Big Time

Pipes, four-by-fours and tools dot the floor. The familiar red paint is gone, replaced by naked beams and high ceilings. The old listening room is now the lobby. Though renovation won't be complete for another three months, one thing is clear: The new Mississippi Studios is big—or, at least, bigger.

Last May, Jim Brunberg announced grand plans to redo the spot he started four years ago when he bought the property for a recording studio—which at the time consisted of an old church and not much else—for $100,000. Originally intended as a space to store his equipment and gear, the pint-sized Mississippi Studios became a "venue by accident" when blues-rock band Hot Tuna left a recording session and went downstairs to perform a spontaneous show on the church's leftover pew. Since then, it's become Portland's de facto spot for sound geeks and acoustic shows, hosting both local performers and national acts (Death Cab For Cutie, Mike Dougherty). Even Feist played a few years ago—before the iPod commercial and Sesame Street appearance. Mississippi Studios was a musicians' venue. But even musicians need to get paid.

"People feel in love with the little tiny space—but that little tiny space just didn't work," the 41-year-old Brunberg says. "There was no way for us to make enough money to pay the bands. The one thing we always had was we could record the sets—I had the gear and knew where to stick it—and I think that was the only reason we were able to survive."

The old Mississippi Studios was an intimate, comfortable spot with a capacity of 80, known for its indelible sound and a warmth that matched its fidelity. After renovation, though, it'll be a whole new beast. The space has tripled in size, with a balcony, double-sided bar and, come late summer, access to the roof. Fire code will let 250 people in for a standing show, but Brunberg confesses that it's more probable that 180 will fit with chairs downstairs. The original plan was to reopen in October, but building code issues pushed the timetable to 2009.

During the process, Brunberg realized that his strengths were more technical than promotional. After running the business on his own since Mississippi Studios' inception, Brunberg will delegate booking duties to Alicia J. Rose, Doug Fir's longtime talent buyer and promoter, come 2009. "I am a horrible business person. I knew that she could make it work—she has ideas about pulling in investors and sponsorships—things that I would never really think of or want to deal with," he explains.

Despite claims that Brunberg stole her from Doug Fir, they both insist that Rose left voluntarily. After 4 1/2 years, she felt like it was time to move on. "I felt like I had really hit the wall both creatively and challenge-wise," Rose wrote WW from Los Angeles. "Getting Dour Fir on the map in a time when Portland was treated like a secondary tour market was a bit of an uphill battle in 2004, but it sure was fun. What can I say, challenges are fun."

Rose also has big musical plans for the venue. "I have described where I see it going as 20 percent less rough-and-tumble rock than Doug Fir, but a substantially more diverse booking style than its previous incarnation," Rose says. "We will be focused heavily on discovering, showcasing and growing local talent."

Along the way, Brunberg has received help from a number of sources. Many local businesses—including Southeast Portland's Rejuvenation hardware, which donated $30,000 in free lights—have given gifts or labor to the project, mostly unsolicited. Almost all the scraps from the original building are being reused, including the toilets and old church sign. Though he's concerned about the state of the economy, Brunberg is quick to note that no matter how bad this recession gets, people will always want to "see live music and drink alcohol." That's all he can ask for.

"I'm not a promoter, I'm a musician. Alicia is also an artist and musician, but she's also a business woman. We want to do as many interesting things that can't happen at other places as we can. I mean, we're not going to get anybody rich with a 180- to 250-seat venue."

WWeek 2015