Studio triangle: from all-girl power trio to all-women business partnership, the lesbian founders of Chicago's Materville Studios keep upping the tempo. (music).

It all started at an open-mike night when college pals Kathryn Jacobson and Martie Marro bumped into Lisa Hernandez. "We just jelled immediately," recalls Jacobson. The three out musicians formed Stewed Tomatoes, an "all-girl power-pop trio," and soon enough they were playing small venues and festivals across the country. Then, in the midst of making a record, the band transformed artistic frustration into a business venture: They launched a multimedia production house and recording studio in downtown Chicago.

Feeling stifled by making music in a sterile studio environment while the clock ticked away expensive hours, the Tomatoes decided to buy their own equipment. They set up a musician friendly spot, and Materville Studios was born.

"We wanted to create a place where nobody has to feel that `Oh, my God--it just cost me $600 to tune up' panic," says Jacobson, who serves as the group's nominal spokeswoman. The studio's name evolved from band banter, she says: "We called each other 'mater, as in `tomater'--like `Catch you later, `mater.'"

Each member of the team plays a different role, Jacobson continues. "Martie is the total computer genius, and Lisa is this amazing get-up-and-go project person." And Jacobson herself? "I look pretty," she laughs. "Nah, I'm really good at going out and meeting people and getting new clients. A lot of clients we're dealing with are excited to find women in the industry who can do the things we do."

The tiny business built gradually until 1998, when a sudden infusion of cash changed everything. Years earlier, the women had signed on with MP3.com, a digital music company, earning stock options in exchange for spreading the word about the company at their shows. When MP3.com went public, the IPO netted the trio six figures. They poured the money into revamping the studio with everything from pre-amps to Pro Tools music software. Ties with MP3.com helped them connect with other artists and landed them a deal with Francis Ford Coppola to feature one of their songs on his sci-fi series First Wave.

The business has really taken off over the past two years, says Jacobson. Ever the frugal entrepreneurs, the Tomatoes began developing and hosting Web sites out of frustration over the high cost of maintaining their band site. "We were tired of the way the big corporate world treats small businesses," says Jacobson.

With all their various projects, including producing Windy City Radio on Chicago's WCKG, the musicians only occasionally have lime to play shows. "We don't get much sleep," Jacobson explains. But that doesn't stop them from doing more. "Recently, we've been dipping our little tomato hands into video," she confides. Since October the three have been working on a pilot for Showtime's planned gay network: a talk show called Dance Floor Battle Scars. Marro says, "We know for sure it's a go. We're just not sure when."

One thing's certain, says Jacobson: After almost a decade of fine-tuning, the Tomatoes plan to keep working together. "People say three people is a bad idea, but we meld so well together. They talk about triangles. The way I see it, the three points are the base. It keeps us strong."

DuLong has written for Newsweek International and Rolling Stone.