The Driskill Bar & Grill By Moira Muldoon Special to the American-Statesman Thursday, September 12, 2002 Here are the occasions for five of my recent excursions to the Driskill Bar & Grill: a quiet drink after dining at the new 1886 Cafe; a celebratory drink with my mother and stepfather when I got my master's degree; a singalong drink after inducing the pianist to play some familiar show tunes, much to his horror; a literary drink with a former professor when he returned to Austin on book tour; and a raucous drink distinguished by a pair of my intoxicated male friends two-stepping through the refined Friday night crowd then kissing each other, much to the crowd's astonishment. (The guys are actually straight; it's a long, long story.) The point being, the Driskill is a good bar for just about any occasion. (Though there probably are better places for two-stepping and drunk kissing, come to think of it.) 
The Driskill Hotel, built in 1886, has a long history of big occasions: Lawmen gathered to plan the ambush of Bonnie and Clyde; Lyndon Johnson watched numerous election returns (for the Senate, for the presidency) at the hotel; and Ann Richards held her inaugural ball there. And you just know all of those folks -- the lawmen, the governor, the president -- passed through the bar at one time or another.
Of course, the bar looked a little different back then. Over a span of four years in the mid-to-late '90s the building underwent a complete renovation. These days, you'll find light fixtures composed of guns, spurs and tiny lampshades, a copper-plated ceiling, longhorns on the wall and big leather couches and bar chairs with cow-print horsehair backs artfully placed about. The wooden carousel bar that patrons now saunter up to for drink-ordering is based on the original carousel bar the Driskill inherited from a local theater company years ago. It had been part of a production set, and when the show closed down, the theater folks gave it to the Driskill, where many a real drink was drunk upon it. Overall, the Driskill bar is a good, open space, with expanses of green carpet and a stained glass dome in the center; it's big enough to accommodate a Texas-sized wedding party but it's not bursting with tables and chairs -- you don't feel crowded and claustrophobic. (Though any bar on a Friday night can present problems for the true claustrophobe, obviously.) And the variety of folks who come to the Driskill makes for some delightful people-watching (which is only logical; if the Driskill is a good bar for most any occasion, then people would drop by for all kinds of occasions: celebratory, singalong, hangout.) Ann Richards may have left us for New York, but plenty of interesting folks still drop by the bar. Not too long ago, the pianist was playing a Jeff Beck song when Jeff Beck walked up to him to talk about it. Chris Isaak and Bonnie Raitt have put in recent appearances. Personally I've never seen a celeb there (then again, I don't what Jeff Beck looks like), but I love watching the mix of people anyway. On a recent Monday night, a handful of 22-year-olds sat around the piano, a brace of business people sat off by the bar, a couple canoodled in the corner, and a bunch of heavily tattooed musicians from New York or Chicago (I forget which -- and I didn't recognize them either) took over the tables by the doors. Given that there were only about 15 people in the bar in total, that's a pretty diverse crew. And that, together with the campy Texas décor, the sense of history, and the bar-for-all-occasionness, is exactly why I have drinks at the Driskill. Contact Moira Muldoon at bargirl@covad.net | ||||
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