"Take the down staircase...
to the Down County Social Club"
Text published in Berkshire Eagle (10/23/08)
Photos by Jeremy D. Goodwin
By Jeremy D. Goodwin
SHEFFIELD—Part clubhouse, part lounge, part artistic salon, the Down County Social Club is sometimes lovingly referred to as "the Berkshires' only speakeasy." It lacks the illicit nature of that sort of institution, of course—as well as the secrecy, exclusivity, and emphasis on, say, bathtub gin.
But there's something about descending a few steps into this decidedly funky nightspot—essentially the basement of the Stagecoach Tavern in Sheffield—that feels like being transported into a different kind of public space, one that's somehow secret and special, the sort you vaguely felt you needed but whose properties you hadn't quite articulated.
The ceiling is low, the lighting is dim, and as you walk past the eerie paintings (a series called "The Undead of New England" by local artist Donald Gibbs) toward the small bar, you may see folks playing chess or backgammon at one of the small round tables, or perhaps in the mysterious little alcove that can just barely fit three people. The crowd is predominantly younger, though there's definitely a wide mix of demographic groups represented.
There might be an acoustic combo of some sort playing a few feet away, just beyond the couch where a few patrons have set up with what appear to be pots of tea. Everyone seems to be drinking tea, in fact (though they're not). Some of them may be eating something, but you can't quite tell at first glance what it is. You may hear evidence of the billiards room at the end of a narrow passageway next to the bar.
By now a young woman, perhaps wearing an outrageous wig and an apron, has probably greeted you enthusiastically. A hug may or may not be involved.
SHEFFIELD—Part clubhouse, part lounge, part artistic salon, the Down County Social Club is sometimes lovingly referred to as "the Berkshires' only speakeasy." It lacks the illicit nature of that sort of institution, of course—as well as the secrecy, exclusivity, and emphasis on, say, bathtub gin.
But there's something about descending a few steps into this decidedly funky nightspot—essentially the basement of the Stagecoach Tavern in Sheffield—that feels like being transported into a different kind of public space, one that's somehow secret and special, the sort you vaguely felt you needed but whose properties you hadn't quite articulated.
The ceiling is low, the lighting is dim, and as you walk past the eerie paintings (a series called "The Undead of New England" by local artist Donald Gibbs) toward the small bar, you may see folks playing chess or backgammon at one of the small round tables, or perhaps in the mysterious little alcove that can just barely fit three people. The crowd is predominantly younger, though there's definitely a wide mix of demographic groups represented.
There might be an acoustic combo of some sort playing a few feet away, just beyond the couch where a few patrons have set up with what appear to be pots of tea. Everyone seems to be drinking tea, in fact (though they're not). Some of them may be eating something, but you can't quite tell at first glance what it is. You may hear evidence of the billiards room at the end of a narrow passageway next to the bar.
By now a young woman, perhaps wearing an outrageous wig and an apron, has probably greeted you enthusiastically. A hug may or may not be involved.
Fisch
Technically speaking, the Down County Social Club (or DCSC for short) is a tapas bar with live entertainment. But mainly it's a space for creative, often arts-minded folks to come together and, well, be social. Beer and wine (the latter served by the carafe in the aforementioned tea pots) are available, as well as a constantly evolving menu of very creatively constructed tapas.
"I think it's really important to create social situations which are healthy and where people feel seen and important and loved, where people feel validated," says Housatonic resident Heather Fisch, hostess and all-around impresario of the place. "People need that and they don't have it anywhere else. Well they might, but it's not normal."
Technically, the Down County Social Club exists as an extension of the Stagcoach Tavern upstairs, but is managed and curated by Fisch in collaboration with Billy Fortini, an early patron who stepped up to take a leadership role when Fisch saw she needed more help at the helm of this growing scene. It's open only on Thursday nights, from 8pm to about midnight. The venture began last spring, and looks to be going strong.
Fisch and Fortini are each under 25-years old, and delight in whimsical touches that further enhance the character of the place (as if serving wine in a porcelain tea pot shaped like a giant strawberry was not enough). On one recent evening Fortini, going for the “old saloon keeper” look, was duded up in a beautiful vest, impeccably tied necktie, and a painted-on pencil thin moustache; Fisch went through a period where she was wearing a different wig each week.
The ambiance is more like a polite house party than a typical bar; it's the sort of place where, when you see someone you don't know, you feel like you should introduce yourself. And you do.
“Whenever new people come in, I like to sit them down and have a moment with them. I learn their names, and if they don’t know anyone there I’ll introduce them to the people there. That's an integral part of it being a social club,” Fisch explains. “It's not like when you go to a normal bar and you don’t know anyone, and you sit in the corner all isolated and you get your bill and you leave and then you wonder why you even went out.”
"I think it's really important to create social situations which are healthy and where people feel seen and important and loved, where people feel validated," says Housatonic resident Heather Fisch, hostess and all-around impresario of the place. "People need that and they don't have it anywhere else. Well they might, but it's not normal."
Technically, the Down County Social Club exists as an extension of the Stagcoach Tavern upstairs, but is managed and curated by Fisch in collaboration with Billy Fortini, an early patron who stepped up to take a leadership role when Fisch saw she needed more help at the helm of this growing scene. It's open only on Thursday nights, from 8pm to about midnight. The venture began last spring, and looks to be going strong.
Fisch and Fortini are each under 25-years old, and delight in whimsical touches that further enhance the character of the place (as if serving wine in a porcelain tea pot shaped like a giant strawberry was not enough). On one recent evening Fortini, going for the “old saloon keeper” look, was duded up in a beautiful vest, impeccably tied necktie, and a painted-on pencil thin moustache; Fisch went through a period where she was wearing a different wig each week.
The ambiance is more like a polite house party than a typical bar; it's the sort of place where, when you see someone you don't know, you feel like you should introduce yourself. And you do.
“Whenever new people come in, I like to sit them down and have a moment with them. I learn their names, and if they don’t know anyone there I’ll introduce them to the people there. That's an integral part of it being a social club,” Fisch explains. “It's not like when you go to a normal bar and you don’t know anyone, and you sit in the corner all isolated and you get your bill and you leave and then you wonder why you even went out.”
Fortini, who holds down the fort behind the bar every week, says this is a great place to put names to faces and make connections with people you may see around town a lot but never actually sit down and meet.
“We're all sort of bouncing around in the same little sphere that we live in, but we don't always cross paths,” he says. “Sometimes you're seeing someone here who you see around all the time but you've never actually talked to. That's happened a lot.”
Fisch and Fortini cook up a creative selection of tapas every week (usually served in two or three rounds) made from organic ingredients. Adding food to a drink order (only an additional dollar with a beer or two dollars with wine) basically puts the patron in the hosts’ hands as they serve the evening’s selections in sequence. (“It’s about whether or not you’re feeling adventurous. It’s not ‘What’ll you have?’ it’s ‘Do you or don’t you?’” Fisch says with a wicked laugh.) Past favorites include some you-had-to-be-there items like chocolate bread with caramelized onions; squash, coconut and apple stew; and a spiced, caraway seed waffle topped with mango chutney.
There’s usually some sort of live entertainment, though the planned program frequently evolves into a loose jam session, often including house guitarist Evan Randall. If you’re lucky, you may catch Fisch don her accordion and belt out the DCSC theme song, or the song about the honest-to-goodness speakeasy she once hosted, dubbed the Hush & Grumble. In addition to the paintings of Gibbs, works by multimedia artist William McDougal and photographer Jamie Goldenberg are displayed. On one evening someone may burst loose with some performance poetry. Last week there was some sort of ritualistic haircut ceremony that is probably best left un-described.
So eventually the DCSC adds up to more than its mix-and-match table settings, its loose performance schedule, its homegrown food, art and attitude. It all combines into something different, perhaps the sort of organically grown nightspot the Berkshires deserves. It’s not a speakeasy. It’s a social club.
“If you build it right, people come. It doesn't matter who's performing. It doesn't matter how much advertising you put in,” says Rothstein, who ran the legendary Music Inn in Stockbridge throughout the 1970’s. “You build an ambiance, and before you know it people are just coming in.”
They may not find any bathtub gin upon arrival. But the spiced waffles with mango chutney will have to do.
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“We're all sort of bouncing around in the same little sphere that we live in, but we don't always cross paths,” he says. “Sometimes you're seeing someone here who you see around all the time but you've never actually talked to. That's happened a lot.”
Fisch and Fortini cook up a creative selection of tapas every week (usually served in two or three rounds) made from organic ingredients. Adding food to a drink order (only an additional dollar with a beer or two dollars with wine) basically puts the patron in the hosts’ hands as they serve the evening’s selections in sequence. (“It’s about whether or not you’re feeling adventurous. It’s not ‘What’ll you have?’ it’s ‘Do you or don’t you?’” Fisch says with a wicked laugh.) Past favorites include some you-had-to-be-there items like chocolate bread with caramelized onions; squash, coconut and apple stew; and a spiced, caraway seed waffle topped with mango chutney.
There’s usually some sort of live entertainment, though the planned program frequently evolves into a loose jam session, often including house guitarist Evan Randall. If you’re lucky, you may catch Fisch don her accordion and belt out the DCSC theme song, or the song about the honest-to-goodness speakeasy she once hosted, dubbed the Hush & Grumble. In addition to the paintings of Gibbs, works by multimedia artist William McDougal and photographer Jamie Goldenberg are displayed. On one evening someone may burst loose with some performance poetry. Last week there was some sort of ritualistic haircut ceremony that is probably best left un-described.
So eventually the DCSC adds up to more than its mix-and-match table settings, its loose performance schedule, its homegrown food, art and attitude. It all combines into something different, perhaps the sort of organically grown nightspot the Berkshires deserves. It’s not a speakeasy. It’s a social club.
“If you build it right, people come. It doesn't matter who's performing. It doesn't matter how much advertising you put in,” says Rothstein, who ran the legendary Music Inn in Stockbridge throughout the 1970’s. “You build an ambiance, and before you know it people are just coming in.”
They may not find any bathtub gin upon arrival. But the spiced waffles with mango chutney will have to do.
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