It was a bit like the end of The Wizard of Oz, where all the familiar cast of characters, rather, artists, returned home for one last time.
For two years, artist Austin Thomas, the Judy Garland of Flushing Avenue, has brought neighborhood artists into her East Williamsburg sliver gallery, Pocket Utopia (1037 Flushing Avenue), for group shows, salons, and concerts that attracted everyone from Village Voice arts critics to the Spanish−speaking pool hall owners working down on the same block.
That came to an end July 16, when the gallery hosted a closing reception.
There was Chris Graves, who opened his own eponymous gallery space in DUMBO. And Brece Honeycutt, whose hand−knit fabric pieces capture the imagination, speaking with Elissa Levy, who playfully edits photos like the iconic Zidane headbutt in the World Cup. And collage artist Kevin Regan, who favors blown up black−and white head shots of the late former President Ronald Reagan.
“I feel it was a forum for experimentation,” said Thomas. “For me, people were appreciative for the opportunity to experiment. It wasn’t just about a gallery for showing work. There was a give and take and it was an all−around kind of effort.”
On the next day after the closing party, Thomas had fled Brooklyn for a summer−long road trip she labeled a “radical sabbatical.”
After her break, she will be working in her studio for six months and collaborating with a nearby gallery, Norte Maar (83 Wyckoff Avenue), on a two week summer arts program on a retreat in upstate New York in July 2010. Thomas promises kyacking, tennis, drawing, knitting, and other activities for artists to collaborate on.
“People will be teaching and learning and everybody will be participating,” said Thomas. “We’re expanding the salons that happened at Pocket Utopia.”
Thomas’s plan all along was to close the space in the building, which her husband, after two years. A bar and restaurant are rumored to move in within six months, although none of the plans have been confirmed.
One of the highlights of the past few years that people mentioned were art openings that ended with concerts by performance artist Andrew Hurst, who once performed John Lee Hooker songs at a wake for his pet tarantula earlier this year. Hundreds crowded the tiny gallery space, spilling out onto Flushing Avenue, as Hurst tied black balloons to the carcass of his beloved deceased pet.
“Andrew grew in that forum. We all grew. Grant, my son, grew five inches. That’s what experimentation is about. We made the most of it,” said Thomas.
The event was more about looking back on the legacy of the gallery. Many artists and art enthusiasts told this paper that the gallery felt like home and enjoyed the collaborative, experimental nature of the space.
Ben Godward, a Williamsburg−based artist who helped build a working keg sculpture for the gallery’s Bushwick Open Studios opening, expressed sadness over the closing but ultimately felt good about the show.
“I feel bad that it’s the last show but all good things must come to an end,” said Godward.
Thomas would agreed, that it was the artists, even more than the art, that made her gallery the neighborhood destination that it became.