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Jun 3, 2018

Haunted by the Loss of Hangar

Saoirse Ní Scanláin remembers the long nights and the cultural impact of Hangar, as it closes down.

Saoirse Ní ScanláinMusic Editor
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In 2014, Dublin’s beloved Andrews Lane Theatre changed its name, leaving behind it a lengthy era of theatre and messy clubbing. Those of us old enough will remember foam parties, Freshers’ nights covered in UV paint and Friday nights at WAR.

As the experiences in Andrews Lane Theatre became mere memories for those of all ages in Dublin, a new crowd was writing the venue a new and improved future. They would strip it back, paint it black and rename it Hangar. Although successful, the project was, unfortunately, short lived. Just this week, Hangar informed thousands that it would be closing with immediate effect, littering social media with heartbroken lamentations of its loss. In an email statement to The University Times, incoming Chair of Dublin University DJ Society (DUDJ) Tadhg Ó Míocháin said: “It’s sad that such an iconic venue has had to shut its doors prematurely, without being given a proper send off.”

Hangar gifted Dublin a warehouse space in the city centre, just as the electronic music scene in Dublin was maturing and making it onto monthly club listings. More and more DJs were landing in town and they needed space to play to hundreds, while people in Dublin needed somewhere to spend their nights without tripping over high heels and slices of toast on South William St.

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Hangar satisfied this hunger, enriching Dublin’s electronic music and club scene and quickly became a local favourite. Since it opened its doors, Hangar has seen some greats grace its decks: Mike Skinner, Boiler Room, Richy Ahmed, Format B and DJ Seinfeld to name but a few.

Since it opened its doors, Hangar has seen some greats grace its decks

While making a name for itself in the international club scene, Hangar admirably always stayed true to its roots, always eager to give local, burgeoning talent a platform. As Ó Míocháin mentioned: “Hangar’s music policy kept Irish audiences in touch with the diverse and ever changing landscape of electronic music, between bringing huge numbers of well established and emerging international electronic music producers and DJs to Dublin, to promoting Irish acts and giving huge opportunities to local DJs and collectives, like Tommy Holohan and Kettama, to showcase their talent.” Hangar was focused, driven and the hard work paid off.

It seemed to be open almost every night, but would always be in such demand that, in its early days, the queue outside often turned into a riot of pushing, cursing and shouting through a sea of waving IDs. Strangely, I look back fondly upon almost being crushed waiting to go in. Some of the deepest yet most meaningless moments were had while sharing a rollie, as you sat on the street or “smoking area” outside the front of the venue. You would wake in the morning with ringing ears, remembering very little of what was said, a triangle stamped on your wrist and a serious case of the sads. But it was great. Each visit saw a familiar face and a host of new ones. It was cheap, no frills and had just the right amount of scald.

Hangar’s atmosphere and demographic changed through early 2016, as other clubs in Dublin took on similar forms and played similar music. Opinions on Hangar grew undoubtedly mixed. It meant an awful lot to some of us, while to others Hangar was less tolerable. It lost its initial niche, but nevertheless Hangar remained unique and special against a saturating electronic and techno club scene. You either loved to love it or you loved to hate it.

But in losing its niche, what was it that gave Hangar that…something? Despite the club’s well established role in the development of Dublin’s electronic music scene, there has always been more to it. Hangar arguably gained its own, dedicated cult following, keeping it at full capacity event after event. Was it the endearment of the ever deteriorating toilets? The thin black sludge that always covered the floor? The bucket hats? The cheap cans? “[It] smelled like sick all the time and had the most dangerous slippy stairs in Ireland. That’s a reason to love and hate it”, said Aifric Ní Chríodáin, a former Trinity College Dublin Students’ Union (TCDSU) Communications and Marketing Officer and Hangar regular, in an email statement to The University Times.

It left its mark on me and a generation of people like me

Dublin has changed since 2014 and in the true nature of Andrews Lane Theatre, so has Hangar. One large room became two, the club experimented with music and event genres, new bouncers, new patrons and new drink deals. But through it all, Hangar maintained a consistency unlike any other Dublin club through the community that it created. Like most clubs, Hangar indeed had its fair share of scandal and mishaps. However, it was the companionship and togetherness of the Hangar community, of the management, producers, DJs and club goers alike that truly made it the club what it was. “Hangar united a generation of party goers in Dublin in a way that most other clubs can’t”, said Ó Míocháin.

Now, as it closes up shop for the last time on Andrews Lane, we know Dublin will feel that bit different without Hangar. The outside walls of the club will no longer be a space for colourful murals by local artists and the inside will be fitted with hotel furniture. Management have implied there is more to come from Hangar elsewhere, but this only somewhat numbs the blow of its closure.

For those to whom Hangar was a lifestyle and a home, its loss is more akin to that of a dear friend. “Hangar gave me more than I bargained for and I’ll miss it immensely. It left its mark on me and a generation of people like me, who found a place for themselves in Dublin’s nightlife and club culture as its result”, said Ó Míocháin.

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