We walk this path but once. Any kindness we can show or good that we can do, let us do it now.
Friday, September 07, 2012
People Packed to the rafters
Posted on 26 February 2011.
Packed to the rafters
Shanghai Lils’ Russel Green lives life to the fullest
Russel Green has had a lot of press in his time as the owner and face of iconic bar Shanghai Lils – which last year moved from Auckland’s heritage Birdcage building to Parnell.
Shanghai Lils has been labelled “instantly memorable and effortlessly cool” because of its hand-carved dragons, antique Asian furniture and vintage art prints that are wall-to-wall in the bar. The bar been used for photo shoots because of its rich colours and vast amount of ornaments. It’s even been said that Shanghai Lils is “crammed to the gills” with antiques. After spending an afternoon at Russel’s Remuera home, the words of these writers came back to amuse me – if they think Russel’s place of business is crammed to the gills, they certainly haven’t seen his home!
The first thing you need to know about Russel is that his life is very, very full.
His schedule is packed with things he has to do at work, at home, with accountants and with friends. This schedule is so packed, in fact, that he had to take a phone call from professional gossip Bridget Saunders during our interview!
Russel’s time at work is also taken up – he cleans the place and does the books before Shanghai Lils even opens, then for the rest of the evening he can be seen swanning in and out of the kitchen, chatting to people at the bar, shaking a pair of maracas along to the live band, or dancing flamenco-style with bar patrons.
His mind is also packed full of information, mostly information about people. In our short interview I learned about Freda Stark, musician Mike Chunn’s family, movie stars, models, jet-setting bridge players and former royalty; I even found out a thing or two about express staff!
Complementary to this life of fullness is Russel’s home, which he shares with jazz pianist Billy Farnell in the posh suburb of Remuera. From the road it’s difficult to picture what’s inside, but once you wind your way down an overgrown path to the house, you enter the lounge – inside is one of the biggest and most amazing collection of antiques you may ever come across. And it’s full to the brim.
“Billy’s been collecting since long before he moved in here,” says Russel, gesturing towards one of Billy’s first buys, a ceramic crocodile mounted on the wall. “He’s been here since 1962 and I’ve been here since 1982. The place has changed dramatically over this time – it’s certainly filled up.”
I wandered Russel and Billy’s lounge for some time, as wide-eyed as a kid in a candy store, taking photos of anything that caught my eye (and a LOT caught my eye). Taxidermied fox heads, smiling Buddhas, masquerade masks, shoes, busts, teapots, photo frames, furniture and lighting – it would take days to truly appreciate the collection, but I do have a few favourites; namely, the dolls!
“There are hundreds of dolls in here,” says Russel. “Everything from a unique pair of Me and My Girl dolls from 1939 to a gruff-looking kid from the Hitler Youth Movement. We picked the little Hitler fellow up in Wellington and brought him home with us – he’s just great.”
Personally I was a little afraid of the Aryan doll with the devilish blue eyes, but luckily there were about 50 other dolls I could look at within eyeshot, all from different eras.
“Neither of us have a particular style of antique that we collect,” says Russel. “You think that because Shanghai Lils is so themed that there’s a particular type of thing we like but in reality, what’s in the bar is just part of what I have in storage. When you see something antique you really like, you have to buy it because otherwise you’ll never see it again. You should see my storeroom – it’s twice the size of Shanghai Lils and absolutely packed. There’s everything in there – African, Chinese, art deco, Indian, Moroccan – there’s such a selection in storage, it’s quite hard to comprehend.”
It was at this point that my budding young vintage collector had to come out and ask, rather presumptuously, what does Russel plan to do with all these stored items? “No idea,” he laughs. “I might use the stuff, I might sell it – I really don’t know what to do. Perhaps I’ll have to start a new project and use the stuff there!”
Despite their packed-to-the-rafters home, Russel and Billy still visit auctions regularly. During my interview with Russel, Billy is perusing an auction catalogue, complete with crockery and art, as well as stuffed snakes and bears.
“We still love going to the auctions – sometimes you can go there and there will be a deceased estate for sale,” says Russel. “Going there in winter is a good time – for some reason you can get things like full silver dinner sets for $20 or thereabouts. Nobody in these families want this stuff – their children want freedom and minimalism. So we grab them!”
Russel admits that because of the amount of time he spends at the bar, time spent at home is limited. “We work so much that we’re out of the house a lot, especially during the evenings. You used to be able to see out the windows downstairs here, but it’s all overgrown now. Not that it matters – we’re quite nocturnal anyway so it doesn’t matter that we can’t see out.”
I ask Russel if his theory on home and living is “more is more”. “I guess that’s about right,” he replies. “I like rooms that are like journeys – you head into a room and see what you can see at first glance and then you delve deeper and find more. That’s kind of what we have here and at Shanghai Lils.
“Having this amount of stuff is a very big responsibility however – sometimes I wish we didn’t have so much stuff because it’s hard if you want to travel and do things. Stuff can be a burden – it’s beautiful and wonderful but it can be a burden. And cleaning it all is hard too, because I spend so much time at the bar cleaning on my day off that by the time I get home I do nothing. It sounds horrible but Billy does most of the housework here.”
Russel also says there is the odd person out there who doesn’t like the quirky nature of his home or business. “Some people don’t get it here – it’s the same as the bar. Some people come into our home or into Shanghai Lils and think we’re crazy, but not everyone’s supposed to get it.
“Personally I don’t get minimalism,” he laughs, before giving me some parting advice. “You can’t judge minimalism, because ultimately people have to make a choice about the way they live their lives.
“But I also say you can’t judge minimalism, because there’s nothing to judge!”
| Hannah JV
http://www.gayexpress.co.nz/2011/02/packed-to-the-rafters/
Shanghai Lil's back on the scene By Anna Hart 4:00 AM Friday Jun 4, 2010
Auckland's nightlife hasn't been the same without it. Shanghai Lil's has finally reopened in its third incarnation in Parnell
Many hearts were broken when Shanghai Lil's, housed in the iconic Birdcage in Freemans Bay, closed its doors to revellers last year. In a city where you'll find 10 leatherette-clad, R&B-playing cafe-bars for one quirky independent establishment, Lil's managed to be instantly memorable and effortlessly cool.
All hand-carved dragons, Chinese red lanterns and 1930s art prints, entering Shanghai Lil's was like walking on to a film set - all the elegance of In The Mood For Love paired with the battiness of Grey Gardens - but regulars will tell you the most important part of the furniture has always been the double act of delightfully eccentric owner Russel Green and his resident jazz pianist - and partner of 22 years, Billy Farnell.
Clad in Chinese silk and prone to sporadic outbursts of the can-can on the dance floor, they treated regulars, newbies and the occasional Hollywood star with the same degree of warmth and attention.
But all good things must come to an end - in this case it was thanks to a wrecking ball courtesy of the Victoria Park tunnel which means the Birdcage will be dismantled and moved to a new location.
For those who missed out on it, and for those who miss it, there is good news.
Shanghai Lil's has found a new home in a colonial-style underground bar in Parnell Village.
"As soon as I peered through the dust-covered window, I knew I'd found something special," says Green, sitting proudly on a plush sofa in the den-like new venue. "In fact, 'remembered' would be a better word than 'found', because I'd worked here back in 1994 when it was Valerio's. It's got a wonderful feel to it, and I love the fact that its underground, like an opium den.
"The courtyard, with its wrought-iron spiral staircase and views of the Sky Tower sealed the deal. Plus we've got a dining room out the back, so we're finally able to include a restaurant."
The shift from bar to restaurant is a new step for Shanghai Lil's, although Green has had stints as a chef in a long hospitality career. "I've always loved the concept of 1930s supper clubs, where people can dine, enjoy post-dinner cocktails and have a turn on the dance floor, all in the same venue."
The all-new Shanghai Lil's has been open just a few weeks and has already hosted several "successful first dates", a "wonderfully celebratory" funeral wake and a dance floor takeover by a visiting dance act.
"Shanghai Lil's is all about escapism. I want to provide an extraordinary setting where people feel free to let dramas unfold in their lives - whether it's kissing in a corner, dancing to the piano or meeting a fabulous new friend over a cocktail."
So what do regulars make of the new venue? "As soon as people walk in, they say, 'Oh, it still feels like Shanghai Lil's'. Some say they prefer the low-ceiling intimacy of this place to The Birdcage."
It's certainly got the same Aladdin's Cave feel to it: no nook or cranny is left devoid of an antique porcelain vase or elaborately-carved rosewood chest.
"It's been fabulous fun delving into our collection to find pieces that fit here," says Green. The couple's art collection is legendary. Between the two of them they have 90 years worth of obsessive collecting of oriental furniture and art, Art Deco pieces and "anything whimsical and different, really". "Shanghai Lil's is essentially an extension of our living room at home. We joke that we opened the bar because we needed somewhere else to put everything."
And what of the move from Ponsonby to Parnell? Is Green worried that the hipsters, musicians and visiting thespians who made Shanghai Lil's so colourful will be lost to other venues along the way?
"Oh no," he says. "You see, we've put a sign up outside."
It's this refreshingly low-key attitude that has made Shanghai Lil's a hit with visiting luminaries including Sir Ian McKellen, Scarlett Johansson and Josh Hartnett; people who wouldn't dare show their faces at Spy Bar.
In fact, the only reason Viva knows about the new opening is because we walked past the building; there were no press releases or vodka-sponsored launch parties here.
Though Green insists he isn't in thrall to fame - "Everybody works hard and needs fun, everybody pays the same for a drink, so no so-called VIP is going to skip the door queue" - he clearly relishes Shanghai Lil's status as an underground celebrity hangout.
"When Kate Bosworth and Geoffrey Rush (filming soon-to-be-released The Warrior's Way) came to the bar last year it was just delightful. Geoffrey got stuck into the red wine and after a couple of cocktails Kate agreed to have a dance with me. She was absolutely lovely - although so skinny I was terrified I'd break her in half - and we gave a great high-kicking floor-show."
"And Scarlett! She was lovely. Although I didn't have a clue who she was, of course. This girl came in here with an American accent and a denim jacket on and mentioned that we'd been full the last time she was here and she'd been turned away at the door. It was only later that that someone told me who she was."
The star stories come thick and fast, from the time Sir Ian McKellen chatted candidly about his Kiwi former beau to the time Anna Hoffman (who scandalised 1960s society by getting caught selling marijuana) counselled Millie Holmes (who scandalised 2008 society with her own brush with drugs) about "experimenting but not getting caught".
"People call me a name-dropper, but everyone's got a name. It just happens that I like people whose names everyone knows. I admire people who've got up to do something different, whether they're a Hollywood actress or a reformed Mongrel Mob member. It's the story, not the name, that attracts me."
Still, the fact that famous faces show up in your bar can hardly hurt business, can it?
"Oh, it's never been about the money," laughs Green, as if this is the greatest joke in the world. "People assume that if you've got A-listers in your venue you're rolling in cash, but they spend the same on a glass of wine as anyone else. They just make our evenings a bit more interesting. Which is much more important anyway."
If you're searching for the secret of Green's success, this is it in a nutshell: he's clearly doing it just for fun.
"We count ourselves lucky to have a lifestyle that has us hosting a Fashion Week wrap party one week and an Aids Awareness initiative the next. The move to Parnell just means we'll have new faces, and new occasions to create. Running Shanghai Lil's keeps Billy and I in the middle of things. And that's exactly where we like to be."
* Shanghai Lil's, 311 Parnell Rd, ph (09) 358 0868 , open Wed-Thurs 4.30pm-3am, Friday 12pm-3am, Sat 6pm-3am, Sun 10am-6pm.
By Anna Hart
Collective experience
By Alan Perrott
4:00 AM Monday Dec 22, 2008
"And that's when I became a Mormon" would sound jarring coming from anyone but Russel Green. Shanghai Lil's slightly cadaverous bon vivant is holding court and such statements are being tossed about wildly. Not bad for someone who was working until 5.30 this morning.
Names, dates and potentially litigious details pour out, you just nod at every rhetorical question and try to keep up. It's great entertainment - even if most is unprintable. Still, when you're enclosed by as many distractions as Green has crammed into his Freemans Bay, Auckland bar - Shanghai Lil's - details of his life story are just the ticket to stop your attention from drifting.
We're sitting in a space where eras clash as vividly as the colours. The result suggests Dr Phibes meets Busby Berkeley in a Raffles-themed whorehouse, a faded decadence that alone makes the place a fabulous curiosity.
It's Green's kimono-clad presence, though, that turns a few quiets into an experience. If you don't have a story about him, then you've clearly never been here. But the 49-year-old's nightly performances at Shanghai Lil's aren't set for an extended stay.
As with most of Green's life, change is approaching (courtesy of a wrecking ball), and Lil will soon have to move on to her third incarnation. But that's okay.
Just as growing up in 1970s Hamilton drove him to religion, Green doesn't like being fenced in. Conformity riles him, it led him into bother at school and then into the Latter Day Saints, a brush that ended when a letter arrived telling him to start saving. Missionary work was a step too far, so he dropped out and gave up his only chance of getting some Mormon undies. They probably wouldn't have suited him anyway, his fashion sense hasn't been the same since his first stay with his Auckland relatives Besides, he's adamant that missionaries end up in the CIA or FBI - it's a long story, ask him yourself.
He adored his grandmother. She lived in Te Aroha while also owning a home in the North Shore suburb of Beach Haven, which doubled as a bach and lodgings for her three daughters. None had married, although one, Lena, managed to remain engaged just long enough for her to catch her fiance talking to another woman, all the evidence of philandery she apparently needed.
The trio transformed their mum's bach into a treasure trove of Victorian and Edwardian finery, and it became Green's favourite holiday destination. "I was fascinated living in that environment," he says. "Of course, people say it's no wonder I turned out the way I have after being bought up by a grandmother who doted on me and three spinster aunties - they were outrageous, quite mad. I loved staying there, I looked forward to every holiday. They had wardrobes full of these amazing old clothes and I used to dress up in them. Not that I'm cross-dresser, no, but yes, I guess they had an impact on what I've become." If not a cross-dresser, a manic collector definitely. Green's obsession began at the age of 7 when he bought a wind-up gramophone with a Maurice Chevalier 78 record for a princely 20c. He still has both, and over the following 40-odd - very odd - years they have been joined by enough stuff to fill friends' garages, storage rooms, one bar, and the home he shares with his partner and Shanghai Lil pianist, Billy Farnell. But we're not there yet. Back to Hamilton where Green was coming to the end of his school days and washing dishes for extra cash. His increasing fondness for antiques had him dead-set on an apprenticeship in furniture renovation, but when that fell flat in 1977 he used his dishwashing connections to become a chef instead.
Two years later, in Auckland for what he thought would be a brief visit, Green fell among the fading embers of the local punk scene and stayed. "I didn't play anything, I just played up." He was living at the Empire Hotel and working at the Mae West bar, above the long-gone City Hotel, a popular spot with certain criminal elements such as safecracker Peter Wright. It was all rather headturning for a new boy in town.
Just as he was settling, though, his girlfriend dragged him off to Christchurch. He returned a year later to get serious about his cooking. First there was Guadalupe on Karangahape Rd, where Alt TV now is, then he set up and ran Bonapartes in Parnell for six years, before a quick trip to Wellington to see his brother saw him accepting a job and accumulating some excellent mafia stories.
A year later he was back and eventually set up The Business in Mission Bay. He looks back on those days with fondness: "Maybe it's just me but it seems that time moved more slowly back then, there was time to smell the roses." Green was also a fixture on the local gay scene and began developing something of an encyclopedic knowledge of Auckland bars -
"I have to admit to being a bit of a drinker, but I think I could have picked worse vices" - while mostly circulating around Backstage, the Crypt, Alfies, Cream, the Empire, and the Alex. "Compared to then everything seems so much more sanitised today, don't you think? There was more acceptance of people then [within the gay community] and more places to go. When [homosexuality] was legalised everyone splintered off into their own little groups. I don't know, I just felt safer then, people watched out for each other more." It was then he met a childhood hero.
"I think I was about 11 or 12, and I remember reading this story about Billy in a woman's magazine. He was a mad collector, and it talked about all the things he had in this wonderful home and some of the great musicians he'd met, people like Nat King Cole, Count Basie, and the Ink Spots.
When I came to Auckland, I met people who knew him, and I even got a job with him, but I never realised who he was until I went to his house and recognised it. To have eventually met him and to now have been living together for 20 years, well, it's quite amazing really, isn't it?"
It's also slightly alarming, considering how much they must have squirrelled away together. There must have been some relief when, in 2005, an opportunity arose for them to put all that lovely tatt to use. After hearing a mutual friend was off overseas, Green offered to take over the rent on the charmingly squalid space he'd been living in at the bottom of Anzac Ave in the central city. It was only $250 a week as the whole building was up for sale. Shanghai Lil's had a home, so had the city's boho community, at least for the few months it lasted.
The interior looked like a clapped-out brothel dressed down in black paint, bead curtains, dim lighting and Asian antiques. It was lovely squalor, and for three nights a week you could enjoy any cocktail you wanted, as long as it was one of the two on their list. Another mutual friend, Grant Chilcott, a crooner about town who always parties like it's 1929, was a regular. He's known Green and Farnell individually for more than 30 years: "Billy's even been to most of my weddings. That place was hilarious. Those two are true gentlemen, eccentrics without even trying, and it really showed out there.
You'd get all sorts of dodgy people looking through the door to see what was going on. They were quite scary types you really wouldn't want to have around, but they'd be welcomed in to have a look around at all the furniture and masks, then they couldn't get out fast enough. It was great.
Definitely a place for people who were out there on the edge." It couldn't last, and within four months Lil was homeless again. Then in February 2006, Green was wandering through Freemans Bay and stopped to peer into the Birdcage's historic corner bar. Apart from a couple of pool tables and the massive portrait imported by former owner and current Auckland mayor, John Banks, another avid collector, the bar appeared unused. He approached the owners, the McCabes of the Saratoga Estate winery, who agreed he could re-establish Shanghai Lil's and away he went.
Green says punters often suggest he must be raking in the money, but he says he's paid only about $400 a week. Licence-holder Kathy McCabe says this figure varies, depending on how much money comes over the bar.
"When it's good everyone gets a bit of it." An admirable stance but regulars might still be surprised, especially given the venue's star-pulling power (Sir Ian McKellen, Scarlett Johansson, Geoffrey Green, the list goes on...). But Green is remarkably eager to defend the situation. He owns almost everything on display and pays for any repairs himself.
"Oh, I don't need the money, not really. All I need is enough for the bills and whatever, but other than that I get to have a night out every night. It's a hard job, but it's a passionate job and we've managed to build a lifestyle around it. It wasn't like I didn't go into this with my eyes open, and it wasn't about us saying 'let's start a business', because it's not a business. It's an experience.
We get to take people to another time where they can do pretty much whatever they want. To my mind, it doesn't matter how wrong or right a person is as long as they respect the people around them. So I'm not all bitter and twisted and I'm not being ripped off. We've created something a little unpredictable I think... and that's exactly what you need once that initial 'wow' has faded."
What Green has achieved with his Erte art deco prints (formerly owned by comedian Michael Barrymore) and a job lot of objets d'art that once graced Flora McKenzie's Ring Terrace brothel, has won him the admiration of Auckland's more formal bar operators. Luke Dallow may have opened the massive Sale St venue just up the road, but he doesn't begrudge his competitor's success.
"They've got their formula just right for what they're after, such fantastic decor, it's got a lovely feel. But then Russel is such an extraordinary character, he's character-plus, the way he flits around like he hasn't got a care, but you know the care is there. Always. It's a delicate balance for them, if you go too niche, too characterful, you won't survive. The audience for that sort of thing is very finickity, you only need a small change in economics or trends and you're gone. But then if I know anything about bars, Russel knows triple the amount and I know he's not in it just for the money, even if he smokes it all away. He's a great smoker."
"Oh, I'm more of an exuberant trainwreck," says Green. "It's easy to get burned-out doing this, especially the way some people treat me. There are some who see me picking up glasses and they get this idea I'm this stupid old person who's failed in life, but I'm doing what I love. If I'm feeling flat I have the night off, that's better for everyone, but we'll keep going till we drop.
"There's nothing else I want to do, I love the energy and I love the people, even when they're telling me all their problems. If they can then go away having had a lovely time, well that's a wonderful feeling."
By Alan Perrott | Email Alan http://www.nzherald.co.nz/lifestyle/news/article.cfm?c_id=6&objectid=10549329
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