The program for Phinneywood

(Note: The we in this refers to me and my wife Sarah, who is my co-conspirator in this adventure.)

The motivation

With a quarter-century of experience in theater and construction, even more than that in music, and now nearly a decade of experience in and around film, well — we still can't quite decide what we want to be when we grow up.

The boundaries between different art forms have become ever more blurry (aided in part by the growth of platforms like YouTube that have provided increased access), allowing us to ask:

• Are the early recordings of Snarky Puppy a studio recording, a live performance, or a video production?
• Are NONOTAK creating music videos or performances you watch, or are they building spaces that you want to place yourself in? (Follow these links with caution if you have photosensitive epilepsy.)
• Was this jam session's venue chosen to draw in viewers, inspire the musicians in the moment, or serve as "a subtle yet meaningful analogy for the creative process — a literal house where ideas can grow and evolve organically" (quoth the liner notes)?
• And just how much can you cram into a space anyway, as I got to experience at my now-favorite hotel?

And I think the answer is yes, all of the above: art can be created and experienced and shared in many ways at the same time, given sufficiently versatile and resourceful spaces and artists.

We are versatile, we are (at least somewhat) resourceful, and we want to create a space that matches that, both for our own creative dreams as well as those of others.

And just maybe, maybe that means it's okay that I still can't decide, and I still don't have to grow up.

The program

We are looking to create a primary space that is about 60' by 40' with 15' ceilings, a lighting grid, sufficient acoustic isolation and treatment to be respectful of our neighbors (for performances) and actors (for filming), and sufficient heating and cooling to support an audience of around 250.

We're envisioning supporting spaces that include a woodshop (for scenery construction), a kitchenette (for staff meals), and a production/post-production space (for editing, video/podcast recordings, etc.). A gallery space will wrap around a central core of supporting spaces to connect our street-facing presence to the primary space in the back.

The canvas

We acquired this building at the end of July, partway through a remodel to bring the space up to seismic and energy codes. There's already plenty of work to do under the existing building permit and we'll be journaling that as well as the greater process.

The process

We're currently preparing a proposal for a revision to the existing building permit. Our design team includes two architects, a designer, a structural engineer (+team), a mechanical engineer (+team), an acoustics engineer (+team), and a shop drawing draftsperson. We've consulted with an electrician, a plumber, and fire prevention specialists. With all that (or despite all that?), we're aiming to submit a permit revision by the end of January 2026.

The risks

The permit revision might be approved within two weeks, or it could be rejected and turned into a new permit application which could take six months or more.

The city might require a parking study (despite there being no parking at any surrounding business anyway) which could take a year.

Or it could be approved within two weeks! Who knows. It's an adventure.

The adventure

I've become licensed, bonded, and insured as a General Contractor (license# GRUMPS*751NN) so I can not only formally do this work (other than electrical/plumbing/etc.) but also get access to building materials from suppliers I would otherwise not be able to buy from. The savings on my first lumber order have already more than paid for the cost of that license.

I'm continuing the framing work started by the previous owner to shore up the exterior walls for seismic safety, when I'm actually able to do the work and am not on one of a million side quests like running the accounting for all the little things that need to be paid for, sourcing even more things of all sizes, or, you know, working the day job that pays for this.

Stick around and watch us flail radiate our way toward a new venue for artistic endeavors in Seattle that is not quite like anything else here today, and is unlikely to ever make up its mind as to what it really is (though it is most definitely an adventure).

At least we have a roll-up door large enough to fit a single-axle delivery truck and/or my grip truck...