Looking Defiant and Badass: Pat’s in the Flats, at Doubting Thomas

“[Pat’s in the Flats] was a dive bar with a shitty sound system that no one seemed to be able to comprehend. It was a venue that offered an uninhibited space for creative expression, [and] Pat [herself] was the magic.” – Shawn Mishak[1]

In 1987 Patricia Hanych took over her family’s restaurant-bar at the bottom of Literary Hill in Tremont, which had been in the family since 1945. As was always the case, the lunch and after work crowd at Pat’s in the Flats was largely comprised of industrial and sanitation workers, but after the bar became her own—became Pat’s in the Flats—she began booking live music. Before long, Pat’s became the haven for punks, artists, and rabble-rousers looking for a place to be free and to create art, music, and community. Pat recalled “[t]he daytime stench that the sanitation workers [brought] with them because they worked with all this garbage [would]…fill up the [bar] with the [same] smell.”[2] Pat’s was an exceptional spot because of its proximity to the city’s historically industrial Flats, the workers who fueled industry, and to the Cuyahoga River, which transported the raw materials that Cleveland’s laboring class extracted, incinerated, and molded to a global market.

While the paths of Pat’s daytime and nighttime customers didn’t normally cross, Pat’s presence created the connection, as she made an environment where wage workers—many were illiterate, all of them smelly from the nature of their work, could be themselves; at Pat’s no one would judge them for not being able to read the menu. At night, she extended the same patient but stern-when-necessary-presence to the punks, who drank the same domestic beers, eat her famous fish sandwiches, smoked like chimneys (fun fact about Pat’s—people smoked inside even after the laws changed), and danced, shouted, and slammed. The industrial grittiness of Pat’s in the Flats fueled the filth and fury that punks brought at night.

Shawn Mishak, who worked alongside Pat booking shows for 20 years, assembled an exhibition honoring Pat and the community she made happen at the bar at Doubting Thomas Gallery, which is just up the hill from the site where Pat’s once stood. The exhibition serves as a time capsule for those not fortunate enough to have been here for the real Pat’s in the Flats experience, and Mishak brings together superstar-photographers/videographers Jay Brown, Lou Muenz, Anastasia Pantsios, and Malcom Ryder, as well as images Mishak took during his tenure at Pat’s.

The images capture the anger, energy, and utter joy of the place, as well as the range of artists who played there over the years. Pat’s in the Flats is an installation that patently reflects the ethos of the bar, which hosted bands using the straight-forward system of asking Pat, “Can my band play here?” and having her pull out the paper calendar from under the bar and write down your band name. This process evolved over time, with Pat being the first to host the White Stripes outside of their hometown of Detroit, and, starting in the early 00s, Mishak booking 10 or so shows a year, including the popular Halloween shows of 2004-2009, where Machine Go Boom always headlined.

Lou Muenz’s images are emotionally and visually vivid portrayals of the creativity that happened at Pat’s. He captures two of Miss Melvis’ (Melanie Fioritto) many performances—one image has her front and center in 2005 with The Flat Can Co., playing guitar, kazoo, dressed in fishnets with a high school marching band atop her head, the opening band (The Free Minds) members (all of whom were 14 years old at the time) in awe at her feet. Muenz is a master at telling a story that is beyond the “now”; his work provides context for the moment. Likewise, he captures the lead singer of The Cheats (from Pittsburgh) mid-moan, a sliver of a guitarist, concentrating, focused, behind him. While we can’t hear the music, the image projects the artists’ raw energy.  

In July 1998, The White Stripes played at Pat’s, at what was their first gig outside of Detroit, and around this time, Mishak notes, “[B]ands from Detroit to Nashville were streaming into Pat’s on a weekly basis.”[3] Jay Brown captures many bands from this period in stunningly emotional black and white prints. He captures the band Leaving Trains with the doyenne of Cleveland’s rock scene, The Plain Dealer’s music critic Jane Scott, who is dutifully taking notes at what looks like a punk panel discussion. This image from 1995 shows the band lined up next to Jane, beers in hands, looking defiant and badass, the women in short skirts, chunky shoes, and Bettie Page bangs. Brown’s image reminds us that the mid 1990s were a very good time to be a woman in punk/rock, as riot grrrl bands like Heavens to Betsy, Bikini Kill, and Sleater-Kinney were lauded by punks and feminists, and mainstream radio was playing Hole, Liz Phair, The Breeders, Destiny’s Child, and Garbage.

Anatasia Pantsios captures the community around Pat’s in the Flats. Her image of Pat, Jean Brandt (donning a Pat’s in the Flats tshirt) and Jeff Gerish hanging around outside the bar, beers in hands, depicts the unruffled calm that comes when friends and community come together. Mishak brings this ethos to Doubting Thomas, as the installation includes jerseys and a trophy from the Pat’s in the Flats softball team, band flyers, artwork from the bar (including an old sign from a “gentlemen’s” store that was on the men’s bathroom door), and framed articles about the bar and Pat.

Mishak even includes a “bar” with a life-sized image of Pat behind it, and stools from the bar in front so that people could have another beer with Pat. Of course, Mishak says, people took lots of selfies of themselves “with” Pat at the opening.

Whether or not you had the privilege of going to Pat’s, or of knowing Pat, Pat’s in the Flats is an exhibition well-worth our time. The community surrounding Pat’s grew in and through the DIY ethos of the place, thriving long before the existence of social media, at a time when friends were real, and following a band meant traveling to cities on their tour schedule to see them play multiple times. We need to honor these special, uniquely “Cleveland” places and institutions—more importantly, we must study them in order to create more spaces like them in the future.

And, yes, we can grieve them, as we are doing with WCSB, but it’s our responsibility to keep doing, creating, howling, shouting, and singing for the generations who grew up in this age so devoted to image-spectacle over authenticity-experience.

Doubting Thomas Gallery is open on Saturday, November 1, from 12:00 to 4:00 p.m., with a closing event on Friday, November 7, from 6:00 to 9:00 p.m. Malcom Ryder’s short documentary on Pat’s in the Flats will screen on Sunday November 2, along with the film Long Way to Oblivion. Photographers will also give short talks on their work and experiences at Pat’s.

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[1] Shawn Mishak, “Closed Since 2018, Beloved Dive Venue Pat’s in the Flats Has Now Been Sold,” SCENE, March 8, 2021, https://www.clevescene.com/music/closed-since-2018-beloved-dive-venue-pats-in-the-flats-has-now-been-sold-35458477/#google_vignette (accessed October 24, 2025).

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.

Pat’s in the Flats
October 10 – November 7
Doubting Thomas Gallery
856 Jefferson Avenue
Cleveland