Árni Grétar, previous owner of Kíkí, looks back.
All good things must come to an end, so they say. For those of us who have partied at Kíkí until the wee hours, the experience of wishing that the night would go on forever is universal. But eventually the music inevitably fades, the lights come up, and it’s time to figure out what comes next. Árni Grétar Jóhannsson, previous owner of Reykjavík’s only dedicated LGBTQIA+ bar, not long ago made the decision to bow out of the establishment for good. GayIceland caught up with him to reminisce over the years spent at Kíkí, and to discuss his hopes for the future of queer nightlife in Iceland.
“I think this corner just wants to be queer,” Árni says, referring to Kíkí’s location on the upper floor of the building that sits on the corner of Klapparstígur and Laugavegur. He was working in the bar below (now Bravó) in 2013 when he was asked by a group of investors to open a LGBTQIA+ spot. Six months, (and quite a lot of DIY work, Árni emphasises) later, Kíkí was born, creating a new and vibrant home for the queer community in Iceland.
The bar changed hands a couple of times after its conception, but fairly early on in its life, Árni and his brother Þórir bought the establishment. “From the beginning it’s kind of been my baby,” Árni laughs.
“There had been a bit of a gap, a strange period in Reykjavík queer nightlife,” he goes on to explain, speaking of the time leading up to Kíkí’s arrival on the scene. Long before the house had hosted Kíkí, it had been the home to 22, Iceland’s first ever openly gay bar. Árni remembers that in the first few weeks of opening, the overwhelming response he got from the community was that, “they were very happy to be back home.”
Over the 11 years Árni spent running and owning Kíkí, the queer scene has changed hugely, along with Icelandic and global nightlife culture more generally.
“We were only open on Friday and Saturdays, from 11 to six in the morning. Often the bartenders and I would be sitting on the windowsills waiting for Icelanders to get their asses out!” He laughs. “Usually they would appear around half past one, especially in the height of winter. And then you would get a rush of people and everything was just crazy right through till six.”
But Árni saw the potential in Kíkí being more than just a place for late night (or early morning) drinking. He worked hard to develop the space into a venue, which eventually saw the bar hosting various queer and alternative culture performances.
“In the first two years there was hardly any market [for shows],” Árni explains. “That was something we built up, and at first it was such a struggle to get people out early.”
“In the first years it was mostly a drag queen called Gloria Hole,” he continues. “She was doing three shows a week, it was a lot of work.”
Many established burlesque and drag performers had their first shows at Kíkí. Alongside Gloria Hole, he mentions Faye Knús, Agatha P., Miss Whoop Whoop, and House of Heart as just some of the many, “Kíkí babies.” But beyond providing opportunities for queer artistic endeavours, Árni is most proud of creating a space and an environment that bred tolerance and acceptance for all.
“There are so many things to look back on,” he reminisces. “All the queer kids who took their first steps and came in, even pretending to be straight at first. We even had staff members who came out while they worked here, who only realised their sexuality after working in and being exposed to queer culture. Some of them had a period of time where they were only out at Kíkí.
It’s been absolutely wonderful to say, okay, I had a safe space for these guys, and created a platform for so many,” Árni concludes.
Often the bartenders and I would be sitting on the windowsills waiting for Icelanders to get their asses out! […] And then you would get a rush of people and everything was just crazy right through till six.
As is to be expected for the country’s only dedicated queer bar, Kíkí has also been the setting for many a romantic tryst – some of course lasting longer than others. Árni tells us that he knows of many couples who first met at Kíkí and have gone on to last – and he’s got the papers to prove it. Because, in addition to his commitments as owner and mangerí, Árni’s focus for the last few years has been as a wedding officiant. “I myself have actually performed two weddings in Kíkí,” he says, proudly.
Not all of the changes that Árni has witnessed in the nightlife scene have been positive however. Covid ravaged going-out culture, and Árni feels that the impacts of the pandemic are still being underestimated.
“Basically you have two or three years of young kids that didn’t learn to go out,” he explains. “Now I feel like the younger generation just doesn’t go out. They look up to their closest peers in age, and copy their behaviour.”
Tourism and the make-up of visitors who come to Iceland has also had a huge effect on nightlife businesses and establishments, according to Árni. “We felt it quite drastically when WOW Air went under. The same weekend we had a 20% drop in sales, because they were bringing younger people, tourists who were here more for city or party breaks. That part of tourism was wiped out in one go.”
Despite the challenges that Kíkí has faced, Árni is still adamant in his stance that queer bars are a vital and necessary part of the scene. “It is very important for us to know that we are a community, and that we belong with each other,” he says, firmly. “A place where we can support and get to know each other.
It was always said that Grindr and apps like that would kill the concept of the gay bar,” he continues. “And in many ways, that is true. But I think that people always find the need to be amongst their peers. I think that’s very important, and if we lose that connection or that means of seeing and being around each other, we really lose the concept and strength of being a group.”
Luckily for the queer community here in Iceland, Kíkí has passed from Árni’s capable hands into those of some of his friends and collaborators, who will seek to continue the venue as a home for LGBTQIA+ nightlife and culture for visitors and residents alike. When asked about his hopes for the future of Kíkí, under the reigns of its new owners, Árni automatically returns to his analogy of seeing his former establishment as a kind of offspring.
I’m very happy that Magga Maack [Margrét Erla Maack] and her crew are nurturing and pampering my baby. I feel like it’s grown up and moved on and is standing on its own two feet now. That’s how I have to see it.
“I’m very happy that Magga Maack [Margrét Erla Maack] and her crew are nurturing and pampering my baby,” he says with fondness. “I feel like it’s grown up and moved on and is standing on its own two feet now. That’s how I have to see it,” he laughs.
“I hope that the queer community – and everyone – will just keep on loving Kíkí. It’s a wonderful thing to know that there are so many people out there who only want the best things for it. I feel a little bit like a proud parent.”
The end of an era is always emotional, but Árni is clearly very at peace with his decision and looking forward to the future of Kíkí as it grows and changes. “I just want to mention what a privilege it has been,” he adds. “Working with hundreds of people who came with the one agenda of having fun and doing an excellent job, and all of our regulars who understood the importance of frequenting a place that you want to have. The Kíkí family is massive!”