When Spectrum closed last year, Eugene lost more than a bar. It lost its only dedicated queer nightlife space.
The downtown venue’s closure left a noticeable gap in the city’s LGBTQ+ scene. For years, the nightclub served as a central gathering spot for drag shows, dance nights, and community celebrations.
A year later, Eugene’s queer community has adapted, using other local clubs and bars to host pop-up events.
“With the closure of Spectrum, there have been a lot of places that started things or expanded what they’re doing, which is really great,” said Lake Castagna, founder of Queer Eugene. “Bummer that a place we did have is no longer an option. It would be better if we just continued to have more and more options. But I see that there are some really good actions that our community is taking for us to grow together and have more intentional spaces together, which is really great.”
For Castagna, the change has revealed both the creativity and the challenges of maintaining community in a small city. Queer Eugene, the nonprofit she co-founded four years ago, helps connect people to local events, educational programs, and mutual aid resources. It also supports others in creating their own projects.
“We uplift community members who may want to do something, but they don’t know how to reach people, are having trouble finding a venue, or otherwise need some kind of facilitation and support,” she said. “That’s how we have our history club, different climbing groups, we have a grappling club, and several other what we call affinity projects.”
Through those interest-based groups, Castagna said they hope to make it possible for more people to experience a sense of community.
“There hasn’t been a centralized thing for people to access community,” she said. “Hopefully that’s growing and changing. We have to walk that fine line of how we communicate what’s going on but maintain our safety.”
Safety and visibility are ongoing concerns for the queer community. Castagna said balancing the need to be seen with the need to protect one another is something many constantly navigate.
“I know for me and a lot of people, there’s the balance of I’m going to be authentically me because I deserve it and other people deserve to see themselves represented,” they said. “But if I am so visible and so authentic that something happens to me, I no longer have the ability to be visible for other people. So finding that balance of safety versus authentic voice in the community is hard, and it flows back and forth for everybody.”
That balancing act also affects how events are planned. Some are publicly promoted, while others are shared privately though message chains, word of mouth, and non-traditional forms of social media. Queer Eugene maintains an online calendar and uses Substack.
The Lavender Network, an LGBTQ+ community center, provides a physical space for several Queer Eugene events through the Maxwell Community Hub. Castagna said that having a consistent place to meet has made a difference.
“I think the need that has the highest priority is building a stronger community connection, and there are a lot of different mechanisms that can help that happen. Anything that allows for relationship building is important, but everyone has different interests,” she said. “I personally am not going to be able to build relationships in the middle of the night in a loud environment. For some people that’s amazing, but I want to do a book club or a picnic or something.”
For others, nightlife remains a vital expression of queer culture and identity. Longtime DJ and club promoter Enrique, who is known as DJ Enrique Damnit, has been creating pop-up events at various venues around Eugene.
“The fact that just existing and that we can have these events is a political statement,” he said. “It’s so important that we all support each other. That’s why I started doing The Gay Agenda, the weekly calendar that I publish on my Instagram.”
The absence of a dedicated nightlife venue has opened the door for more niche events that cater to specific interests and different groups within Eugene’s LGBTQ+ community. DJ Enrique created several of these pop-up events, including CHUB, which centers gay men, and Dirty Pop, which welcomes “the gays, theys, and strays.”
“In terms of people sticking with their core groups, that still happens,” he said. “You need to program to your specific core and stay true to that. Because as much as we all want to get along, not everybody feels comfortable in a mixed gender space, and I think that’s okay. Luckily, with Eugene, we have so many creatives and so many promoters who are carving out their own space.”
However, one of the challenges of not having a dedicated space is keeping track of when and where the next pop-up party or event is being held.
“It’s a little bit of a treasure hunt,” he said. “You really need to dig to find out, but the state of gay nightlife is there, it’s vibrant, you just need to know. And it’s kind of fun that it isn’t so apparent to everyone.”
Despite the loss of a community space, both Enrique and Castagna agree that the spirit of Eugene’s queer community remains strong. Whether through a dance floor or a climbing club, people continue to find one another.
“I love celebrating queer joy,” Enrique said. “So whatever I can do in my own way, locally, to help foster that, it’s important because we need queer joy now more than ever.”
Castagna said that joy is found wherever there is an opportunity for relationship building.
“There are a lot of ways people can get involved,” she said. “I would love to see our community continue to grow.”
For now, Eugene’s queer community is finding strength in variety and diversity. Some connect on the dance floor, others through shared hobbies or community projects. Each space adds to a growing network of visibility, connection, and care.
