Historic NYC gay nightlife company parties on
Sept. 29, 2019
NEW YORK — Within the spray-painted outlines of a miniature dirt football field outside of the metal hangar thumping with techno bass in East Williamsburg, six burly men, dressed in leather jockstraps, football shoulder pads and colorful wrestling singlets, pulled at each end of a massive rope. After about 45 seconds of flashy grunting and muscles flexing in a close match of tug-of-war, one side heaved the golden tinsel knot over its line and silver confetti shot from a canon on the sideline.
Standing under a green hand-painted banner taped onto stacked shipping containers that read, “Your Team Sucks Our Team Swallows,” Daniel Alexander Osach, a paid dancer for the event, yelled to the crowd, “Who wants to pull on my rope next?”
Among rows of industrial warehouses on the night of Sept. 28, gay nightlife production company the Saint At Large threw its first fall party in four years, called Homecoming 2019: A Sporty Affair. In the spirit of fall football season, patrons enthusiastically dressed to the sports theme of the night. Smaller in comparison to the Saint At Large’s yearly springtime Black Party, a historic name in gay nightlife culture, this party served as a warmup.
This event comes at a time when queer culture and New York nightlife are in transition, threatening the existence of the Saint At Large. After throwing LGBTQ parties for 40 years, the company was uncertain it would still be in operation this year. The landscape of queer nightlife in New York has radically changed in the decades since the 1969 Stonewall Riots, with the loss of 20th century mega clubs and rise of single-use venues and parties. Vying for a space in the experience economy and upholding its infamous name for patrons, the Saint At Large has battled for its existence over the past few years.
Operated by CEO Stephen Pevner since 1994, the Saint At Large carries on the name of a prominent queer club in East Village that operated from 1979–1988. Housed in a former planetarium and fit with the strongest star machine at that time in order to compete with other clubs, the Saint, originally founded by Pevner’s cousin, Bruce Mailman, was a formative venue in New York queer nightlife.
“Hitting at the same time as the AIDS epidemic head on, it turned a sort of biblical corner in its story,” Pevner said. “It changed the course of gay life simply because most of gay life at the time was very underground, very derelict, and he elevated the experience so that gay clubs and gay experience became something rarefied.”
After its closure due to exorbitant Manhattan rent prices, the club became “at large” and morphed into what it is today. Instead of having a physical space, the Saint threw enormous traveling parties, which are now understood to be the first of what are known as the gay circuit parties that happen in cities around the world, according to Pevner.
“Instead of seeing the Saint’s closure as a byproduct of the AIDS crisis and having died, it has stayed alive and formed this sort of team that has stayed together,” Pevner said.
Where Miami had the White Party and Montreal had the Black and Blue Party, New York became known for the Saint At Large’s yearly Black Party in the spring. An elaborate and thematic 16-hour event, it has held a household name in gay nightlife for decades.
Osach, a performer at Homecoming 2019 and creative producer for the Saint, has been actively involved with the company for 11 years ever since his formative first time attending the Black Party.
“We look to make a remarkably immersive experience and gently push people outside of their comfort zones,” Osach said. “It’s been the privilege of a lifetime to produce for the Saint, because it’s subculture at its best.”
Wearing nothing but a black leather harness and blue jockstrap, Homecoming patron Tommy Phillman has attended all events thrown by the Saint At Large for over 15 years. For many in gay culture, events like Homecoming and the Black Party are seen as essential.
“Now that I have a lot of friends who are adults with kids, they want that one big event to plan around and go out to on a weekend,” Phillman said. “So, yeah, we’re all going to dress up with jockstraps to theme!”
Though a staple in New York queer nightlife, the Black Party earlier this year was almost the Saint At Large’s last. Whereas the party was held at Roseland Ballroom, a now defunct venue, for over 15 years, the company has since struggled to find a place suitable for the Black Party.
With a community that Pevner describes as very much valuing safe spaces to party, the Black Party familiar crowd was hesitant when the event moved to different venues, usually in Brooklyn, from year to year. However, the Saint At Large found success and positive feedback with the last Black Party being held at a convention center in Queens.
At Homecoming, patrons partied on in the spirit of the Saint, celebrating gay culture. According to couple Sean Davis and Patrick Carter, queer culture is thriving in New York at the moment. Since the introduction of PrEP, the HIV prevention medicine, and gay marriage legalization, they have felt a more tangible gay nightlife presence.
“Gay nightlife is having a moment, a renaissance,” Davis said.
“Yeah, true, but marriage equality is just one thing, one section of gay rights,” Carter said. “We’re happy but sometimes it overshadows everything else.”
Robert Zash, the archivist in the nonprofit sector of the company, the Saint Foundation, is in charge of collecting and digitizing old physical records of gay nightlife in the city. He spoke of the enormous undertaking it is for Pevner to uphold the spirit of the Saint.
“Like a wedding on a beach, there are so many things out of your control,” said Zash. “It takes a real talent like this guy to put it all together.”
Though throwing events in the current nightlife economy is a challenge from a producer’s standpoint, Pevner believes that the Saint At Large and Black Party will persist as long as he and the company have the fuel to make each year outperform the last.
“I really believe that people value these ephemeral, priceless experiences,” Pevner said. “People don’t want to be processed through a turnstile.”
