archive you have to make your own.”
For Barnette, “The New Eagle Creek Saloon” is a “Black gay bar, for everyone.”
While it’s certainly not a permanent gay bar like local watering holes the Saloon, Eagle MPLS, or the 19 Bar (people are fundraising to bring it back to life after the tragic fire recently) or the soon-to-be collectively owned queer/lesbian bar the Brass Strap (expected to open in 2025), the New Eagle Creek Saloon is bringing a people of color-centered LGBTQ bar to the Twin Cities.
“As a Black queer person, this is a space that I just kind of enjoy being able to see, learn about my history, learn about the culture, and find out more about the people who came before me who allowed for me to be able to be openly out and about as a Black queer person without any fear or shame or anything like that,” said Leander Lacy, 41, of Brooklyn Center, who was there last week for the second time.
Yelena Bailey was hanging out there last week with three friends in the atrium area, catching up after the long workday.
“It’s a cool re-creation of a safe space that historically existed and we don’t have as much of that in the Twin Cities as we should,” said Bailey, 37, of the Ericsson neighborhood in south Minneapolis. “I think it’s a celebration of the life that we have, and not just all the ways that we’re historic and marginalized.”