OPINION: Love for An U.G.L.Y. City

By Joshua D. Botvin

The City’s Transformation
New Bedford stands in the midst of an identity transformation. Far from its legacy as the most prominent whaling port in the world, the city is now looking to re-brand itself as an emerging art community.

Long associated with its history as a global fishing port, New Bedford is scarred by a troubled past and bad reputation. However, those involved in the art community are spearheading its cultural resurgence and new personality.

Some, like New Bedford Open Studios director Karen Snyder, believe the city has already begun to move in the right direction. “It used to have such a horrible reputation. For years every time you would say ‘New Bedford’ they would bring up the Big Dan rape, but the arts have really helped.”

Snyder, a former art teacher and current activist for the arts, has been directly involved in this quest for cultural revival for over ten years and is currently involved in advocating for the survival of the city’s artists. “I would like to meet with the mayor and people in other organizations to see if the city could support artists, because supporting art organizations isn’t the same as supporting artists.”

Artist support, as opposed to support for the arts generally, comes in a variety of ways, from advertising the artistic appeals of the area to allowing for the tax-free purchase of art.

According to Snyder, the latter is crucial. “You have these people who are living at or below the poverty level and are getting asked multiple times a year to donate to charity. And the way that the tax law is, the artist can’t even write it off as a donation. It is just worth zero. If they gave it to somebody else and they donated it, then they could write it off. And I don’t think a lot of people are aware of that.”

Another issue plaguing local artists is the presumption that they will work for free, in exchange for the promise of “exposure,” which does little to pay the bills. “People don’t expect musicians to come and play for free,” explains Synder.

She also advocates for exposing children to art. “Because of budget cuts they have had little exposure to art during their education…AHA and what NBOS does helps to change that.”

This altruistic outlook has not only become commonplace to artists in the area, but the very staple for their survival.

The Model Gallery
Gallery X, a gutted and refurbished church turned makeshift gallery, has become a microcosm for all art in the area. Now approaching its 25th year in operation, it is an example of what artists must do to make a cultural impact.

Chuck Hauck, the founder of Gallery X, and John Nieman, one of the last of the original members, discussed their origin and insistence on originality. “In the 1990s the only other arts organization was the Bierstadt Society, which were weekend painters who would do pretty little seascapes. And I can respect that, but we were right out of college and more looking to push the envelope,” recounts Nieman.

“They didn’t even have wine at their openings,” added Hauck with a chuckle.

The pair, a couple of freethinking self-described hippies, were reviving a beat culture long left behind. They looked to start the gallery with little more than a love of art and a positive outlook.

But visions aside, their operation would have never taken off without the support of their community. “We both had a mutual circle of friends who were still in the area,” explains Nieman. “Artists that were looking for anywhere to show their work, a place where you could meet other artists.”

In 1994, when rising rent forced them to move from their original location on Spring Street to the iconic church they now call home, it was a move that, according to Hauck and Nieman, would not have been possible without continued support from the community. A generous, art-loving reverend rented the church to them at an affordable rate, and the understatedly titled Tuesday Night Warriors worked round the clock to get the gallery up and running as quickly as possible.

Turquoise walls, lines of pews and the pipe organ all had to go. “We would get together, get a case of beer and just roll walls or whatever project needed to be done,” recounts Hauck. “We owe a lot to our volunteers and our benefactors,” says Nieman.

“It’s not necessarily the members who help, but the friends,” adds Hauck, “Those with different skills who always come together.”

“It seemed like whenever we would have a specific project like the steeple or renovating the basement or making the place handicap accessible,” Nieman describes, “that was when our friends who were business owners would pull out the checkbook.”

This was not the only stroke of good luck they received. When they first started, they relied on the policy of allowing a new curator to install every show. This, unfortunately, hindered any sense of continuity, and often left phones unanswered and messages unreturned. Then they applied for, and received a grant from the Island Foundation, which allowed them to hire a full time director for the gallery. That changed everything. As Nieman puts it, “There were many cracks for things to fall through…a thousand ways for things to go wrong, and as soon as we had that grant, things really tightened up. We had consistency.”

This consistency came at just the right time. New galleries were sprouting up throughout the area, bringing not only competition but a stronger sense of community and, more importantly, more reasons to visit.

“We were excited, because we were the first,” says Hauck. “So many people said it would never work in New Bedford…but we didn’t know any better and we didn’t care, we were having fun.”

However much fun they were having, it was often overshadowed by the clear fact that they lacked funds. Repeatedly battling to make rent and always seeming to fall behind on upkeep, “It’s just been a constant fundraiser,” laments Hauck.

The most recent challenge is the leaking roof. “We’ve got a grant that we’re working on now,” explains Hauck. “It’s a match grant to fix the roof…if we can raise seven thousand we’d get fourteen. That would fix the roof, the steeple and after that we’re looking to get solar panels…hopefully we can have solar panels and pay off our mortgage at the same time…that’s a dream. But then we’ll have to raise money for something else.”

Despite this, they have never stopped their efforts to bring the most innovative and progressive art to the community. Accepting all newcomers and basing their business on inclusion, they are hoping to continue influencing their city.

An U.G.L.Y. Reality
One gallery in particular, U.G.L.Y. Gallery, seemed to be drawing inspiration from the progressive and inclusive nature of Gallery X. For the last four years, it was a center of local and foreign urban street artists, a group known for its edgy and dynamic style marked by graffiti, sticker art, and defiant interpretations of popular culture.

Owners Jeremiah Hernandez and David Guadalupe Jr. looked to create their own subculture of artists within the local community, in effect recreating what Gallery X was able to do 25 years ago.

Unfortunately, a lack of economic support forced the gallery to shut down. But, on its last night, at an event titled “Forever U.G.L.Y. Thank You New Bedford,” well-wishers crammed the gallery. On the walls hung the leftover paintings and sketches, drawings and graffiti that had never sold like Sinatra’s mug shot, Bart Simpson’s brain, and the iconic “Missing” Milk Carton, each more brilliant and colorful than the last. The DJ spun, beers were drunk, and tee shirts and prints sold like mad–at only ten bucks a piece, they were the only items any guest could afford–but no one wanted to leave without claiming at least one last memento.

The culmination of these four years may have been nothing more than a short flicker in the life of the city, but for these few hours U.G.L.Y. Gallery existed just as it had always been envisioned, enriching the lives of those involved.

“What I like about the U.G.L.Y. Gallery is that they really reminded me of what Gallery X was in the early years,” says Nieman.

Much in the same tradition, “We started the gallery with $200,” says Hernandez. “We have never taken a penny of public funding.”

Despite the similarities however, the U.G.L.Y. Gallery just did not seem to have the same luck as Gallery X. “We’ve never really been successful,” explains Hernandez, “We just always make it seem that way and wear smiles even though [things] look[ed] ugly. The business and where it is and the economic climate that we’re in just doesn’t allow us to execute what we need to do to be a successful commercial gallery, so closing was our best option.”

Drawing on a much younger style and thus customer base, the two seemed to be without the financial support of the community. When asked about public funding, Hernandez replied, “We were never in a position to access it. They dog and pony us and tell us how important we are. But every chance they had to tell us, ‘sorry we can’t help,’ they did.”

Despite this, Hernandez is not bitter. Although the decision to close was far from joyful, he still remains hopeful for the future. “It’s definitely not terrible. We had a four-year run that was amazing. We look forward to whatever the next opportunity is. But all good things come to an end. Maybe the city will support the next U.G.L.Y. Gallery that comes around, although it won’t be us.”

That is exactly what the future of New Bedford’s art scene will rely upon. The artists who put themselves out there for the public can only do so much. Without a strong sense of support from the community in the form of buying art from local artists, more galleries will go the way of U.G.L.Y.

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