It’s 5 o’clock on a Friday evening as sunlight beats down on the small, fenced backyard behind a gray stone-house. Wooden decking and a stone patio line three sides of the yard, their chairs and tables shaded by wide, white umbrellas.
A waiter clad in a blue button-down shirt saunters back and forth between the tables and the kitchen. His round tray balances on the fingertips of his right hand, holding plates of food and bottles of water. People sit in small clusters, leaning over tables to talk over the classic and funk rock music piping out of nearby speakers, munching on sandwiches and sipping coffee.
But the atmosphere of Klubi<<M>> Club is not always this relaxed.
In just a few hours, the visitors of Klubi<<M>> Club will jump, sway and bob their heads to blaring EDM music. Bright green and red lasers will cut through the darkness, the party scene spurred on by a lone DJ with a MacBook and headphones. Dressed in t-shirts and frayed jeans, high heels and low-cut tops, the eclectic people will dance their night away on the top floor of the house in Pristina.
Since its opening almost a year ago, the club, commonly known as M, has gained a reputation that is hard to define. A 10-minute walk from the city center, M operates as a night club on weekends, a café and restaurant during the day, and an all-around hub for social gatherings and live music performances.
“We didn’t have a concept at first,” says co-owner Vlera Spahija.“The only thing we knew was that we would basically start functioning as a business and as an NGO, somewhere in between, so we could self-sustain in a way — which is the bar — and simultaneously organize cultural and social activities that would bring together people that are struggling that mostly are artists – struggling for a space, struggling for discussion material, eager to learn stuff.”
Five years ago, the three-story house that is now M was abandoned. Owned by the grandparents of Dren Maliqi, Spahija’s husband and co-owner of M, the family house was put up for sale. But legal matters involving the municipality got in the way, and selling was no longer an option for the foreseeable future. Maliqi, not wanting the space to go to waste, invested in the property with the plan to convert it into a place for people with diverse styles and interests.
As a musician, Maliqi wanted M to be focused on arts and culture. He understood the need for a place for free thinking, a place to create art, a place for everyone. And despite the idea originally being Maliqi’s, Spahija has developed a passion for it as well.
Spahija, studying to become a psychiatrist at the University of Pristina in addition to co-running M, often works 18-hour shifts waitressing, event planning and even being a bouncer for the club. She says she needs to cut back on her hours, but she feels M is needed in today’s culture.
“The social scenes here are segregating every day,” Spahija said.“Clubs and bars here in Pristina all have the regular stereotype of people that go there. The fancy girls in expensive clothes go here, the people who love jazz go there. But we need a place that everybody could come and use the space, either to think or work, have fun.”
M is primarily focused on music, although Spahija says they host multiple social and cultural events throughout the year as well. The chance to play at M is very open. Spahija develops a weekly lineup based on who contacts her with the desire to perform. If she doesn’t find anyone, Spahija calls and asks around or writes to people she knows are always willing to play.
During a live music performance, the mood at M is electric. People maneuver around occupied chairs and full tables, laughter ringing out over the noise of animated conversation. The artist on stage belts out upbeat lyrics, and people sing and clap along. Some keep time with the music, their bodies rocking from side to side or their heads nodding with the tempo. Smiles seem to be a permanent fixture on many faces.
The musicians who perform at M range from local DJs to individuals who simply want to share their music with the community. Even musicians from other countries find their way to M.
Visar Kasa, a 23-year-old music student based in Vienna, says M gave him the opportunity to perform an acoustic version of song he wrote himself.
“I think it is a very good platform for young artists to perform, whatever they perform, it can be anything,” says Kasa. “It is really the most flexible spot I’ve seen. It was different because I always went there to party, and this was like a very intimate performance, so it had a different vibe to me and to the audience.”
Kasa says he knew Maliqi and Spahija before M even existed, and they are a big reason why M is distinctive from other social spots in Pristina.
“I think the place would be totally different with other owners. They make the place more likable. I know them for a long time now, so they are friends of mine, good friends.”
Kasa, now part of a band called BiCalko, is excited to return to M sometime in the near future. He says BiCalko plans on having the release party for their new album in M’s garden.
Oda Haliti, a disco and experimental electronic DJ, says the positive energy of the people at M is what really made performing there special.
“I like the element that I have with the public. I can easily communicate through music with them. And I can feel the atmosphere much more. That, for me personally as an artist, is quite important to feel and to see closer the good vibe, that people are enjoying your music.”
In addition to music, M is also known for hosting a variety of events — from yoga classes, to embassy receptions, to various training workshops.
One such event is a flea market implemented by three Kosovar women in their twenties. Although originally focused on fashion, the flea market now encapsulates anything people desire to sell. Some keep the profits for themselves, while others donate them to various charities. No money is exchanged between M and those setting up the flea market, but Spahija says the benefit is that events like this bring “new people and diverse people who can share parts of their everyday lives together.”
Ajola Lushi, a 21-year-old student, says the feelings of social acceptance at M extend to simply hanging out inside the house as well.
“It’s never too crowded, there’s no pressure at all,” she says.
Lushi has been coming to M on and off for a few weeks. And while she initially discovered M through the night club, she now prefers to come in the evenings for the food and live music events. Lounging back on a couch in the living room area and sipping on a macchiato, Lushi says she feels like she belongs at M.
“You know when you walk in a room and people stare at you for a while until you sit down or meet up with someone?” asks Lushi.“That doesn’t really happen here. I can just sit on the couch or at a table by myself or with friends. Nobody judges you really. You can just jump into a conversation with random people or listen. I think that’s why I like this place.”
Throughout the day, visitors also climb up the narrow staircase to the top floor, checking out the small library of books that belong to Maliqi’s uncle Shkelzen Maliqi, a known art critic, political analyst and philosopher. A few pieces of art hang along the denim blue walls — some from local artists, others posters depicting quotes and poems in both Albanian and English.
“It’s funny seeing this place in the day,” says Adrian Ramadani. Ramadani, who has only been to M’s night club scene, steps across the hardwood attic floor towards the bookshelf. “I think I come to night club to escape, have fun.”
He explains how he enjoys M’s night life because the atmosphere is lively, and when he dances, he doesn’t worry about anything else.
“But I think I will begin coming in the day,” says Ramadani. “To think.”
A few challenges are in store for the future of M. In addition to becoming more financially stable, Spahija expresses the desire to lessen the stigma of being a night club and focus on the more cultural aspects of M.
“The first party we had, we totally got misunderstood because even now people still think it’s a nightclub,” says Spahija.
To combat this, Spahija plans on developing and organizing M’s own cultural program during the day, not limiting themselves to simply providing space and catering for others.
Spahija and Maliqi’s plans for M are ambitious, and plenty of work lies ahead of them. But Spahija is proud of what M has become. “As long as we keep the house running inside and the feeling home-like,” she says,“I’m fine with this.”
(Kierra Sondereker is a reporting intern at KosovaLive this summer in cooperation with Miami University in the United States)
