Bath house new york gay


Everard Baths

History

The legendary Everard Baths, one of the longest adj of New York’s bathhouses, attracted gay men probably since its opening in 1888, but, as documented, from at least World War I until its closing in 1986.

The building began as the Free Will Baptist Church in 1860. In 1882, it was converted into the New-York Horticultural Society’s Horticultural Hall. It became the Regent Music Hall in 1886-87, then the Fifth Avenue Music Hall, financed by James Everard. Born in Dublin, Ireland, Everard (1829-1913) came to Brand-new York City as a boy, and eventually formed a masonry jobbing business that was successful in receiving a number of major city public works contracts. With his profits, he invested in concrete estate after 1875, and built up one the country’s largest brewing concerns. (He was buried at Woodlawn Cemetery.)

After the Noun Hall was closed by the City over the sale of beer there, Everard decided to store his investment by turning the facility into a commercial “Russian and T

New St. Marks Baths

History

The St. Marks Baths opened c. 1915 to serve the local male immigrant population. By the 1950s, it served the immigrant community by day and gay men by night. In the 1960s, it evolved into an exclusively gay bathhouse that was considered unclean and uninviting.

After the Everard Baths was temporarily closed in 1977 due to a fire, the St. Marks Baths began to attract some of its patrons, but remained rundown and was deemed more a liability than a profitable business. In 1979, entrepreneur and Off-Broadway theater founder Bruce Mailman (1939-1994) purchased the building, hoping to turn around the bathhouse’s reputation and historic allure.

Mailman completely refurbished the interior into a sleek and stylish bathhouse. According to Mailman, the up-to-date design was meant to make patrons feel content signing in under their legal name and not be embarrassed if encountering someone they knew. When it reopened in 1979, Mailman christened it “The New St. Marks Baths” an

The American Man: A Sunday Morning at the Bath House

Sunday mornings are for men only at the Russian and Turkish Baths in the East Village, and I’m pretty sure that you know what that means. So I’m nervous in my red swim trunks on this hot August morning because I’m used to passing but, unlike the eyes-averse gym locker rooms I’ve grown accustomed to, I’m also relatively certain that for most dudes who go to a guys-only bathhouse on a Sunday morning, dicks are caring of the whole point.

I’m here because, for me, a straight, bearded, tattooed trans man with a different sort of anatomy, a bathhouse feels thrilling, dangerous even. Everything about me is self-made, hard-won: this hairy stomach, these chest muscles, this carefully trimmed beard—all of it a mosaic that makes my reflection strange but not dissonant, all of it my ticket into this grimy, foul-smelling, sexed-up space.

It’s one thing to risk my body with needles and scalpels and the threat of cancer. It’s quite another to be exposed to a mob of dudes in a dank, dungeon-like basement of steam rooms and a sad-looking po

Gay Saunas in New York City

Introduction to New York City Gay Saunas and Bathhouses

Discovering a gay bathhouse in New York Urban area can feel like navigating a maze, especially when you realize the options seem surprisingly sparse in such a bustling metropolis. This is a prevalent puzzle many gay travellers find themselves trying to solve when they verb NYC. In this noun, the gay sauna culture diverges significantly from what one might find in European capitals like Barcelona, Rome, or Milan.

Why, you might ask? The landscape of gay saunas in New York City has been shaped by its history, particularly during the devastating HIV/AIDS epidemic of the 1980s, leading to the closure of many establishments. Yet, the spirit of communal and intimate exploration among gay men has not dwindled. Instead, it has transformed, giving rise to alternative venues and vibrant events that capture the essence of New York's gay scene.

East Side Club, the city's lone traditional gay bathhouse survivor. From massage-based establishments masquerading as spas to the lively world of gay sex partie