Beijing's bar scene is booming like everything else in the capital, however
Erik Nilsson discovers the lifespan of bar is short lived
The cup of nightlife options overflows for the Beijing boozer, because every
week a new bar opens. When one flashy bar opens its doors, inevitably another
one closes. Five years ago That's Beijing magazine launched its first edition
and listed 200 bars. Today only 11 of these bars are still operating.
According to David Eimer, co-author of the latest Lonely Planet Beijing City
Guide, most of the bars listed in the 2007 edition are completely different from
the previous edition. "The previously listed bars simply no longer exist."
The number of bars in Beijing is impossible to measure. Currently, there are
278 bars registered with the Beijing Administration of Industry and Commerce,
however, the real number is anybody's guess. There are more than 200 bars in the
Sanlitun area alone.
The fierce rivalry for an increasing yet finite number of patrons makes many
owners wonder if their glasses like their bars are half empty, rather than full.
"There's a lot of churning," said Frank Siegel, who opened the first non-hotel
bar in Beijing, Frank's Place, 16 years ago.
Part of this, he says, is that the bar industry is notorious for having a
high turnover rate. The other part of the equation, he says, is the changing
face of the city.
"They're wiping out entire sections of the city. What they're putting in
their place is going high-end," Siegel said.
From the vantage point of Beijing barstool, the city looks more and more like
Shanghai every month.
Canadian Jim Boyce, an NGO communications director, writes the Beijing Boyce
nightlife newsletter for 550 subscribers. He says the reach for sophistication
is raising the bar in the city's nightlife scene. "Unfortunately, this is not an
easy market to serve, if only for the simple reason that Beijing is not
Shanghai," he said.
Michael Wester, general manager of True Run Media, parent company of That's
Beijing magazine, calls the phenomenon a "closing of the gap" between the two
cities.
"In 2002, when I'd go to Shanghai, I'd be shocked people would pay 50 kuai
for a beer. But today, they're selling for that price here in Beijing," said
Wester, who pointed out that this new clientele is not limited to the "moneyed
class", but rather to, "ordinary people".
Jacki Li, owner of Magic Rock bar in Haidian District, believes fewer people
go to bars, and those who do are demanding discounts.
"Some bars agreed to give discounts, so customers go to the next bar asking
for the same discount. If one bar on a street reduces their prices, it ruins it
for the other bars on that street," he said.
Despite a dip in clientele, Magic Rock is still going strong after five years
a claim few can make in Beijing's cut-throat bar scene.
As more Beijing venues become more upmarket, Siegel says rents will rise,
making it difficult for independent operators.
"So you'll probably see a lot more dispersion of bars throughout the city,"
he said. "It's fragmenting. You're going to have nodes rather than one central
area, and these nodes might specialize in one type of venue."
Jacki Li recalls a 2002 local government notice, which
said the street on which his bar was located would be
reconstructed.
He did not know when the bulldozers would come, however he knew investing
more money in the bar would be a waste.
The last bar he worked at, Jinse Nian Dai, was demolished in 2002.
"How do you know if the place is going to be torn down tomorrow? You have to
hedge your bets," Wester said.
He said bars even closed down between the time his magazine went to print and
was distributed.
Frank Segal points out the window of his newest venture, the Sequoia Caf,
toward a recently demolished school on Guanghua Lu.
"That's what's happening in the city," he said.
On the corner of the demolition site is the gutted out shell of what two
months ago was New World Bar.
"They've been around forever as long as we have," Siegel said. "They were
here for 10 years, and now, they're gone."
(China Daily 01/06/2007 page5)