McLeod Residence is surrounded by exotic rumors. A few people change
their last name to McLeod, then start a members-only club in a
labyrinth of rooms in Belltown where (it is said) a murder took
place, and next thing you know, other people are saying it’s a
cult.
McLeod Residence is an art gallery, a bar, a laboratory, the
occasional site of haircuts, and at least several other things, but
it is not a cult. Yes, names were changed, but this was done in an act
of solidarity to the enterprise and, in at least one case, merely
because it is possible to change one’s name. The (not-all-that-exotic)
rumor that cofounders Buster McLeod and Lele McLeod funded the place
with filthy-rich amounts of money made at Microsoft: also false.
Buster’s small fortune, from his work in robotics, has been
long since depleted by the Residence’s operating costs; Lele, while of
obscure royal lineage, came from California and has never set foot on
the Eastside.
If McLeod Residence sounds arcane, it is perhaps deliberately so. As
of last week, you may go see for yourself: The lounge, previously
only-McLeods-allowed, is now open to the public. The doorway is
just next to the entry to Txori (convenient for a fancy Spanish snack;
if you’re feeling poorer/more American, a hot dog at Shorty’s is not
far). To get to the McLeod lounge, ascend the precipitous wooden
staircase, turn left, go through the first non-dead-end door into the
room of illuminated lightboxes (aka the South Room), and veer to the
right.
(The site of the murder, which did actually occur, is the
bathroom, past the bar. During the place’s days as a speakeasy, someone
involved in the operation was involved with the daughter of a local
Chinese businessman/mobster; this someone was beheaded in there. Now
the bathroom houses a mesmerizing digital mirror that builds your image
out of innumerable miniature images of those who’ve gone before.
Another rumor that’s true: The premises are rented from a Buddhist
patron of the arts who’s distantly related to Andy Warhol. But,
false: The supposedly Warholian Campbell’s soup cans that came with the
place proved to date from the 1980s, with recycling symbols to boot.
True: One of the rooms used to have a sex swing bolted to the ceiling.
And: A strange brick chimney in another room contains a scary
cubbyhole.)
McLeod Residence is officially devoted to “extraordinary living
through art, technology, and collaboration,” and while all sorts of
cocktails are available, there is an unofficial devotion to
champagne. Living is to be celebrated! On opening-to-the-public
night, celebrants included a lady in a spangled evening gown and a navy
seaman, uniformed but wearing shorts of unmilitary shortness (and
rumored not to be in the navy at all).
McLeod Residence, 2209 Second Ave,
441-3314.