The founder of the long-standing hipster-ish West Side restaurant Julians hadn’t been involved directly with the restaurant in quite some time. But his legacy persisted. A larger-than-life personality, you never knew at what event Julian might show up, his square jaw ready-to-fire sarcasm preceding him by a few paces. He pioneered the “this wait staff may be verbally abusive” approach to restaurant service, in the ‘90s when that became a thing for a while. As the eatery up the street from the extremely-alt-friendly Columbus Theater, and tapped into the West Side counterculture, Julians was a magnet for iconclasts, non-conformists and free thinkers, and they were always encouraged and welcomed by Julian’s upfront, often bombastic, who-gives-a-shit attitude. And yet, he was also known for taking the food and drink seriously, with attention to quality and creativity, even if the product was a hamburger with peanut butter on it, or a six-level dessert you’d never hear of again.
His involvement in many projects – and even in the press, at the Providence Phoenix for a time – helped galvanize the Providence Renaissance of the ‘90s, with a robust, stimulating collection of gallery art on the walls, to the famous collection of pez dispensers and Star Wars action figures lurking in the bathrooms. He set the stage for the whimsy and decor now almost standard in local bars and eateries, and took everything up to maximum volume to see what would happen. His spirit will be riding an invisible motorcycle through the Julians drive through for many years to come, and his character will be found in the creative cracks and crevices of the West Side, influencing artistic souls in perpetuity.