A bar, a laneway and 25 years of city life at Hells Kitchen

When Melbourne pub rockers-turned-stadium band Amyl and the Sniffers had their show cancelled and famously donated their $35,000 fee to the patrons of seven local music venues, Hells Kitchen was one of them.

A bunch of people who headed to the Federation Square gig had come in beforehand, the bar’s owner, Russell Tarbett, told CBD News.

They were gone for half an hour then they came back again, he says. Then Amy [Taylor] rang and put five grand on the bar, and it went nuts.

The resulting frenzy was both “horrendous” and “a great night,” Russell recalls.

“We had the bagpipes in there and everything. It was one for the ages, that one. It was a beauty!”

Tucked away above eatery Jungle Juice in Centre Place – a dog-legged continuation of Degraves St – the 55-seat bar may not host a huge amount of live music these days, but it has strong links in the city’s cultural scene.

In its “wild west” days – around 2003-04 – when it “hit its straps” thanks to the three floors of arts studios upstairs, Hells Kitchen was a place of experimental music and “mess” and gigs so loud they rattled the drinks and triggered complaints.

“It was just sort of exploding, and the place was packed. It was pretty amazing when you think about it now,” Russell says, recalling the sight of a man dragging a trolley laden with a speaker the size of a fridge up the steep front stairs.

Back then the police seemed to have more leeway to respond to issues, the 62-year-old says.

Russell had himself been a city cop, who left after 13 years on the force to try his hand at hospitality.

“They were almost apologetic – ‘sorry, mate, if you wouldn’t mind just turning it down from 100 to 95’ – it was that kind of vibe,” he says.

When Russell bought Hells Kitchen in 2001, it was a cafeteria-style business decked out in white “with lots of mirrors” that served lunch five days a week.

“The first thing we did was open nights,” he says.

“Back then there were people living in the city but not like they are now.

“Oh my God, some nights I would walk out of there with like 50 bucks in my pocket.”

He credits former Lord Mayor John So with opening up the CBD’s hospitality landscape.

“He made it a lot easier for cafes and bars to get liquor licences and extend their hours.”

Hells Kitchen “went crazy for a few years”.

“Then of course, like everything, it changed. They realised there were too many liquor licences in the city and put a moratorium on it, and all that sort of stuff.”

Around 2006 “the arts kids” from upstairs had also been kicked out but by then Russell had formed friendships with a lot of them, which have endured and helped foster relationships with a new generation of arty types.

The bar has a close association with the Victorian College of the Arts, Russell says, and tries to “encourage a lovely little community relationship with the students”.

The cosy two-room venue is a good place to build rapport.

Lit warmly by lamps and Art Nouveau-style chandeliers, the space features distinctive hand designed wallpaper and suitably mind-bending artworks.

It has a seat nicknamed “the tinderbox” which couples on dates seem to gravitate to, Russell says.

But its wall of windows overlooking the laneway offers “the prized spots”.

In summer they are opened to let the breeze in but it’s in cooler weather when it rains that the view is at its best, the owner thinks.

“Everyone always says, ‘it reminds me of Blade Runner in here when it’s raining’,” he says.

The venue keeps it real with its drinks, serving tap beer from local, independent breweries, wines from smaller vineyards, a changing array of spirits and “classic cocktails done well”.

“I love it,” Russell says of his 25-year-old business, “I love what I’ve got.”

And the thing he loves most is the clientele.

They can be aged from 18 to 80 but “tend to be people that want to have a chat and are interesting, and have something to say,” he says.

Among them recently was a young bloke whose father had recommended the bar.

“He had the biggest, goofiest smile on his face, and he told me, ‘my dad was right – he told me this was a cool place’,” Russell says.

“We’re generational! That’s fantastic. That’s what I love, mate.” •