Beijing Boyce

Richard Robinson and friends deserve multiple hugs and handshakes for organizing the Chopschticks comedy series. I caught act two a few weeks ago at icehouse and Al Ducharme was hilarious. Just as impressive was the local blues band that played later. It took over from the recently departed Chicago crew and was way better than I expected (and with no cover charge). For cocktails, try the Long Islands; I also had a decent Martini in the adjacent lounge.

(From Beijing Boyce XXI, first emailed on July 27, 2006) 

Richard Robinson and friends deserve multiple hugs and handshakes for organizing the Chopschticks comedy series. I caught act two a few weeks ago at icehouse and Al Ducharme was hilarious. Just as impressive was the local blues band that played later. It took over from the recently departed Chicago crew and was way better than I expected (and with no cover charge). For cocktails, try the Long Islands; I also had a decent Martini in the adjacent lounge.

(From Beijing Boyce XXI, first emailed on July 27, 2006) 

Icehouse got its name because during the Qing dynasty the place was apparently, surprise surprise, an icehouse. Maybe that’s the problem. After all, if it had good feng shui, then emperors past would have used it for a dining room or guest quarters, instead of a place to store frozen water. I know, I know, the lounge is partially owned by Handel Lee, who is associated with all that is high class in Shanghai and Beijing. Thus, my discomfort is obviously due to a personal deficiency in taste. Even so, I’m not the only misfit, because numerous other people have found Icehouse to be too boxy, too flat, too vacant, too much like the cement-floored, soulless events room in my hometown’s ice hockey arena (of course, only I made this last connection).

While I’m griping, why does Icehouse make it so hard to tell apart the men’s and women’s toilets? I went into one toilet only to run into a woman. I headed into the other toilet only to run into — another woman. I then realized that the first woman was cleaning the place and went back. The result is a terrible dilemma: either I have to use valuable memory space to remember which toilet to use or I have to start wearing adult diapers. This is all the fault of Icehouse!

Finally, there’s that hallway, which I’m guessing is 80 meters long. It’s impressive going in, although some oxygen tanks along the way would be nice for the less fit. Coming out, especially if you’ve had a few drinks, you could end up bashing your head off the walls a dozen times and/or be sober by the time you reach the door.

Okay, to be positive, I know some people who like Icehouse and I’ve had a few good times there, too, notably at the Chopschticks event a month ago and at that’s Beijing‘s launch of their 2005-6 Insider’s Guide to Beijing a few weeks back. The latter event featured Grey Goose vodka, and saw plenty of happy people, including a magazine editor who described Icehouse as “fantastic!”

Still, the feng shui factor remains. I dunno, Icehouse reminds me of the New York Yankees baseball team. They spend outrageous amounts of money on their product, they have lots of strong backing and they have a good customer base (Icehouse has Chopschticks comedy shows, ASC wine tastings, Beijing Cheese Society events, etc.). The stars are aligned, but something just doesn’t feel right.

(From Beijing Boyce III, first emailed on November 3, 2005)

Another guy making Beijing better is Rich Robinson, who for the love of humor organizes the Chopschticks comedy shows here and in Shanghai. There were two hundred people at icehouse on September 17 to see John Bush and Tom Shillue, the two comedians Rich flew in from the U.S. (Tom equated being denied sex by a particular sweetheart in high school with him carrying two increasingly swelling mailbags – with every letter in them addressed to her and eager for delivery.) Kudos to Rich and Cherry for making the project a success: check www.chopschticks.com for the next show.
To my horror and delight, Rich bought me a martini: horror, as my last icehouse martini had “notes of kerosene”, delight, as I rarely get free drinks and this one was good. Take this as a sign from Buddha that icehouse is poised to be, as many expect, a major player on Beijing’s high-end bar scene.

After the show, a few of us took John and Tom on a tour of some Beijing nightspots. It’s hard to beat the spacious rooftop deck at Suzie Wong’s on a cool fall evening. Funnily enough, my colleague Lige arrived and remembered Tom from a show he did on 72nd Street in New York – five years ago. If that feat of memory wasn’t enough, she recalled three of his jokes, two of which he had told us at the show just a few hours earlier.

(From Beijing Boyce I, first emailed on October 6, 2005)