Misty Gonzalez has been groomed at TJ Byrnes, an Irish pub in the financial district of Manhattan for 13 years. For most of that, she has served office workers, college students and city employees.
Two years ago, she noticed an unfamiliar face. This new crowd was young and usually stopped by for poetry readings, book club gatherings and parties. Aside from their age, their drink orders make them stand out.
“The martinis are the biggest. We couldn't even get over the number of people drinking martinis,” Gonzalez said. “There are a lot of Negronis too.”
For the past year, the pub has held talks led by art critic Dean Kissick, a monthly reading series called the Emily Sassar Newsletter, for single leaders, Performance Art Karaoke Competition, Performance Art Karaoke Competition, Performance Art Karaoke Competition, and Patio.
Some of Sandberg's 180 guests were initially confused by the choice of location.
This was the first time people texted me that they said, “What is this place?”
“I don't call it a new secretary,” she added, referring to a downtown bar that often bursts in seams along Canal Street. “However, if there is a branded event, such as a magazine party or reading, it will be the venue.”
At first glance, TJ Burns may seem like an unlikely appeal to writers, artists and fashion types. The bar is located in a strict square behind Key Foods grocery stores, located at the base of a 27-storey residential building. The façade overlooks the courtyard, which is shared with the kindergarten and the diner. The interior is modest, with a dark wooden bar on the front and a red leather booth on the back.
Thomas Byrne, 70, the owner of the bar's name, may look to the scene, sitting at a messy desk just inside the dining room or on a high tap near the entrance. In a pinch, he pulls a pint behind the bar.
“I'm very practical,” Byrne said. Byrne has a neat mustache and usually wears a button-down shirt tucked into black pants. He commutes to town every day from Yonkers, where he has lived for the past 32 years. “I'm not saying I don't take a break, but I'm here a lot of time and I like it.”
Byrne, the youngest of seven, moved from Wicklow County, Ireland in 1972 and joined his brother in New York, where he worked at bars. Along with his older brother Sheamus, he ran a pub on Fordham Road, the Bronx from 1975 to 1991.
After they closed the place, his brother Dennis came across an empty Chinese restaurant on Fulton Street. Although serious modifications were required, some of Manhattan's busiest office buildings were given their size and proximity. After several months of construction, TJ Burns opened the door in October 1995.
With the exception of short windows during the city's community's blockade, the pub has been open almost daily for the past 30 years.
“People say, 'Yeah, you're still here,'” Byrne said. “We passed September 11th, we went through Sandy, big storms and tough times.
Byrne recalled that the day after the attack on the Twin Towers, the brothers finally passed through police barricades to find a bar filled with neighbours.
“I came here just to have a lot of people together,” he said. “People were suffering and this was a place of encounters to sit and talk.”
He said TJ Burns always had eclectic customers. City workers at 100 Gold Cent are mixed with students at Pace University's Musical Theatre. Office employees, retirees from the St. Margaret's home apartment community and residents of South Bridge Tower sat shoulder-to-shoulder at the bar. However, a particular confluence of events was needed to lead a more artistic crowd to the door.
It may have begun in 2022 when author Ezra Marcus sang bar praise in a completely incomplete recommendation newsletter. “Barnes is a holdout against the massive extinction of normal places for ordinary people to drink drinks in town,” writes Marcus, an occasional contributor to the New York Times.
A few months later, New York artist Joshua Citarera, an artist studying online subculture, called Tj byrnes, and in an Artnet article he called “New forlini's” and became a cool kid issue in downtown before it was unexpectedly shut down.
At the same time, the Micro-Neighborhood, just a few blocks away from Forlini's blocks known as Dimes Square, was a bit more upscale for some with the arrival of rich boutique hotels and fine dining.
“It just has a better vibe,” Citarera said she was hosting a reading group at TJ Burns recently with author Mike Pepi. “The transformation of downtown New York has transformed everything into a condominium. Nothing is real or staying here.”
The South Street Seaport area surrounding TJ Burns has undergone its own changes. In the rough neighborhoods that author Joseph Mitchell celebrated at the fish market, the district has been transformed for decades recently with large real estate investments, new shopping destinations and independent art galleries like Dunkunstahl at the old Dunkin Donuts on Fulton Street.
When McNally Jackson Books opened the Seaport location in 2019 and became the hub for literary events, TJ Byrnes became his favorite post-reading location.
Jeremy Gordon, senior editor of the Atlantic, was featured in the bar after one of these McNally Jackson events. He took it straight away. TJ Byrnes is very spacious for the city, but he described it as “beautiful and cozy.”
When his debut novel, See Friendship, was published this month, he decided to throw a book party there.
With a reader lineup and an open bar, Gordon invited around 60 of his friends. The crowd sipped on vodka soda and wandered around in “many small pockets” of space. This includes a larger dining room and a more hidden side area.
“It's the type of place I want to continue to exist as long as I live in the city,” he said.
For some, it's the offset needed for noisy bars and restaurants that cater to Tiktok crowds and those looking for the experience behind the Red Rope.
“I don't want a concept,” says Alex Hartman, who runs the satirical meme account Nolita Dirtbag, who disagrees with what he sees as a trend he mercilessly spends on interior design across creative classes in downtown. People are “protesting this type of aesthetic lifestyle,” he added.
With a shortage of affordable bars and a surge in private clubs taking over nightlife, TJ Byrnes is an antidote as it lacks pretense.
“It's an anti-member club,” Sandberg said. “We have this huge cohort in New York City and we want to enter this locked, password-protected paywall door, and TJ Burns is right there.”
Byrne is a hardcover planner and manually tracks events and parties at his bar. Many people trying to entertain there text him simply to reserve a space. There is no need for a fee or bar minimum.
“I like the people who come here for the artist group,” Byrne said. “They're really happy they've dealt with the place and enjoyed themselves. We enjoy having them here.” During measurements, he often listens from the spot, heading backwards.
On a recent Friday night, furniture designer Mike Lewis Cera celebrated his 28th birthday with around 100 friends at TJ Burns. His guests beat up a pint of Guinness, sipped martinis and negronis, and ordered classic bar dishes like mozzarella cheese.
Away from the party, Andy Veres had closed the tab. Bereth, who works in New York City at Data Communications, has come to TJ Burns for 17 years, usually several times a week.
“This is my 'cheers',” he said.
Even as the crowd began to swell as it was back then, Veres said the bar was barely loud for him to have a conversation.
“It's a very special place and a staple in the community,” he said. “Only the neighbors really know about this.”
