Queer Happened Here isn’t just a history book. It’s a love letter to the LGBTQ+ spaces that made New York City feel like home. In it, Marc Zinaman maps out 100 years of queer landmarks across the city, from hidden speakeasies to the iconic bars that sparked protest, pride, and possibility. These places weren’t just about nightlife. They were safe zones, chosen-family meeting points, and launchpads for change.
The book features over 400 works by artists and photographers including Bill Bernstein, Tina Paul, Linda Simpson, Chantal Regnault, and TENz nightlife photographer Jonathan Saldana, whose work captures NYC’s more recent queer nightlife. His images of now-closed venues like No Parking and the legendary Escuelita document scenes that were vibrant, electric, and essential to Black and Latino queer communities.
Each page reminds us that queer spaces have always been more than places to go out. They’re where we build community, find belonging, and make history. They’ve been our refuge, our stage, our sanctuary. But here’s the hard truth: these spaces are disappearing.
Even in an era of growing LGBTQ+ visibility, we’re losing the places that made that visibility possible. A major reason is gentrification. Once queer neighborhoods become trendy, rents skyrocket. Longstanding venues can’t compete. The closure of Barracuda Lounge in Chelsea after more than 30 years was a direct result of luxury condos moving in.
The way we connect has also changed. Dating and hookup apps have made it easier to meet people, but they can’t recreate the feeling of walking into a space full of people who truly see you. That kind of in-person connection is getting harder to find as queer spaces disappear.
Running a venue in New York is already tough. Add rising rent, high insurance, shifting trends, and strict city regulations, and it’s no wonder even the most beloved spots are shutting down. And the impact isn’t equal. When they close, entire communities lose vital spaces for expression, culture, and connection.
Books like this help us remember what these places were, why they mattered, and what we’re losing. Queer spaces have always been where resistance and joy live side by side. They’ve shaped our past, and they still shape our future. We may not be able to stop every closure, but we can honor the spaces that came before and fight for the ones still to come.