Jenny C.
Yelp
This is the type of space you would get verbally abused for by some curmudgeon of a professor in design school.
The entrance is timid. Where's the circulation? Why is there such a dramatic separation between the front and the back? It's severed. The material palette is questionable, are you sure about all that black? Where's your central gathering space? I don't understand your logic. WHY WOULD I GO HERE?
And you, you wannabe designer, would stand there, dumbstruck, face to face with someone with more years of experience that you've likely been alive. You'd glance at your drawings and your model, hoping... PRAYING... that the answer to all of those questions was somewhere in there (it's not) and that you had just glossed over it (you didn't). So you take a gulp, and figure if you're going to fail, fail big, and finally manage to sputter out:
"Because... well... um... it's AWESOME."
There's absolutely no rhyme or reason to anything at the Hawthorne Hideaway. Yet it's almost a refreshing that hodge-podge knows no bounds. No concept, no theme, no cliché vibe that's so rampant in the hippest of hip neighborhoods. When you can walk in at 5:30 on a sunny weeknight and leave to a dark night sky after 8:00 pm without realizing how many hours you've just wasted, that says something to the enjoyable nature of the place.
It's a fantastic spot to kick back with friends for a casual drinks. The bartender was a spectacularly friendly guy. He even went so far as to agree with my critique of the deplorable design of my wallet. (the last time I buy one because it looks pretty, form follows function, y'know?) Attentive and efficient, no one in our group was without a drink or food for very long.
The back room is the place to be for groups hanging out. We spent the evening playing free pool, listening to a bizarre mix of top-40 and classic rock, and wondering why anyone would watch poker on TV. It's nothing spectacular, definitely not flashy, but it's nice. No, you know what? Hawthorne Hideaway is great.
But the old academic crowd just wouldn't buy it. The centuries of perfecting spatial composition and defining honest tectonic expression are a loss. Baffled at your explanation they would turn to a building completely unattainable by today's standards of design. Know the Grand Staircase of the Palais Garnier? Now there's a wonderful gathering space. Have you seen that? Do something like that, but you know, for Portland.
"Yeah... Okay." You say as you hold back your tears. Your critique may only last an hour, but at least you know you've found a good spot to cry into your beer as you head back to the drawing board for the rest of the term.