On the morning of June 13, Brooklyn music promoter Todd Patrick—better known as Todd P—was reconsidering his views on event security. “I’m not a big fan of security pat-downs at shows at all,” wrote the founder of the beloved, shuttered DIY venue 285 Kent in a Facebook post, “but am considering them [and] bag checks going forward.” The post’s dozens of responses, some torn but many favoring the invasive proposal, signaled our less innocent times.
The night before, a gunman had attacked Pulse, a gay dance club in Orlando, killing 49 people in the worst mass shooting in modern U.S. history. This horrific tragedy has served as a crushing reminder of the ongoing struggle for LGBT rights, and it has also rekindled debate over the nation’s brutal and atavistic gun laws. And in a secondary way, the massacre—like the indiscriminate killing at the Bataclan in Paris last November—has also cast a new spotlight on the issue of safety at clubs and venues.
Concerts and dance parties are sacred groundfor many. How can people with assault weapons, and the will to use them, be kept out? And at what cost to personal freedom, which music at its best also embodies and celebrates?
Because event security is a sensitive issue, many club and venue owners around the country were reluctant to talk to us about it. (Todd P hasn’t responded to email requests for comment.) That said, club management and security personnel contacted by Pitchfork expressed a view that, while no safety measure is foolproof, spaces absolutely can take precautions to minimize the risks. Still, their comments also suggest these efforts would have a much better chance of succeeding if fewer would-be murderers were walking around with legalized weapons of mass destruction.
Monika Bernstein, who runs the San Francisco event promotion and production company Blasthaus, echoes what many (including Senate Democrats) believe: Our gun laws are the issue. “Security [here in San Francisco], especially at larger venues, is always diligent about checking bags and pockets for weapons, drugs, etc.,” she says. “But there’s nothing that can stop a person with an armed rifle from shooting their way through the front door.”For her, the solution is keeping guns out of the wrong people’s hands and providing better mental health services.
Waiting for Congress to act sensibly about guns, though, will take a while; the fact that states have widely varying gun laws does not make reform any easier. In the meantime, there’s a sense that, as in the aftermath of previous terrorist acts, venues must stand up to hate; dancing, after all, can be an act of defiance. “We all have to keep on going,” says Jacob Thor Anderson, a nightclub security veteran. “Do your job, pay attention, and just make sure people feel safe.”
For better or worse, some venues find security pat-downs and bag checks to be an increasingly necessary precaution. A properly staffed and trained security team with metal detectors can screen for weapons about as well as TSA, for whatever that’s worth, Anderson says. “If you want to be absolutely sure, that’s where it has to go,” he says. “Every bag gets checked, every person gets checked. You hope this is an isolated incident. But who knows?”
The Portland venue where Anderson worked in security for nine years, which asked not to be named, is fairly small. Even in a space of modest size, he advises the security staff have an evacuation plan and a way to communicate it in an emergency. He also recommends that security guards take it slow, talk with the people walking in the door, and, above all, trust their instincts. “Make sure that you’ve had contact with everybody,” he says. “Make sure that, just for safety’s sake, you know who people are and if they’re OK.”
The larger the space, the more likely they are to have tougher security measures in place already. The San Francisco club Mezzanine, which has a 1,000-capacity dance floor, does pat-downs, checks bags, and for some events uses metal-detecting wands, says Deborah Jackman, the general manager. She tells Pitchfork that Mezzanine hires the local firm Security Intelligence Specialist Corporation (SIS) for its security.
John Windsor, CEO of SIS, says his company is the largest security provider for entertainment in the city, with 1.7 million IDs checked last year. First, venues need to be sure to have a security plan in place. As part of that, he recommends security cameras, which he says should be obvious to customers as a deterrent of sorts. He also advises a well-trained, highly vocal front-door staff, again partly because the sight of a communicative team might help ward off possible wrongdoers. In terms of technology, Windsor cites similar logic behind ID scanners, which tell attendees the venue has their data and they’ve been logged. Metal-detecting wands, too, can serve as a deterrent, so long as they’re effective ones and they don’t cause the staff to be less careful about pat-downs.
All that, though, depends on the venue or event promoter fully embracing it. That means not loosening the rules, whether for someone seemingly harmless-looking in line or for a performer’s entourage. “It has to be all or nothing,” Windsor says.
Club owners can’t throw their arms the security process more tightly than Americans clutch their guns, though. The omnipresence of firearms here is a yawning gap in any venue’s safety plan. And it’s in the control of the voters and our elected representatives.
Anderson, the security veteran from a smaller club, says he owns an AR-15, the weapon originally believed to be used in the Orlando shooting (the weapon has since been identified as another assault-style rifle, the Sig Sauer MCX). “I grew up in Montana—my dad bought me one,” he says. “I would happily give that thing up. It doesn’t have any real practical use in the everyday world—it’s a piece of military equipment. When people say, ’Oh, it’s for hunting, oh, it’s for this’—no, it’s not. An AR-15 doesn’t defend your home. Like all guns, it’s a weapon. It’s meant to kill. There does need to be a fundamental change in what is allowed and isn’t allowed in the hands of civilians.”
In France, the day after the Orlando attacks, two people were killed by a man wielding a knife, in what’s being considered another act of terror. If he had carried a gun like the one used at Pulse, the results could have been far worse.