SPEAKEASIES, FIVE POINTS, AND BEYOND HARLEM RENAISSANCE

December 5, 2008, 1:53 pm Evoking the Era of the Harlem Speakeasy By Jennifer 8. Lee A mysterious new restaurant in Harlem evokes the glamour of the Prohibition era, which ended 75 years ago today. (Photo: Jennifer 8. Lee/The New York Times)     Seventy-five years ago today, the 21st Amendment to the Constitution was ratified, ending Prohibition. Some restaurants and tourism agencies have organized events to observe that occasion. Less noticed, in an anonymous storefront on Frederick Douglass Boulevard, is a modern tribute to the Harlem Renaissance, an era when Prohibition spurred nightlife that was fueled by jazz and white patronage from downtown.   Taverns, lounges, speakeasies and supper clubs lined the streets back then. Among those establishments that flourished during that era: Jerry’s Log Cabin, which hosted Billie Holiday; the Savoy Ballroom, where Louis Armstrong trumpeted; and the famous Cat’s Corner, where the best dancers converged. But this storefront, a restaurant between 112th and 113th Streets, has no sign, and its windows are shrouded with heavy purple curtains.   It is meant to evoke the hidden speakeasies of the Harlem Renaissance.   But its name, 67 Orange Street, is a subtle allusion to an even earlier era, one that shaped America culture. It is the final address of Almack’s Dance Hall, a 19th-century Five Points bar that was one of the most prominent black-owned businesses of pre-Civil War New York. The owner, Pete Williams, was an actor and a dramatist who carved out a large profile for himself in at a time when slavery was still embedded in the social and economic landscape. Almack’s drew international attention for its “red hot” music, its dancing and the wide range of classes and complexions among its customers. Though situated in the multiethnic slum of Five Points, the club attracted governors, legistators and other men of prominence, according to The New York Times. And in 1842, Charles Dickens immortalized it with an extensive account in in his book “American Notes.” Mr. Dickens marveled at the “mulatto” women, the dancing and the energy. By 1852, it was occasionally called Dickens’s Place.   Karl Franz Williams, 33, the owner of 67 Orange, first heard about Almack’s from a friend who told him it was one of the first black-owned bars in New York. Mr. Williams, who had done brand management at Procter & Gamble and PepsiCo, already owned the Society coffeehouse and was thinking of opening another business in Harlem. As he did more historical research into Almack’s, he grew impressed by the club’s cultural footprint. He added, “Then I realized that Pete had the same last name as me, and I was like, ‘Wow, this is meant to be.’ ”   A testament to the 19th-century Pete Williams’s prominence: Back in the 1840s, city directories rarely included blacks at all, and those who were included tended to be more elite figures like church pastors — or barbers, shoemakers or restaurateurs, who provided useful services for white businessmen. But a directory listing from 1830 describes Mr. Williams as the “colored” owner of a “boardinghouse” at 41 Orange Street. And over the next 16 years, he surfaced four more times: at 36.5 Orange Street in 1836 and 1837, and then at 67 Orange Street in 1843 and 1846.   “I saw the parallel between Five Points, written off as a slum, and Harlem,” said Mr. Williams, who moved to the United States from St. Vincent when he was 6 years old. Five Points was the first free black settlement in New York City, but the influx of Irish immigrants soon made it a mixed-race area. Likewise, as Harlem has gentrified it has become increasingly diverse (for better or worse). The gentrification has brought a demand for more upscale places to eat, like 67 Orange and Society Coffee.   The swirl of multicultural music and dance at Almack’s and other clubs in Five Points had a profound influence in the direction of American arts. The dance halls of Five Points were considered the predecessors to Harlem’s famous “black and tan cabarets” of the 1920s. Dance competitions between native-born whites, Irish immigrants and blacks inspired a cross-fertilization of styles. Tap dancing was born in the interaction between the blacks’ shuffle and Irish jig.   Among those that performed at Almack’s was one of the most famous dancers of the era, Master Juba, a black man who is believed to be the performer described by Mr. Dickens in his visit: Single shuffle, double shuffle, cut and cross-cut; snapping his fingers, rolling his eyes, turning in his knees, presenting the backs of his legs in front, spinning about on his toes and heels like nothing but the man’s fingers on the tambourine; dancing with two left legs, two right legs, two wooden legs, two wire legs, two spring legs — all sorts of legs and no legs — what is this to him? And in what walk of life, or dance of life, does man ever get such stimulating applause as thunders about him, when, having danced his partner off her feet, and himself too, he finishes by leaping gloriously on the bar-counter, and calling for something to drink, with the chuckle of a million of counterfeit Jim Crows, in one inimitable sound. Of course, 67 Orange is more restaurant than dance hall. It is a mix of old and contemporary. The decor features stone interiors, exposed rustic wood walls, and Edison filament light bulbs.   The cocktail menu is inspired by the the 19th and early 20th centuries. But the menu features a raw bar with shrimp, lobster and oyster. The dishes range from mutton pies to deviled eggs to buffalo sliders.   SOURCE:  The New York Times:  http://www.nytimes.com