BY TINA BENITEZ-EVES | Mick Rock’s haunting black-and-white “Transformer”-era shot of Lou Reed. A young, pre-Pistols Sid Vicious working at Vivienne Westwood and Malcolm McLaren’s London SEX shop. With walls plastered with snapshots of punk’s past, Manitoba’s is like a rock ’n’ roll museum, offering a glimpse back in time for those who were there, those who dreamed of being there and anyone new to it all.
Manitoba’s is among the last of its kind in the East Village, but all good things must come to an end. That’s Richard “Handsome Dick” Manitoba’s mantra when it comes to the future of his punk rock dive bar at 99 Avenue B, and he’s sticking to it.
Opened in 1999 by Manitoba, and co-owned and managed by his wife, Zoe Hansen, the rocking watering hole may or may not close its doors within the next year. Its future depends on how much the rent goes up, the punk icon told The Villager.
“We’ll revisit the lease when it gets closer to ending time,” said Manitoba, who does not know exactly when his current lease ends, but is afraid that the rent will rise significantly. “I don’t want to sign another lease now and pay more rent a year in advance. If it’s a lot more, I’m out — because I can’t afford a lot more. I’m not going to work for nothing.”
Earlier this year, Manitoba’s nearly shut its doors following a settlement of $25,000, after a man named Luigi Girotto sued Manitoba’s and 27 other businesses, including the bar’s former neighbor, Casimir — since reopened as Pardon My French — for failing to provide wheelchair accessibility under the Americans with Disabilities Act.
After a successful Indiegogo campaign, Manitoba raised more than $32,000. Nearly 700 donors pledged funds in return for an offering of memorabilia from Manitoba’s band, The Dictators, and other collectibles from Manitoba’s personal stash of T-shirts, bobblehead dolls in his likeness, Godlis photos and even autographed guitars donated by Joan Jett and Blondie.
Although Manitoba’s survived the lawsuit, the neighborhood’s punk past has nearly been wiped away. Handsome Dick is a survivor, but whether Manitoba’s will ultimately survive, he can’t yet stay.
The camaraderie — fans who come to recapture a taste of the old days — is what makes it worthwhile for Manitoba.
“I don’t love the bar business,” he said. “I love having that bar. I love having that history. I love having that clubhouse.”
While he enjoys keeping a bit of that old punk culture alive in the East Village, the Bronx native has seen the neighborhood change over the years from its grittier roots to something more polished, with everything being driven by ever-higher rents.
Manitoba said he sees through his son’s eyes and understands how today’s younger generation might miss out on special places, after they are gone. His son wonders what it was like for Manitoba to hang out at the Factory with Andy Warhol or check out the Peppermint Lounge in 1962 when he was just eight.
“At 11 life is exciting, and that’s the way it’s supposed to be,” said Manitoba, who first fell in love with the idea of having a bar during a trip to Manhattan with his father when he was 10, and they had a chance meeting with boxer Jack Dempsey at his bar and restaurant in Midtown.
“What are we supposed to do, miss what we lost?” he asked. “It’s a type of loss. Life is a death. Life is about a bunch of deaths.”
It gets to a point, said Manitoba, when, “You are just another old person talking about how great the old days were.”
It’s still a labor of love for Manitoba, but only time will tell if the little punk bar that serves Mother’s Milk, leaves its $5 photo booth open at all hours and its jukebox ready to play anything — even some pre-punk oldies — will keep the history alive.
“When people come to New York City, there’s no more CBGBs,” he said. “There’s no more…fill in the blanks. So I’m one of those stop-offs now where people have a drink and take a picture. That means a lot to me.”
Manitoba knows that another piece of punk in the East Village would die if Manitoba’s closes, because, he said, it’s a different kind of bar from the rest.
“Where are you gonna go for Manitoba’s?” he said. “Where is there a place that has that little niche? When you want White Castle you can’t go to Burger King.”
Yet, he added, “When it’s gone, it’s gone. Then something else will rise up.”
