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Weekend Field Trip: The Dominion Club
It’s too bad that Torontoist had to inaugurate our photo essay series in a building that isn’t yet electrified, but somehow the fuzzy pixel recreations of the dimly lit Dominion Club seem to parallel the mood of the place. The members club held an open house this weekend, replete with sweatshirt wearing club staffers, free Al Van Houtte coffee and six million dollar condo advertisements. It was a strange mix, to be sure, but amiable superbuilder Harry Stinson knows what he’s doing. The club is going to be absolutely beautiful, and whether you can afford the $5,000+ membership dues (we can’t) or not, the place is well worth an hour of your strolling and drooling.
Stinson, a slight man dressed all in black, sipped a beverage from a straw as he milled about the grand hall, which he says functioned as a bank until 2001. He told us that the club aspired to be a place that felt like family, a place where people would go to spend a lot of time.
Stinson, who seems equal parts soaring entrepeneur and gentle preservationist, also told us that Toronto had more of these old and opulent buildings than people thought. “It’s just that they’re hidden,” he says. Not so the Dominion Club, the ceiling of which is in some parts cracked and peeling, and, in others, ornately covered with each province’s coat of arms. 
Torontoist likes the turn of the century grandeur of the place, and finds amusement in the fact that, though you’ll pay between 5-8K to be a member, once seated in the club’s fine dining hall, food will be Ikea cafeteria cheap. One of the reps told us a chicken plate that would cost you $25 bucks elsewhere will hover around $15 at the Club. So you’ll save money by becoming a member. Genius.
Also genius is the bank vault that will remain in the basement for members’ personal vaulting needs. It’s all a bit Cask of Amontillado, but it’s also, well, pretty darn awesome.
If we smoked a pipe, we’d want to smoke it here. But for now we’ll have to settle for a free cup of coffee, and a few seconds of ‘pretend your Dorothy Parker.’
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