By Maggie Downs
The Cincinnati Enquirer

Two party girls walk hand and hand into Club Clau without stopping at the entrance. (Jeff Swinger photos) | ZOOM |

They swarm behind the velvet rope.

There's no line, really. Just a mass of gorgeous, well-moisturized guys and diva-esque women in short skirts and tall heels.

They're not waiting up to three hours to get into any ordinary joint.

They're waiting to get into an exclusive nightspot. In Cincinnati.

Club Clau is more than the newest element in the renaissance of Over-the-Rhine's Main Street bar district. It's more than a risky investment for two enterprising young men who have their money - and reputations - at stake. It's more than a sleek, contemporary bar, located in a neighborhood pocked by crime and blight.

Clau is Johnnie Walker Blue Label in a bar full of well liquor. It's so elite, it's open just eight hours a week. If you're not on the list of beautiful or well-connected people allowed inside, you'll lie and say you are to get waved in. Yet even if you pass the velvet rope, you may never sit at the $200-plus champagne table in the VIP room.

So far, despite being so extraordinary, Clau is working. The young people, each one cooler than the next, clamor to get in every weekend to buy $10 cocktails.

It's a magnet for young adults - a group that's been moving away at alarming rates. More than 7,200 people born between 1966 and 1975 left Hamilton County in the 1990s - a nearly 6 percent loss. Only nine of the nation's 75 largest metro counties lost young people at higher rates.

The scene

Clau (pronounced "claw") is an acronym for Change Lies Ahead of Us.

And that's the truth.

"It's inspiring a different crowd to come out - more cosmopolitan, internationally-minded people," said clubgoer Michael Lee, 32, a consultant for Procter & Gamble who lives in Mount Adams.

Clau, which opened June 7 at the corner of 12th and Sycamore streets in Over-the-Rhine, is a bar and a dance place like no other in the Tristate.

First of all, there's no sign anywhere that proclaims the club's name, just a curled, claw-like symbol above the door.

Then there's the attitude, the exclusivity that makes everyone inside feel like somebody beautiful, somebody interesting, somebody special. It's simple: You don't get in unless you're adding to the party.

And there's the art scene the club provides. Nearly every wall promotes the work of local artists, bringing that work to club kids who might never set foot in a gallery.

"It's exactly what Cincinnati needs," said Brendon Cull, 26, Mayor Charlie Luken's press aide, who is also working with a Main Street advocacy task force.

The four-block Main Street entertainment district and a few adjacent streets boast more shopping, eating and drinking options than ever for young professionals. So far this year, the neighborhood has given birth to five art galleries, four restaurants and coffee bars, five apartment/condo complexes and three home furnishing stores. And now, one very happening club.

Merideth Crouch (from left) of Florence, Bobby Romell of Hyde Park, Courtney Coomes of Florence and Jessie Cook of Florence enjoy their time at one of the private tables at Club Clau. | ZOOM |

"There's a new energy now. A buzz," said Anastasia Mileham of Downtown Cincinnati Inc. "All of a sudden new places are opening all at once."

There's also a revamping of old places.

The Westminster Billiard Club has transformed itself into Jekyll and Hyde's, a laid-back space with pool tables and games and a dance club in one. Jump is catering to a more upscale crowd. Late-night eateries are squeezing in between the Main Street bars.

"I watch everything happening out of my apartment window on the nights I'm not down there myself," Cull said. "It's packed. There are lines out of most places."

The background

Clau owner Scott Sheridan, 28, has been throwing parties in the Tristate for 10 years - evolving into a professional promoter (with the assistance of operations manager Josh Heuser).

Co-owner Ram Paladugu, 35, also hosted area bashes and was tiring of daytime work with his Oil Express franchises.

Eventually, the two hooked up.

"I'm a great risk-taker," Paladugu said. "When I find something I like, I jump into it."

They acted on their instincts, spending more than $250,000 to transform the former Arboreta Restaurant and Garden into an upscale club.

Things progressed quickly. The lease was signed in January. Clau opened its doors in June.

Meanwhile, the owners did their homework.

They scoured clubs throughout the country, taking photos of the fun and outrageous. They researched New York's infamous Studio 54, the mother of all nightspots. They asked for input from people of different races, classes and genders.

"We ended up with something with so much energy," Sheridan said.

Others are happy to welcome Clau to the mix.

"They're going after pretty much what we do, but I'm certainly excited to see more upscale clubs coming downtown," said Jim Elkus, managing partner of Jump on Main Street.

But some owners of other Main Street bars privately say they're not sure how long Clau can sustain its vibe.

Sheridan and Paladugu admit they are gambling.

"We roll big dice," Sheridan said.

They believe the Queen City is ready for Clau to take hold.

"We've been all over the place, and Cincinnati people are actually pretty wild," Sheridan said. "They just need a place to get crazy."

Other local leaders agree.

"We're looking forward to having operators in here who know their business and know how to conduct good entertainment," said Tom Besanceney, president of the Over-the-Rhine Chamber of Commerce.

A successful business in the trendy nightclub industry is driven by four things, said restaurateur Jeff Ruby - marketing, music, promotion and the ability to attract females.

"Scott (Sheridan) is knowledgeable in all those areas," he said. "And what Scott does better than anyone else downtown is that he understands service."

The club

Here's what Clau's owners - and its patrons - don't want: Hokey drink specials. Beach parties. Ladies' nights. What they do want: Glamour. Artists. Musicians. A vibrant crowd.

That's why the velvet rope. It's a mini-runway.

On a Saturday night, the most eclectic of the bunch skip past the rope first. These are the people wearing angel wings, a showgirl headdress or a crazy mix of both.

The flashy and the fly are chosen next. These are the movers. The shakers.

Eventually, everyone makes it through the haphazard maze of clubgoers and into the door - provided they look spectacular enough. (Fashion tip: absolutely no tennis shoes.)

"It's all about throwing a good party," said Heuser, 24. "If you know how to have a good time, you're invited."

Clau operates by the credo that less is more. That's why it's only open from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. Fridays and Saturdays. (The cover ranges from $5 to $10.)

Friday night is casual chic, when everyone - up to 320 capacity - is welcome. There's no rope to get past. The scene is more low-key. The music is more hip-hop.

On Saturday, that music moves into the rear VIP area, while the DJ in the main room brings on a house/dance groove.

This is the more fashionable of the two nights. The night to see and be seen. The night when bouncers behind velvet ropes control the notorious "List" - a register of names that decides whether you get inside in five minutes or an hour.

Things like the list guarantee a repeat customer, Sheridan explained.

"If we treat people like VIPs, they're going to come back next week," he said.

Inside the club, there are varying levels of exclusivity. There's an owner's section - a nonsmoking, modern room, shrouded in white curtains and outfitted with white leather couches, that overlooks the dance floor. This is the ultimate sector, reserved for people who invested in Clau.

Two mirrored columns enclose live models. They can't see out, but you can see in. Sometimes the models read. Other times they do their nails. Sometimes they just pose.

Just a few feet away is the spacious and mostly white dance floor. But patrons shouldn't get too accustomed to this decor, done by local designer Preeti Joshi.

"We're all about change. Hell, it's part of our name," Sheridan said. "If in six months, white is out, we'll paint the place black."

The back room, a more subdued, chill-out area, is dubbed The Kitchen, because ... well, that's where the kitchen used to be.

"Everyone hangs out in the kitchen at parties anyway," Sheridan laughed.

Here champagne tables are reserved for about $200 - all prices in the club vary according to demand. The walls are painted matte purple. Three-foot paintings of dead rappers hang above each table.

Next to that is the Ruby Room, named in tribute of Sheridan's mentor, restaurateur Ruby, which can be rented for $500 a night. (That includes one bottle of liquor and a personal doorman.) This private area, which accommodates up to 20 guests, is like the bachelor pad of the place. Dark wood. Heavy, antique furniture. A high-tech DVD system with a movie screen that drops from the ceiling.

"We're not trying to reward the people with money (by having the VIP areas)," Sheridan said.

"We're just providing different places to party. That's our business."

E-mail mdowns@enquirer.com

Related stories:
Barkeep: Put another painting on my tab
DOWNS: Hello, Cincinnati: Let's go exploring together