There's something inherently funny about a local
Irish bar advertising ''Salsa Night." Maybe it's the sight of
debonair dancers making their way through the rowdy karaoke crowd
during a painful rendition of ''All by Myself." Maybe it's because
Guinness beer and Tito Puente seem as mismatched as Sonny and
Cher.
But if anything can be said about Boston's salsa
contingent, it's that members hardly seem fazed by their surroundings.
One of the most popular salsa nights in the city was held atop
a Chinese restaurant. VFWs, YMCAs, churches, a gay men's club,
and other restaurants have also hosted events.
When Sophia's Latin club on Bolyston Street shuttered
its doors in late December, the salsa faithful were on the move
again -- landing this time at An Tua Nua, a Beacon Street Irish
bar and grill. By all appearances, they haven't missed a beat:
At 11 p.m. on a recent Wednesday, the bar's neon-lighted back
room was packed with more than 100 dancers in frilly skirts and
floppy-collared shirts, all sweating up a storm to the fast-paced
rhythms of salsa, the hottest Latin dance around.
''I think we're so busy in here, it doesn't even
matter" that the venue is an Irish bar, said dancer Tamar Karakozian,
23, of Belmont, between songs. ''I liked Sophia's, but if you
can dance salsa, you can dance salsa anywhere."
Like many an Irish pub, An Tua Nua is furnished
with dark wooden tables and chairs. A glowing Murphy's Irish Stout
sign hangs near the ceiling. The oily smell of fried fish and
chips comes and goes.
At the same time, the bar has never been afraid
to experiment with new foods or forms of entertainment, says general
manager and Ireland native Stephen Murphy. An Tua Nua has opened
its doors to student filmmakers for public screenings, and while
most bars show NFL games on Monday nights, An Tua Nua sponsors
the city's only ''Goth" night.
The back room, where the dance floor is located,
was also where a Latin dance scene was shot for a locally produced
movie called ''The Blue Diner." SalsaBoston.com director Olaf
Bleck helped recruit extras for the scene back in 2001, and when
Sophia's closed, An Tua was the first venue he thought of. After
a quick conversation with Murphy in December, Wednesday night
salsa had a new home.
''An Tua Nua. I asked, 'What the heck does that
mean?' " said Bleck, a 37-year-old MIT graduate. ''They said it
means, 'A new beginning.' It's sort of ironic. We moved here,
and it is our new beginning."
Admittedly, An Tua's salsa nights are still a
work in progress. While more than 60 dancers braved January's
blizzard, crowds haven't reached levels hit at Sophia's, where
180 or more dancers filled three floors. Some dancers complain
the quality of An Tua's sticky dance floor, which is being renovated,
still leaves much to be desired.
Though salsa dancers pass through the front of
the bar to get to the dance room, karaoke singers say there's
very little ''cross-pollination" between the groups.
''It's easier for them to come out and listen
than for us to go in there and dance," said Noah Rosenblatt, 25,
of Brighton, a Boston University graduate student and karaoke
regular.
Regardless, no one doubts that Salsa Nights are
here to stay. Peruse any corner of An Tua Nua on a Wednesday night,
and you'll find dozens of happy bar-goers kicking it up, or belting
it out.
The salsa dancers ''literally fill that back
room. They're positive people. They love to dance. And the girls
are gorgeous," said Kevin ''Kev-MackDaddy" O'Connell, the bar's
karaoke DJ for the past three years. ''A lot of people like to
sing and a lot of people like to dance. What better combination
is there?"
