In a recording studio, acoustic sound diffuser panels are practical design elements. This one is made from blocks of scrap wood.
It’s was the day before Thanksgiving and the Gaslight STL was full of workers. Let’s estimate about 15 people, at peak. Some were digging. Some were sweeping brooms, while others swung hammers. Some hung sound diffuser panels (above), or installed cables while standing on the tops of tall ladders, or were constructing tables from scratch, or were adding poly to said tables. All were engaged and in the thick of this once-unremarkable building’s turnaround, the end result being a four-business concept under a single roof.
It’s enough for even a seasoned general contractor like JB Anderson to say, “I’m mentally and physically destroyed.” He says it with something of a smile, so there’s still spirit left in that tired body. “It’s controlled anxiety.”
In theory, the Gaslight STL, a combination bar and music-recording studio, was to have been done by the Thanksgiving weekend, the bar business’ best rush of the year; but the plenitude of workers employed on that bustling Wednesday afternoon suggested that there’s still a chunk of work left to do. Not as much as the month, or even the week, before; but enough to delay things just a bit. Estimates now shift to early-mid December, a setback, but almost ahead of the usual slowdown for restaurant’s or bar’s birth.
“Typically, like I’ve said earlier, you create a construction calendar and it’s always right on paper,” Anderson says. “However, you’ve got human involvement, specifically subcontractors who don’t have the same anxiety level you have for your own project. It’s not a surprise, it’s always just a frustration. At the root, the process is proceeding. It’s always that unknown; like the subs showing up, or not. Today, we have a plumber, still. We’re finishing out wall roughs. Cha Cha Chow’s drywall is getting hung (above). All of our security and digital voltage is being finished up. The furnaces are being turned on. And the day we’re putting in the bathroom, our Johnny-on-the-Spot’s arrived.”
Hanging at the bar for open house hours during the past four weeks, my untrained eye has been attracted to multiple, obvious improvements of late. As example: Mark Logush, project managing the build-out, put together a drink rail last week, along with a couple members of the crew, who banged it out impressively. At noon, the walls of the Gaslight’s bar were bare. By 4 p.m., the drink rail (right) was in-place; bang-bang-bang, the work was done and another piece of the puzzle had been laid into place.
“Here, for us,” Anderson says, “it’s literally daily, the progress. When we look at a project, theoretically, it’s a totality of man hours to execute said project. Every day, when multiple bodies are moving around with tools in their hand, it’s part of that process. Some days, a bar rail goes on the wall and the public sees it. Other days, you’re working on minutiae and the public doesn’t see that. But we have efficient people around us and it’s a good feeling that stuff is getting done.”
Further, “it’s great being able to put finishes in place. For example, putting the toilet in the place on the floor where it’s supposed to go. That’s good to finally do. Tick! Scratch it off the list. But it’s all still stressful.”
From a construction standpoint, the vibes differ. That would be true, whether, or not, Anderson had skin in the game. In this case, he does, with ownership in the Gaslight’s lounge and recording studio, as well as owning the building and his under-the-same-roof construction biz, GC2. He says that working on a business vs. working on a home has night/day qualities.
He says that “from a commercial standpoint, doing a project like this is much, much different than a project for a homeowner. When you’re doing a renovation, an addition, even a new home, they’re wanting it done in order to live their lives. They want their house back, to be able to sleep in their own place, or to have their family’s kitchen back. With a commercial project, if it opens on a Friday or a Monday, it doesn’t have that same effect.”
Hints about the closeness of a project’s conclusion can be overt or subtle. Stacks of drywall go on the wall. “Big tools” start leaving the scene, while smaller ones roll in.
“Once you see paint brushes and soldering irons,” Anderson says, “you know you’re getting close.”
Matt Stelzer, who’ll head up the bar operations at the Gaslight, was Exhibit A of that theory on Wednesday. Five tables (right) have been built in the on-site woodshop, high-tops that’ll seat about 30 comfortably. And Stelzer was the one applying some polyurethane to them, wearing his customary suit of soccer sweats.
“It’s gonna be… I think ‘sleek’ with a old-school look to it, with all the refurbished wood that we took out of this building,” says Stelzer, musing expansively on the descriptions of the Gaslight’s look’n’feel. “It’s an almost 100-year-old building. The bartops were all from refurbished wood. So it’s got a classic look, with these subway tiles and the exposed brick. Industrial meets some warm notes. Rustic.”
These days, the bar’s concurrent tracks of development are becoming more apparent. A 20-tap draught system’s going to be installed, but the lounge will open with a healthy nine; adding a glycol system will follow, allowing for a doubling-up of the draft offerings. (“It’ll happen,” Stelzer says, “just not at the start.”) Local spirits are going to dominate the liquor offerings and bar manager Billy Holly’s developing a short-list of daily, house cocktails. Of course, no matter what your intentions, salesfolk hear about a new place and flock to it, moths to a flame. On a near-daily basis, every manner of sales rep is still coming through, making the pitch; sometimes to folks without buying power, if you happen to be the one standing there
During the second week of December, a liquor license hearing will be held on the fourth floor of City Hall, another landmark in the process. It’s typically known that once a City bar project passes muster with Excise Commissioner Bob Kraiberg, you have a well-lit greenlight on all the other elements in play.
At this point, though, there’s still a lot that can change, or can stay. Judgement calls bounce against plans and borderline calls that can cause problems down the road still have a chance be fixed. On a macro level, a wall that separates the studio and lounge was found to have some gaps; that called for added drywall, plus extra insulation and soundproofing. On a micro scale, anything from color schemes to names of drinks can be adjusted and refined. Added time can be a drag to the pocketbook, but a boon to getting details right.
All of leaves Stelzer saying, “my mood? It’s joyous.”
Appropriate for the season, that. Next time out, we’ll discuss the addition of a restaurant, Cha Cha Chow, to the Gaslight’s mixed bag of businesses.
Thomas Crone, a frequent contributor to stlmag.com, originally covered the Gaslight’s build-out for a piece on the Dining blog in September. After conversations with Anderson and other principals, he signed on to handle some media projects for the Gaslight Studio. He’ll have regular reports on the behind-the-scenes construction of Gaslight STL as the venue moves closer to operation.
