Courtesy of scifilounge.webs.com
My sister cried when the tore down the old Arena (nee the Checkerdome) on Oakland Avenue, where the Blues played. She was there back in 1999 with the other hockey freaks, pressed against the chain link fence as the Spirtas Wrecking Co. imploded the massive shell and all those memories seemed to implode with it.
She was in tears, she told me later, along with most everyone else gathered there that day to witness the euthanasia of an edifice. It was surely a bonding moment. If you grew up seeking Federko or Hull or MacInnis or any of our guys crashing the boards there, it meant something, and to many, ass-deep in this particular sports cult, the physical elimination of the place where you screamed your lungs out (for a team that had a habit of breaking your heart annually, as well) was something that you had to witness even as it made you weep.
Not to be morbid, but these sorts of “bittersweet finaleˊ” memories have a way of multiplying as we grow older, and in St. Louis, mocked as we are for being a culture vacuum in the flyover country, when the shuttered spot is a venue for the arts, it may smart that much more.
Have the Crestwood Court ArtSpace businesses been around long enough for tears? It’s only been a few years since the nearly empty shopping mall converted one disused wing of storefronts into a collection of low-budget enclaves for pottery and art-photo stores, dance studios, theatre spaces, and so on, but I’m sure now that all but 17 of the groups have been asked to leave, some weeping is appropriate. The people in the trenches at places like Marble Stage Theatre and Avalon Theatre can’t be happy that they have to find a new home, even if they knew from the outset that their digs were just temporary.
There’s a lot of sentiment attached to the Sci-Fi Lounge, a hard-to-define playground/model-drawing club/concert space that will soon be vacating its big corner space in the mall-in-limbo.
Owner Coyote Bynum will have been there for roughly a year and a half when he packs up his massive collection of action figures and related geekery (I write that in geek-affinity, so relax, ‘kay?) and lopes out into the sunset.
It’s a lope that this Coyote has loped before, incidentally. From 2005 to 2010, he operated the Sci-Fi Lounge near the corner of Des Peres and Kingsbury avenues. It was a gloriously cluttered space, chockablock with his dioramas depicting Star Wars action figures battling on the flight deck of the Death Star, original art, a few pinball and video-game machines, goofy signage, a candy counter, et cetera. Next door to artist Bill Christman’s infamous Joe’s Café, the Sci-Fi Lounge shared a corner that offered a bizarre-but-warm vibe, not coincidentally, courtesy of two guys with close ties to the City Museum.
Christman is the zany sculptor responsible for the funhouse, “nougat mine,” and corn-dog-themed art within Beatnik Bob’s Museum of Mirth, Mystery, and Mayhem at the City Museum. Coyote, for many years, was the “Head Beatnik,” as he puts it, keeping bar, selling candy, and trying to prevent hyperactive kids from destroying the art at the same spot.
Coyote’s Kingsbury Avenue HQ was not an easy space to keep afloat financially, he said, so he jumped when Crestwood Court flung open its doors to low-budget artsy concerns, offering—in collaboration with the Regional Arts Commission—dirt-cheap monthly rental rates.
The Sci Fi Lounge got bigger. It got carpeting, which is important for the close-to-the-ground set (i.e., kids). It expanded successful sub-clubs like its informal Draw Club, at which area comic-book lovers drew live models in costume. Similarly, the Comic Creators Coffee Club, run by Caitlyn Moriarity, took root, offering a perfect gathering place for comics writers and artists to meet once a month to discuss their projects and collaborate, said Coyote. There were birthday parties booked by families, and live acts playing music on a small stage.
But more informally, the Sci-Fi Lounge has been a place where kids play with toys, adults play with toys, and kids meet other kids and play together in an all-ages spot that Coyote’s sensibilities for art, lighting, and collectible toys made really cool.
“Kids came in and played with toys,” said Coyote. “Dads got off on vintage toys they used to play with, like showing their kids how to play pinball, or playing old-school Nintendo while their younger kids played PS2 or GameCube; it crossed generations.”
“I’ve got Legos, trains, action figures, blasters, dinosaurs…” he said. Potent stuff for dudes of all ages.
From the superhero mannequin near the front counter to the pit of Hot Wheels to the alcove of pirate ships to Coyote’s own worshipful “Conan the Barbarian” fan art, this Lounge was a feast for the eyes that invited you to touch, too.
The appeal of the Sci-Fi Lounge was “so simple,” he said. “Now that arcades have died because of home entertainment and portable systems, the only thing to go out to do is eat and watch a movie, and when you watch a movie you’re not interacting with the people around you. That’s what I’ll miss the most—the people. I have so many friendships that have come out of that place. So many times people have come in and their kids have played with my kids.”
“And if you wanted to bring your whole family, it wouldn’t cost you your whole paycheck,” he added. “It was just $2 a person, and free for kids 3 and under. That’s cheaper than it is to park on the lot at the City Museum.”
Now that ArtSpace is being reduced to a much smaller group of businesses, Coyote will pack up his toys and move along shortly. He said he will store them “in a secret location—a Batcave, so to speak.”
“I may try to recreate a mini Sci-Fi Lounge as my personal art studio, but that won’t be open to the public,” he added.
As to his vocation and avocations, “I intend to spend more time as a gardener and an illustrator,” he said, “hopefully as a freelance illustrator. I’ve made a lot of good connections with a lot of other writers and artists who’ve come through the Draw Club, so I feel I can contribute to toy design, book and comic illustration, or game design.”
Meanwhile, back in Crestwood, an act of magnanimous financial generosity that permitted something like 70 low-budget arts concerns to open storefronts for the public has just about reached its expiration date.
And so the Joker laughs at a captured Batman, trussed-up and gagged. Thulsa Doom kills everyone in Conan’s small village. The Sci Fi Lounge, where kids of all ages played with toys and drew superheroes and made friends, becomes an empty storefront in another vacant shopping mall in the 21st century.
And a cold January breeze blows through St. Louis, whistling like wind through the missing teeth of a skull.
February 4 is the final day of operation for the Sci-Fi Lounge. A gala final concert on January 27 features Men Working in Trees, Central City Heroes, The Sam Project, Sleepy & the Bedtimes, and CJ Marie. Visit www.scifilounge.webs.com or call 314-494-0853 for more info.
