Paradise Factory

The below was kindly submitted by Paradise Factory and Manto creator Peter Dalton, May 2025: I lived in Paris for a year when I was a student, and I loved the cafe culture which was prevalent around the Marais - the closest thing Paris had to a gay quarter. When I returned to Manchester in 1988, the 21 year old me struggled to identify with the Manchester scene - with the glorious exception of the No.1 Club - and so many of my contemporaries felt the same. It felt like it was stuck in the dark ages. Despite (or perhaps because of) the burgeoning AIDS crisis that was looming, and a backdrop of discrimination, I didn’t want to be hidden away in a backstreet pub, making the most of things. I wanted to be in a bar that made no apologies, that was proud and in your face. This was the idea behind Manto’s glass fronted design. It was a bar where gay people would be happy to take their straight friends and family members. No more hiding away! Success followed pretty quickly. Everyone wanted a place at the party, and at times we struggled to get everyone in. Sometimes we had to turn great but straight people away. This is not what we wanted - we were there to break down barriers - but our responsibility first and foremost was to the gay community. I always used to say we had to discriminate on the door because the gay crowd didn’t have the whole of Manchester to play out in and, until attitudes caught up, that’s how it would have to be. Paradise Factory was the logical next step, and the former Factory Records HQ was the ideal venue when it came up for grabs. The two venues made the perfect partners, with the legendary Breakfast Club at Manto keeping the party going after Paradise closed. They were happy, hedonistic days, but the venues’ popularity came at a price: constant attention from the police and the city’s notorious gangs. It was hard work at times keeping it all together, but the highs more than made up for it. We loved pushing the boundaries. We were the first venue to operate beyond 2am (apart from the Press Club). I remember having a hilarious discussion with the police who objected to our Breakfast Club licence because back then people couldn’t dance on a Sunday. We agreed that it was okay to wave your arms around if you kept your legs still. After the licence was granted, they’d come down every week to make sure those legs weren’t moving. Imagine that now! We threw parties in disused warehouses, put dance tents and funfairs on Canal Street, took over GMex, The Co Op, Manchester Uni Students Union, Upper Campfield Market….. By the time Queer As Folk hit our TV screens, gay culture was mainstream and much more accepted. The pink pound was being courted by every plc in the country it seemed. After watching the village evolve and try to adapt to the hordes of hen parties and lads (mostly good natured) looking for a laugh, in 2006 I came to the decision that our work was largely done. The next stage - a gay themed village open to all - was a challenge I felt the next generation should rise to. The jury is still out on that one, but 17 years on the front line was enough for me. Special, happy times.




Performance artist David Hoyle's “The Divine David” act hosted Paradise Factory throughout the 1990s.