Reykjavík Grapevine - 05.06.2015, Blaðsíða 26

INTER
VIEW
TVEIR HRAFNAR listhús, Art Gallery
Baldursgata 12 101 Reykjavík (at the corner of Baldursgata and Nönnugata, facing Þrír Frakkar Restaurant)
Phone: +354 552 8822 +354 863 6860 +354 863 6885 art@tveirhrafnar.is www.tveirhrafnar.is
Opening hours: Thu-Fri 12pm - 5pm, Sat 1pm - 4pm and by appointment +354 863 6860
TVEIR HRAFNAR
listhús, Art Gallery
offers a range of artwork by
contemporary Icelandic artists
represented by the gallery,
selected works by acclaimed
artists and past Icelandic
masters.
Guðbjörg Lind Jónsdóttir
Hallgrímur Helgason
Húbert Nói Jóhannesson
Jón Óskar
Óli G. Jóhannsson
Steinunn Þórarinsdóttir
Also works by:
Hadda Fjóla Reykdal
Hulda Hákon
Sara Oskarsson
Nína Tryggvadóttir
Kristján Davíðsson
- among others
HULDA HÁKON
14 MAY - 20 JUNE 2015
26 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 7— 2015BAR GUIDE
Jón is frequently spotted at both es-
tablishments, talking to bands, friends,
or regulars, serving beer to patrons,
or running around taking care of the
many tasks necessary to keep the two
hotspots going. Despite working long
hours, at least twelve to fifteen each
day by his count, Jón never seems up-
set or unfriendly. Tired, yes, but always
in good spirits, much like he was when
we met at Húrra last Thursday to chat
about running the bars.
The accident
Jón’s foray into the bar business
was essentially an accident. In 2013,
he and his business partner Baldvin
Kristinsson were looking for a place on
Laugavegur to open their own restau-
rant. When they heard the spot where
Litla Gula Hænan was available, they
immediately jumped on the opportunity.
“We decided to run it as a bar while we
were in the process of designing the
restaurant,” he explained, “but then
two months later it was going so well
that we just kept it running like that. We
figured we’d open our restaurant some
other time.”
Bravó is a very relaxed joint—small,
with comfortable seats, a simple bar,
and music that doesn’t get too loud to
chat over. Jón said the design came to-
gether on its own, lacking any pretence.
“Maybe that’s why it’s gone so well, be-
cause we’re not trying to be something
we’re not,” he said.
Húrra, however, was a completely
different beast. When Jón first heard
that Harlem was being sold, he said
he wasn’t the least bit interested, but
when he saw the place for himself, he
knew he had to get it. He’s a big fan of
concerts, and says he could foresee it
being exactly the kind of place the city
needed, even though so many others
had tried and failed in that very same
spot.
The planned one
“We put a lot of effort into designing the
place and spent a lot of money on get-
ting a good sound system,” he said. Soon
enough, Húrra began drawing large
crowds and bands of all genres were lin-
ing up to play.
Before Húrra opened, Jón said that
he and Baldvin made all of these rules
about how it should be run. He said his
intention wasn’t to profit from concerts
per say, but to deliver quality shows. By
his admission, the place takes a 20-25%
cut of ticket admissions and the rest
goes to the performers, even on the days
when ticket sales don’t end up covering
costs.
They also decided that Húrra would
always provide their own sound techni-
cian and have a solid drum set and amps
for the bands. “We also always have cold
beers in the back for the musicians,” he
said. “I feel like it’s an honour to work
with these people that are helping me
make the place work. There’s no magic
to attracting them, it’s about being re-
spectful to people. You reap what you
sow.”
In addition to regular events, includ-
ing four live shows per week and a free
Jazz night on Mondays, Jón makes sure
to schedule a DJ after each concert to
give patrons a reason to stay for a few
more drinks. “There’s a
trick to it,” he said, “you
can’t make people wait
too long from when the
band finishes and the
DJ starts their show,
otherwise you’ll lose
your customers.”
What made these
ventures possible, Jón
said, was his decision
to give up drinking two
years ago. “I had known for a while that
drinking doesn’t suit me,” he said, “and I
was tired of being mentally hung over. I
have to answer at least 40 phone calls a
day, and if I was also hungover, I couldn’t
do it. It’s a blessing to be rewarded each
and every day for not drinking.” It has,
however, created plenty of funny situ-
ations, where he’s had to recommend
drinks he’s never tried while working at
the bar.
The adopted one
Right from the start, Jón has known that
foreigners and tourists are a big part
of both Bravó and Húrra’s clientele. He
celebrates their arrival, and said they’ve
helped turned things around in Iceland
after the crash, but he’s also concerned
about what will happen if hotels take
over downtown Reykjavík. As things
stand, some venues already can’t hold
late concerts because
of noise complaints from
hotels, and there are
fewer and fewer loca-
tions available due to
redevelopment.
But for now, Jón
will just keep doing
what he’s doing. Asked
why so many others
had failed where he
and Baldvin made it, he
placed the blame on red tape rather than
a curse. “Rent and alcohol licences are
expensive, and there’s very little mark-
up on beers, making it hard to profit.”
Yet, he didn’t complain, saying that low
prices are good for both customers and
healthy competition.
As for his restaurant dream, it’s still
on Jón’s agenda, but he hasn’t really got-
ten far with that idea. “I’ve been cooking
a lot of fish lately, so maybe a seafood
restaurant would be fun,” he said, before
assuring me it wouldn’t continue Bravó
and Húrra’s naming tradition and be
called Jibbý or something like that.
After half an hour, I got the feeling
that Jón already had to be somewhere
else. Sure enough, soon after I thanked
him for his time, he was already drop-
ping his booking manager off some-
where, and continuing his long work-
ing day. I have no doubt I’ll run into him
again before long.
Given how many Icelanders still profess to believing in
elves, calling us superstitious may not be unwarranted,
but one man has shown himself to be anything but that.
In the past two years, Jón Mýrdal Harðarson has opened
two bars, Bravó and Húrra, in spots that some may have
thought cursed, as between the two of them those lo-
cations have housed half a dozen establishments in
the past decade. Where Bravó sits, there was Litla Gula
Hænan, Barinn, and the long-lived Bar 22, and before
Húrra, there was Harlem, Volta, Þýski Barinn and Bakkus.
Jón says he didn’t really think about this the time, which
is just as good, as the two are among the most popular
bars in Reykjavík today.
Photo
Ciaran Daly
Words
Gabríel Benjamin
Occupying
Cursed Corners
“I feel like it’s an
honour to work with
these people that are
helping me make the
place work. There’s
no magic to attract-
ing them, it’s about
being respectful to
people. You reap
what you sow.”