On the night Bob Hawke died, the John Curtin hotel in Melbourne’s inner north was packed – its usual crowd of trendy twentysomethings rubbing shoulders with old trade unionists and ex-journos.
Armed with cans of lager named in his honour, the Curtin was the natural place for mourners to remember Hawke, who in the heyday of the 1970s when he was ACTU president, would roll into the pub every Friday evening.
The Victorian premier, Daniel Andrews, was there, as was the former Labor premier Steve Bracks and the then federal Labor leader Bill Shorten. A photo of the three of them drinking their Hawke lagers under a black-and-white portrait of the former prime minister is now proudly displayed on the pub’s website.
Now, the 150-year-old building is being sold to developers, and though its future is uncertain, the music venue’s operators have confirmed its time as a pub has come to an end.
“It’s with an agonisingly sad heart, that The John Curtin hotel’s time on this earth will come to an end,” the hotel published to its Facebook page on Tuesday evening. “The owners … have decided to sell, making way, most likely for apartments.”
“We have a lease until the end of November this year. Beyond that, we have no idea what the developers will have planned for us.”
This place can’t be made into appartments.
— Luke Hilakari (@lhilakari) February 15, 2022
It’s a Melb. Labour Movement institution.
We must save it! pic.twitter.com/xLJ0A7lC1O
Located across the road from Victoria’s Trades Hall in Carlton and named after another former Labor prime minister, the John Curtin hotel has always been a favourite for party members.
Students, unionists and journos have downed Coopers green at its shadowed booths for decades, though it was in the 70s the pub made its name as the preferred watering hole of Bob Hawke.
Hawke’s daughter, Sue Pieters-Hawke, remembers as a child “sitting up at the old wooden bar with all these blokes”.
“It was Dad’s watering hole, his second home,” she says. “It was a source of a lot of joy for Dad and a lot of joy, and occasional grief, for his family.”
“Dad’s drinking was a source of trouble at times … but it was also how he got to know the trade union movement and form connections. He made amazing friendships at the Curtin, often across factional lines.”
Barry Donovan worked as industrial relations reporter for the Age and the Herald Sun during Hawke’s tenure as ACTU president.
The back bar was where journalists sourced their stories, and the front bar was for the builders and labourers.
“The most important part of the Curtin was the people involved,” Donovan says.
“The geography of it – opposite the Trades Hall, in the increasingly vibrant Carlton at the beginning of Lygon Street, with restaurants, theatre, drama. The Curtin was the starting point.”
Donovan remembers one Friday evening when Hawke was considering his future at the bar. Many wanted him to continue as a union advocate while others thought he should move on to Canberra.
“He asked me privately what I thought. I said, ‘Bob, you should go as far as you think you can go’. He looked at me, nodded and said ‘OK’. Subsequent to that, he ran for the seat of Wills and got endorsed.”
Shorten came on the scene in the late 80s. While he may have missed out on the pub’s “wildest adventures”, the Curtin remained a vibrant hub in the Victorian trade union movement up until the early 90s.
“You’re brought up on legends of arguments and beers had,” he says. “The dispersion of unions from around Trades Hall meant its political connections ebbed, but there were fights, arguments, tears, and many pots of beer consumed there.”
More recently, the Curtin has cemented its legacy as one of Melbourne’s best live music venues, with its curtained band room home to sweaty punk gigs, electronic nights and folk ballads.
The Victorian Trades Hall Council on Wednesday flagged its intention to raise the more than $6m required to save the hotel.
“I’ve had a lot of people reach out to me overnight to say how important it is. I know some people are talking about ‘could we crowdfund it?’,” the Trades Hall secretary, Luke Hilakari, told ABC radio.
“We’ll need some large people investing, but this is something we just can’t let go.”
A spokesperson says the Curtin means a lot to generations of unionists who have fond memories of returning to the pub after large rallies.
“The old guard still come down and reminisce about the bad old days, mingling with kids who just love the Curtin’s music scene,” they say.
“It’s a place for plotting industrial mischief and celebrating wins – the road between John Curtin and Trades Hall was the scene of a seriously great party after the marriage equality vote.”
The Victorian premier, Daniel Andrews, said on Wednesday he could not comment on the future of the site but would like to see an “optimistic future” given the history of the “first-class establishment”.
Current band booker Paris Martine says staff will keep fighting for the Curtin and other live music venues in Melbourne.
“These are our community meeting places … the places we danced half-naked on the bar til the wee hours of the morning to celebrate the legalisation of same-sex marriage,” Martine posted on Facebook. “The place we met partners and made friendships … places for debate, for politics … places of arts and culture where you saw an act you came to love.”
For Pieters-Hawke, the heyday of the Curtin in the 70s may have long since passed, the blokey, male culture no longer as dominant, the influence of the union movement on national politics lessened. But the memories of such “a rich time” remain strong.
“It was a home away from home for Dad,” she says. “A place of not just drinking and bullshit but ideas, real debate, formulations of policy and action.”
