JACK LONDON BAR - IMAGE: Mike Grippi
After walking through a brightly lit hall
of middle-aged men playing pool and watching UFC, it’s vaguely
disconcerting to descend a staircase and suddenly find yourself in a dim
room full of effete art-school kids selling zines, spinning glam rock
on vinyl and doing spoken-word performances before a backdrop of crudely
drawn penises. Somehow The Jack London Bar (529 SW 4th Ave., 228-7605), the resurrected basement lounge below the dingy Rialto, has established itself as the
new downtown darling of Portland’s alt-lit crowd, quietly playing host
to lectures, readings and art shows while scary dudes with big bellies
play video poker upstairs. Dark, grungy and graffitied, the bar suggests
an edgier scene, but the Instagramming audience sipping box wine says
otherwise. Still, something about the Jack London feels slightly illicit, like the folks
upstairs might suddenly appear, brandishing their pool cues, to chase
everyone back across Burnside.

