3) The Dallas Art Institute was established in 1926 by local artists Kathryn Hail and Olin Travis. It was originally located in downtown Dallas at 1215 1/2 Main Street before moving to the grounds of the Civic Federation at 2419 Maple Avenue in 1931. By 1935, the institute required more space and moved into a larger location at 2503 McKinney Avenue. In 1938 it moved into the DMFA, where it remained until 1941, when the board of trustees decided to establish an official Museum School. Its final location was back in the downtown Dallas area at 1912 1/2 Main Street. The school closed not long after this final move, in 1945. The Dallas Art Institute was the first school in Dallas that provided art instruction in several fields: painting, drawing, sculpture, commercial art, and fashion drawing. It employed some of Texas’ best-known artists, including future DMFA director Jerry Bywaters, Alexandre Hogue, William Lester, Everett Spruce, Florence McClung, and Lloyd Goff. See Kendall Curlee, "Dallas Art Institute," in Texas State Historical Association, Handbook of Texas Online (viewed on April 8, 2013).

4) Richard Foster Howard was Museum director from 1936 to 1942. Artist professors included Otis M. Dozier, Olin Travis, Everett Spruce, Coreen M. Spellman, Evaline C. Sellors, Octavio Medellin, Roger Winter, and David McManaway. Many Texas artists recall their studies at the Museum School. It closed in 1970 under director Merrill Rueppel, who cited the emergence of university art departments in the area as serving the need it had filled. For a history of the Dallas Art Institute and the DMFA Art School, see Jerry Bywaters, Seventy-Five Years of Art in Dallas: The History of the Dallas Art Association and the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts (Dallas: Dallas Museum of Fine Arts, 1978). See also Kendall Curlee, “Dallas Art Institute,” in Texas State Historical Association, Handbook of Texas Online, (viewed on April 8, 2013); Harry S. Parker III, "Dallas Museum of Art," in Texas State Historical Association, Handbook of Texas Online (viewed on April 8, 2013).

6) On view at the DMFA April 6–27, 1952, Some Businessmen Collect Contemporary Art (SBCCA) was organized with the help of Stanley Marcus, president and later chairman of Neiman Marcus and a member of the Dallas Art Association board. In an attempt to educate a conservative Dallas audience about international contemporary art, the exhibition brought together works from the collections of prominent business leaders like Joseph Pulitzer Jr., Henry Dreyfus, and Walter P. Paepcke. Staged at a time when modern and contemporary art were associated with communism, the exhibition was considered controversial. Anticommunism was sweeping the country, as Sen. Joseph McCarthy threatened to censor the arts and blacklist artists and entertainers. With its extreme conservatism, Dallas was a hotbed of anticommunist sentiment. SBCCA was a success in terms of attendance and reviews, but it did nothing to educate Dallas about modern and contemporary art and their relation to communism. In 1955, the Museum again faced the pressures of its conservative public when The Family of Man was censored for nudity. In 1956, Sport in Art provoked the biggest uprising the Museum had ever experienced. The board of trustees was divided, and the most liberal-minded left to form the Dallas Society for Contemporary Arts in 1956. See Dallas Museum of Fine Arts, Some Businessmen Collect Contemporary Art: An Exhibition of Contemporary Paintings by American and European Artists from Private Collections of American Professional and Business Men (Dallas: 1952), University of North Texas Libraries, Portal to Texas History (viewed on May 9, 2013).

7) The Dallas Cowboys played in the Cotton Bowl stadium in Fair Park from their first season in 1960 until 1971, when the franchise moved to Texas Stadium in Irving. The Assemblage was formed in 1970 amid the DMFA administration’s growing concern that too few young Dallasites were involved in the arts. Likely a means to cultivate future major benefactors, the group had a loose affiliation with the DMFA but its own charter, bylaws, and board. Activities planned by The Assemblage included tours of important local private collections, studio tours with local artists, and guest speakers including museum professionals like Robert Murdock, the DMFA’s curator of contemporary art, and artists like Claes Oldenburg. At the height of the group’s activity it had about 400 members, mostly married couples in their 20s and early 30s. The Assemblage continued with regular meetings through the mid-1980s but distanced itself from the Museum during the tenure of director Harry S. Parker III (1974–1987), as it seemed redundant with the development of new membership levels like the Junior Associates. See the Dallas Museum of Art Archives for more information on The Assemblage, including minutes of the July 15, 1970, meeting, which describes typical activities.

11) Arthello Beck (1941–2004) was a Dallas native who attended Lincoln High School, where he received his only formal art training. As a painter, his subjects included children, religion, and human interaction, and he is best known for his series from the 1960s dealing with the American civil rights movement. Along with his involvement in the Association of Advancing Artists and Writers, Inc., Beck was a member of the Southwest Black Artists Guild (active in the 1970s and 1980s) with other Dallas artists Frank Frazier, James Dunn, and Carl Sidel. After the Fair Park Gallery of Fine Art closed in the mid-1970s, Beck relocated his studio to the Oak Cliff neighborhood of Dallas. The Arthello Beck Gallery opened in 1974, operating out of Beck’s studio space at 2803 Ramsey Avenue. For the next two decades, the gallery became the centerpiece for African-American artists in Dallas. In 2007, the South Dallas Cultural Center honored Beck by establishing gallery space in his name.

13) AAAW members were primarily visual artists based in Dallas, and many were self-taught painters. Founder and president Bobby D. Norman was a Dallas native and self-taught artist. In interviews, Norman has described his work as in the style of “mystical symbolism” (John Nelville, “Sunday’s Exhibits Offer Varied Fare,” Dallas Morning News, February 18, 1968, 4). He was actively involved in political and civil rights organizations like the Greater Dallas Community Relations Council and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. See Doug Domeler, “Variety Marks Probe Committee,” Dallas Morning News, October 28, 1972, A17; Roy Hamric, “BCJLO Leader Urges Majority to Speak Out,” Dallas Morning News, May 31, 1971, A8.

Taylor Gurley was a portrait painter, also based in Dallas, who remained active in the AAAW and continued to exhibit his work at the Arthello Beck Gallery in Oak Cliff. Little information can be found on remaining members Louis Ray Potts, James Gray, and Elihue Smith, but Potts and Gray continued to exhibit their work at the Arthello Beck Gallery.

24) Venezuelan artist Alberto Collie (b. 1939) attended Harvard University, where he developed technology for what became his signature magnetic floating sculptures. In the early 1960s, his work was seen by Dallas artist and gallerist Chapman Kelley, who recruited Collie to Dallas to show at his Atelier Chapman Kelley. Collie’s sculptures combined art and technology—floating anthropomorphic objects over magnetic bases, described by art critics as Brancusi taking flight. While in Dallas, Collie was appointed director of the short-lived Experimental Contemporary Art Program at the Northwood Institute in Cedar Hill, where he furthered his interests in blending art with technology, working with scientists and engineers from the Dallas-based Texas Instruments. Collie currently lives and works in Venezuela.

37) Jim Roche (b. 1943, Marianna, Florida) earned his MFA from the University of Dallas (UD), along with George Green and Jack Mims, fellow members of the Oak Cliff Four (an artists’ collective active in the Oak Cliff neighborhood from 1969 to 1974 that also included Robert Wade). While at UD, Mims considered himself a ceramicist, producing what he called his “Mama Plants,” phallic-shaped, brightly painted ceramic sculptures that were typically topped with clusters of ceramic female breasts. After leaving UD and without access to a free kiln, Roche reinvented his artistic practice in more conceptual work. His house in Oak Cliff became his largest work, with drawings all over the floors and walls. In 1973, Roche accepted a teaching position at Florida State University in Tallahassee, but he continued to show his work with Delahunty Gallery in Dallas for several years. After 40 years, Roche has retired from teaching, but he continues his conceptually based art practice.

40) David McManaway (1927–2010) was born in Chicago, received his degree from the University of Arkansas, and in 1959 arrived in Dallas, where he remained for the rest of his career. McManaway’s early work could be categorized as painting and was primarily two-dimensional. Gradually, he shifted to three-dimensional assemblages of found objects, which he called Jomos. Like the creators of wunderkammer, or cabinets of curiosities, McManaway saw the beauty in everyday objects and materials frequently mistaken for trash. He worked as a preparator at the short-lived Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts (1956–1963) and exhibited his work at galleries around Dallas, notably Atelier Chapman Kelley, Delahunty Gallery, and Pillsbury Peters Gallery. He has had exhibitions at the DMFA, the DMA, the Contemporary Arts Museum Houston, and the Menil Collection of Houston.

Uptown: The Original Gallery District

The neighborhood now known as Uptown has gone by different names over the years. Bordered by the Dallas North Tollway to the west, Woodall Rodgers Freeway to the south, and Central Expressway to the east, Uptown was once defined by the streets that cross its interior: Maple, Oak Lawn, Cedar Springs, and Fairmount. The area came into its own in the late 1950s and 1960s, when it was likened to New York’s Greenwich Village.1 A group of up-and-coming artists— assemblagists David McManaway and Roy Fridge, sculptor Herb Rogalla, and painters Roger Winter and Bill Komodore—moved into the affordable bungalows that lined the streets of Oak Lawn and became loosely identified as the Oak Lawn Gang. These artists created a close-knit community, hosting “moonshine” parties where it was not unusual for guests to come in costume and dance to music by Fridge on tub bass and Winter on guitar. Winter recalls those gatherings:

One spring night in 1963, David [McManaway] called me from the Standup Bar and asked me to bring my guitar there. He said that a large group from the DMCA membership and staff had dropped by for a beer and that Roy [Fridge] had his tub bass and he had his banjo. When I got there, the group had literally taken over the place. I got into the mood of it, and we played for several hours. A drunk redneck at the bar danced by himself right through to the end. When we left, this guy shook my hand and said I “had it.” I consider this the best and purest compliment I have ever received.2

Inexpensive housing was not the only appeal. The city’s earliest galleries and art spaces also opened in the neighborhood and employed many of the artists who lived nearby. Atelier Chapman Kelley,3 C. Troup Gallery,4 Nye Galleries,5 and Cushing Galleries6 were all established by the 1960s, and Uptown gained its first art museum when the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts (DMCA) moved to Turtle Creek in 1959.

A Vibrant but Short-Lived Contemporary Art Museum

The Dallas Society for Contemporary Arts (DSCA) was established in 1956 by a group of artists, architects, theater directors, photographers, and critics led by the sculptor Heri Bert Bartscht.7 The DSCA organized exhibitions at the Courtyard Theater off Maple Avenue in Uptown until it opened a permanent location at the Preston Shopping Center in North Dallas in November 1957, officially becoming the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts.8 In its new space, the museum held several important exhibitions organized by board members. The inaugural exhibition, Abstract by Choice, featured work by Stuart Davis, Max Weber, Marsden Hartley, and Piet Mondrian on loan from major New York galleries and museums, including the Downtown Gallery, the Sidney Janis Gallery, and the Museum of Modern Art.9 Other notable exhibitions included Action Painting, with work by Elaine de Kooning, Willem de Kooning, Richard Diebenkorn, Jackson Pollock, and Franz Kline,10 and Laughter in Art, organized by board member Betty Blake, featuring Joseph Cornell, Dallas artist Roy Fridge, Jasper Johns, Houston artist Jim Love, Robert Rauschenberg, and Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec.11

Recognizing the need for a more cohesive and ambitious exhibition program and an advisor on acquisitions, the DMCA board began the search for a director while also looking for a new home for the expanding museum. By late 1959, art historian and museum administrator Douglas MacAgy was named director,12 and the museum moved to the former Slick Airways building at 3415 Cedar Springs Road in Uptown.13 MacAgy oversaw a rigorous exhibition schedule, which included important shows like Signposts of Twentieth Century Art, curated by art historian, critic, and art dealer Katharine Kuh of Chicago;14 Contemporary Japanese Painting and Sculpture;15 the first retrospective exhibition in North America of René Magritte, in collaboration with the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston;16 The Art of Assemblage;17 and 1961.18

The exhibition 1961 generated controversy in the Dallas–Fort Worth art communities over two commissioned works by the contemporary sculptor Claes Oldenburg. For Store, which seemed to be the more traditional of the two, the artist transported his New York installation of mundane objects made of plaster to a gallery at the DMCA and reinstalled them to resemble a storefront (Fig. 1). The work is now considered a prime example of pop art, which elevates the everyday to the status of art object. But local reactions at the time ranged from minor discomfort to a full-blown visceral reaction by Fort Worth artist Bror Utter, who took a bite out of a plaster slice of pie at the opening. Roger Winter describes the incident:

Claes had a slice of like a meringue pie. I think something like a lemon pie, coconut pie made of plaster and enamel and probably burlap and chicken wire as the structure of it, and it was sitting on a little saucer on a chair that he’d borrowed from David and Norma McManaway, a blue chair—just an old-timey kitchen chair—and a painter from Fort Worth, . . . Bror Utter, came with a friend of his, Sam Cantey, who was, I think, president of one of the better banks in Fort Worth. And Bror, I think, got a little drunk and he was so outraged by all of this [Oldenburg’s installation] that he picked the piece of pie up off the chair and bit a piece out of it. . . . That seems always to me to be a remarkable reaction to art.19

Oldenburg’s other commissioned work for 1961 was perhaps the most infamous event at the DMCA: the first of the artist’s “happenings” outside of New York City and the first commissioned by a museum. Titled Injun, it was performed on the DMCA grounds on two evenings (Fig. 2). With his wife Pat, DMCA staff, and painting students from the University of Texas at Arlington, the artist took over an abandoned house and guided visitors through various room installations to the sounds of Native American drums and chants. In the climax of the performance, Oldenburg dragged his wife’s limp body onto the roof of a shed behind the house and chopped a tornado-like object made of papier-mâché. Winter has these memories of the happening:

Joe Hobbs is the painter who taught at Arlington State [now the University of Texas at Arlington] at that time. . . . And he and a group of his painting students all were wrestling around on the floor. Hal Pauley was in the room with some newspapers playing, or pretending to play, a violin. There were just rooms in this house, and Claes was dressed up like an Indian in . . . some kind of savage-looking costume made out of shredded papers. He was dancing and moving around. . . . To view it we held on to a rope and sort of moved in through the rooms in the building that belong to the DMCA, moved in a certain direction. And I heard someone say behind us, “Boy, the membership in the DMFA is going to skyrocket tomorrow! . . .” Because it was so different for Dallas at that time.20

MacAgy earned great respect and admiration from local artists—some of whom worked on the museum staff—because he included them in major exhibitions alongside artists with national recognition. David McManaway and Jim Love were part of the Dallas showing of the traveling exhibition The Art of Assemblage, while Roy Fridge designed exhibition catalogues for 1961 and The Art that Broke the Looking Glass and exhibited his own work in 1961. Many artists were disappointed when the DMCA merged with the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts in 1963, fearful that the loss of their powerful and loyal ally in the highest ranks of the museum community would mean a return to the less-visible status quo, with fewer opportunities to show their work. Winter recalls his fondness for MacAgy and the environment surrounding the DMCA:

Douglas was the nucleus, the star, the center. . . . And I think he generated quite a bit of it [energy], but then we were some interesting characters there and this was the time when we lived in what I’d call an “exotic poverty.” None of us had any particular money, but we worked and we were very excited about our work and there was a lot of interchange. I especially was influenced by . . . David McManaway, but also Roy Fridge. Jim Love lived in Houston, but he flew up to, ironically, Love Field, to Dallas.21

In addition to major exhibitions and acquisitions—like Henry Matisse’s Ivy in Flower, 1953 (Fig. 3), Paul Gauguin’s Under the Pandanus (I Raro te Oviri), 1891 (Fig. 4), and Francis Bacon’s Walking Figure, 1959–1960 (Fig. 5)—the DMCA offered community programs such as the Children’s House, directed by Paul Rogers Harris with Peggy Wilson (Fig. 6), and a weekly film series organized by board members Major and Downing Thomas. After the merger, Harris moved his children’s art program to the Little Red School House at KERA-TV Channel 13, the local public television station, where he continued to offer instruction in painting and graphic arts.

The DMCA’s move to Uptown stimulated the district’s already-burgeoning arts activity. Through his contacts at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, local artist and gallery owner Chapman Kelley brought in East Coast artists for exhibitions at his Atelier. Eventually, his roster included new-to-Dallas artists Jeanne and Arthur Koch and arts and technology whiz Alberto Collie, who dazzled Dallas audiences with his floating sculptures.22

Mary Nye’s Nye Galleries focused heavily on artists who taught at East Texas State University, as well as emerging and established regional artists like Dallas sculptor Heri Bert Bartscht, Texas painter Cecil Casebier, and local painters DeForrest Judd and Otis Dozier (Fig. 7). Local painter Bill Komodore once commented that the Nye Galleries’ walls were covered in burlap and that Mary Nye herself “was like a New York dealer, in that she would never bother to look at your work (Fig. 8).”23 Despite this lighthearted criticism, Nye was seen as a serious gallerist, putting on exhibitions and representing artists for the next two decades.

A Gallery District Emerges

By the 1970s, the success of several galleries had turned Uptown into a true gallery district. While do-it-yourself spaces were the norm in other active parts of town, like South Dallas, the Uptown galleries had a more polished, commercial presence. Their approaches varied. Some, like Janie C. Lee Gallery, chose to bring the national art scene to Dallas. Others, including Smither Gallery, exhibited both national and local artists. Still others, like Delahunty Gallery, put Dallas artists on a national stage. The Uptown neighborhood was also home to Dallas’ first photography galleries: Afterimage, established in 1971 in the Quadrangle by Ben Breard, and the Allen Street Gallery, a do-it-yourself space opened in 1975 on Allen Street that developed into a recognized commercial gallery.

Like Allen Street Gallery, the Dallas Women’s Co-op started as a cooperative gallery space, with its members staffing the gallery and paying dues in exchange for exhibitions (Fig. 9).24 It was established in 1975, just two years after Judy Chicago and other women artists opened the Woman’s Building in Los Angeles at the height of the second-wave feminist movement. The women behind DW Co-op wanted a similar space where local women artists could control what work was exhibited and how. Over the decades, DW Co-op named a governing board, changed its name to DW Gallery, and began giving exhibitions to men and women.25 The first exhibition to include men featured the work of locals Sam Gummelt and David McManaway with Houston sculptor Jim Love.26 Notable exhibitions included Wearable Works (1978); Gift Wrap (1979), with works on the theme by former Dallasite Rick Maxwell, Gilda Pervin, Tom Orr, and other gallery artists; and Book Exhibit (1982), curated by gallery director Diana Block. Some of the emerging artists who showed there—including David Bates, Clyde Connell, Danny Williams, and Otis Jones—went on to enjoy national reputations. What started as a 500-square-foot gallery space above a restaurant in Uptown expanded in 1983 into a Deep Ellum warehouse with more than 20 nationally known Texas-based artists on the roster and 2,400 square feet of exhibition space.27

Two of the most successful galleries in the Uptown area were bookends for the 1970s: Janie C. Lee Gallery, established in 1967 (Fig. 10),28 and Delahunty Gallery, launched in 1974 by Laura Carpenter, Murray Smither, and Virginia Gable (Fig. 11). The two spaces fared differently in Dallas, owing in part to economics but also to timing. In some ways, the Janie C. Lee Gallery paved the way for a gallery like Delahunty, which enjoyed greater success even though it showed similar work.

Janie C. Lee was ahead of her time for the artists and styles she introduced. She had spent several years in New York City, and she had the sophisticated taste and the right contacts to bring the national contemporary art scene to Dallas. Her relationship with New York gallery owner Leo Castelli was the source of much of her inventory, which she showed on consignment.29 In the early years, Lee ran the business from her apartment at 3525 Congress Avenue, but by 1970, the gallery had its own location at 3628 Maple Avenue. Highlights of exhibitions there included the 1969 exhibition of work by Frank Stella, Darby Bannard, David Diao, Robert Morris, Donald Judd, and Richard Serra;30 the 1970 exhibition Bengston/Price, by Californians Billy Al Bengston and Ken Price; the 1970 solo exhibition of work by Lynda Benglis (Fig. 12); and the 1972 exhibition New Paintings, Drawings, and Lithographs by Cy Twombly (Fig. 14). Lee’s minimalist aesthetic is reflected not only in the artists her gallery represented—Judd, Carl Andre, and Dan Flavin—but also in her 1976 gift to the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts of a Dan Flavin work dedicated to Donald Judd (Fig. 15). In 1973, Lee opened a branch of her gallery in Houston. In spite of critical success, the Dallas gallery closed in 1974, while the Houston branch stayed open until 1983.31

Delahunty Gallery also earned a reputation for bringing big names to Dallas. While Lee’s gallery emphasized nationally known artists, Delahunty maintained a strong connection to local and regional artists.32 Over the years the gallery presented exhibitions by Dallas-based artists George T. Green, Jim Roche, Gail Norfleet, Bob Wade, Lee Baxter Davis, Vernon Fisher, Raffaele Martini, Dan Rizzie, Debora Hunter, Nic Nicosia, Danny Williams, and James Surls. The connection to this local base was gallery director Murray Smither, who was well established in the Dallas art scene as director of Atelier Chapman Kelley, director of the Cranfill Gallery, and owner of the Smither Gallery before joining forces with Laura Carpenter and Virginia (Ginny) Gable at Delahunty in 1974. Operating at first out of Smither’s gallery at 2817 Allen Street, Delahunty soon moved to 2611 Cedar Springs Road. It remained there for several years until expanding into a new location in Deep Ellum in 1982.

Commercial galleries remained the driving force behind the art scene in Uptown through the 1980s and 1990s, with spaces like Edith Baker,33 Mattingly Baker,34 and Gerald Peters Fine Art35 exposing Dallas art lovers to current work by local, regional, and national artists. Edith Baker has had a long history of supporting art and artists in North Texas. She and her husband immigrated to the United States from Bulgaria in 1949, arriving in Dallas via Chicago in 1951. Edith took classes at the DMFA, studying under Octavio Medellín. In the 1960s, with the help of her husband, she opened her own studio behind their home, where she taught art classes.36 By 1977, Baker had stopped teaching and opened a gallery called Collector’s Choice with two partners in North Dallas near the intersection of Preston and Royal Lane. With a principal focus on decorative art and limited-edition prints, Collector’s Choice lasted until 1981, when the partnership ended. Baker renamed the space the Edith Baker Gallery, and by going out on her own shifted the focus to local artists, both emerging and established. In 1987, Baker moved her gallery to the Uptown area to be closer to the gallery district action.37 Baker retired in 2001 and handed over the reins to director Cidnee Patrick.

Aside from her gallery, Baker helped establish two organizations that focus on collaboration and community: the Dallas Art Dealers Association (DADA) and the Emergency Artists Support League (EASL). In 1985, Baker and 11 other gallery owners38 formed DADA as a way to encourage collaboration and synergy among the growing number of Dallas galleries (Fig. 16). Baker recalls the climate of the burgeoning gallery scene in the mid-1980s:

First of all, we never talked to each other. The galleries had no reason to talk to each other, and you didn’t know anybody. And so I think all of us were wondering what we could do, because I thought how other cities have their associations and we don’t have one. . . . We all had thought about it but June Mattingly was the one who assembled us into 12 galleries. . . . And the atmosphere changed . . . completely because we started communicating with each other.39

Activities sponsored by DADA include twice-yearly art walks and the Edith Baker Scholarship Fund, named in Edith’s honor starting in 2005. Today, DADA has more than 30 members.

With local arts administrator and artists’ advocate Patricia Meadows,40 Baker created the Emergency Artists Support League (EASL) in 1992 to provide emergency grant funding to visual artists and visual art professionals in North Texas. Baker came up with the idea after seeing the Houston organization DiverseWorks come to the aid of local artist James Bettison following a series of misfortunes. When Dallas-based artists Nancy Chambers and Tracy Hicks each encountered health problems, the local arts community came together, with Baker and Meadows at the helm. A volunteer steering committee41 solicited donations in the first six months of EASL’s existence. Later fundraisers included an artist-designed coloring book (Fig. 17); the Tie One On benefit auction of artist-designed or -altered neckties in 1993; the Hats Off to EASL benefit auction of artist-designed or -altered hats in 1994; the Hot Flash benefit auction of artist-designed or -altered candlesticks in 1995; and the annual Art Heist, which started in 2006. Since 1992, EASL has given North Texas artists more than $320,000 in emergency funding. As Baker recalls,

EASL was the project that I'm really, really proud of. It is so difficult to help artists. We don’t know what to do for them. You know, it’s not like, “Here, let me give you some money.” This . . . was just a good project that really worked well for everybody and nobody could be more grateful than the artists. . . . Those moments of EASL, I think, were probably my best memories because we worked like Trojans, you know, to put up a show if we could get the space that we wanted.42

DARE and The MAC

In 1994, McKinney Avenue Contemporary (The MAC) opened as a nonprofit space representing local, regional, national, and international contemporary artists. The MAC is the physical manifestation of several years of work by Dallas Artists Research and Exhibitions (DARE), which started in 1989 as a series of informal conversations between cofounders and friends Greg Metz and Tracy Hicks. Their talks led to organized meetings involving like-minded artists and covering topics like the need for greater art media coverage, ways around the “stagnant gallery scene,”43 and gaining greater exposure. At the heart of many of the discussions was the need for an organization to nurture and support serious, experimental artists of any medium and provide an alternative voice in the Dallas art community.44 As membership grew, so did DARE’s activities. In its first five years, the group organized the first Texas Biennial exhibition at the Fair Park Food and Fiber Pavilion; presented a Dialogue Series that brought national scholars and critics to Dallas, including preeminent modernist art critic Clement Greenberg; organized a rally in support of the National Endowment for the Arts (Fig. 18, Fig. 19); and published a newsletter covering the Dallas art scene and the group’s activities. DARE also developed a strong relationship with the Dallas Museum of Art through its director Richard Brettell and earned a seat at Museum board meetings, giving local artists a voice at one of the most exclusive tables in town.

In December 1990, DARE rented a warehouse on the edge of Deep Ellum as a place to curate exhibitions and performances for local artists, but the space at 605 South Good-Latimer Expressway needed serious renovation. In early 1994, local arts patron Claude Albritton offered to renovate a one-story 18,000-square-foot building at the corner of McKinney and Oak Grove Avenues in Uptown, rent the space to DARE for $1 per year, and contribute a $100,000 programming budget.45 DARE was absorbed into The MAC, having achieved its goal of creating an organization that nurtures contemporary artists. Since its opening, The MAC has exhibited more than 275 artists, continues its lecture series, and sponsors an in-house theater company, the Kitchen Dog Theater.

Uptown in the New Millennium

Uptown maintained its status as the gallery district of Dallas through the new millennium. Important gallery spaces like Pillsbury & Peters Gallery,46 Afterimage, Dunn and Brown Contemporary, and Photographs Do Not Bend kept the area alive with regular exhibitions of contemporary art by local, regional, and international artists in a variety of media.

As the neighborhood’s oldest running gallery and the city’s first dedicated photography gallery, Afterimage continues to offer exhibitions of local and international photographers organized by owner and founder Ben Breard. Every Christmas, a large group exhibition features prints from the gallery’s stock. Breard and Afterimage were also founding members of the Dallas Art Dealers Association.

Dunn and Brown Contemporary was established in 1999 by former Gerald Peters Fine Arts director Talley Dunn and Lisa Hirschler Brown in a former design warehouse at the north end of Uptown.47 At Gerald Peters since 1993, Dunn had developed a strong group of collectors while establishing relationships with the gallery’s artists, many of whom followed her to Dunn and Brown: David Bates, Julie Bozzi, Vernon Fisher, Annette Lawrence, Nic Nicosia, and Linda Ridgway. The first exhibition at Dunn and Brown, titled Inaugural Exhibition, featured Helen Altman of Fort Worth, Matthew Sontheimer of Houston, and Liz Ward of San Antonio. The exhibition program gave regular solo shows to stable artists and brought in exhibitions by artists of international renown. During its 12-year run, Dunn and Brown gained a reputation for supporting established and emerging local and regional artists. Brown left the partnership in 2011 to work as a private art consultant,48 and Dunn continued the gallery in the same location under her name. In addition to solo exhibitions by stable artists, Talley Dunn continues to bring in international exhibitions, including shows of Philip Pearlstein and Helen Frankenthaler in 2011 and a major Dale Chihuly retrospective in 2012 that featured work installed in the gallery and at the Dallas Arboretum.

As an alternative to Afterimage Gallery, Photographs Do Not Bend (PDNB) focuses on 20th-century and contemporary photography and photo-based art. Owned and operated by Burt and Missy Finger since 1995, the gallery represents recognized artists from the United States, Latin America, Europe, and Asia. Also featured are artist monographs and out-of-print photography books. In 2005, PNDB relocated to its present location in the Design District, joining former Uptown galleries Craighead Green Gallery,49 Gerald Peters Gallery, and Pan-American Gallery.50

The gallery migration to the Design District left Uptown with fewer options for viewing contemporary art. The neighborhood as a whole has transitioned in recent years to a lively dining and entertainment destination for young professionals. The number of residential properties has increased, and restaurants, bars, and nightclubs line McKinney Avenue and Cedar Springs Road. The West Village property development at Lemmon and McKinney Avenues further adds to the neighborhood’s attraction. Two anchor spaces—Talley Dunn Gallery and The MAC—maintain the neighborhood’s vital connection to local art communities. With the addition of Klyde Warren Park connecting Uptown to the Arts District, the opportunities for exchange between these two neighborhoods are only beginning.

29) Janie C. Lee describes her first meeting with Castelli:

I greatly enjoyed meeting with you in New York. When Barbara Rose [art historian and art critic, wife of Frank Stella 1961–1969] suggested arranging a luncheon introduction, I admit to being very excited, shy, and most curious. Curious because the respect and position you so rightly hold did not necessarily combine with the qualities Barbara spoke of in regard to you—helpfulness, kindness, and courtesy. Barbara was right and I look forward to working with you. It is my hope that my gallery will present to my geographical area the excitement of contemporary art today. The majority opinion here is that contemporary art is seen (if at all) in a museum viewed as a distant entity, and not as something that can become a vital part of anyone’s life.

Janie C. Lee to Leo Castelli, January 27, 1969, Leo Castelli Gallery Records, box 12, folder 18 (Janie C. Lee Gallery), Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.

30) In a letter to Castelli, Lee describes problems with local media in regard to this exhibition:

I have done what I could on the national level by taking a full page ad (handled by Marc Ratliff) in the March issue of Artforum. Henry Hopkins [director of the Fort Worth Art Center Museum] and I are co-ordinating our separate activities in the hopes of some national comment. I have an idea for local press which I would like you to consider. When I did a show on California (Bell, Kaufman, Price, Alexander, and Benton) Irving Blum called and asked if he could come and bring John Coplans. Naturally, I said yes, and hastily arranged for them to meet with the ‘art critics’ from both newspapers. They spent one hour and a half with each ‘critic’. The more ambitious critic bemoaned the high price of ‘funk art,’ while his counterpart preferred to remain silent. . . . We do have one writer who gives a good interview, and by giving her an exclusive story with a well-known personality who is equipped to speak on my exhibition, I would have knowledgeable published comment on the show. I need a person who can command news copy and speak well on the subject, and Leo, you are perfect! If you could come to Dallas for one or two days, (at my expense) I would arrange the following. My official opening is March 27. If you could arrive Wednesday, the 26th, I would schedule your interview Wednesday afternoon. Wednesday evening would be a special preview at the gallery, with the guest list ranging from young collectors to people you know, i.e. Stanley Marcus, John D. Murchison, Henry Hopkins, etc. The preview would be followed by a dinner in your honor given by Betty Guiberson (Blake).

Janie C. Lee to Leo Castelli, February 17, 1969, Leo Castelli Gallery Records, box 12, folder 18 (Janie C. Lee Gallery), Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.

Oak Cliff: Dallas' Left Bank

Through the 1970s and 1980s, Oak Cliff became a lively creative enclave, earning its nickname as Dallas’ Left Bank. Local artists discovered opportunities in the available, affordable homes and former businesses in the declining area, and as they created studios and live-work spaces there in the late 1960s, the neighborhood blossomed as an arts community. Visual artists like the Oak Cliff Four moved in to live alongside Oak Cliff natives—actors and musicians like Yvonne Craig, Stevie Ray Vaughn, and T-Bone Walker. They followed earlier generations of artists, including Texas regionalist Frank Reaugh (1860–1945), who moved to Dallas in 1890 and established a studio in Oak Cliff, and Velma (1901–1988) and Otis Dozier (1904–1987), whose home was a frequent meeting place for Otis’ students from Southern Methodist University.

Bordered today by the Trinity River and interstate highways 30 and 35E, Oak Cliff was a separate town until it was annexed by the city at the turn of the 20th century. Historically, the neighborhood was a wealthy suburb, popular with upper-middle-class residents for its rolling hills and lush green landscapes. Though Oak Cliff has officially been part of Dallas for more than a century, people who live there have reveled in their outsider status, taking pride in a place that has the feeling of a small town nestled within a big city.

Oak Cliff has had a few notorious residents, including Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow and Lee Harvey Oswald. Oswald’s connection left a stain on the neighborhood in 1963. He was apprehended there in the historic Texas Theatre, near the boarding house where he lived, after the assassination of President John F. Kennedy downtown and the shooting death of Dallas police officer J. D. Tippit in Oak Cliff. These events—and the fact that Oswald’s killer, Jack Ruby, was also an Oak Cliff resident at the time—influenced the neighborhood’s reputation as a “lawless, useless zone.”1

After the Civil Rights Act of 1964, South Oak Cliff was one of the first neighborhoods in Dallas to begin integration. African-American residents could now live in affordable, attractive homes in stable communities—a far cry from the overcrowded, crime-ridden conditions in South Dallas and State Thomas, where racist law and tradition dominated. The shifting racial demographics of Oak Cliff led to decreasing property values and large-scale white flight, as more and more white property owners left their homes vacant and moved to the developing suburbs in North Dallas.2 During this transition, Oak Cliff gradually fell into decline. While the area experienced a resurgence of activity when artists began moving there in the 1970s and 1980s, its artist communities remained stuck in the segregated past. There was little comingling then between African-American artists living in Oak Cliff—including Arthello Beck Jr. and Frank Frazier—and artists who relocated there in search of affordable space. Beck’s gallery remained focused on showing the work of African-American artists, and new galleries that opened in the late 1980s and early 1990s—such as Ann Taylor Gallery, Visions in Black, and Ebony Fine Arts Gallery—kept this racial focus. As the demographics have shifted in recent years to include a large Latino population, the Ice House Cultural Center and Steve Cruz’s Mighty Fine Arts have contributed to the growing diversity of the artist communities of Oak Cliff.

Oak Cliff Artists: 1970s

Artists George T. Green, Jack Mims, Jim Roche, Mac Whitney, and Robert (Daddy-O) Wade had all established studios in Oak Cliff by 1970 (Fig. 1). Living across the Trinity River from most of the art activity in Dallas, they took advantage of the freedom that comes with relative isolation. They were all about the same age, and nearly all were southerners by birth.3 Mims, Roche, and Green met as students in the MFA program at the University of Dallas. Though Mims was born and raised in Oak Cliff, Whitney was the first of the group to move there as a professional artist. Arriving in Texas in 1969 for his first solo exhibition at One Main Place (Fig. 13), Whitney established his studio in a two-story brick home next to a vacant lot near the Oak Farms Dairy (Fig. 29)4 and later moved to a ranch-style family home a few blocks from where Oswald shot Officer Tippit. Following Mims’ 1970 MFA thesis exhibition for UD, which was installed in the lobby of One Main Place (Fig. 2),5 he set up a studio in a home he inherited from his grandmother.6 With Mims’ encouragement, Roche followed, and then Wade moved into a converted loft space on the corner of Beckley Avenue and Jefferson Boulevard. Green moved into the area around Bishop Avenue and Eighth Street, now known as the Bishop Arts District, and combined several empty apartments into one huge space.7 Though Whitney lived near Green, Mims, Roche, and Wade and was part of their famous chili dinners at Wade’s studio,8 his loner mentality and strikingly different approach to his work separated him from the core group, who would become known as the Oak Cliff Four.9

Artists working in Oak Cliff gained national attention when Newsweek featured them in a 1972 article titled “Big D.” It focused on Roche, Green, and Sam Gummelt10 just after an exhibition of their work at the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts.11 A single, iconic image depicted four artists in Wade’s studio, with the caption, “Dallas artists Roche, Green, Mims, and Wade: Chili and bravado” (Fig. 30).12 Though the article never clearly defined a group, it may be the reason Roche, Green, Mims, and Wade were singled out as the Oak Cliff Four. A year later, the Oak Cliff Four had a group exhibition at the Tyler Museum of Art (Fig. 3, Fig. 31),13 solidifying their status as a four-man collective. Later in 1973 they had a group show at Dennis Hopper’s gallery in Taos, New Mexico.

Looking at their work, it is not immediately apparent what Green, Mims, Roche, and Wade had in common. But they all drew on Texas mythologies for their subject matter in ways that became characterized as a certain style of Texas Funk. Hailing from Buddy Holly’s birthplace of Lubbock, Texas, Green was heavily influenced by 1950s nostalgia and referenced the kitschy culture of the time: Holly and rock-and-roll, drive-in movie theaters, cars, and 1950s household fixtures and decor. He constructed sculptures using out-of-date linoleum as his material (Fig. 9), as well as drawings in which cockroaches anthropomorphize as human characters with Texan costumes. Roche’s busty ceramic “mama plants” and ink-on-mylar drawings narrated the dysfunctional culture of Texas (Fig. 5, Fig. 6), while Mims’ more traditional practice of painting focused on symbolism with ominous overtones (Fig. 7). Wade’s work most directly reflected his surroundings, producing photo emulsion canvases that portrayed outlaws and social misfits like Bonnie and Clyde, Lee Harvey Oswald, and Jack Ruby (Fig. 8).

Though the Oak Cliff Four never thought of themselves as a collective, the group leveraged the popularity of their recently anointed brand and presented a united front as “part of a general movement . . . that was decentralizing the art world and breaking up the Minimalist hegemony.”14 The artists enjoyed wide-ranging local support, with galleries like Cranfill Gallery, Atelier Chapman Kelley, Janie C. Lee Gallery, and Delahunty Gallery giving them solo exhibitions. Henry T. Hopkins, director of the Fort Worth Art Center Museum (now the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth), and Fort Worth Star-Telegram arts critic Jan Butterfield furthered the group’s cause on a national level.

The four artists disbanded around 1974 when their individual careers took on greater importance. In 1973, Roche accepted a position at Florida State University in Tallahassee, and Mims followed a year later. Wade received a National Endowment for the Arts grant that year to realize a massive project: collecting objects, signs, memorabilia, and memories from across the country to install in his Bicentennial Map of the United States in North Dallas in 1976. This 300-foot-wide earthwork, which reflected Wade’s interaction with Robert Smithson at the Northwood Institute, included billboards touting, among other things, Tandy's Radio Shack and Big Boy Hamburgers, an Old Faithful water fountain from Wyoming, a telephone booth from Chicago, and 12 miniature skyscrapers courtesy of Continental Steel. The work caught the attention of People magazine, which featured Wade in its issue celebrating the U.S. Bicentennial.15

Northwood Institute’s Contemporary Arts Program

While living in his Oak Cliff studio, Bob Wade made trips back and forth to his teaching gig at a small, business-oriented, two-year college in far South Oak Cliff called Northwood Institute (Fig. 10).16 With a main campus in Midland, Michigan, by 1969 Northwood had branches in West Palm Beach, Florida; Cedar Hill, Texas; and Skowhegan, Maine.17 The specialized curriculum was “developed in cooperation with business and industry” and focused on “imparting new concepts of usable knowledge for use in today’s world through creative teaching and close association of the learning with the doing.”18 With the belief that its learning-by-doing strategy should also apply to the visual arts, Northwood introduced a contemporary arts program at the Dallas-area campus in 1968. While short lived, the program brought nationally recognized artists like Robert Smithson, Keith Sonnier, Italo Scanga, Alan Shields, and Billy Al Bengston to Texas. It also became an outlet for leading minds in the arts community, including Betty Blake, Evelyn Lambert, Chapman Kelley, and Henry Hopkins, to focus their energy on making great things happen in the underrecognized Dallas arts scene. The combination of art and technology put the program at the forefront of contemporary art practices, giving students hands-on experience working with engineers from Dallas-based Texas Instruments to create works of art using innovative technologies.

Since the merger of the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts with the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts in 1963, many people involved with the DMCA and the local art scene had been looking for ways to promote contemporary art in Dallas. With the new Northwood Institute Experimental Contemporary Arts Program, they looked to the Cedar Hill campus as a center for this emerging interest (Fig. 11).19 The program offered a visual arts curriculum culminating in a two-year associate’s degree. Courses included art history, painting, life drawing, sculpture, and electives in filmmaking, photography, graphic design, and theater design. Teachers were practicing professional artists, and the campus regularly welcomed visiting artists.20

Local artist and gallery owner Chapman Kelley, who offered his services as an advisor, developed the initial idea for the program at Northwood,21 and in 1969 Kelley and his wife established the first scholarship fund for students.22 In its first year, the program enrolled 22 full-time students and three part-time students. Facilities on the Cedar Hill campus included a workshop, a display area, offices, a library room, a museum display area, and storage, along with studios for students and the director of education, Alberto Collie (Fig. 12). Students used materials like “laser beams, magnetic water, fiber optics, neon, polyurethane foam, polyurethane sheets, rock (natural), metal, environmental chambers, and stroboscopes.”23 Among the guest lecturers in the first year were Vassilakis Takis, Len Lye, Howard Wise, and Kenneth Snelson. Mr. and Mr. Joseph O. Lambert Jr. of Dallas gave the Northwood Institute one of Snelson’s large metal sculptures, which was installed outside the Lambert Commons building on campus and later temporarily installed in the lagoon at the DMFA in Fair Park (Fig. 14).

Despite the local success of the program, Northwood executives wanted national reach and visibility, so they appointed former DMCA director Douglas MacAgy as chairman of the contemporary arts advisory committee of the Northwood Institute of Texas. MacAgy—at the time a top official at the federal National Endowment for the Arts in Washington, D.C.24—called together personal friends and colleagues from the art world for the first advisory committee meeting in May 1970. They included some of the nation’s leading museum directors: Walter Hopps of the Corcoran Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C. (later founding director of the Menil Collection, Houston); Leon Arkus of the Carnegie Institute Museum of Art, Pittsburgh; Sebastian Adler of the Contemporary Arts Museum, Houston; and Henry Hopkins of the Fort Worth Art Center Museum. Among the other members were Victor D’Amico, director of education at the Museum of Modern Art, New York; Robert Kaupelis, artist and professor of art at New York University; Carl Feiss, counselor on planning and urban design for the American Institute of Architects; and Rev. Roger Ortmayer, director of the department of church and culture, National Council of Churches of Christ, New York. Local committee members who attended were Alberto Collie, sculptor and director of the Northwood Contemporary Art and Experimental Art Institute; Paul Baker, director of the Dallas Theater Center; Betty Blake Guiberson, gallery owner; Chapman Kelley, artist and gallery owner; Lawrence Kelly, director of the Dallas Civic Opera; and Mrs. Clint Murchison Jr.25

The committee changed the program’s name to the School of Contemporary Arts and discussed moving it to downtown Dallas, but decided that a campus location was more advantageous for students.26 Aspirations for the program were high, and it seemed to have a sound base of local and national support. Chapman Kelley contacted a group of well-known artists—including Philip Guston, Roy Lichtenstein, and James Rosenquist—about their interest in being visiting artists, and many of them were intrigued.27 But none of those on Kelley’s ambitious list ever made it to Northwood, and the little available material on the program suggests that the most famous artist to visit the campus was Robert Smithson, who arrived in late 1970.

During his weeklong visit, Smithson gave lectures to students and showed his recently completed film Spiral Jetty to students, faculty, and guests at the home of Betty Blake Guiberson.28 He also scouted out property on campus that appealed to him as a potential site for one of his signature “pour” works.29 Smithson did a series of nine drawings illustrating his ideas for the earthwork Texas Overflow, 1970 (Fig. 15, Fig. 16). The drawings also serve as a storyboard for a film documenting a sculpture/earthwork that was never completed. As former Northwood student and future gallery owner Eugene Binder recalls:

I remember he [Smithson] really didn’t have this outgoing personality, which is something I ended up seeing with Donald Judd. These people [artists] had . . . this vision and they had their work, and this was an important thing. And while they wanted to project it out into the world, they also . . . had their share of naysayers. There was a certain concentration that they had that was very interesting to me in their presence, and that was getting it done. I remember Smithson being kind of aggravated, I guess, because people didn’t jump up and say, “Yeah, I want to be a part of this!” . . . I know that there was a sort of disappointment, like, “okay, I made my pitch and it’s not happening here.”30

Other artists who visited the Northwood Institute included painters Larry Zox, Christopher Wilmarth (Fig. 17), and Billy Al Bengston (who had exhibitions at the Janie C. Lee Gallery in Dallas during their visits), constructivist sculptor George Rickey, and light sculptor Keith Sonnier. Exhibitions of student work and major collections were installed in Lambert Commons, a new building dedicated to Mr. and Mrs. Joseph O. Lambert Jr., major Northwood benefactors who were instrumental in founding and developing the program.31 In March 1971, selections from the collection of Mrs. Harry Lynde Bradley of Milwaukee were on view, giving students, local artists, and residents the opportunity to see more than 50 major works of modern art.32 The Lambert Commons gallery stayed open seven days a week to allow ample time for visitors to see this important collection.

After the success of the Bradley exhibition, the contemporary arts program moved in 1972 to Downtown Dallas (Fig. 18, Fig. 19), where students would have easier access to the local art scene and be fully immersed in the culture of emerging artists just down the street in Deep Ellum. The new location at 4300 Gaston Avenue at Peak Street also came with a new director: Bob Wade.33 But after just four months in this location, Northwood Institute’s executive officers decided to move the program back to the Cedar Hill campus. Wade resigned soon after.34

Funding problems continued to plague Northwood’s contemporary art program, and despite lofty aspirations and apparent support, it was doomed. Only a few months after the May 1970 advisory committee planning meeting, the president and vice president had expressed their concern over the program’s slow start.35 When MacAgy died in September 1973 and Hopkins left Fort Worth for San Francisco that same year, the program lost its greatest advocates. The advisory committee dissolved, and the contemporary arts program closed sometime the following year. Northwood Institute still had an interest in combining business with the arts. From 1974 through the 1980s, the Michigan campus offered seminars on arts management and circulated them among its satellite campuses.

Oak Cliff through the 1980s

Creative activity in Oak Cliff was relatively quiet by the 1980s. The Creative Arts Center of Dallas, established by a group of local arts patrons in 1965 in the studio home of early Oak Cliff artist Frank Reaugh,36 had been a vital presence during its 20 years in the neighborhood, but it moved to the Kramer Elementary School building in East Dallas in 1982. This community center offered classes in theater, sculpture, painting, drawing, and ceramics taught by area artists, along with exhibitions of work by instructors and visiting artists. Local sculptor Octavio Medellín, a former teacher at the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts Museum School, established the Medellín School of Sculpture at the center in 1966.

The few galleries remaining in the neighborhood tended to cater to diverse audiences. Arthello Beck Jr.—a member of the Southwest Black Artists Guild and a founder of the Association for Advancing Artists and Writers, Inc.—had established the Arthello Beck Gallery in 1974 in his home on Ramsey Avenue. His gallery featured the work of his friends and colleagues active in Dallas’ African-American arts community, such as photographer Carl Sidle and painters Nathan Jones, Jean Lacy, B. D. Norman, and Walter Winn.37 The gallery Modern Dallas Art had a successful run, attracting Dallasites across the river to Oak Cliff. Founded in 1986 by Glenn Lane and his partner Tim Thetford, its artists included Tony Holman, Rhea Burden, Gwen Norsworthy, Olya Cherentsova-Collins, Charlene Rathburn, Bob Nunn, Meg Loomis, Norman Kary, and George Moseley (Fig. 20, Fig. 21). It closed in 1990.

During the 1980s, local artists again began revitalizing parts of the neighborhood. Greg Metz, Bill Haveron, and Randy Twaddle moved into the vacant storefronts now known as the Bishop Arts District and jump-started the gentrification of the popular area. The concentration of notable Dallas artists living in Oak Cliff—including Tom Orr, Frank X. Tolbert 2, and Ann Lee Stautberg—inspired the creation of the bi-annual Oak Cliff studio tour (Fig. 22).38

But artists also felt the negative impact of gentrification. In both Oak Cliff and Deep Ellum, the presence of artists in the community attracted nightclubs, and restaurants. Before long, developers sought a piece of the action. Eventually artists were priced out of neighborhoods they had helped to rejuvenate. By the mid- to late 1980s, developers had purchased many of the buildings Metz and his friends had renovated in the Bishop Arts District, sending them out to hunt for new space. Metz’s winning entry in the 1985 Oak Cliff Kinetic Sculpture parade was created in protest over the never-ending quest for space to live and work. The requirements for the judged competition were simple: original, “people-powered” works made of moving parts (Fig. 23, Fig. 24, Fig. 25). Metz’s Artist Wheel of Misfortune—an oversized hamster wheel powered by the artist running inside it—was adorned with a sign that read, “Oak Cliff used to raise artists and chickens. Now they only raise the rent (Fig. 26).”39

South of the development in the Bishop Arts District, African-American artists were creating opportunities of their own. Ann Taylor Gallery, established in 1988 in the Westcliff Mall in South Oak Cliff, was the first of the new galleries to feature their work. In 1989, three more galleries opened: Ebony Fine Arts Gallery, Roots Gallery (in Deep Ellum), and Visions in Black.40 These spaces catered to the predominantly African-American residents of Oak Cliff, offering them the opportunity to see and be inspired by the work of African-American artists.

Into the 21st Century

Oak Cliff welcomed its first official cultural center in 1997 with the opening of the Ice House Cultural Center in a 1908 building at 1004 West Page Street. Part of the City of Dallas Office of Cultural Affairs, it was a Latino-focused venue to promote arts and cultural events that reflect the diversity of Oak Cliff and surrounding neighborhoods. The center closed in 2009 and reemerged in 2010 as the Oak Cliff Cultural Center in a new location next door to the historic Texas Theatre. It has an art gallery and multipurpose studio and offers workshops, musical performances, dance classes, and summer camps for all ages. The gallery is open to exhibition submissions and has hosted exhibitions such as La Genta de la Revolución (November 2010–January 2011), historic photographs that document the Mexican Revolution; XXI: Conflicts in a New Century (April 2011), a group photography exhibit curated by locals Charles Dee Mitchell and Cynthia Mulcahy; and Oak Cliff in Transit (July–August, 2012), a “visual homage” to the neighborhood through paintings and conceptual works by Mathew Barnes, Rosie Lee, and Orlando Sanchez.

The neighborhood welcomed its first artist residency in 1998 with Art Landing, established by Rachel Stirewalt and her husband J. D. Varnell as a combination gallery, workspace, and residence. The couple renovated the old warehouse, which accommodates up to 12 artists in its vast 11,000-square-foot space.41 In 2005, La Reunion TX (LRTX) was established on 35 acres in West Oak Cliff. In this nontraditional residency, artists are invited to create site-specific ephemeral works in tune with the natural environment, based on the premise that “art and artists are critical to a thriving community . . . [and] need a chance, from time to time, to recharge their creative spirit.” Regular programs include Art Chicas, which teams high school students with established artists; Found Object Art, a partnership with the Nasher Sculpture Center and the Dallas Independent School District; and Environmental Art, an annual juried program in which local artists to create works using materials from the LRTX grounds.42

As Oak Cliff entered the 21st century, spaces like Mulcahy Modern43 and Mighty Fine Arts44 continued the neighborhood’s tradition of representing work by diverse emerging local and regional talent. Today Oak Cliff claims more artists per capita than any neighborhood in the Dallas–Fort Worth Metroplex. In 2005, artists living and working there began organizing the Visual Speed Bump Tour, an annual open-studio event involving as many as 15 studios and spaces. Artists like Kim Cadmus Owens, Scott Winterrowd, Gretchen Goetz, Erik Tosten, Duke Horn, and artist duo Chuck & George (Brian K. Jones and Brian K. Scott) offer the public a glimpse into their world, while galleries and art spaces like Oil and Cotton, the Davis Foundry, and the Lilco Press also welcome visitors.

The neighborhood of Oak Cliff continues to enjoy a vital art scene, maintaining its focus on creating connections through a strong sense of community. Its many artists and creative spaces make it a destination for art and culture, while it retains a sense of history through original buildings like the Texas Theatre, the Belmont Hotel, and the Wynnewood Shopping Center. Unlike neighborhoods that boast major institutions or glamorous galleries, Oak Cliff truly feels as though it is run by the artists themselves.

2) “Evidence of the ‘white flight' can be seen in the enrollment figures at South Oak Cliff High School. In 1966, the student body was 100 percent white. The next year desegregation began and so did the changes. By the 1968–69 school year, 82 percent of South Oak Cliff High students were black, and 13 percent were white. The next year, those numbers were 94 percent and 4 percent.” Dan Shine, “Singing its Praises—Eased Racial Barriers Drew Many Blacks to South Oak Cliff,” Dallas Morning News, February 19, 1995, 37A.

Bill Minutaglio further explained the situation in Oak Cliff: “Integration, civil rights and racism—economic and otherwise—resulted in one of the most massive cases of ‘white flight' ever seen in the South. In the early 1960s, Oak Cliff was 90 percent white. By the end of the decade, thousands of whites had moved to the brick homes and shopping malls of North Dallas. Major department stores like Sears moved out.” Bill Minutaglio, “A Separate City—As It Nears its 100th Birthday, Oak Cliff Still Has a Mind of its Own,” Dallas Morning News, December 17, 1989, 18.

10) Though Gummelt was an Oak Cliff artist, his work had a minimalist aesthetic unlike the work of Green, Mims, Roche, and Wade, setting himself apart from the Oak Cliff Four. In the early 1970s, he worked mostly with textiles and a sewing machine, stitching together squares of fabric into geometric “drawings.” Throughout his long career, Gummelt has maintained a similar style, though he has shifted from sewing together his “drawings” to painting them on canvas. Gummelt enjoyed early success in Dallas when gallery owner and art dealer Janie C. Lee started representing his work and giving him solo exhibitions in 1970. Of the four works in the DMA’s collection, the 1972 drawing Cowper #5 was purchased from the Janie C. Lee Gallery. The other three works are Untitled, 1983, purchased from the Dallas-based Carol Taylor Gallery; Small Red Square, 1996, mixed media on board, 38 x 23 1/2 in. (96.5 x 59.7 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, the Patsy Lacy Griffith Collection, bequest of Patsy Lacy Griffith, object no.: 2001.243; and Jacksboro, which was purchased from the local gallery Dunn and Brown and best represents Gummelt’s work from the early 1970s.

11) Roche, Green, and Gummelt were part of Interchange, a group exhibition of Texas- and Minnesota-based artists organized in collaboration with the Walker Art Center, Minneapolis. Curators Robert Murdock of the DMFA and Richard Koshalek of the Walker (later director of the Fort Worth Art Museum, 1974–1976) selected the artists for the pilot project, conceived in the hope of inspiring other museum exhibitions of multiregional work. The Minnesota artists were sculptor Carl Brody and painters Jim Kielkopf and Jerry Ott. The exhibition was on view at the DMFA from July 26 to September 4, 1972, and at the Walker Art Center from December 17, 1972, to January 28, 1973. News release, Dallas Museum of Fine Arts, [1972], University of North Texas Libraries, Portal to Texas History (viewed on July 12, 2013).

25) Committee members who did not attend the Dallas meetings were Richard F. Brown, director, Kimbell Art Museum; Mildred Constantine, curator, Museum of Modern Art, New York; Martin Friedman, director, Walker Art Center, Minneapolis; Gerald Nordland, director, San Francisco Museum of Modern Art; Harris K. Prior, director, Memorial Art Gallery of the University of Rochester, New York; William Seitz, former curator, Museum of Modern Art, New York, and professor of art, University of Virginia; and Brian O’Doherty, artist and writer, Art in America. Staff, “Experts Help Northwood Art”, Dallas Morning News, May 23, 1970; Minutes of the Northwood Institute Contemporary Arts Advisory Committee, May 16 and 17, 1970, Henry Hopkins Director’s Files, Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth; and Northwood Contemporary Arts Advisory Board 1971, Henry Hopkins Director’s Files, Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth.

26) The minutes from the inaugural meeting record other topics and concerns addressed: staffing, public relations, and the distinction between artists in residence (not necessarily based on reputation) and visiting artists (top professionals who would be on campus for short periods). Minutes of the Northwood Institute Contemporary Arts Advisory Committee, May 16 and 17, 1970, Henry Hopkins Director’s Files, Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth. Members came up with the following list of potential visiting artists: Leon Polk Smith, James Rosati, Sidney Peterson, Otto Piene, James Brooks, Richards Ruben, Allan D’Archangelo, Richard Anuszkiewicz, Tony Berlant, Tony Smith, Richard Estes, Jack Beal, Sam Francis, Craig Kauffman, Sam Gilliam, John Alberty, Louise Nevelson, Robert Whitman, Rockne Krebs, Alan Shields, Duayne Hatchett, De Wain Valentine, Alberto Burri, Pierre Alechinsky, and Asger Jorn. Chapman Kelley to Douglas MacAgy August 15, 1970, Henry Hopkins Director’s Files, Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth.

27) Chapman Kelley sent MacAgy this list (Kelley, letter to MacAgy, August 15, 1970, Henry Hopkins Director’s Files, Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth):

Peter Forakis—401 West Street, New York; idea fine—will come this summer
Barnett Newman—685 West End Ave., New York; Could set pattern for all art schools—could only happen in Texas—will come May 18—spent afternoon in apartment and over lunch of Shad
Roe—good for advisory board
Robert Motherwell—173 E. 94th St., New York; Offer to continue to advise—possibility of board position—much enthusiasm—pressed for time in the near future—invite later—wishes he had had such a place to study, only problem might be that it could be too Utopian.
Philip Guston—Box 660 Woodstock, New York; will come in summer or fall
James Rosati—56 Third Ave., New York; splendid idea—enjoyed O.U.
Richard Anuszkiewicz—76 Chestnut St., Englewood, New Jersey; enthusiastic—write details about coming
John Chamberlain—405 E. 13th Street, New Jersey; would come and work with students on film as soon as we would like
Adolph Gottlieb—190 Broadway, New York; interested—pressed for time to come—would like to talk and follow progress
Mark Rothko—(ref. Adolph Gottlieb) 118 E. 95 St., New York; thinks it is a good idea—wishes us well—will follow, but has little faith in art schools
Roy Lichtenstein—(ref. Ivan Karp) 190 Bowery (at Spring), New York; very enthusiastic
Richard Lindner—(ref. Paula Cooper) 333 E. 69th Street, New York; warmly enthusiastic—just what he has long agitated for—why can’t it be built in L.I.?
James Rosenquist—(ref. Ivan Karp) 46 Spring Fireplace Road, East Hampton, NJ [sic]; will consider short time while visiting parents in Dallas
Ronald [sic] Stein (Pollock’s nephew)—(ref. Thomas Gibson—Marlboro [sic]), 76 E. 79th St., New York; interested in film making and coming for three months with three month option, two days weekly
Andy Warhol—sounds good—keep posted
Isamu Noguchi and Dwayn [sic] Hatchett were contacted later and were quite interested.

29) A draft letter details the Texas Overflow project:

In November, 1970, Robert Smithson visited the Northwood Campus, Cedar Hills, Texas, as part of the Contemporary Art Program. While there he designed a piece called “Texas Overflow” which would be located in a quarry which faces the new Joe and Evelyn Lambert Commons Building.
“Texas Overflow” is an important piece of sculpture which would be a major addition to the Northwood Campus and would act as a stimulant to the Contemporary Art program (See enclosed review of “Spiral Jetty,” another recent Smithson piece).
If the piece can be accomplished, we have been assured of free advertisements in ‘Art Forum’ Magazine and a possible photo in “Vogue” which would benefit the Northwood program. A film about the piece and the process of construction will be distributed through museums and galleries as part of the total project. We need $10,000 beyond present commitments to bring this project to fruition and hope that you will be able to participate by contributing to the Northwood Outdoor Sculpture Fund.

Unsigned letter, n.d., Northwood Institute File, Henry Hopkins Director’s Files, Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth. Hopkins was director of the Fort Worth Art Center Museum (now the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth) from 1969 to 1973 and a member of the Northwood Institute Contemporary Arts Advisory Committee at the time of Smithson’s visit. Linda Peterson, "Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth," in Texas State Historical Association, Handbook of Texas Online (viewed on June 14, 2013).

34) Charles L. Morrison (dean, Northwood Institute) to Robert Wade, February 26, 1973, Henry Hopkins Director’s Files, Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth; and Janet Kutner, “Other Museums Seek Directors,” Dallas Morning News November 9, 1973.

The program was already under fire by Northwood officials. In a June 1969 letter to Douglas MacAgy, Northwood dean Joseph A. Clark described his frustration with visiting artist instructor Bill Komodore:

It has been almost two weeks since Bill Komodore left us. I’ve waited this long to collect my thoughts so that when I did finally write this letter to you, I could do so as dispassionately as possible.
First, it was unfortunate indeed that of all the great instructors we had this year, that it had to be Komodore who lived in the dorm area and therefore exercised such a strong force on the students. . . .
I cautioned Bill not to bring beer or liquor in, but if he did to please be discreet, since we could not afford any breach of rules by an instructor. He was not discreet and he did drink in the dorm with students.
He was, and here I shall try to be fair, alleged to have had (1) a “pot party” in the dorm and (2) spent the night in his dorm with a girl he was dating from S.M.U. I was informed about this after both events had happened and it was, apparently, spread all over the campus.
He did proposition, and otherwise conduct himself in a rather odious fashion with all the secretaries and some faculty wives.
Now Douglas, let me say here that I am (1) no prude (2) not easily shocked and (3) aware of the “sins” of the world, but Komodore’s actions were detrimental to the college and especially our fledgling art department. Students, we can handle in a variety of ways, but just how do you handle a wayward instructor?

Joseph A. Clark, letter to Douglas MacAgy, June 5, 1969, Douglas MacAgy Papers, 1916–1973, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.

Deep Ellum: Where Mainstream and Counterculture Converge

Just east of Downtown, Deep Ellum is defined by Elm Street, Canton Street, and Good-Latimer Expressway. This lively neighborhood was once known as the seedy underbelly of Dallas where brothels, jazz clubs, pawn shops, and fight-a-night bars operated side by side. In its early heyday in the 1920s and 1930s, Deep Ellum was the place to hear some of Texas’ best-known jazz and blues musicians, including “Blind” Lemon Jefferson, Sam “Lightnin’” Hopkins, and Huddie “Lead Belly” Ledbetter.1 In the 1950s and 1960s, the neighborhood deteriorated, as Dallas’ population shifted to the emerging north suburbs. Until the 1970s, arts activity had been relegated mostly to the polished Uptown neighborhood and the nearby area of Fair Park–South Dallas.

The first galleries to set up shop in Deep Ellum battled its reputation as a high-crime part of town. Gunfire and police sirens made up the neighborhood soundtrack, and it was difficult to get collectors to come there after dark. But the music scene—always a signature of Deep Ellum—made a comeback in the mid-1980s with the arrival of punk rock and New Wave. That decade was a moment when the arts and music scenes coalesced, making the neighborhood the hottest spot for both mainstream and counterculture.

The 1970s and 500X

Artists began moving into Deep Ellum in the 1970s for the same reasons they gravitated to other parts of Dallas: abundant open space and cheap rent in abandoned factories and warehouses. They converted buildings into livable spaces that doubled as studios and sidestepped traditional commercial galleries by staging their own exhibitions to gain exposure. This kind of do-it-yourself attitude led to the creation of several alternative and artist-run spaces, with 500 Exposition Gallery (now 500X) leading the way.

The oldest gallery in Deep Ellum and the oldest artist-run space in Texas, 500X was a catalyst for activity in the neighborhood. It opened in 1978 as 500 Exposition Gallery in an old tire warehouse on the edge of Deep Ellum that artists Richard Childers and Will Hipps purchased in 1976. Childers had been living in another warehouse space in Fair Park on the second floor of 842 First Avenue, where he and artist Gilda Pervin organized First Saturdays. At these monthly events, artists paid a nominal fee for space to display and sell their work directly to the public.2 Hipps was a recent transplant, fresh off a fellowship at the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, Massachusetts, and recruited in 1975 to start the art department at the University of Texas at Dallas. During his tenure he created the bachelor of fine arts and master of fine arts programs and built the campus’ iconic Art Barn building.3

Taking ownership of the warehouse turned out to be the easiest aspect of establishing 500 Exposition Gallery. The space needed extensive renovation to realize Childers’ and Hipps’ dream of cooperative studios and gallery space. They recruited friends and fellow artists Scott Madison, Becky Newsom, Susan Walton, Gilda Pervin, and Christi Pate to help convert the building (Fig. 1). By 1978, 20 local artist-investors were considered equal owners of the space.4 Sixty percent of any sale went to the artist, while the remaining 40 percent went to the corporation. Funding was available to hire a director, so the artists invited Amy Williams Monier, a recent Wellesley College graduate, to head the gallery in its first year. The inaugural exhibition, New Spaces: Gallery Premier Group Show, presented work from the co-op’s 20 incorporated artists (Fig. 2). Later shows tended to focus on work by individuals or groups.5 Annual juried invitational exhibitions called Expo, displayed in one or all of 500X’s three galleries, began in 1992 and continue today. Judges have included Diana Block, director of the University of North Texas Art Gallery; Joan Davidow, director of the Arlington Museum of Art; Annegreth Nill, associate curator of contemporary art at the Dallas Museum of Art; Jeffrey Moore, director of Blue Star Art Space, San Antonio; Don Bacigalupi, curator at the San Antonio Museum of Art; Suzanne Weaver, assistant curator of contemporary art at the DMA; and Edmund P. Pillsbury, director of the Kimbell Art Museum.

500X has always been an alternative, experimental space for emerging artists seeking to make a name for themselves while avoiding the sales-driven gallery scene. In the beginning, it was also a response to artists’ dissatisfaction with area museums and their reluctance to show emerging artists.6 The gallery developed a reputation for doing things the way that artists wanted to do them. It offered a springboard to careers in Dallas’ major contemporary art scene, as well as a way to gain national and international visibility.

Artist and former member Celia Eberle remembers how 500X gave her the confidence to pursue a full-time career as an artist:

I found out about 500X from a seminar. . . . So I applied and they accepted me, and I was . . . delighted. I couldn’t believe that I was actually accepted by all these Dallas artists, and all of these . . . recent MFA grads, too, and that was . . . probably the most exciting thing that ever happened [to me] ultimately because I can’t remember being so excited ever in terms of art. . . . When I first joined 500X, I felt like I had found my long-lost tribe, I really did. It was . . . a great revelation for me personally, and it made me feel more confident about myself . . . to continue to explore the ideas that I already have.7

Over the years, 500X has been a gathering place for artists working in all media. It hosted performance art with early works by Pam Burnley-Schol (The Weaving, 1980) and Kenneth Havis (Death of the Machine, Rebirth of the Spirit, 1980), as well as the performance art series curated by Courtney Brown, Object: A Series of Seven Performances (2012). Video and new media art, like Ron Lowe’s exhibition Sound Art (1980) and member Keitha Lowrance’s Curtain (2001), and installation art, like Randall Garrett’s Transmissions (1995) and Rebecca Carter and Thomas Feulmer’s collaborative installation on view in the Project Space during Under New Management (2008), have all been an important part of the artist’s experience at 500X. Between exhibitions, the gallery also hosted symposiums and panel discussions on topics ranging from women’s place in the arts8 to the developing local art scene.9

One notable early exhibition, Left/Right: The Political Show, was organized on the occasion of the 1984 Republican National Convention (Fig. 3). Curated by 500X member Dwayne Carter, this group exhibition responded to the current political climate with work by JR Compton, David Didear, Bert L. Long Jr., Bill McLean, Greg Metz, Barbara Simcoe, and Toxic Shock and a performance by Victor Dada. The show was wildly popular—especially Metz’s piece in the main gallery, Reagan’s Temple of Doom, which was equal parts three-dimensional political cartoon and garish carnival ride entrance (Fig. 4). The installation earned Metz national attention: kudos from the art crowd and death threats and vandalism to his studio from others.

The all-female collective Toxic Shock (Frances Bagley, Julie Cohn, Linda Finnell, Debora Hunter, and Susan Magilow) included the sculptural piece Facecrimes: Two Jews, A Lesbian, and Other Famous People (Fig. 5). The work—an arrangement of plaster-cast self-portraits mounted on a wooden shelf with the title as an inscription—alludes to George Orwell's novel 1984 and also to a derogatory comment about diversity by former Secretary of the Interior James Watt.

Victor Dada—a performance art, poetry, and musical group active in the Deep Ellum art and music scene throughout the 1980s—performed Political Wrassling for Left/Right. Cofounded by Joe Stanco and Gary Deen, the group was established in 1972 in Stanco’s home on Victor Street. By 1979, Tom Henvey, Farley Scott, David Border, and Doak Boettiger had joined (Fig. 6). Victor Dada’s performance pieces originally involved banging pots and pans while reciting poetry and expanded to full-blown scripted performances as the group grew in size. Political Wrassling took place on Saturday night, August 18, at Café 500 in Deep Ellum (Fig. 7). The six-bout show featured American Henry B. Goode vs. the Soviet Ivan Badenov and the Reverend Y. B. Smart vs. G. O. Pithecus. In the Ladies’ Championship, Ms. Liberty Whippet, a “liberated woman,” battled it out with Mrs. Prudence Loving, a petite “total woman” who appeared ready for “wrassling” in a corset and underwear (Fig. 8, Fig. 9).10

Some of 500X’s most recognizable alumni include Vincent Falsetta, Otis Jones, Nic Nicosia, Frances Bagley, Tom Orr, Frank X. Tolbert 2, Randall Garrett, Tom Moody, Scott Barber, and Paul Booker. Other artists involved in the gallery include Texas darlings David Bates (a sale of one of his paintings is on the books), Joe Havel (1984), and James Surls, who curated the exhibition Houston at Dallas in 1980. That exhibition included work by Surls, his wife Charmaine Locke, John Alexander, Bert L. Long Jr., Jesse Lott, and Michael Tracy.11

The 1980s: An Explosion of Arts Activity

With 500X breaking ground, galleries in other parts of town saw the change in the air and began relocating to raw warehouse spaces on Elm, Main, and Canton Streets. Deep Ellum’s artistic activity came together in the 1980s, when all aspects of its personality coalesced and the neighborhood became a destination for music, art, and entertainment. Artists’ studios shared city blocks with some of Dallas’ most prestigious galleries like Delahunty, DW Gallery, and Conduit Gallery, and dual venues like Theatre Gallery and Club Dada provided exhibitions of visual art between sets by locally and nationally recognized musicians.

Nearly every year in the 1980s, a new gallery or alternative space opened, and many established Uptown galleries moved to the trendy new neighborhood in search of the raw, warehouse-inspired look popularized by New York’s SoHo galleries. Collector and gallery owner Ruth Wiseman was an early convert. As a docent at the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts in Fair Park, Wiseman got to know the artists who had studios across the street from the Museum. As early as 1976, she teamed up with artist David McCullough to establish the gallery Oura, Inc., at 839 1/2 Exposition Avenue as an extension of McCullough’s studio in the same location.12 Early exhibitions in this space included artists Jennie Haddad, Michael Tichansky (Fig. 10), Judith Williams (Fig. 11), Wayne Amerine, and McCullough. When Wiseman and McCullough parted ways as gallery owners in 1981, Wiseman went out on her own. From her namesake gallery at 2816 Main Street in the heart of Deep Ellum, Wiseman and her stable of artists witnessed the rise and fall of the neighborhood art scene (Fig. 12).

Two early spaces to open up shop in Deep Ellum were not typical commercial galleries. Gerald (Jerry) Lemke and Jo Ann and Mike Hart established Peregrine Press in 1981 as the city’s first professional art print shop. Katherine Milburn and Tom Piper soon joined the staff as curator and lithographer. At Peregrine, many of Dallas’ finest artists—including Roger Winter, Andrea Rosenberg, Dan Rizzie, and James Surls—had the opportunity to work in a variety of printing media, creating monotypes, limited-edition lithographs, and silkscreens. Originally located on the corner of Peak Street and Ross Avenue, Peregrine moved in 1984 to Main Street, where it remained until it closed in May 1990 due to financial difficulties. Peregrine also ran a gallery that was temporarily located in Crescent Court in Uptown from 1982 to 1992. When Peregrine closed, the printing equipment was donated to the University of North Texas School of the Arts in 1992 to establish the Print Research Institute of North Texas (P.R.I.N.T.).

Just north of Deep Ellum, Mary Ward, Patricia Meadows, and other members of the Artists’ Coalition of Texas (ACT) established D-Art in 1981 in a 24,000-square-foot renovated warehouse as an alternative space for local artists to exhibit their work. Patricia Meadows explains the origins of the organization:

I think we were all in a state of rebellion. . . . Some more gentle, some more aggressive, but yes, rebellion. And artists started to take control of their careers and their exhibition opportunities. . . . I found the old warehouse, and it was awful. I was too innocent to know what “as is” means. . . . It means it’s a wreck and nothing works.
So, it was an artist-run organization. We were volunteering on our time. We started fundraising because we had to pay the rent. More than that, we had to pay for repairs. In fact, I’m sure that somewhere there was a sign that says, “There’s an idiot woman on Swiss Avenue that if you’d tell her you can fix her roof she’ll pay you anything.”
Those were interesting years. And then we kind of got it under control and started having exhibitions. And they were uneven because they were not juried. They were to love the artist. They were to give artists opportunities. And in order to pay the rent, we charged a small fee for having an exhibition.13

D-Art became a kind of arts community center, hosting events and providing office space for more than 80 nonprofit organizations, including the USA Film Festival, the Mexican Cultural Center, and Texas Accountants and Lawyers for the Arts. By the 1990s, D-Art was known as the Dallas Visual Arts Center (DVAC) and had moved to a Victorian-style home down the street from its original location. Exhibitions focused on local and regional artists, and the annual Critics’ Choice exhibition gave emerging artists a chance to have their work assessed by local and national curators. As Edith Baker recalls, D-Art was a venue for the artists: “There was nothing like it. There’s no place that artists could go, they were just rejected back and forth from galleries to museums to everything. But there was one place where they could go and they would be accepted.”14 Directors included Vicki Meek, Katherine Wagner, and Joan Davidow, who led DVAC’s expansion into its current location in the Design District, where it is known as the Dallas Contemporary.

Deep Ellum welcomed another nonprofit space in 1982 when the Allen Street Gallery moved from Uptown to larger quarters at 2913 Canton Street in Deep Ellum. Allen Street focused primarily on supporting the photographic arts and was administered by the nonprofit Center for Visual Communications. Established in 1975 by a group of local photographers, it had the dual purpose of educating the public and providing a place where area photographers could show their work in a formal gallery setting. The recurring Third Sundays exhibitions, held on the third Sunday of every month, increased exposure for artists and invited them to sell their work directly to the public. Juried exhibitions like Photography in Dallas, 1978: Part III (Fig. 14) and the Texas Women’s Photography Show (1979) presented a broad glimpse of photography in Dallas and across the state. Allen Street also exhibited work in other media, including local artist David Bates’ MFA thesis show for Southern Methodist University in 1976 and The Myth, a thematic group show of works in all media by more than 30 local artists, also in 1976. Shortly after the gallery moved to Deep Ellum, it hosted Counter Angel in 1983, a one-woman performance adaptation of Jo Harvey Allen’s book The Beautiful Waitress, performed by the writer and directed by Joan Tewkesbury.15

In spring 1983, Allen Street Gallery expanded its board of directors to develop a broader base, and a full-time director was appointed in 1984. Within a year of moving to Deep Ellum, the new location proved to be too much to handle, and the gallery was forced to close. It reopened in 1984 at 4101 Commerce Street near Fair Park.

Delahunty Gallery opened its doors in Deep Ellum in 1982 in a warehouse at 2701 Canton Street formerly occupied by artist George T. Green. The gallery was established in 1974 by Laura Carpenter, Murray Smither, and Virginia Gable in Smither’s old gallery space on Allen Street. It then moved to Cedar Springs in Uptown. Delahunty showed work by national and international artists alongside local and regional talent. Artists who made a name there include Vernon Fisher, Nic Nicosia, Danny Williams, Dan Rizzie, and Robert (Daddy-O) Wade. The first exhibition at the Deep Ellum location was a group show of sculpture by Californian Michael Lucero, Italian Italo Scanga, and East Texan James Surls. Subsequent exhibitions included solo shows of Vernon Fisher (1982), Nic Nicosia (1983), Christo (1983), Tom Wesselmann sculpture (1983), and Danny Williams and Andy Warhol (1984). The gallery closed in 1984 when owner Laura Carpenter shifted focus to blue-chip artists under a new name, Carpenter + Hochman. As a result of the shake-up, Carpenter’s director Hiram Butler moved to Houston to open his own space with the help of two Delahunty artists, Vernon Fisher and James Surls.16

In 1983, DW Gallery (formerly DW Co-op) moved from its original location on the second level of a small building at the corner of McKinney and Hall Streets in Uptown to the second floor of the Herling Building at 3200 Main Street. In its spacious new 2,400-square-foot space, DW began to show more work, and its exhibitions included large-scale sculpture. The inaugural exhibition, Construction/Site, included work by gallery artists Linnea Glatt, John Hernandez, Rick Maxwell, Dalton Maroney, and Lee N. Smith.17 The artists installed large-scale works that emphasized the gallery’s increase in square footage. Glatt’s 12-by-8-foot structure, Form for a Place to Gather, had recently been on view in the meadow of the Connemara Conservancy Foundation north of Dallas (Fig. 29);18 Hernandez’s large-scale wall relief, Big Daddy, Dream Glass, was installed to be viewed in the round opposite Maxwell’s 12-foot-long triptych of colorful patterns, Barrio Barricades. Rounding out the exhibition were Maroney’s three 20-to-25-foot abstract boat forms and Smith’s two large canvases, Mud City and Spinning Lights and Electric Smoke.19

Subsequent exhibitions in DW’s Deep Ellum space included a solo show of David Bates (1983); Nancy Chambers: Constructions and Drawings (1984); Linda Finnell: Photographs (1984); Lee N. Smith III: Recent Works (1985); Julie Cohn and Susie Phillips: Recent Work (1986); and Martin Delabano: Recent Works (1987). The gallery closed in 1988 amid financial problems. Its final exhibition, The Last Show, was guest-curated by DW cofounder Linda Samuels Surls and featured work by the six other cofounders.20

The gallery district had officially migrated to Deep Ellum by the mid-1980s. A slew of galleries opened, starting with Nancy Whitenack’s Conduit Gallery in 1984. Whitenack had no prior gallery experience, and she remembers that opening the gallery was “kind of a leap of faith”:

I had to really learn everything about what you do to run a gallery. How you support artists, where you find clients, and the whole ball of wax. I was a teacher previously, and I have always loved the visual arts. I’ve been an inveterate gallery- and museum-goer all of my life, so that part I kind of knew about; but running a gallery is a whole different thing. It’s been quite a journey. I opened the gallery when the economy was in the tank. The good part of that, probably, is I had nowhere to go but up. I started in Deep Ellum on Elm Street, and my former husband and I worked on the space. We literally did the plumbing and all the sheetrocking. Every part of it was an enterprise that we put our blood, sweat, and tears into, so I feel like I can do most anything, out of necessity.21

Conduit has always focused on midcareer and established artists and programs. Its Project Room displayed experimental work by artists not represented by a gallery. Early exhibitions at the original location in Deep Ellum included Robert Barsamian: Paintings and Drawings (1988); The Self-Portrait (1988), which featured self-portraits by gallery and nongallery artists like Nancy Ferro, Laray Polk, Bill Haveron, Jack Mims, and John Hernandez; and the group exhibition Inquiring Minds Want to Know, which featured Core Fellows at the Glassell School of Art in Houston--Bill Davenport, Aaron Parazette, and Paul Francis Forsythe (1994). Conduit Gallery earned a reputation for strong exhibitions in a variety of media: The Language of Sculpture: An Outdoor Exhibition of Works by Yonekichi Tanaka and Tom Orr, with small works on view in the gallery (1996); Other Systems: New Paintings by Vincent Falsetta (1998); Delabano: Full Circle (2000); and Susie Phillips Travels Abroad (2001). In 2002, the gallery was one of the first to move into the Design District, where many galleries have since relocated.

Barry Whistler, a former director of Delahunty Gallery, opened his namesake gallery just down the street from Conduit in 1985. At Delahunty, Whistler had gained valuable experience working under Laura Carpenter and Murray Smither, and many Texas artists represented by Delahunty ended up with Whistler when Carpenter shifted her focus.22 Whistler attended North Texas State University (now the University of North Texas) and worked as a preparator at the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts and the Fort Worth Art Center (now the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth). A two-year stint at Ace Gallery in Los Angeles gave him the experience he needed to take the helm of Delahunty in 1979.23 Whistler Gallery has focused on midcareer and established regional artists, representing well-known Dallas and Texas artists Scott Barber, Linnea Glatt, Toni LaSelle, Tom Orr, John Pomara, Andrea Rosenberg, John Wilcox, and Danny Williams. It is the kind of space local emerging artists aspire to, understanding that a spot on Whistler’s roster means the artist has made it in the Texas art world (Fig. 16, Fig. 17).

Soon restaurants, bars, and music venues started filling in the gaps between galleries and artist studios, expanding Deep Ellum’s identity as an entertainment district. Savvy entrepreneurs saw the value in the crosspollination of music and the visual arts. Russell Hobbs opened Theatre Gallery in a Commerce Street warehouse in August 1984. The space doubled as a visual arts gallery and performance venue for New Wave musicians and was important to the developing music scene and the neighborhood’s revival. Using the slogan “Throw away your polo shirt and become the artist you always wanted to be!” Theatre Gallery hosted nationally recognized groups like the Flaming Lips, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Jane’s Addiction and gave local artists like Bill Haveron, Ron English, and Jeff Robinson exhibitions between musical sets.

Members of the performance collective Victor Dada established Club Dada in 1986 as a permanent home for performance art in Dallas (Fig. 18). After years of a nomadic existence, performing in a variety of spaces—Paperbacks Plus bookstore in Mesquite (1981), DW Gallery (1982), the Stoneleigh P Bar (1982), and the Bath House Cultural Center—they purchased a building at 2720 Elm Street. Like Theatre Gallery, Club Dada doubled as a performance art and music venue that helped launch the career of the Dallas-based band New Bohemians, led by singer-songwriter Edie Brickell,24 while giving performance artists a place that welcomed the strange and avant-garde. During Monday Night Feedback at Club Dada, the sound on the bar’s television was turned down during regular football programming to allow Gary Deen and Farley Scott to improvise their own commentary. Weird Wednesdays featured “spontaneous music”—collaborations between musical acts like BL Lacerta and the audience.25 In 1991, artist and gallery owner John Held Jr. performed Invisible Impressions, a work in which Held and fellow artist Paula Maples rubber-stamped each other with invisible ink that became visible under certain conditions on stage.26 In later years, Club Dada became more focused on musical acts. It closed in 2003, reopening several years later under new ownership.

Eugene Binder was established in May 1986 in the space that had been occupied by Laura Carpenter's Carpenter + Hochman. Binder’s experience as a gallery owner and art dealer was quite extensive by the time he established his own space. Born and raised in a suburb of Detroit, he moved to Texas in the late 1960s to attend Northwood Institute, where he took art history courses taught by the Fort Worth Art Center’s Henry Hopkins. While at Northwood, Binder started working for artist Chapman Kelley at his Atelier Chapman Kelley and slowly became involved in the Dallas art scene, doing odd jobs for artists Alberto Collie and Mac Whitney.27 He parlayed the connections he made in Dallas into a position as assistant curator at the Laguna Gloria Museum of Art in Austin, where he was responsible for the 1978 major career retrospective of minimalist artist Carl Andre.28 Before returning to Dallas in 1984, Binder worked as the director of former Dallas gallery owner Janie C. Lee’s Houston gallery, helping to organize major exhibitions by Jasper Johns and Joan Mitchell.

Laura Carpenter hired Binder in 1984 to direct her Dallas gallery Carpenter + Hochman,29 an offshoot of Delahunty Gallery established when Carpenter expanded her business to New York and narrowed her focus to blue-chip artists. Binder organized exhibitions of work by David Hockney (1985), Piet Mondrian (1985), Dan Rizzie (1985), Christo (1986), and others. The new focus and dual locations proved to be too much for Carpenter, who was forced to close in 1986. Binder remained in the location until he could establish a gallery that would be independent of the Carpenter legacy:

Well, I actually didn’t open my own space. She [Carpenter] shut down and I asked her if she’d lease me the building and she came up with this number. At the time, I thought this was okay. And so for the rest of the year, I was in there, or maybe not even a year, it was maybe like March through December. And then I had a temporary space while this other building was being renovated, a building of David Gibson’s, which was interestingly enough a former bindery.30

As owner and director of his own space, Binder opened with an exhibition of eight contemporary Italian artists, including Francesco Clemente, who was concurrently the subject of a solo exhibition at the Dallas Museum of Art.31 Later exhibitions at Binder’s gallery featured a variety of regional and national talent, including Oak Cliff artist Bill Haveron (1987); works on paper by David Bates (1989); Dallas-based artist Sam Gummelt (1989); New York–based artists Ann McCoy (1989) (Fig. 19) and Jonathan Lasker (1992); and University of Texas at Dallas professor John Pomara (1994).

In April 1990, understanding the business adage of grow or be stagnant, Binder expanded to Germany, opening the Binder Galerie in Cologne with the Texas Show. Featuring artists from Binder’s stable—Dan Rizzie, David Bates, Sam Gummelt, Barbara Simcoe, Ken Luce, and Gregory Horndeski—the exhibition brought a taste of Texas to the German art market. As Binder explained, “it’s pretty much a given that everybody from Buddy Holly to Van Cliburn can’t get any recognition unless they leave Texas. The point was to get the artists I’m representing into a different setting [and] out of the stigma of regionalism.”32 Subsequent exhibitions at Binder Galerie included solo shows of Australian artist Andreas Tschinkl and Dallas artist Sam Gummelt and the group show Outsider Art, featuring work by naïve, primarily African-American, painters. By 1992, the economy forced Binder to rethink his German location, and he formed a loose alliance with German dealers Gunar Barthel and Tobias Tetzner, who took the lead on the Cologne space.33 In Dallas, Binder maintained the Eugene Binder space for another four years before closing in 1996 and moving to Marfa in West Texas, where he currently resides and continues to organize exhibitions at his namesake space.

As an alternative to commercial galleries, artists could get involved with the Hickory Street Annex. In 1989, Richard Brettell, Dallas Museum of Art director, and Jeff Kelley, director of the Center for Research in Contemporary Art at the University of Texas at Arlington, proposed an offsite extension of the Dallas Museum of Art that would offer cutting-edge programs not always possible or appropriate for a museum’s primary exhibition space. The focus was to be contemporary artists working and living in the region, with spaces designed to support work that did not fit within the confines of a traditional gallery (Fig. 20). When funding failed to materialize, artists took over the space and ran it themselves. In 1990, local artist Frances Bagley curated the exhibition The Vessel, a group show featuring different artists’ interpretations of the subject. The catalogue had full-color illustrations and an essay by Brettell. Other artist-organized exhibitions included Escape from New York (1991), with work by Ludwig Schwarz, Laura Wilson, and Elise Cohen (Fig. 21). Shawn Patrick Anderson and Christopher Todd Hogg established the Museum of Agenda and Transgression (M.O.A.T.) in 1994 in the lower level of the Hickory Street Annex. The gallery showed multimedia installations dealing with the icons, ideas, and issues of pop culture. Exhibitions featured John Hernandez, Helen Altman, Joe Allen, Joe Havel, and Pamela Nelson.

The 1990s and Beyond

Increased development had pushed many artists out of Deep Ellum by the early 1990s. Patricia Meadows remembers a moment that characterizes the atmosphere at the time:

Once a year there would be an Art Walk which went over a weekend. . . . And so it was a great two days, but it was also a little tough. At the end of the weekend we would all meet at the Sons of Hermann Hall, and . . . they would open it up and have music and gumbo. And it was sunset, and the cool breeze had just started. I was sitting on the fire escape, and there were people below—artists, friends. Somebody had a guitar, everybody was singing. It was such a community moment, it was just so dear, an innocent community moment where you just go, “I know these people, I love these people. We are all crazy, there is no way to explain why I’m here,” but it was . . . an innocent moment.
And you realize, because city code was gearing up to turn all of those artists out, Deep Ellum was beginning to become sort of a SoHo, chi-chi area. The rents were going up, the artists were going to have to leave, and they did. They were all sort of dispersed in the next two or three years.
But it was a community moment that was really sweet and innocent, and people were just working hard toward a goal of getting the art out there. It was lovely.34

Several commercial galleries and nonprofit spaces kept the neighborhood of Deep Ellum an active art community through the 1990s. David Szafranski and Vance Wingate, two University of North Texas alums and former members of 500X, established Gray Matters Gallery in 1991 (Fig. 22). The inaugural exhibition was a group show of artists who would remain staples of the Gray Matters roster: Szafranski, Wingate, Celia Eberle, John Hernandez, Mike Kennedy, Dottie Allen (Love), Tom Sale, Sherry Owens, Connie Cullum, Trish Nickell, Randy Bolton, and Tom Moody. Off and on for nearly 15 years, Gray Matters was the place to see cutting-edge work by emerging and midcareer artists working in North Texas. On the extensive list of artists who have shown with Gray Matters are some of Dallas’ most recognizable artists of the younger generation, including artist duo Chuck & George (Brian K. Jones and Brian K. Scott), CJ Davis, Brad Ford Smith, and Noah Simblist (Fig. 23, Fig. 24). Szafranski and Wingate thought of Gray Matters as an alternative space more than a commercial gallery, and they never made large profits. What mattered to them was presenting challenging work and giving artists opportunities to take chances.

Gray Matters Gallery represents a time in Dallas when a generation of artists and writers coming out of UNT were getting together, working, and exhibiting in venues around the city. These artists were considered just shy of warranting the attention of major established galleries like Barry Whistler or Gerald Peters Fine Art. Taking advantage of their status below the radar, they did their own thing without the pressure that comes with forcing a career as a professional artist. Many who got their start at Gray Matters have gone on to gain representation at major North Texas galleries. Though Gray Matters officially closed in 2005, Wingate still organizes exhibitions and enables other local artists and curators to put together shows of their own in an environment that is still buzzing with the energy it had some 15 years ago.

Founded in 1992, 5501 Columbia Art Center was a nonprofit community space featuring an interdisciplinary program with topics ranging from books to arts to jazz. One of its two inaugural shows, Forever Yes: Art of the New Tattoo (Fig. 25), explored the aesthetics of body art. The center’s mission reflected a larger movement in the contemporary art scene during the 1990s to examine the diversity of identity. From 1995 until its closing in 2001, it housed the Texas African-American Photography Collection and Archive, now run by Dallas nonprofit organization Documentary Arts, Inc.

Deep Ellum in the New Millennium

During the 1990s, arts activity in Deep Ellum suffered somewhat, as the neighborhood was always on the edge of crime and the demimonde culture of decades past surfaced once again. Sculptor duo Tom Orr and Frances Bagley, together with Dallas artist Albert Scherbarth, had taken control of the 100-year-old Continental Gin Building at 3309 Elm Street in 1986 and spent the next six years renovating it for use as artist studios. In 1992, the first artist signed a lease there, and by 1997, the 60,000-square-foot building was home to 30 artists and hosted annual Open Studio tours (Fig. 26).35 The Continental Gin Building helped maintain local artists’ ties to Deep Ellum through the slow decline of the 1990s and bridged the gap between the 1980s heyday and the neighborhood’s resurgence in the new millennium.

In 2006, Dallasite Christina Rees opened the gallery Road Agent at 2909 Canton Street. A former director of Angstrom Gallery and former writer and editor for local publications The Met, D Magazine, and the Dallas Observer, Rees had developed an aptitude for spotting emerging talent. Her gallery focused on emerging and midcareer artists. It featured group thematic exhibitions like Ambush: Stand and Deliver (2006), which pulled together a group of unannounced artists with fresh work each week over the summer; the group exhibition The Audience Is Listening (2007); and solo exhibitions by New York sculptor Ryan Humphrey (2006), Denton-based Elliott Johnson (2006), Los Angeles abstract painter Evan Lintermans (2006), Fort Worth sculptor Bradly Brown (2006), and Dallas sculptor and installation artist Margaret Meehan (2008). The financial crisis in 2008 had a deep impact on many gallery owners, including Rees, who closed Road Agent with the group show Party at the Moontower. The loss of midrange buyers and the increased conservatism of high-end collectors left little room for a gallery like Road Agent, whose focus on emerging artists and experimental work was deemed too risky for this changing collector market. Galleries that survived the 2008 market crash were either well established or, like Brian Gibb and Mark Searcy’s Art Prostitute, had developed a niche market in Dallas.

Gibb and Searcy are graduates of the University of North Texas, where they both studied art and communication design. Gibb recalls how he eventually decided on this focus:

I studied drawing and painting and communication design kind of simultaneously until I got to a point where Vincent Falsetta was like, “Okay, you’ve got it. You’ve got to pick a team. You can’t do both. You’d be splitting your focus. . . .” So I actually decided to finish my degree in communication design because to me I knew that my interest in art and studio practice and making things . . . was going to continue on with me regardless.36

The young artists’ decision to pursue graphic design provoked negative attention from some of their friends and colleagues, who accused the pair of selling out. So when they parlayed their interests into a sleek quarterly magazine, they named it Art Prostitute (Fig. 27). As Searcy explained, “the whole premise is that you can be an artist and make money.”37 Gibb described how the idea came about:

[Mark] and I had a lot in common. We’re both skateboarders. We both like art. We both made art. Art very much influenced what we did on a design level and vice versa. . . . We just started talking about doing a publication. At the time, there is this sort of thing that was happening where artists were being commissioned to do things like sneakers and apparel lines and stuff like that. Obviously, the crossover between art and skateboarding and skateboard graphics, people like Ed Templeton and Evan Hecox, artists like that were really big influences.38

Launched in 2003, Art Prostitute featured artists Gibb described as occupying that crossover space between art and skateboarding, including formerly underground street artists Shepard Fairey and Dave Kinsey. A year after the publication’s debut, Gibb and Searcy opened a gallery by the same name at 210 Hickory Street in Denton, where they displayed the work of artists featured in their magazine and sold it at a variety of price points. The inaugural exhibition Roll Call featured handprinted skateboard decks, silkscreened book covers, and prints, all priced between $40 and $1,000.39 In 2006, Gibb and Searcy decided to move their gallery to Deep Ellum.40

Art Prostitute’s first exhibition in the new location included paintings by Los Angeles artist Dave Kinsey. Among the gallery’s other shows were Regal Row (2006)—featuring new work by Oregon painter Evan B. Harris, Dallas painters Mark Nelson and Will Rhoten, and California-based painter Joseph Stein—and Low Tech High Life (2006), featuring new work by Californians Jeremy Fish, Mel Kadel, and Travis Millard and Austin painter Michael Sieben. In 2007, Searcy left the gallery to pursue a career in Portland. Gibb continued the space under the new name The Public Trust. The duo’s magazine Art Prostitute published its final issue in 2006.

Like its predecessor, The Public Trust showcases emerging and established artists and limited-edition prints. Examples of the gallery’s diverse program are group exhibitions like On Solid Ground: A Group Exhibition of Work by Kevin Bell, Colin Chillag, Christi Haupt, and Steven Larson (2009), which brought together artists from all over the globe to explore the idea of place, real and imagined; a solo exhibition of the work of nature illustrator-painter Charley Harper (2009); and the recent exhibition of prints by Shepard Fairey (2012).

Newcomers Kirk Hopper Fine Art and Liliana Bloch Gallery offer Deep Ellum distinctly different experiences with contemporary art. Dallasite Kirk Hopper established his gallery in 2011 as a space for local midcareer and established artists. Its inaugural exhibition was a solo show of work by large-scale abstract sculptor Mac Whitney, while subsequent exhibitions have included the group exhibition Sex/Twist (2011), featuring work by artists who visually represented French philosopher Michel Foucault’s History of Sexuality; Forrest Bess: 100 Years (2011), featuring Texas painter Forrest Bess alongside artists who were influenced by or worked with him; and Between Heaven and Earth: New Work by Roger Winter (2012).

Liliana Bloch Gallery, the newest addition to the neighborhood, opened its doors in the spring of 2013. Bloch stepped out on her own based on her experience as director of McKinney Avenue Contemporary in Uptown and Kirk Hopper Fine Art. Artists in the gallery’s diverse stable include Vietnamese Du Chau; Salvadoran Mayra Barraza; Dallasites Ann Glazer, Vince Jones, Sally Warren, and Iranian-born Mona Kasra; Fort Worth-based Leticia Huckaby; and New Yorker Ryan Sarah Murphy, who inaugurated Bloch’s gallery with a show of her found-object collages.

The Power Station opened in 2011 with an exhibition by Los Angeles painter Oscar Tuazon. As a nonprofit exhibition and educational space, The Power Station operates outside the mainstream commercial gallery system, bringing to Dallas artists whose work defies commodification. Installations like Deluxe (2012) by Virginia Overton, whose pickup truck in the gallery was sculptural gesture, and Drip Event (2013) by Tobias Madison, Emanuel Rossetti, and Stefan Tcherepnin, who installed a self-circulating water system throughout the two levels that created a shallow lake on the second level, are examples of work that commercial galleries do not typically support. Educational programs—like the video art series Four Nights Four Decades, curated by local artists and professors Michael Morris, Nadav Assor, Benjamin Lima, and Jenny Vogel—are another aspect of The Power Station’s diverse offerings.

Recent University of Texas at Arlington graduate Kevin Rubén Jacobs established Oliver Francis Gallery (OFG) in 2011.41 Located at 209 South Peak Street in East Dallas just north of Deep Ellum, the intimate space is dedicated to showing experimental work by emerging and established artists, local and international. Exhibitions have featured a variety of media: installation, new media, performance, and conceptual art, with solo exhibitions of artists like painter and recent Rhode Island School of Design MFA graduate Francisco Moreno (2011), Dallasite Jeff Zilm (2011), and Berlin-based conceptual sculptor Rachel de Joode (2012). Group exhibitions include SNAFU (2012), with work by artists Darja Bajagić, Andrew Birk, Kasumi Chow, Kristen Cochran, CJ Davis, Lauren Elder, Desiree Espada, Claire Fontaine, Michael Mazurek, Drew Olivo, Lana Paninchul, Michelle Rawlings, Ludwig Schwarz, Kevin Todora, Michael Wynne, and Jeff Zilm. Off-site curatorial installations have included She Was Long Gone by New York artist Kristin Oppenheim and Perishabel, featuring artists Pierre Krause, Nick DeMarco, and Luis Miguel Bendaña, as part of Deep Ellum Windows in spring 2013; and the group exhibition Skim Milk at Interstate Projects in Brooklyn, New York, in summer 2013. OFG has also collaborated with local artist collectives such as HOMECOMING! Committee42 of Fort Worth for the group exhibition and performance competition Hands on an Art Body (2012) and Dick Higgins Gallery43 for the group exhibition DB12 Volume 1 (2012).

Today Deep Ellum retains some of the same qualities that helped put it on the map in the 1980s: a vibrant music scene at venues like Club Dada and the Prophet Bar and an equally vibrant contemporary arts scene. The continued success of Barry Whistler Gallery and The Public Trust help keep the commercial gallery system relevant to national and international trends in contemporary art, with Kirk Hopper Fine Art and Liliana Bloch Gallery rounding out the neighborhood’s strong group of commercial galleries. Experimental and artist-run spaces like the established 500X and newcomers The Power Station and Oliver Francis Gallery continue to introduce Dallas audiences to alternative experiences created by local and international emerging and midcareer artists in a variety of media.

9) On October 25, 1980, 500X hosted “Critical Inquiry Dallas 1980,” a symposium that posed the question, “Is this city ever going to make it as a place for artists?” Participants included artists Kenneth Harvis, Frank Tolbert, Frances Bagley, and Vernon Fisher; Sue Graze of the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts; Sue Freudenheim of the Fort Worth Art Museum; Ron Lowe, 500X director; Barry Whistler, Delahunty Gallery director; JR Compton, Texas Arts Revue editor and publisher; Michael Ennis of Texas Monthly; David Dillon of D Magazine; Janet Kutner of the Dallas Morning News; and Bill Marvel of the Dallas Times Herald. Major topics were museums' responsibilities to local artists, how artists get exhibited in major gallery shows, and Dallas collectors and the fragmented nature of the local Dallas art community.

The topic that garnered the greatest attention from both panelists and audience was the way the city handled the controversy over a recent juried exhibition at City Hall organized by the City Arts Program (see the DallasSITES essay on the Arts District, paragraph 17). The jury resigned after claiming there wasn’t enough art to make a decent exhibition, and a second jury selected a show from the original entries. Questions at the symposium centered on whether the city should be mounting art exhibits, whether art exhibits should be democratic, and whether the city has the capability to judge “good” from “bad” art. For a transcript and summary, see Texas Arts Revue 6 (1980): 10–18, 500X Gallery Records, 1966–1996, Dallas Museum of Art Archives.

Essentially, the symposium gave local artists an opportunity to vent their frustrations about the ways the city chose to support its artists and artistic culture. Many audience members and panelists voiced opinions about the city’s apparent lack of interest in local artists for public art commissions. They were being bypassed for international and national artists with bigger names, like Robert Irwin or Henry Moore. The symposium closed with remarks from panelists and audience members on the current lack of community support for regional and local art in Dallas.

22) Whistler had a long history with Delahunty. He was first hired as an installer for the gallery’s art services department in 1974, between preparator positions at the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts (1971–1974) and the Fort Worth Art Center (1974–1978). He rejoined Delahunty in November 1979 as an assistant director, a position he held until he was promoted to director in 1980. In 1982, Whistler’s title changed to gallery manager, and he remained with Delahunty until Carpenter shifted the gallery focus and reopened under Carpenter + Hochman in 1984, effectively closing Delahunty. In the year between leaving Delahunty and opening Barry Whistler Gallery, Whistler started an art services company, which he continued to run as a side service through his gallery until 1989. Barry Whistler Resume, Dallas Museum of Art Archives; Janet Kutner, “The Gallery Gamble—Delahunty Changes Will Alter Art Scenes in Dallas, Houston,” Dallas Morning News, September 2, 1984; Kutner, “A Showcase for Texas Art: Contemporary Gallery Opens in Deep Ellum to a Warm Welcome,” Dallas Morning News, October 12, 1985, 1F.

Arts District–Downtown: A City’s Cultural Dream Come True

Business and the arts converge in Downtown Dallas. Major corporations have their headquarters in the skyscrapers that have become a symbol for the city’s status as a growing and successful business center, while artists, galleries, alternative spaces, and leading arts institutions fuel an energetic, varied arts scene. The Main Street District—one of eight districts in Downtown (Fig. 27)1—was the original city center and the first area where the arts thrived. Although the creation of the Arts District spurred a revitalization of Downtown in 1984 with the opening of the Dallas Museum of Art, the arts have always had a dynamic presence there.

The intersection of business and the arts in Downtown Dallas started as early as the 1930s, when Neiman Marcus introduced the Decorative Galleries on the fourth floor of its Main Street flagship store and staged exhibitions of paintings, sculpture, photography, and works on paper.2 The tradition of showing fine art in a department store setting was well established by the time the galleries opened, and for many years they were one of the few places to look at art Downtown.3

After World War II, Dallas joined the nationwide population movement from cities to suburbs, as families and businesses relocated to communities to the north and west. Improved roads and new major highways connected these peripheral areas, and the automobile reigned supreme. With the conveniences offered in suburban shopping malls like Preston Shopping Center and Raymond Nasher’s NorthPark Center,4 suburban residents no longer needed to shop in the Central Business District. The bustling street life that once characterized Downtown Dallas slowly became a thing of the past.

The 1950s and 1960s

The 1950s and early 1960s were a relatively quiet period for the arts in Downtown Dallas. There were more galleries and artists in the neighboring area of Uptown and outside Fair Park because of the activity around the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts (1956–1963) and the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts. When the two institutions merged in 1963,5 local galleries became the place to view contemporary art. The city experienced a gallery boom along Maple Avenue, McKinney Avenue, Fairmount Street, and Cedar Springs Road in Uptown in the 1960s.6 The growing gallery system eventually spread to other neighborhoods, with several galleries opening in Downtown in the mid- to late 1960s.

In 1962, Mr. and Mrs. Van L. Stokes opened the Downtown Gallery in the Hartford Insurance Building at 1919 Pacific Avenue in the Main Street District. Established to exhibit the work of local professional artists, the gallery debuted with a show of work by Lea Steinnasser, David Hanna, and Buddy Mitterman.7 For several years, it was one of the only fine art galleries in the area. By 1969, the neighborhood had welcomed two new spaces: the Main Place Gallery, which opened in a new office tower at One Main Place in 1968 and specialized in contemporary American, European, and regional art, and Mr. and Mrs. Bill Burford’s Texas Art Gallery, which opened in the Adolphus Hotel at 1400 Main Street in 1969 and emphasized western and Texas regional art.

Donald Vogel was president of the Main Place Gallery, an extension of his first gallery, Valley House in North Dallas.8 Directed by Charles Sikes, who was assisted by Colette Weber and Violet Hayden Dowell, Main Place gave Vogel more square footage and the freedom to try new things.9 Group exhibitions featured Valley House artists like Michael Frary, Kelly Fearing, Loren Mozley, and Charles Umlauf, as well as new artists whose work was more appropriate for the new space. Its high ceilings could accommodate large-scale sculpture by artists like Canadian sculptor Sorel Etrog; New York sculptor Thea Tewi, who worked in fine natural materials like marble and onyx; and Kansas native Mac Whitney, who has since made a career in large-scale steel sculpture, working in Ovilla, Texas. The hardship of running two galleries took its toll on Vogel, and he closed Main Place Gallery in 1973 with an exhibition of primitive artifacts.10

With the gallery district well established in Uptown, there were fewer places for young and emerging artists to showcase their work in Downtown Dallas. By the late 1970s, there was only one gallery left in the neighborhood. In 1978, local artists and artist rights advocates John Schrup and Sally Tobin established the Gallery for Dallas Artists, tucked inside the Jas. K. Wilson Co. department store at 1515 Main Street. Exhibits were organized under the auspices of the local chapter of Artists Equity,11 of which Schrup and Tobin were members. The inaugural exhibition included work by Artists Equity members Jeanne Mason Koch, Ruth Natinsky, Annelies Kahn, Laurence Scholder, and James Allumbaugh.12 During the year the gallery was open, it hosted exhibitions by Rowena Elkin, Linda Finnell, Dana Smith, Carlos Vargas, Susan Schiels, and Carol Wilder, all Dallas artists.13

The establishment of El Centro College in the West End Historic District in 1966 helped liven up the streets of Downtown Dallas.14 In its first year, the flagship campus of the Dallas County Junior College District organized a festival celebrating the work of students and faculty in music, drama, art, and speech. The Echo Lounge, the college’s fine art gallery, gave students and faculty the opportunity to organize exhibitions and display their work. Over the years, many of Dallas’ most recognizable artists, including James Stover, Arthur Koch, David Bates, and Sharon Corgan Leeber, have taken classes or taught at El Centro.

The re-emergence of the arts in Downtown Dallas during the late 1960s was indirectly a result of a single event that remains a scar on the city’s history: the 1963 assassination of President John F. Kennedy.15 Dallas became known as the City of Hate, as the nation blamed it for the tragedy. Arlinda Abbott describes the atmosphere:

[It was a] tormented town. . . . When . . . Kennedy was assassinated, . . . Dallas’ pride in her civic center was in jeopardy. The proud cradle of the city’s history suddenly became a murder site recognized throughout the world. Public opinion polls, conducted shortly after the assassination, indicated over 80 percent of Americans had indicted “the people of Dallas” for the crime. . . . After the assassination, Dallas residents were harassed—telephone operators disconnected long-distance calls and restaurants refused service.16

In 1964, newly elected Mayor Erik Jonsson proposed Goals for Dallas, a program to revitalize the city’s image that was put into place by 1966 with the help of prominent citizens.17 One of the most important goals was this one: “We demand a city of beauty and functional fitness that embraces the quality of life for all its people."18 In 1967 Jonsson persuaded the citizens of Dallas to pass a $175 million bond issue to finance the construction of three civic buildings: the Dallas City Hall, the Dallas Convention Center, and the Dallas Central Library.19 To launch the rebranding of Dallas, city officials commissioned architect I. M. Pei to design City Hall.20 Over the next decade, Pei designed four more buildings for Downtown Dallas.21

The 1970s

The decade of the 1970s saw significant change in Downtown, both in infrastructure and in the arts. The city center began to grow vertically, as construction on some of the city’s most recognizable skyscrapers was started or completed. Several areas were revitalized amid the demolition and new construction, notably the West End Historic District (then described as the warehouse district of Downtown) and the Government District on the southern edge of Downtown.

Pei’s horizontal design for City Hall at 1500 Marilla Street included a large plaza with a circular pool and group of oak trees that faced the cantilevered façade. After completion of the building in 1977, discussion of a sculpture commission for the plaza began and soon centered on the British sculptor Henry Moore. After meetings among Pei, Moore, city official George Schrader, and local arts patrons, Moore was offered the commission. The sculptor had a congenial relationship with local art collectors Raymond and Patsy Nasher and with Dallas Museum of Fine Arts board member Margaret McDermott, who were all instrumental in securing the commission.22 Moore’s large-scale Three-Piece Sculpture: Vertebrae (The Dallas Piece) (Fig. 28) was installed in 1978.

Reaction to Dallas’ first major public sculpture was mostly positive, although one city official was initially resistant. Even before the work was in place, City Councilman William Cothrum bemoaned the choice of Moore, fearing that the sculpture would be too avant-garde for Texans: “The few works I’ve seen by the man . . . I’m not impressed with. . . . They’re a little too abstract to me and probably the average Dallas citizen. . . . I like things with a little more straight lines and rectangles, but that’s probably just my background in civil engineering.”23 His remarks were picked up by the Associated Press and published in the New York Times, making Dallas appear to the nation as conservative and closed-minded to contemporary art. In spite of Cothrum’s comments, the overall public reaction to the Moore piece encouraged the City of Dallas to continue with the idea of art in public places.24

Once City Hall was completed, Dallas began to showcase local art talent there. In 1978, the City Hall Arts Committee organized Dallas Art ’78, which opened March 11 (Fig. 1). The 11-member committee, chaired by Irvin Levy, was a mix of Dallas arts benefactors, gallery owners, and artists, including Margaret McDermott, Billie Marcus, John D. Murchison, Arthello Beck, and Donald Vogel.25 The committee selected 40 Dallas artists to display their work in the corridors and lobby of the new building for the entire year.26 The concept was repeated the following year with Dallas Art ’79, although aspects of the program were adjusted. A three-member jury—Dallasite Paul Rogers Harris, director of the Waco Art Center; John Palmer Leeper, director of the McNay Art Institute in San Antonio; and Fort Worth Art Museum curator Marge Goldwater—selected work by 42 artists from a pool of more than 300 entries. The judges also awarded six prizes with funding from the Billie Marcus Memorial Fund27 of the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts. Award winners included painters Richard Shaffer28 and Jill Glover,29 photographer Daniel Barsotti,30 and sculptors Mac Whitney,31 Herb Rogalla,32 and Raffaele Martini.33

The third Dallas Art exhibition at City Hall—Dallas Art III—was the most controversial, and consequently it would be the last (Fig. 2). Jurors Ron Gleason, director of the Tyler Museum of Art; Linda Cathcart, director of the Contemporary Arts Museum of Houston; and John Biggers, Houston-based artist and educator, reviewed 1,200 slides of work by more than 200 artists, but they were unable to select an exhibition because it was their collective opinion that the entries lacked quality. Gleason noted that the jurors “realized we were faced with pretty poor quality, and when we went back through the slides another time, we decided it would be a disservice to show the few good works submitted in that important a space or in company with other works of lesser quality.”34 Unwilling to abandon the project, Cultural Affairs Division35 administrators hastily organized a second jury, consisting of Laurence Scholder, Dallas printmaker and SMU professor; Lyle Novinski, local artist and chairman of the University of Dallas art department; and Deborah Papathanasiou, owner and director of the local Frontroom Craft Gallery.36 The second jury was able to select 60 works by 51 artists and award prizes to Linnea Glatt,37 David McCullough,38 Ann Lee Stautberg,39 Gilda Pervin,40 Dianne Taylor, and Jennie Haddad.41 Although the exhibition did get off the ground, the controversy prevented a wary Cultural Affairs Division from sponsoring the project for a fourth year.42

Developing an Arts District

In 1977, the City of Dallas and nine cultural groups hired urban planner Kevin Lynch of Carr, Lynch Associates in Boston to investigate ways to revitalize Dallas’ business-centered downtown.43 Lynch concluded that the city would benefit from having all of its cultural institutions situated in one easily accessible place. The report concluded that “most of the city-wide arts institutions should in time relocate to a central location downtown for better access to all members of the community and because this best fits the needs of the institutions themselves.”44 The specific location—the north side of the Central Business District—was selected over areas like Fair Park for its neutral status: “It is accessible to everyone, is nobody’s turf, provides good public transportation, and might make downtown come alive 24 hours rather than just during the day.”45

At the time of the study, the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts was looking for a new location. The building had been expanded in 1965 under director Merrill Rueppel, but it was still too small to accommodate the growing collection and exhibition program. The Museum needed larger quarters, and director Harry S. Parker III was determined to see it happen. With the results of the study, Parker and the DMFA Board had a suggested location for the city’s new cultural hub. But the 1978 defeat of a bond proposal to fund new buildings for the DMFA and the Dallas Symphony Orchestra and the renovation of the Majestic Theatre threatened to end the idea of an Arts District.46 In anticipation of passing a revised bond package, the DMFA obtained options on key tracts of land in the area suggested by Carr, Lynch and accrued private financial commitments totaling several million dollars. A nonstop promotional media campaign raised public awareness of the revised program and helped ensure a victory (Fig. 3). The Museum moved forward quickly after voters approved the $24.8 million bond issue in November 1979.47 The Dallas Arts District was born in 1984 when the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts—renamed the Dallas Museum of Art—moved into its new building on North Harwood Street, designed by world-renowned architect Edward Larrabee Barnes.48

The 1980s

For several years, the Dallas Museum of Art was the only cultural institution in the developing Arts District.49 Even before the Museum opened to the public, curators and staff were readying the new space through acquisitions, promised gifts, and major commissions. Sue Graze had been appointed contemporary curator after Robert Murdock departed in 1978.50 Graze joined the DMFA in 1976 as a Rockefeller Fellow in the education department and stayed on, working in the department of the registrar and with Murdock. In her new role as curator in 1981, she implemented the long-standing Concentrations series of small exhibitions, which surveyed the depth and range of contemporary artists’ work. The series was well under way by the time the DMA opened in the Arts District.51 The first Concentrations show there was large-scale sculpture by Dalton Maroney, installed in the new sculpture garden.52 Working with architect Barnes, Graze was actively involved in commissioning site-specific works for the building from Claes Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen (Fig. 4), Scott Burton,53 Richard Fleischner,54 Ellsworth Kelly (Fig. 5), and Sol LeWitt (Fig. 6). During her tenure, she helped expand the permanent contemporary art collections with major acquisitions of works by internationally recognized artists Carl Andre,55 Martin Puryear (Fig. 7), Mario Merz,56 Robert Mapplethorpe,57 Chris Burden (Fig. 8), and Richard Prince,58 as well by local artists Nic Nicosia,59 David Bates (Fig. 9), Willard Watson, “The Texas Kid” (Fig. 10), Bill Komodore,60 and Billy Hassell.61 She also oversaw major career retrospectives on Elizabeth Murray (1987), Cindy Sherman (1988), Donald Judd (1989), and Texas-based James Surls (1985).

Though the DMA was the dominant institution in the new Arts District, small galleries and studios occupied several buildings around Downtown. Dallas artist and librarian John Held Jr. founded Modern Realism Archive and Gallery in 1982 with his future wife Paula Barber as an alternative exhibition venue and research center for avant-garde cultural activity.62 Modern Realism became the center of eclectic programs, from exhibitions of stamps and artist books to a “devival” by the parody religion Church of the Sub-Genius (Fig. 11). Held’s involvement in mail art—a worldwide movement in which artists use the postal system to exchange visual art—connected Dallas to the international art community. His gallery collaborated with other Dallas–Fort Worth Metroplex venues, like Club Dada, and hosted the retrospective of the letters of the prominent mail artist Ray Johnson.

On the 100th anniversary of artist Marcel Duchamp’s birthday in July 1987, Held hosted major international mail and performance artists Ryosuke Cohen and Shozo Shimamoto. While in Dallas, the duo put on performances at Club Dada in Deep Ellum and at the DMA in Horchow Auditorium. Their Club Dada performance was an homage to Duchamp. The two artists cut off all of Held’s hair, then pasted it onto his head in the shape of a star, a reverse reference to Duchamp’s self-portrait photograph Tonsure, 1921. At the DMA, Shimamoto did a performance piece titled Peace Networking on the Head, in which slides and 8 mm films of artworks were projected onto his bald head (Fig. 12). Held recalls these performances:

The first one [performance] I did at Club Dada was the Duchamp Centennial performance. We showed Shozo Shimamoto and Ryosuke Cohen. . . . And this is where Ryosuke Cohen cut off all my hair and then Shozo pasted the hair back onto my head in the shape of a star, which was an homage to Duchamp who did something the same—shaved a star into his head in one of his performances. So, that was 1987.
I think that was like on Saturday evening, if I’m not mistaken, at Club Dada. And then the following day, I think it was a Sunday, I believe, we went to the Dallas Museum of Art and just went to the auditorium, and there were a lot of mail artists who came from Houston and Austin and elsewhere to meet Shozo.
I mean he was a very well-known artist who was primarily known only in mail art circles at that time and only recently is gaining a measure of acknowledgment for his participation through time. But we did a performance with him at the Museum.
He had a shaved head, and he would let people do things on his head—rubber stamp or draw or paste things, whatever you wanted to do. He was like an open medium for people.63

Modern Realism moved to a flatiron-style building at 1903 McMillan Avenue, where exhibitions were held in a room and hallways on the second floor. The gallery closed in 1994 when Held and Barber divorced. A year later, Held moved to San Francisco, where he currently resides. The John Held Jr. Collection of Mail Art Periodicals—consisting of catalogues, posters, periodicals, zines, and the largest U.S. collection of secondary sources—was acquired by the Museum of Modern Art Library, New York, and the Getty Research Institute, Los Angeles.

Held was also founder and director of the Video Art Study Group at the J. Erik Jonsson Central Library in Downtown Dallas, where he worked as an arts librarian. Beginning in 1983, the group met monthly to view and discuss the latest developments in video art (Fig. 14). Using contacts he had made as a video librarian in New York State, Held brought in classic works like Nam June Paik’s You Can’t Lick Postcard Stamps in China and Bill Viola’s Chott El-djerd, giving interested Dallasites a taste of the ever-expanding world of video and new media art.64 Local video artist and enthusiast Bart Weiss was an active member of the group. In 1986, Held and Weiss organized a three-day festival—held concurrently at the Central Library and the Dallas Museum of Art—that would become the Video Association of Dallas’ annual VideoFest. That year, the DMA hosted two screenings: The Best of Dallas Video Art, which featured video works by Dallas artists James Chefchis, David Dowe, Jerry Hunt, John Leveranz, Victor Dada, Farley Scott, and others; and Video Art by Leading National Independent Producers, which included the world premiere of William Wegman’s The World of Photography and works by Steina and Woody Vasulka, John Sanborn, Skip Blumberg, Max Almy, and Ed Emshwiller. The Central Library had on view the Vasulkas’ six-monitor video installation The West.65

The first Dallas Video Festival, Rewinding into the Future, was held over four days in the fall of 1987, offering workshops, video installations, and numerous screenings of video work by local and international artists. Organized by Bart Weiss, it was designed “to trace the history of the video medium from the early days of television to the present, with a hint at what Weiss called ‘the technology of the future.’”66 Highlights included a program on the Pee-wee Herman Playhouse and the Dallas premieres of Jean-Luc Godard’s feature-length video Grandeur et Decadence and Ant Farm collective’s docudrama The Eternal Frame, which featured a reenactment of the John F. Kennedy assassination. In conjunction with the festival, video installations were on view throughout Dallas at venues like the downtown Neiman Marcus department store windows, with work by David Merkel; the University of Texas at Dallas, with work by Tom Giebink; and the Central Library, with work by Tom Grace.

The annual Dallas VideoFest continues to bring cutting-edge video and new media work to the city. From the beginning, it has maintained a close connection to works by Texas artists through The Texas Show, a juried compilation of short-form works. The festival has been held in various places throughout the area, but it returned to the Dallas Museum of Art for its 25th anniversary in September 2012. In keeping with the first festival, the program took video art out of the museum and into the city. The larger-than-life installation Expanded Cinema used the curved walls of the Omni Hotel in Downtown Dallas as its screen.67 Curated by Bart Weiss, Carolyn Sortor, and Michael Morris, the video program had a simulcast soundtrack available on a local radio station and could be experienced from multiple viewpoints around the city.

Real estate prices in Downtown Dallas have prevented the area from becoming a truly viable place for artists to live and work. The nearby, affordable neighborhoods of Deep Ellum, Fair Park–South Dallas, and Oak Cliff historically have attracted more artists. The exception was the Screw Products Artist Studios, located at 1700 Routh Street in the southeast corner of the developing Arts District, where a group of artists converted a large two-story warehouse into partitioned studios. Painter Nadara Goodwin was one of the first to move her studio into the space in 1983 after securing the building with the help of a few other artists.68 She recalls that “the windows were all broken out, and the tin roof was banging. The owner told me if I could get five others to move in, he'd rent it. I must have dragged 20 artists through here, but none of them would take a chance. Finally I got three.”69 Though they were not allowed to live in the building, they were the only artists working in the Arts District. Screw Products Artist Studios lasted for several years until developers began eyeing the property for expansion. A midrise apartment complex eventually took its place.

The 1990s

The Arts District continued to be the main arts attraction in Downtown Dallas through the 1990s, but pockets of activity could be found in other areas. Small exhibitions were staged at the Downtown Central Library, and short-lived galleries like N. NO. 0 Gallery70 and the Bell Plaza Gallery at the Southwestern Bell Telephone Company71 provided alternatives to major DMA exhibitions.

After Sue Graze’s resignation in 1990, DMA director Richard R. Brettell appointed Annegreth Nill as curator of contemporary art in 1991. During Nill’s tenure, the Concentrations series was suspended and replaced temporarily by Encounters, a six-chapter series that paired internationally known artists with Texas counterparts.72 The program furthered the DMA’s commitment to local artists by giving them the opportunity to work with international stars while having their work shown in the Museum. Pairings included John Hernandez with Rainer Ganahl,73 Doug MacWithey with Cady Noland,74 and Tracy Hicks with Damien Hirst.75 Major acquisitions during Nill’s tenure included work by Christopher Wool (Fig. 15), Georg Herold,76 David Hammons,77 and Anish Kapoor (Fig. 16).

When Nill stepped down in 1995, two curators were hired to lead the expanding contemporary art department: Charles Wylie in the newly endowed position of The Lupe Murchison Curator of Contemporary Art and Suzanne Weaver as assistant curator of contemporary art.78 Wylie reinstated the Concentrations series in 1996 with the video installation of Matthew McCaslin (November 21, 1996–January 19, 1997), representing the museum’s renewed commitment to Graze’s series as well as a new direction in the contemporary art program. The 1990s were an exciting time for the contemporary art department. The Contemporary Art Initiative—which drew together support from local collectors79—enabled the Museum to advance its activity in contemporary art programs, exhibitions, and acquisitions. The annual contemporary art auction TWO x TWO for AIDS and Art, established in 1999 as a partnership between the DMA and amFAR, the Foundation for AIDS Research, raises significant funds for both organizations, allowing the Museum to take on major exhibitions and develop its permanent collections.

Into the 21st Century

The dream of an Arts District and a lively downtown, decades in the making, took shape in the new century. With three major visual art institutions in such close proximity—the DMA, the Nasher Sculpture Center, and the Latino Cultural Center—Downtown Dallas came into its own as an art destination. The DMA celebrated its centennial in 2003 with two contemporary exhibitions. To emphasize the Museum’s relationship to Texas art and artists, Suzanne Weaver, with Lane Relyea, organized Come Forward: Emerging Art in Texas, featuring the work of 11 artists. Charles Wylie, with Weaver and Dorothy Kosinski, senior curator of painting and sculpture, organized Celebrating Sculpture to welcome the Nasher Sculpture Center to the Arts District.80

Also in 2003, the City of Dallas Office of Cultural Affairs dedicated the Latino Cultural Center in a new building on the northern edge of Downtown at Good-Latimer Expressway and Live Oak Street. The center had generated support from private donations and a voter-approved bond issue in 1995, but construction delays and rising costs had postponed the completion of its building. The 27,000-square-foot facility has a 300-seat theater, an art gallery, and sculpture courtyards where local and regional artists promote and display Latino and Hispanic arts and culture. Among its programs are an annual juried exhibition, Hecho en Dallas, which showcases the work of artists from Dallas and North Texas. Artists in past exhibitions have included Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, Ricardo Paniagua, and Bernardo Diaz.

With the continued support of its Contemporary Art Initiative, the DMA acquired several major pieces during the 1990s and 2000s, including works by Anselm Kiefer (Fig. 17), Sigmar Polke (Fig. 18), Gerhard Richter (Fig. 19), Matthew Barney,81 Bruce Nauman,82 Charles Ray (Fig. 20), and Robert Smithson (Fig. 21). A major moment in the Museum’s history came in 2005, with the bequests of the entire collections of Cindy and Howard Rachofsky, Deedie and Rusty Rose, and Marguerite and Robert Hoffman. To acknowledge these unprecedented gifts—which include all future acquisitions and will enter the Museum over time—the DMA organized the 2007 exhibition Fast Forward: Contemporary Collections for the Dallas Museum of Art, which featured major works from the three collections as a preview of what is to come.83

The DMA continues to show support for local and regional artists through several competitive grants. In 1980, it created the Clare Hart DeGolyer Memorial Fund and the Arch and Anne Giles Kimbrough Fund to recognize talent in emerging and professional artists. The DeGolyer grant is awarded to artists between the ages of 15 and 25 residing in Texas, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Arizona, or Colorado, while the Kimbrough grant is awarded to artists under age 30 residing in Texas. In 1990, the DMA created the Otis and Velma Davis Dozier Travel Grant in memory of two Dallas artists. The grant provides funding for domestic or foreign travel and is awarded to professional artists age 30 or older who live in Texas. As former Dallas art dealer Eugene Binder noted, "It's something very special. I don't know of other cities who have privately endowed funds for this purpose. This lends another means of support over and above simply selling a painting or a sculpture.”84

Since 1980, the DMA has awarded more than 230 grants to artists totaling more than $500,000. Many recipients have had successful art careers, including Jeff Elrod, David Bates, Trenton Doyle Hancock, Melissa Miller, Helen Altman, Annette Lawrence, Ludwig Schwarz, Brian Fridge, John Pomara, Courtney Brown, Linnea Glatt, and Rosemary Meza-DesPlas (Fig. 22).

Suzanne Weaver and Charles Wylie both left the museum by the end of the first decade of the 2000s. Jeffrey Grove, appointed as the newly endowed Hoffman Family Senior Curator in 2009, has overseen acquisitions of work by artists including Jack Whitten (Fig. 23), Karel Funk,85 Maurizio Cattelan (Fig. 24), Johannes Kahrs,86 Bojan Šarčević (Fig. 25), Michelangelo Pistoletto,87 and Lee Ufan (Fig. 26) and organized major exhibitions including Re-Seeing the Contemporary: Selected from the Collection (October 15, 2010–March 20, 2011); Silence and Time (May 29–August 28, 2011); and Variations on Theme: Contemporary Art 1950s–Present (July 7, 2012–January 27, 2013). Grove also reconstituted the Concentrations series, beginning with Concentrations 54: Matt Connors and Fergus Feehily (April 3–August 14, 2011). In 2012, recognizing the opportunity to expand the collections into the realm of contemporary Japanese art, the Museum appointed Gabriel Ritter as The Nancy and Tim Hanley Assistant Curator of Contemporary Art. The DMA is now poised to develop a contemporary collection that is singular in quality and scope.

Over 20 years, the Arts District has added the Crow Collection of Asian Art (1998); Booker T. Washington High School for the Performing and Visual Arts (2008); the Dee and Charles Wyly Theatre (2009); the Dallas City Performance Hall (2012); Klyde Warren Park (2012); and the Perot Museum of Nature and Science (2012).

Adding to the infrastructure of the Arts District and Downtown Dallas are events like the annual Dallas Art Fair, the Aurora Project, and Arts District Block Parties. The Dallas Art Fair, created in 2008 by developer John Sughrue and art dealer Chris Byrne, brings national and international galleries, art dealers, curators, and artists to the city for a week of art and commerce at the Fashion Industry Gallery on Ross Avenue. The first fair in 2009 had 30 exhibitors from 12 cities and featured contemporary paintings, sculptures, drawings, prints, and photography from internationally recognized artists like Chuck Close, Sol LeWitt, and Damien Hirst.88 By the fourth year, the exhibitor list had doubled, with 70 galleries from all over the world. While the Dallas Art Fair is primarily geared toward collectors (with works selling in the $2,000 to $1 million range), the event brings an influx of international collectors, curators, and dealers who want to explore what Dallas’ galleries have to offer.

The fair has also become a catalyst for citywide arts activity. In 2012, the Dallas Contemporary launched its conceptual take on the idea of a biennial exhibition with the citywide Dallas Biennale, which featured site-specific installations all over Dallas during the week of the fair.89 The local artist collective Dick Higgins90 held its own version of a biennial, DB12 Volume 1, installed in the back room of Oliver Francis Gallery in Deep Ellum. Co-curator Michael Mazurek described it as “not a critique per se, but rather a multidisciplinary approach to curatorial jockeying. DB12 is also a hybrid: part event, part data, part research, part publication. It will probably be viewed in hindsight as the preface to a much larger catalog.”91 The exhibition, which had a strong online presence, was a concise international survey that included work by Artur Barrio, Guillaume Leblon, Sharon Ya’ari, Asger Carlsen, George Horner, and Michael Vorfeld, installed in a 300-square-foot space.92 Also in 2012, artists of the Shamrock Hotel Studios in Deep Ellum organized The Fallas Dart Air, an exhibition featuring 16 local artists.93 Both DB12 and Fallas Dart Air repeated their efforts for the 2013 Dallas Art Fair, with DB12 Volume 294 and Fallas Dart Air 2013: Low and Slow at Mama Faye’s BBQ95 representing local artists’ take on the increasingly popular annual event.

Shane Pennington established the Aurora Project in 2010 as a vehicle for interactive new media artworks—light, video, performance, and sound—installed in multiple locations. Originally situated in Dallas Heritage Village just south of Downtown, the Aurora Project moved to the Arts District in 2011 and attracted more than 15,000 participants and viewers. It is considered one of the nation’s largest outdoor exhibitions of new media art.

Rounding out activities in the Arts District is the quarterly Block Party presented by the DMA, the Nasher Sculpture Center, and the Crow Collection of Asian Art. The three institutions stay open until midnight at no charge and offer live music, lectures, performances, and other special programming.

New residential properties like Museum Tower—geared toward wealthier arts patrons—and Flora Street Lofts—affordable live-work studios for artists—ensure that the Arts District will soon live up to its potential as a true community where artists and patrons mingle. It is the nation’s largest contiguous Arts District and the pride of Dallas.

2) Neiman Marcus opened the Decorative Galleries in 1929 as a way of moving into the interior design and decorator market. Art and antiques were sourced in Europe and installed as period rooms on the fourth floor. Mary Carter Toomey, “Le Vieux Carré Galleries of Interior Decoration to Give New Beauty to Neiman-Marcus,” Dallas Morning News, October 13, 1929, 7. Examples of major exhibitions staged there include Rockwell Kent Lithographs (Staff, “Kent Exhibit Will Open at Neiman-Marcus,” Dallas Morning News, October 23, 1933, 6); Works by Paul Gauguin (Peggy Louise Jones, “Seven Originals by French Artist to Be Exhibited,” Dallas Morning News, January 20, 1948, 4; Staff, “Gotham Dealers Lend Exhibit,” Dallas Morning News, January 23, 1948, 12); and Twelve Paintings by Pablo Picasso (Rual Askew, “Twelve Oils by Picasso to Be Shown,” Dallas Morning News, September 30, 1948, 5).

The Gauguin show was organized by Stanley Marcus, executive vice-president of Neiman Marcus, who came up with the idea while planning a Gauguin fashion collection on the centenary of the painter’s birth. It included five oil paintings (Paysage de Bretagne, 1883; Nativity, 1902; Poèmes Barbares, 1896; Dr. Gachet, 1884; and Tahitian Flowers, n.d.), along with a gouache (Les Folies, 1900), two lithographs (Peasant Girls in Brittany and Misères Humaines), four woodcuts (Te Faruru, Enlèvement d’Europe, Manao Tupapau, and L’Universe Est Crée), and two low-relief wall carvings (O Tahiti and Taiheaiteienei Ao). All works were on loan from New York art dealers Kleeman Galleries and Weyhe Gallery and the private collection of Edward G. Robinson.

The Picasso exhibition was the first showing of the artist’s work in Texas and was organized by Samuel M. Kootz, Picasso’s American dealer. The 12 canvases were Seated Woman, 1929; Cock and Knife, 1949; Woman, 1947; Still Life with Coffee Pot, 1947; Sailor, 1943; Owl and Arrow, 1947; Still Life with Skull and Pitcher, 1945; Concierge’s Daughter with Doll, 1947; Head, 1944; The Glass, 1947; Still Life with Mirror, 1943; and Blue Owl, 1947.

19) As Pauline Rose explains in her essay on Henry Moore and his relationship to Dallas: “The genesis of Dallas’ new City Hall can be traced back to the year following President Kennedy’s assassination. In the attempt to rehabilitate Dallas the Goals for Dallas initiative was announced in November 1964 and ‘involved brainstorming by thousands of Dallasites from all sectors to establish common goals. . . .’ The Goals for Dallas programme was still ‘live’ when Moore’s sculpture was installed at the City Hall in 1978. . . . Jonsson intended the new City Hall to be symbolic of Dallas citizens.” Pauline Rose, “Henry Moore in Dallas 1965–1984,” Sculpture Journal 17, no. 1 (2008): 58–59.

Mayor Jonsson may also have believed a new city hall was important as a symbolic and psychological replacement for the city hall building in which Jack Ruby shot and killed Lee Harvey Oswald. See also Bert Holmes, “A Man of Vision and Accomplishments: A Tribute to Erik Jonsson” (Dallas: Texas Instruments, 1996) (viewed on May 21, 2013).

24) The City of Dallas has had a spotty history of placing works of art in public places. Early installations tended to be sculptural memorials or monuments with military or armed services themes. In 1896, the Confederate Monument, by San Antonio artist Frank Teich, was installed in the Old City Park (moved to Pioneer Park Cemetery in the Convention Center District). Other works of art installed as monuments include the Fireman’s Monument, installed in Old City Park in 1902 (moved to Fair Park), and the George Bannerman Dealey Memorial, by Felix de Weldon, installed in Dealey Plaza in 1948.

It was not until 1955 that the idea of art in public places shifted to less traditional works. In that year, nationally recognized Italian-born artist Harry Bertoia installed the abstract metal sculpture Textured Screen in the new Dallas Public Library. The work aroused controversy when several Dallas city officials made derogatory remarks. Mayor R. L. Thornton said, “It looks to me just like a bunch of junk painted up. Besides, it looks like a cheap welding job.” Mayor pro tem Vernon A. Smith commented, “People will come in and forget what they came for when they see that bunch of junk.” And Councilman J. R. Terry said, “I guess I haven’t been educated up to it. I hate to be a party to seeing the taxpayer’s money spent like that, but I guess there’s nothing we can do about it now. It certainly didn’t have official approval of the Council.” Allen Quinn, “Mayor Comments on Gilded Mural,” Dallas Morning News, June 28, 1955, 1.

After these disparaging remarks, the library’s architect, George L. Dahl, who commissioned the sculpture with the approval of the Library Board, purchased the screen and had it delivered to his private residence in Dallas, relieving taxpayers of the burden. As Dallas Morning News reporter Allen Quinn noted, “Removal of the mural was surrounded in mystery. Workmen of the McKee Construction Company, library contractor, refused photographers entrance into the new building when it was discovered the mural was being taken down.” Allen Quinn, “Library Architect Purchases Mural: What-Is-It Carted to Dahl Home,” Dallas Morning News, July 9, 1955, 1.

Within weeks of the removal of the work, 71 prominent Dallas citizens raised the funds to purchase the work from Dahl and have it reinstalled in the library above the circulation desk. They included Mrs. Alex Camp (for whom the Alexander Calder, Flower, 1949, was commissioned and given to the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts), Mr. and Mrs. Edward Marcus (Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts board members, 1956–1963), Mrs. George Works Jr., Mr. Waldo Stewart, Mr. and Mrs. Angus Wynne Jr., Miss Ela Hockaday, Mr. Leon Harris (of Sanger Harris department store), Mr. Stanley Marcus (of Neiman Marcus department store), Mr. and Mrs. Hermes Nye (Mary Nye of Nye Galleries), Mrs. Thomas (Betty) Blake, J. O. Lambert Jr., and Sue Connally. “Letter Reveals Mural’s Friends,” Dallas Morning News, August 6, 1955, 1. The work remained on view and was the only symbol from the old library to be moved to the new J. Erik Jonsson Central Library, completed in 1982. Stanley Marcus, “Dallas’ Progress in Art,” Dallas Morning News, May 18, 1993, 17A.

62)

The original location for Modern Realism was 1515 Young Street, next to the Masonic Temple. John Held described the gallery in an oral history interview as

an independent study center for the alternative arts directed by artist John Held Jr. Founded in 1982, it seeks to preserve the record of contemporary avant-garde cultural activity unheralded by the mainstream. It specializes in Fluxus, mail art, performance art, and artist books and periodicals, maintaining an in-depth collection of primary and secondary source materials.
The name Modern Realism was taken from a rubber stamp found at a public library. The term signifies a warning to parents that certain materials are of a sophisticated nature for young adult readers. In this regard, the collection of the Archive poses challenging questions concerning the nature of contemporary art for those unfamiliar with unorthodox cultural activities. . . . Exhibitions have been held for such artists as Ray Johnson, Davi Det Hompson, Anna Banana, Ken Brown, and Achille Cavellini. Special thematic shows have been mounted on Fluxus, Artist Postage Stamps, Mail Art, The Church of the SubGenius, and the Yugoslavian anti-embargo art collective Cage Group. The archive contains exhaustive documentation on mail art activity from 1980 to 1995, including primary materials, exhibition catalogues, posters, periodicals, zines, and the largest collection of secondary sources (books, and magazines) about the subject in the United States. All of the materials have been listed in the book, Mail Art: An Annotated Bibliography (Scarecrow Press, 1991), compiled by the director of the archive.
The Archive contains over 600 different artist periodicals from 40 countries. The artist postage stamp collection numbers some 2,500 sheets from 500 artists. Correspondence from some 5,000 artists is maintained in both domestic and foreign files. Loans from the collection had been made to the National Postal Museums in Switzerland and France, and the National Art Library in England for major exhibitions.
Materials from the collection have been used in exhibitions in the United States and abroad. In 1995, selections from the Artist Postage Stamp Collection will begin a two-year exhibition tour under the auspices of Visual Arts Resources of Portland, Oregon. . . . The gallery was opened by myself and Paula Barber, who was then the director of the exhibitions program at the Dallas Public Library, in 1982. And we tried to focus on some things that weren’t being shown in the Dallas area at that time. As a matter of fact, I think we brought several avant-garde artistic exhibitions to Dallas for the first time, including exhibitions on Fluxus certainly and mail art, in particular Ray Johnson, which was his first show of letters in the gallery.

John Held Jr., oral history interview by Leigh Arnold, May 4, 2012, History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection, Dallas Museum of Art Archives.

81) Matthew Barney, The Cloud Club, 2002, Mason and Hamlin Symetrigrand piano with stainless steel, silver, white mother-of-pearl, gold lip mother-of-pearl, black lip mother-of-pearl, green abalone, quartersawn Honduras mahogany, lacewood, walnut, ash burl, redwood burl, madrone burl, and Chilean laurel marquetry; internally lubricated plastic; potatoes; concrete, and sterling silver, approximate dimensions: 57 x 108 x 84 in. (144.78 cm x 2 m 74.321 cm x 2 m 13.36 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, Contemporary Art Fund: Gift of Arlene and John Dayton, Mr. and Mrs. Vernon E. Faulconer, Mr. and Mrs. Bryant M. Hanley, Jr., Marguerite and Robert K. Hoffman, Cindy and Howard Rachofsky, Deedie and Rusty Rose, Gayle and Paul Stoffel, and three anonymous donors; DMA/amfAR Benefit Auction Fund; and Roberta Coke Camp Fund, object no.: 2003.24.1.A-D.

89) The Dallas Biennale was on view April 13–August 19, 2012 with work by Claude Leveque, Zoe Crosher, Clarissa Tossin, Hugues Reip, Michael Corris, Michael Smith, Kim Beom, Nick Barbee, Anthea Behm, Gabriel Martinez, Pierre Joseph, Mario Garcia Torres, Clarissa Tossin, Charlotte Moth, Nicole Miller, Delphine Reist, Louise Hervé, Chloé Maillet, Sylvie Fleury, Moreshin Allahyari, and the artist collective Okay Mountain. The curators were Dallas Contemporary director Peter Doroshenko and adjunct curator Florence Ostende. It was considered conceptual in that it was intended to be a one-time exhibition, unlike a traditional biennial exhibition. Peter Simek, “Why Dallas’ First Biennale Art Exhibition Will Also Be its Last,” D Magazine online edition, March 26, 2012 (viewed on June 13, 2013).

Design District: Not Just for Interior Decorators

The Design District has long attracted interior decorators on the hunt for wholesale furniture and antiques, but it has only recently become a contemporary art destination, with Dallas’ largest concentration of commercial galleries and two nonprofit art institutions. The same conditions that stimulated contemporary art in other parts of the city—convenience, accessibility, and an abundance of warehouse space—are largely responsible for the neighborhood’s emergence. Beginning around 2005, galleries began moving there to take advantage of rents that were a fraction of those for space in Uptown and Deep Ellum. As gallery owner Missy Finger explained, “It was hard to continue looking in Uptown because of the rents, which had been driven ever higher by increasingly lavish development, such as the Ritz-Carlton Dallas Hotel, along with an influx of high-priced commercial and residential enclaves.”1

Many credit Nancy Whitenack, who moved her Conduit Gallery to the Design District in 2002, with the beginning of the gallery migration.2 Established in 1984, it is one of Dallas’ oldest and most respected contemporary art galleries. Whitenack had been among the first to open a gallery in Deep Ellum, originally at 2814 Elm Street, and later moved to another location still in Deep Ellum in the Undermain Building at 3200 Main Street. Conduit Gallery represents emerging and midcareer local and regional artists, promoting North Texas– and Dallas-based talents—painters Robert Barsamian, Vincent Falsetta, and Roberto Munguia, photographer Susan Kae Grant, sculptor Arthur Koch, and conceptual artist Ludwig Schwarz—while giving younger artists the opportunity to showcase their work in the gallery’s smaller Project Space, curated by Danette Dufilho (Fig. 1, Fig. 2, Fig. 3).

It would be several years before other Dallas galleries caught on to the secret Whitenack had discovered in the Design District. In 2005, Holly Johnson opened the doors to her namesake gallery at 1411 Dragon Street,3 soon followed by Craighead Green Gallery, which relocated from Uptown to 1011 Dragon Street.4 Johnson had extensive experience directing prestigious galleries in Dallas and Houston, starting with the Dallas-based Adams-Middleton Gallery and Pillsbury-Peters Gallery and the Barbara Davis and MD Modern galleries in Houston.5 Her gallery opened with an established group of artists, including recruits from her time at Pillsbury-Peters: painter and draughtsman Frank X. Tolbert 2, assemblage sculptor Terry Allen, and painter Virgil Grotfeldt. Currently, Johnson’s stable has expanded to include 30 emerging, midcareer, and internationally acclaimed artists who are featured in the extensive exhibition program. Her focus on Texas artists has helped maintain her connection to the local arts community.

Craighead Green has continued the same programs it offered in its Uptown location. Founders Kenneth Craighead and Steve Green jumped at the chance to move to larger quarters in the Design District, purchasing the 5,000-square-foot warehouse in late 2004. After the space was renovated, the gallery opened with a two-person exhibition featuring botanic paintings by Marci Crawford Harnden and figurative paintings by Kendall Stallings. Its artists are a mix of mid- to late-career artists from around the country. Craighead Green’s longstanding annual juried exhibition New Texas Talent, which introduces and promotes the work of nongallery emerging artists, has become a popular competition (Fig. 4).6 With more than four times the space of its original Uptown gallery and double the ceiling height, Craighead Green has expanded the competition both in scope and scale.

Also making the move from their pricier Uptown locations were Photographs Do Not Bend Gallery (PDNB Gallery) in 2006 (Fig. 5)7 and Gerald Peters Gallery (Fig. 6)8 and Pan-American Gallery (Fig. 7),9 both in 2007. The growing concentration of major contemporary art galleries led still more to move to the neighborhood, including Marty Walker Gallery in 2006,10 Galleri Urbane Marfa + Dallas in 2010, and Cris Worley Fine Arts in 2011.12 Of these more recent additions, PDNB, Marty Walker, Galleri Urbane, and Cris Worley continue to provide a variety of fine art gallery options in the designer-dominated neighborhood.

The Design District welcomed its first major nonprofit institution when the Dallas Contemporary opened in spring 2010 in a renovated 12,000-square-foot warehouse at 161 Glass Street. The Dallas Contemporary traces its roots to 1978, when it was established as the nonprofit art space D-Art. Originally in a warehouse at 2917 Swiss Avenue, D-Art was a kind of community center for local artists, who had access to the galleries for exhibitions, performances, and lectures (Fig. 8). D-Art eventually moved to a Victorian home in a historic neighborhood at 2801 Swiss Avenue, where it became known as the Dallas Visual Art Center (DVAC). While the galleries were designed to accommodate the aesthetic of contemporary art, the location never seemed like a true fit. With Joan Davidow as director, DVAC raised funds through a capital campaign for a new, more appropriate building for the Dallas Contemporary (renamed in 2006). The first exhibition in the new space was a major sculptural and experiential installation by California artist James Gilbert (Fig. 9). Peter Doroshenko, director since fall 2010, has helped organize exhibitions of contemporary art that combine street art, fashion, design, and installation, including Gabriel Dawe: Plexus No. 4 (2011), Juergen Teller: Man with Banana (2011), Jennifer Rubell: Nutcrackers (2011), Rob Pruitt (2012), The Dallas Bienniale (2012), and K8 Hardy (2012).

Just a few months after the Dallas Contemporary opened, the Design District welcomed a second nonprofit art space. The Goss-Michael Foundation, established in 2007 by Kenny Goss and George Michael, aims to educate and engage the public through exhibitions of British contemporary art. Originally in the former home of the Goss Gallery at 2500 Cedar Springs Road (opened in 2005 by Kenny Goss), the foundation nearly doubled its gallery size when it moved to 1405 Turtle Creek Boulevard in 2010. It has introduced Dallas to the work of major British artists, including Tracey Emin, Marc Quinn, Richard Patterson, and James White, while offering lecture series and a resource center with a library and archive on the Goss-Michael permanent collection of contemporary British art. In 2012, the foundation appointed Kevin Rubén Jacobs as assistant curator/exhibitions manager with the job of building bridges with the Dallas artist community. Jacobs inaugurated New Practices—a program to support younger contemporary artists—with the Dallas-based artist collective (wo)manorial,13 which curated an exhibition of works in varying media by female artists from around the globe.14 Goss-Michael plans to use New Practices to continue engaging local artists within its space.

The Design District is poised to take the lead as the hub of the expanding Dallas art scene. In 2013, the neighborhood boasts more than 10 contemporary art galleries or spaces, with plenty of room for growth. The addition of several residential properties and critically acclaimed restaurants like Oak, the Meddlesome Moth, and FT33 have helped the neighborhood grow from a to-the-trade-only warehouse district into a blossoming community that supports artists and their patrons. Many of the galleries are active members of the Dallas Art Dealers Association (DADA) and Contemporary Art Dealers of Dallas (CADD), which help coordinate exhibitions and events to bring maximum exposure to the area. In spring 2013, DADA and the community organization Bike Friendly Oak Cliff sponsored a Bike Swarm group bicycle ride from Oak Cliff to the Design District during the annual Spring Gallery Walk. Other events have included food truck parties to coincide with gallery openings and the annual Art Conspiracy auction, held for the first time in a Design District warehouse in fall 2012.15 Continued development of the neighborhood ensures that it will long be a vital place for artists and art lovers.

University Communities: Shaping the Future

By the early 1960s, the Dallas area boasted five major university art departments: Texas Woman’s University, the University of North Texas, the University of Dallas, the University of Texas at Arlington, and Southern Methodist University. That number grew steadily for the next 15 years, as the Dallas County Community College District campuses, the University of Dallas, and the University of Texas at Dallas all created art programs. These higher education communities cultivated freedom of expression in young artists, who were encouraged to test the boundaries of art under the guidance of seasoned professors.

The first of these programs was established in 1901 as one of the original five departments at what is now Texas Woman’s University (TWU).1 The University of North Texas (UNT) offered studio art courses as early as 1894 and began awarding master of science degrees by the mid-1930s.2 The University of Texas at Arlington (UTA), founded in 1923 as North Texas Agricultural College, began awarding degrees in the arts in 1959.3

Art programs at other major universities in the Dallas–Fort Worth area emerged in the 1960s. At Southern Methodist University (SMU), the School of Music4 expanded in 1964 to become the Meadows School of the Arts, granting degrees in the visual and performing arts and eventually in communications. The University of Dallas (UD, founded in 1956) received a major gift in 1966 to create the Braniff Graduate School of Liberal Arts, which awarded master of fine arts degrees to fully funded students.5 In 1975, the University of Texas at Dallas (UTD, founded in 1969) invited artist and professor Will Hipps to start an art program that quickly became a vital addition to the area’s university arts community.6

The trend in North Texas followed the nationwide growth in college and university art departments after World War II, stimulated in part by the surge in attendance created by the GI Bill. Major artists of the postwar generation—including Robert Rauschenberg, Donald Judd, Cy Twombly, and Jasper Johns—used the bill to pay their way through college. Another contributing factor was the influx of refugees throughout the war and into the Cold War years. Some of Europe’s most illustrious artists, who arrived seeking sanctuary and new audiences for their art, earned a living as teachers in emerging art programs. Higher education institutions were eager to use the considerable talents of artists like George Grosz, who taught at the Art Students League of New York and the Des Moines Art Center in Iowa; László Moholy-Nagy, who helped start the New Bauhaus in Chicago in 1937; and György Kepes, who established the Center for Advanced Visual Studies at Massachusetts Institute of Technology in 1967. Changing perceptions of art also prompted the creation of art programs. As American art captured greater interest and recognition, the center of the art world shifted from Paris to New York City, and as the professional artist gained elevated status, universities wanted to provide advanced-level education in art.

By the 1960s, community colleges (or junior colleges, as they were called then) expanded to add courses in studio art to their traditional vocational curriculums. The growing cost of higher education generated a demand for two-year trade schools that were stepping-stones to further education. World conflict again played a role in the developing educational system, as many junior colleges attracted young men seeking to avoid the draft during the Vietnam War. The Dallas County Junior College District was established in 1965, with El Centro College opening in downtown Dallas as its first campus in 1966. The Eastfield (Fig. 1) and Mountain View campuses were established in 1970, and soon the remaining campuses—Richland (1972, Fig. 2, Fig. 3), Cedar Valley, North Lake (1977, Fig. 4), and Brookhaven (1978)—served neighborhoods and suburbs throughout Dallas County.7

Artists as Teachers

With the creation of so many art departments in the Dallas–Fort Worth area, professional artists were in demand to lead these programs. Artists came from all over the country to teach. TWU had several notable female artists on its faculty, including photographer Carlotta Corpron (1901–1988),8 who worked with László Moholy-Nagy and György Kepes during their visits to Texas in the 1940s, and Dorothy Antoinette “Toni” LaSelle (1901–2002), who studied painting with Hans Hofmann in Provincetown, Massachusetts, in the 1940s and 1950s and with Moholy-Nagy at the New Bauhaus.9 In more recent years, photographer Susan kae Grant joined the faculty at TWU in 1981. Now professor and head of photography and book arts, Grant established the first book arts specialty in the area while developing her career as a professional artist. Arthur Koch was recruited in 1966 from a teaching post in Washington State to teach studio art courses at El Centro College. Soon after, he began a 40-year teaching career at SMU, working with Dallas newcomers Laurence (Larry) Sholder10 and Roger Winter. Winter arrived in Dallas in the late 1950s. He worked first at the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts and as a teacher at the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts and the Julius Schepps Community Center. Jerry Bywaters, the former DMFA director who was then head of the SMU art department,11 invited Winter to teach courses there. Winter recalls their conversations:

He asked me once, “Brother Roger, would you like to teach a photography class?” And I said, “I don’t know anything about photography.” And the next year, he asked me if I would like to teach a design class, and that was more interesting but I said, “No, I don’t think I would want to do that.” And then he asked me if I would like to teach a drawing class, and I said, “I would love to.”12

Winter taught painting and drawing at SMU for the next 26 years. Nationally recognized artists like David Bates, John Alexander, and Dan Rizzie all credit his teaching as a source of inspiration. Bates, especially, says Winter gave him the freedom to pursue his own style:

It all started when Roger Winter—I was in his drawing class, one time, and everybody, I mean a lot of the kids could draw. They were really, really good at it. . . . I would be drawing the model and then I’d get tired of drawing that and then I’d draw you drawing the model. . . . It was a whole composition, and he came over and saw that all in colored pencils, and he said, “Come here. Come on, let’s go, you’re out,” and I went, “What?” He goes,” Get your stuff, let’s go.” He took me downstairs and put me on a Dallas city bus that went by SMU, paid for it, stuck all of the money in there to keep me on the bus all day, and he said, “You’ll be back about 4:30.” So, I’m like, “Okay.” He said, “Just draw what you see on the bus when you’re out there, just draw all of that stuff. It’s what you want to do anyway.” And I went, “Cool.”
I just sat on the bus and I was drawing all of these people getting on and off the bus, all of these characters, the bus driver, the inside of the bus, the whole thing, and when I came back with it, he was like, “That’s what I’m talking about.”13

Adding to the energy at SMU, scholar William B. Jordan was invited to Dallas under initially unfortunate circumstances. Texas oilman and novice collector Algur H. Meadows had amassed a collection of Spanish Old Master paintings, which he donated to SMU in establishing the Meadows Museum of Art.14 Collected in large groups during the 1950s and 1960s, the paintings were acquired at suspiciously low prices. An evaluation revealed that they were for the most part falsely attributed. Dallas artist and gallery owner Donald Vogel conducted the initial evaluation with the help of fellow gallery owners and members of the Art Dealers Association of America.15 Refusing to believe that his collection was a bust, Meadows sought a second opinion from DMFA director Merrill Rueppel, who backed the dealer’s evaluation. In a final effort to save what he thought was a good collection, Meadows sought a third opinion from the preeminent scholar in Spanish painting Dr. José López-Rey, under whom Jordan had studied at the Institute of Fine Arts, New York University. It was determined that the collection, though it contained a few accurate attributions, was not good enough to form the basis of a museum. Unwilling to let this experience damper his passion for art, Meadows hired Jordan as director of the Meadows Museum at SMU, and together they established what many consider to be the most important collection of Spanish art outside of Spain.16

As director of the Meadows Museum and chairman of the Art Department (1967–1980), Jordan oversaw the University Gallery and its exhibitions of contemporary art. He organized some memorable shows, including the collection of actor Dennis Hopper in 1971–1972, prominently featuring one of the motorcycles Hopper used in the 1969 film Easy Rider, along with masterpieces of postwar art by Andy Warhol, Robert Rauschenberg, and Wallace Burnett. Other exhibitions—including Paintings and Drawings by Cy Twombly (1980) and Livres d’Artiste by Braque, Matisse, and Picasso from the Collection of the Bridwell Library (1980)—signaled a more scholarly approach to the study of contemporary art. Poets of the Cities: New York and San Francisco 1950–65 (1974), held concurrently at the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts, gave SMU students the opportunity to rub shoulders with stars of the international contemporary art scene. As David Bates recalls, it was a pivotal moment in his development as an artist:

The Dallas Museum brought a group that’s called Poets of the City and that show brought Merce Cunningham and Rauschenberg and John Cage and Robert Whitman, who I worked with. . . . They went over to SMU to get interns or dupes or whoever to come over there [the DMFA] and take them around and all of that. . . . You were just these young people that they hired on for these big guys that came to town and you were involved in their stuff, doing performances. That was a performance. That was before I went to New York; I was involved in a performance with Bob Whitman and Sylvia Whitman. Anyway, that was a show where you got to see real artists come in and do their bit, and the Fort Worth show17 was another deal where we saw these artists, again, imported in to do something about this place. Those kinds of things were really important to see as a young artist coming along.18

At the University of Texas at Dallas—a technology- and science-based research university—Will Hipps oversaw the construction of the iconic Art Barn building, as well as the development of a unique interdisciplinary program that expands the boundaries of arts and technology by combining dance, music, and theater with the visual arts.19 As Hipps’ fellow art instructor and artist Frances Bagley20 explained: “We were charged with developing an entirely new, experimental curriculum unlike any in the area.”21

In recognition of the new UTD program and the completion of the Eugene McDermott Library, library director James T. Dodson and Dallas Museum of Fine Arts contemporary art curator Robert Murdock organized a major invitational exhibition of contemporary sculpture in 1976.22 The show combined work by nationally recognized sculptors like Mark di Suvero, Donald Judd, and Beverly Pepper with work by local sculptors Jim Love, James Surls, Mac Whitney, and Raffaele Martini. Dallas Morning News critic Janet Kutner noted that “UTD is establishing itself as a vital and active part of the Dallas art community. The sculpture show is ambitious enough by itself. But it introduces what will probably be a program of at least one major show annually on the campus from this point forward.”23 While the exhibition was never repeated, it did help establish UTD as an important contributor to the North Texas art scene.

Vincent Falsetta relocated to Texas in 1977 to teach at North Texas State University (now the University of North Texas) and quickly got involved in the art community. He became a member of 500 Exposition Gallery (now 500X), showing his work in All-Star Stable (1979), Nexus in Texas: Exchange Show with Nexus Foundation for Today’s Art, Philadelphia, PA (1979), and a 1981 solo show. Falsetta’s brand of abstract painting was new to Texas, where the representational art of an earlier generation—Texas Funk, Bob Wade, and Jack Mims—was still the norm.

The University of Texas at Arlington’s Center for Research in Contemporary Art (CRCA), established in 1986, was a significant catalyst for the North Texas contemporary art scene. CRCA directors have included Jeff Kelley (1986–1990), Al Harris-Fernandez (1991–1994), and former DMFA contemporary art curator Sue Graze (1994–1996). In 1997, Benito Huerta was hired as director when CRCA was renamed The Gallery at UTA.

The gallery offered exhibitions and programs that began as social experiments, posing philosophical questions with answers in the form of exhibitions and programming—for example, the exhibition Memory (1988), which answered the question, “What if Dallas–Fort Worth artists were invited to create works of art about what they had remembered and forgotten of the Kennedy assassination?” or the performance Border Arts Workshop/Taller de Arte Fronterizo (1990), which answered the question, “What if artists working along the California-Mexico border staged a performance whose video images were transmitted into the gallery live over international phone lines?”24

Artist Collectives

University communities were incubators for artist collectives, which helped emerging artists strengthen their work through discussion and exchange. The most talked-about group to come out of North Texas was the Good/Bad Art Collective, which began in 1993 with nine undergraduate and graduate students who were not satisfied with the level of creative support at UNT. The exception was UNT professor Vernon Fisher, who Good/Bad members considered a major influence. His course Hybrid Forms pushed students out of traditional media like painting and sculpture into a conceptual-based practice.25 Followers of the Fisher Method were a tight-knit group. They even reproduced a life-sized image of the professor’s face wearing a Mickey Mouse hat on a poster that hung on the walls of the Good/Bad’s building.26 Using social interaction as a framework for production, the collective staged about 250 one-night music and art events over nine years. Exhibitions like Very Fake, But Real at Diverse Works in Houston and Pena Heights at the Arlington Museum of Art represent the core of the Good/Bad method, which combined memorable audience interaction with elements of humor. Before the Good/Bad disbanded in 2001, it expanded to Brooklyn, New York, and held simultaneous events there and in Texas. The work created for these installations often was destroyed after the initial presentation (Fig. 5).

Another Denton-based collective was the all-female WAVE, established by artists from Texas Woman’s University in 1991.27 Describing itself as a professional artists’ forum, the group involved emerging artists seeking to increase exposure and exhibition opportunities, with the mission “to support women in the visual arts, to provide an environment conducive to open intellectual exchange, and to expand exhibition opportunities” (Fig. 6). WAVE exhibited primarily in Dallas, holding its first full membership show at 500X Gallery in 1992. Later exhibitions included Figs from Thistle at the J. Erik Jonsson Central Library in downtown Dallas (1992)28 and Out of Context, shown in Texas and in the Czech Republic (1993) as part of the 750th Anniversary Celebration and Festival in Brno at the invitation of Mayor Vaclav Mencl and the Moravian Provincial Museum. The exhibition featured WAVE’s visual interpretations of biblical references as a way of connecting art and language.29

At the University of Texas at Dallas, new-millennium artists called themselves Oh6 Art Collective. Formed in the summer of 2004, the collective had 16 members who organized exhibitions at the Casket Factory in the South Side on Lamar building (Well, Red, 2004),30 Angstrom Gallery (Mission Control, 2005),31 and 500X Gallery (2006). Members included Elizabeth Alavi, Jerry Comandante, Shelby Cunningham, Tricia Elliott, Amy Halko, Sara Ishii, Adam Kobetich, Kirsten Macy, John Ryan Moore, Polly Perez, Aqsa Shakil, Erica Stephens, Raychael Stine, Tim Stokes, Kevin Todora, and Amber Wigant. In some ways, Oh6 was influenced by the mentality that the Good/Bad had perfected a decade earlier, as their exhibitions tended to be ephemeral, lasting for one night only.

Visiting Artists

Visiting artists have been vital contributors to art programs in North Texas, exposing students to national and international trends and movements. Tracy Harris, who received an MFA in 1983 from SMU, recalls that the art department brought in a visiting artist every few weeks to teach courses and have one-on-one time with students. Conceptual artist Mel Bochner, a particularly demanding teacher, encouraged emerging artists to think about their practice in new ways, stretching the notion of the meaning of art.32

Other visiting artists took a hands-on approach. In 1984, internationally recognized minimalist sculptor Carl Andre spent a week in residence the Richland College campus of the Dallas County Community College District. He gave lectures and demonstrations, collaborated with students to create outdoor sculpture, and showed his work with area artists Frances Bagley, Jerry Dodd, Joy Poe, Manuel Mauricio, Sandy Stein, Linnea Glatt, Joe Havel, and Gisela-Heidi Strunck in an exhibition staged in three locations on campus.33

In 1988, Jeff Kelley, founding director of CRCA, invited performance artist and happenings creator Allan Kaprow to the UTA campus to install his major retrospective exhibition Precedings (1988–1989). Kelley curated the show, which took the form of “reinvented” enactments of a dozen of Kaprow’s seminal happenings from 1959 to 1983, as well as four “lecture performances” by Kaprow. A daylong symposium included such illustrious art world citizens as Claes Oldenburg, George Segal, Richard Schechner, Barbara Smith, Michael Kirby, Moira Roth, Lucy Lippard, Ingrid Sischy, Jim Pomeroy, Robert Morgan, and Suzanne Lacy.34

During her tenure as CRCA director, Sue Graze collaborated with UNT Art Gallery director Diana Block to bring the internationally renowned performance artist Marina Abramović to Dallas for exhibitions at both galleries. They included videos and photographs of Abramović’s past performances and wall rubbings from her 90-day walk along the Great Wall of China in 1988, as well as pieces from her “power objects” sculpture series. While in North Texas, Abramović created a new video work that was included in the Arlington installation of the show.35

Notable Faculty and Alumni

Several current faculty members have long working relationships with the North Texas educational system, some for decades. While some are emeritus professors (Arthur “Robyn” Koch of SMU, Lyle Novinski of UD, and Vernon Fisher of UNT), other long-time faculty continue to offer courses and develop emerging artists into the future talent of North Texas. Annette Lawrence has taught at UNT since she moved to Texas in 1990. Greg Metz and John Pomara were originally considered a pair of Dallas “bad boys,” but they have been teaching at UTD since 1994 and 1996, respectively. Metz, Pomara, and Marilyn Waligore—photography professor at UTD since 1989—represent the trifecta of art disciplines, offering courses in sculpture and new media, painting, and photography.

The list of successful alumni from North Texas art departments is long and far-reaching. Breakout stars from SMU include David Bates (Eastfield, 1971–1973; BFA 1975, MFA 1978), who has been included in biennials at the Corcoran Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C. (1984) and the Whitney Museum of American Art, New York (1987). Bates enjoys a steady career, with representation on the West Coast and in Dallas at Talley Dunn Gallery. Dan Rizzie (MFA 1975) has exhibited extensively in New York and Texas. In the 1980s he was the subject of a national whiskey advertisement, appearing in magazines and on billboards all over the country.

The University of North Texas has also produced an impressive list of successful alumni. Nic Nicosia (BS 1974) was included in Whitney biennials in 1983 and 2000 and Documenta in 1992, and in 2010 he was awarded a prestigious Guggenheim Fellowship. Nicosia’s work—like the work of many artists on this alumni list—is in the permanent collection of the Dallas Museum of Art. He remembers selling his photograph, River, 1981 (Fig. 7) to contemporary curator Sue Graze for a low negotiated price in 1981, when he was just shy of 30 years old.36 Other notable UNT alumni include Frances Bagley (MFA 1981), Jeff Elrod (BFA 1991), Brian Fridge (BFA 1994; UTD, MFA 2011), and Erick Swenson (BFA, 1999).

While some successful alumni have moved away from Dallas, others live and work as fixtures of the North Texas art scene. Tom Orr (El Centro, 1968–1970), Linnea Glatt (UD, MA 1972), Ann Lee Stautberg (UD, MA 1972), and Sherry Owens (SMU, BFA 1972) all have successful careers in Dallas. Many are represented by major galleries like Barry Whistler Gallery37 and Talley Dunn Gallery and serve as unofficial mentors to emerging artists who look to their careers as models.

Dallas’ university communities continue to draw top talent from around the region and nationwide. Their strength is reflected in the successful professional artists who are the product of this wide-reaching educational ecosystem, a driving force for contemporary art in North Texas.

The essays in this section offer an in-depth look at moments, people, or places that have played an important role in the development of the North Texas contemporary art scene. The first essay tells the story of the Dallas Museum of Art’s contemporary art collection in its early years, as it was developed and nurtured by key champions of contemporary art: Stanley Marcus, Algur H. Meadows, and James and Lillian Clark. Their contributions—advocacy, donation, and financial support—began shaping the world-class contemporary art collection we now enjoy. Future essays will focus on Raymond and Patsy Nasher’s contribution to public art in Dallas and a review of contemporary art in North Texas in 2013.

Contemporary Art at the Dallas Museum of Art: How Stanley Marcus, Al Meadows, and James and Lillian Clark Shaped a Collection

The art world is an ever-expanding system of networks, connected through the relationships of those who are a part of it. Looking back 50 years, a fledgling art community was beginning to emerge in postwar Dallas. The city had less than half of today’s population1 and far fewer arts organizations, so the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts (DMFA) was the nucleus of this community, the place to see contemporary art in the galleries and practice it in the Museum School.2 Until the 1960s and 1970s, when the gallery scene expanded and North Texas universities began establishing art departments, the DMFA was the leading source of support for educating and promoting contemporary artists. Through exhibitions of local artists and annual juried competitions like the Texas Annual Painting and Sculpture Exhibition and the Southwestern Exhibition of Prints and Drawings, the Museum supported area artists by showcasing their work and acquiring many of the prizewinning entries.3 The DMFA’s contemporary collecting had lacked focus until the 1950s, in part because it had no departmental curators. Direction came from a small group of board members who served on the Dallas Art Association’s acquisitions committee, guided by the Museum director.4

Jerry Bywaters was the first director to have a true vision for the future of the collections. During his tenure, from 1943 to 1964,5 Bywaters—a Texas artist—oversaw the acquisition of several important works of modern and contemporary American and Mexican art, including the Museum’s first piece of modern sculpture, Alexander Calder’s Flower, 1949 (Fig. 1), commissioned in honor of Mrs. Alex Camp and given to the Museum on behalf of the Dallas Garden Club.6 Bywaters continued to encourage collecting in contemporary American and Mexican art. As early as 1951, he developed an acquisitions plan that listed as the Museum’s priorities regional arts, 19th- and early 20th-century American art, contemporary American art, and contemporary Mexican art, suggesting an awareness of and appreciation for contemporary art despite his limited national and international contacts.7

Civic pride led many of Dallas’ elite to contribute their time, money, and private collections of art to the Museum in the hope of developing the city into a true center for arts and culture. Through these leaders’ vision, the city slowly came around to accepting more challenging work, and the Museum acquired seminal masterpieces by major contemporary artists. Their efforts often met public resistance, especially in the 1950s. The resulting schism led to the creation of an independent contemporary museum, the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts (1956–1963). Though short-lived, it was an example of the passionate personalities behind the eventual development of the DMFA’s major contemporary collections. Four people in particular—Stanley Marcus, Algur H. Meadows, and James H. and Lillian Clark—supported the growth of contemporary collecting beginning in the 1950s and continuing through the 1960s and 1970s.8 All were members of the Dallas Art Association (the DMFA’s governing body), and all remained lifelong supporters of the Museum.

Stanley Marcus: The Beginning of Contemporary Art Collecting

After Calder’s Flower, the Museum’s next contemporary art acquisition—and possibly its most important—was a seminal work by Jackson Pollock, Cathedral, 1947 (Fig. 2). The painting was given to the Museum in 1950 by Mr. & Mrs. Bernard J. Reis, who had purchased it from Pollock’s dealer, the Betty Parsons Gallery in New York. Reis was a New York collector, former director of Marlborough Gallery, and until 1975 an executor of Mark Rothko's estate.9 In 1951 the Reises also gave to the Museum a collection of prints and works on paper by modern masters André Masson, Kurt Seligmann, André Breton, Yves Tanguy, Max Ernst, Marc Chagall, Alexander Calder, and Robert Motherwell, along with a Masson surrealist print portfolio.

The gift of Pollock’s Cathedral can be credited in large part to Bernard Reis’ friendship with arts patron and civic leader Stanley Marcus (Fig. 3), president and later chairman of Neiman Marcus, who was a board member of the Dallas Art Association (DAA) at the time and would serve as vice president from 1951 to 1952.10 The story of the gift varies according to Marcus’ and Reis’ recollections. Marcus said that during a visit to New York, Reis mentioned to him in passing that he wanted to give away some works of art. Marcus, who headed the DAA acquisitions committee, seized the opportunity. He remembered saying to Reis: “How would you like to give one to our museum? It’s very hungry. It can’t get the money to buy one, but I’m sure that it would take it if given.”11 Reis suggested the Pollock in the hope of placing the young artist’s work in “a section of the country where there is no Pollack [sic] at the present time.”12 While Marcus was excited at the prospect of including such a progressive work in the DMFA’s collection, he worried that the board would not approve of the acquisition. “I’m afraid the audience won’t understand it,” he told Reis. Reis replied, “Don’t worry, their children will.”13

Despite Marcus’ interest in contemporary art, the DAA board—with the rest of the city of Dallas—was unprepared to move into the contemporary collecting realm. The Museum focused on developing a stronger European collection, with most board members expressing interest in French art, the popular trend at the time.14 When Marcus encouraged the acquisitions committee to consider venturing into contemporary or even Mexican and South American art, he encountered resistance. Director Jerry Bywaters’ taste for contemporary art emphasized architecture, contemporary Mexican art, and the art of his fellow Texas regionalists, while the Museum supported Southwest regionalist painters through most of the 1940s and 1950s.15

With the encouragement of Marcus and the acquisitions committee, in 1951 Bywaters was able acquire exemplary works by Mexico’s leading artists of the time from the Fred Davis collection,16 including Diego Rivera, David Alfaro Siqueiros, Miguel Covarrubias, and Rufino Tamayo.17 The collection was purchased from Inés Amor’s Galeria de Arte Mexicano in Mexico City, the first gallery in the country devoted to contemporary Mexican art and one of the first to show the work of Tamayo, Rivera, José Clemente Orozco, Siqueiros, Frida Kahlo, and modern Mexican artists.18 Betty McLean (Blake) also purchased work from the Galeria de Arte Mexicano for her own collection and used it as a source for art from the Mexican School that she exhibited in her gallery.19 Through Amor, Stanley Marcus met Tamayo, and their friendship led to the commissioning and acquisition of the artist’s monumental mural, El Hombre (Man), 1953 (Fig. 4).20

The story of the El Hombre commission, like that of Pollock’s Cathedral, is legendary at the Dallas Museum of Art. Fraught with drama, it began with the artist’s friendship with Stanley Marcus and was almost derailed when the painting was lost for several weeks in an abandoned freight car outside Laredo, Texas. Marcus broached the subject of a mural during a visit with Tamayo and his wife, who were in the United States for a lecture Tamayo was giving in Amarillo, Texas. The couple were expected at Marcus’ Dallas home for dinner the evening after the lecture, and they turned up several hours late, disheveled and angered over a misunderstanding in Amarillo and professing distaste for Texas and its people. Marcus, ever the diplomat, not only managed to change Tamayo’s attitude, but also persuaded him to paint a mural for the DMFA. He described the conversation this way:

About 10:30, he [Tamayo] came in with his wife, looking very bedraggled. You could tell something had happened, and I said, “What’s the matter?” He said, “We had an accident in Amarillo. Somebody hit our car, and then jumped out and called us dirty Mexican tourists. They had no respect for us, and I’m not sure that I ever want to do anything in this country.” And I said, “Rufino, one of my reasons for being interested in Mexican painting is because I think it’s the key towards establishing warm and understanding relations between our two countries. . . . This would be a good time for you to paint that picture you’ve been promising, except we don’t have any money.”21

Tamayo completed the mural, but weeks after its expected delivery date, it had not arrived. Bywaters received a telephone call from a man in Laredo, Texas, who reported, according to Marcus, that the painting had been found “in a freight car that had been shunted off on a track and lived there during the winter. And nobody ever paid any attention to it until spring came along.”22 In the end, the mural was delivered just in time to be installed for the opening of the 1953 State Fair of Texas. Along with works from the Fred Davis collection, it formed the bulk of the Museum’s holdings of art by Mexican modern masters and characterized contemporary art acquisitions in the early 1950s at the DMFA.23

Stanley Marcus’ role was not limited to assistance with acquiring works of art. He also played a part in organizing exhibitions and supporting the Museum through several political controversies in the early 1950s. In 1952, Marcus organized Some Businessmen Collect Contemporary Art (SBCCA), an exhibition drawn from the collections of some of the nation’s most esteemed business leaders (Fig. 5). As vice president and chairman of the DAA acquisitions committee, Marcus felt a special responsibility to broaden the Museum’s audience. With SBCCA, he hoped to educate Dallas citizens about contemporary art.

At the time, McCarthy-era censorship was threatening the arts. Just a month before SBCCA opened, Representative George Dondero of Michigan delivered a famous speech to the US House of Representatives24 attacking modern art as “‘Communist’ because it bred ‘dissatisfaction’ by virtue of the fact that it was unintelligible to ordinary Americans whose ‘beautiful country’ it failed to ‘glorify.’”25 Many conservative citizens in Dallas shared Dondero’s sentiments, and extreme, anti–modern art rhetoric spread across the nation.

As a rebuttal, Marcus assembled works of art from some of the nation’s most esteemed business leaders. He hoped to show the public that there was no correlation between modern, contemporary, or abstract art and communism. Loans for the exhibition came from big names in American business, such as John de Menil, Albert D. Lasker, and Walter P. Paepcke. The exhibition was a success in terms of attendance and critical response, but it did nothing to educate Dallas about the distinctions between modern and contemporary art and communism.

Just a few years later, in 1955, the Museum faced the pressures of its conservative public when the Public Affairs Luncheon Club of Dallas issued the “Resolution on the Promotion of the Work of Communist Artists” on March 14, 1955, imploring the DAA Board of Trustees to cease acquiring and exhibiting work by artists with communist affiliations.”26 Marcus and director Jerry Bywaters maintained a united front against censorship, but the board undermined their stance when, in Marcus’ absence, it released a statement relinquishing any responsibility for showing or even knowing about communist-associated art. “It is not our policy knowingly to acquire or exhibit the work of a person known by us to be now a Communist or of Communist-front affiliation, or otherwise give aid or comfort to any Communist,” the statement read.27 Marcus later expressed his disagreement with trustees’ action because it “connected art and politics, and he felt that the museum would suffer from this action.”28

Marcus again defended modern and contemporary art when he helped bring the traveling exhibition Sport in Art to the DMFA in 1956. Assembled by the American Federation of Arts for Sports Illustrated, the show was a collection of 102 sports-inspired paintings, prints, and drawings from American museums and was scheduled to travel to several venues before going on to the 1956 Summer Olympic Games in Melbourne, Australia. Though Marcus was no longer a member of the DAA Board, the exhibition was cosponsored by the DMFA and his department store, Neiman Marcus. When early promotional material for the exhibition reached the Dallas audience, it drew the attention of the Dallas County Patriotic Council, which criticized the DMFA and Neiman Marcus for supporting communist or communist-sympathizer artists.29

Marcus recalled in his autobiography Minding the Store that he received a phone call from a local business executive who informed him that the Dallas Patriotic Council had expressed great displeasure with certain paintings represented in this exhibition.30 The man advised Marcus to remove the paintings to avoid further controversy. Some of the undesirable works included Ben Shahn’s watercolor of a baseball game, Leon Kroll’s painting of a winter scene with sleighs, William Zorach’s depiction of an elderly man fishing, and Yasuo Kuniyoshi’s painting of a pair of skaters.31 The subjects of these works of art were not controversial, nor could they be linked to communism or communist sympathizers, but because of the suggestion of a communist connection, they were blacklisted by conservative Dallasites.

Rather than pull his support from the exhibition to avoid a scandal, Marcus remained steadfast and encouraged the DAA Board of Trustees to do the same. In response to the Dallas County Patriotic Council, the board reiterated its December 7, 1955, policy, a reversal of its April 4, 1955, statement on art and politics: “The policy of the trustees of the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts is to exhibit and acquire works of art only on the basis of their merit as works of art; and to exercise their best judgment to protect the integrity of the Museum as a museum of art and as a municipal institution.”32 The exhibition was shown as planned, but the fractured board viewed this latest controversy as the last straw. Several members defected to form the Dallas Society for Contemporary Arts (later the DMCA), with Edward Marcus, Stanley’s brother, serving as its first president.33

During his 60-year tenure as a trustee, Stanley Marcus was highly influential in building the Museum’s contemporary collections, and he also stood by the DMFA when his brother and other Dallas contemporary art supporters chose to establish the new museum in 1956. Though his personal collecting centered more on arts of the Americas, both ancient and modern, he was likely the driving force behind the Dallas Art Association’s efforts to keep up with the contemporary institution.

Al Meadows: A Contemporary Collecting Boom

Collecting contemporary art at the DMFA waned until the appointment of Merrill Rueppel as director in 1964.34 Under the new director’s guidance, the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts began collecting major contemporary works of art at an exciting pace. In 1965 the DAA made four major purchases: Henry Moore, Two Piece Reclining Figure, No. 3, 1961 (Fig. 6); Arshile Gorky, Untitled, 1943–1948 (Fig. 7); Victor Vasarely, Meride, 1961–1963 (Fig. 8); and Adolph Gottlieb, Orb, 1964 (Fig. 9). The new leadership must have been encouraging to local collectors, because before long, gifts of contemporary art began to fill in the collection.

One of Rueppel’s greatest achievements was the guidance he gave the Texas oilman Algur H. Meadows (Fig. 10)35 in forming a robust collection of exceptional works of contemporary art, which eventually came into the Museum’s permanent collections. Al Meadows was a major financial backer of the DMCA36 and would later develop, with Rueppel’s help, a significant postwar art collection. But he had a shaky start as an art collector and museum patron. A Texan who made his fortune in the oil and gas industry, Meadows’ interest in art collecting was piqued during a tour of the Prado Museum in Spain in the early 1950s. Encouraged at the thought of owning a collection of his own masterpieces, Meadows sought the help of art dealers who sold him what turned out to be the “largest private collection of fake paintings in the world.”37 All at once, Meadows acquired 10 paintings by “Spanish Old Masters,” followed by purchases of “El Grecos”and a few “Goyas.” Meadows continued to purchase art for his collection at a speedy rate, acquiring what he believed to be Spanish Old Masters during his first marriage to Virginia Garrison Meadows and moving into French impressionists to accord with the taste of his second wife, Elizabeth Boggs Bartholow, all the while relying on the same unscrupulous advisors who conned him into buying fake after fake for what they convinced him were bargain prices.

Local art dealer Donald Vogel got involved when he was approached as a member of the Art Dealers Association of America to evaluate the collection. Vogel invited Stefan Hahn and another associate from New York to help. When Vogel and Hahn determined that the vast majority were fakes, Meadows went to the DMFA for a second opinion from Rueppel, who backed the dealers’ evaluation. The scandal attracted national attention when Life magazine picked up the story.

Instead of giving up on collecting altogether, Meadows took action by firing his “advisors” and began purchasing an entirely new collection of Spanish Old Master paintings with the help of Spanish art expert, William B. Jordan, director of Meadows’ new museum at SMU, which opened in 1965. At Rueppel’s suggestion, Louis Goldenberg of Wildenstein & Company in New York advised him on French impressionist purchases. The results were extraordinary, as Meadows spared no expense in restoring his beloved collections—and his own reputation—to their rightful standard. As Rueppel recalled, at this point Meadows “began to buy really first-rate pictures.”38 The collection of Spanish paintings was promised to the Meadows Museum. He and his wife Elizabeth lived with the French impressionist works in their home, while most of them went to the DMFA in 1981. And he sought out contemporary works for the specific purpose of donating them to the DMFA.39

The years of Meadows’ buying spree aligned with his time as a trustee of both the DMCA and the DMFA. During merger talks between the two institutions in 1962 and 1963, Meadows appealed to DMCA board members to move the museum to Southern Methodist University for relief from the costly mortgage payments on its current location, the Slick Airways Building (for which he was primarily footing the bill).40 The board never took this option seriously, but the DMCA did play a role in developing Meadows’ idea of an on-campus art museum for the private university of which he was also a trustee.41

Of Meadows’ gifts to the DMFA during his lifetime, 11 were made during the Museum’s growth years under Rueppel’s directorship. Referred to by Meadows’ nephew, Curtis Meadows, as his “third collection,” these contemporary works include significant examples of abstract expressionism—Jackson Pollock, Portrait and a Dream, 1953 (Fig. 11);42 Mark Rothko, Orange, Red and Red, 1962 (Fig. 12);43 Lee Krasner, Pollination, 1968 (Fig. 14);44 and Franz Kline, Slate Cross, 1961 (Fig. 15)45—as well as color field painter Morris Louis’ Broad Turning, 1958 (Fig. 16).46

Meadows also played a major role in securing the gift of the Saenz collection of pre-Columbian art, and in his lifetime gave the Museum 90 objects of contemporary, European, African, and pre-Columbian art. The Meadows Foundation, Inc., an offshoot of Meadows’ business, made a substantial gift of primarily French impressionist paintings and many contemporary paintings in 1981 after his death in 1978.47 The contemporary works included James Brooks, Quand, 1969 (Fig. 17) and Ipswich, 1967 (Fig. 18);48 Richard Diebenkorn, Ocean Park No. 29, 1970 (Fig. 19);49 Robert Motherwell, In Black and White, No. 1, 1966 (Fig. 20);50 Kenneth Noland, Shade, 1967 (Fig. 21);51 Mark Rothko, Untitled, 1952 (Fig. 22);52 Frank Stella, York Factory Sketch, No. 1, 1970 (Fig. 23);53 and Clyfford Still, Untitled, 1964 (Fig. 24).54

Al Meadows left a legacy as a major player in the Museum’s emergence from its 1950s reputation as a regional museum to that of a world-class institution with holdings in certain areas that rivaled those of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. As director emeritus Harry S. Parker III noted, “Meadows had been giving these amazing paintings. . . . When you think again of what he gave during that period—I mean, there were half a dozen really great things, and the whole center court of Dallas didn’t look too bad, . . . . [In] that area, it was better than the Met.”55 Meadows’ contributions to the city of Dallas extended to Southern Methodist University, where he endowed the Virginia Meadows Museum and donated his entire collection of Spanish Old Masters. He also created the Elizabeth Meadows Sculpture Court and Garden in honor of his second wife, Elizabeth Boggs Bartholow. Both the museum and the sculpture garden opened and were dedicated on the same day, April 3, 1965.56 In addition, Meadows gave the university a group of 41 sculptures by contemporary Italian artists, which were assembled in an exhibition by Galleria Odyssia in Rome and exhibited at the DMCA in 1960.57

James H. and Lillian Clark: Carrying the Contemporary Collection Forward

James and Lillian Clark (Fig. 25) began collecting art rather late in their lives.58 They met in 1935 in New York City, where Lillian was a secretary at Johnson & Johnson and James was a securities analyst for Laurence M. Marks and Co. After living for several years in New York and California, a job as a financial advisor and senior associate with the Murchison family brought the Clarks to Texas in 1950. By 1958 the job proved too stressful, and Jim retired. On doctor’s orders for Jim’s health, he and Lillian took a trip to Europe, an experience that both credited as the beginning of their lifelong love affair (Lillian once called it an obsession) with building a collection.59

The Clarks began by focusing on 19th-century French paintings and then ventured into collecting works by post-impressionist and School of Paris artists. In the 1960s, two events encouraged the Clarks to venture into the contemporary realm: they became involved with the DMCA, and they met the New York gallerist and collector Sidney Janis. As Jim Clark told a reporter, “First I collected Oriental art, then the Impressionists, now my basic interest is the art of the 20th century, specifically the ‘classic’ part of the 20th century: Mondrian, Picasso, Pollock, Tobey.” He expressed his belief that the DMFA “should follow a course which will lead to the building of a collection of the art of our times to stay abreast of the current trends, while at the same time working through special funds and gifts to acquire the art of the past times so that Dallas will truly have a museum of fine arts.”60

This attitude reflects the Clarks’ own collection and the works of art they gave to the DMFA and Foundation for the Arts: important modernist paintings, ancient Greek sculpture, a pair of Etruscan earrings, and a seated Buddha figure61 purchased during their 1958 trip abroad. The Clarks’ earliest gifts were for the contemporary collection, with most thoughtfully chosen and given to commemorate specific accomplishments or events for the DMFA. Early gifts included Barbara Hepworth, Sea Form (Atlantic), 1964;62 Jean Dubuffet, The Reveler (Le Festoyeur), 1964;63 and Richard Lindner, Rock-Rock, 1966 (Fig. 33), presented by James Clark when he retired as DMFA board president in 1968.

The Clarks continued giving throughout their lives, and their gifts included important contemporary paintings during the 1970s: Mark Tobey, Calligraphy in White, 1957,64 and Magic Woods, 1960;65 Barbara Hepworth, Contrapuntal Forms (Mycenae), 1965 (Fig. 34); Jean Dubuffet, Julie la Sérieuse, 1950,66 and Villas et Jardins, 1957;67 Jean Arp, Star in a Dream (Astre en Rêve), 1958;68 Victor Vasarely, Paraj, 1965;69 Bridget Riley, Rise 2, 1970;70 and Constantin Brancusi, Beginning of the World, c. 1920 (Fig. 29).71

The Brancusi sculpture carries a famous story. At the time of the gift, the city had just failed to pass a bond issue that would have provided funds to move the DMFA out of its Fair Park location into the new downtown Arts District. Morale at the Museum was at a particular low, so in an effort to boost spirits and send a message to the city of Dallas, Jim Clark wrapped the sculpture in a towel, packed it in a Pan Am flight bag, took it to the Museum, and presented it on the spot to director Harry Parker and hastily assembled staff.72 This gesture not only bolstered the staff’s mood, but within a year, a $24.8 million bond issue succeeded, and planning began for the move to the Museum’s present location.73

After Jim Clark’s death in 1979, Lillian remained a major donor following the wishes of her husband, who hoped their entire collection might become part of the Museum. Between 1981 and 1991, she gave the Foundation for the Arts a pair of paintings by Joseph Albers,74 a portfolio of El Lissitzky framed lithographs,75 and a Piet Mondrian painting,76 to accompany a gift from the James and Lillian Clark Foundation of five Mondrians (for example, Fig. 30) and three important Légers.77

Through the efforts and generosity of Stanley Marcus, Al Meadows, and James and Lillian Clark, the DMA celebrates a robust and significant collection of contemporary art. These important donors and benefactors set a precedent for expanded collecting in a variety of media, including photography, video, sound, new media, and installation pieces. Works like Chris Burden’s All the Submarines of the United States of America, 1987,78 Bruce Nauman’s Perfect Door/Perfect Odor/Perfect Rodo, 1972,79 and Jenny Holzer’s I Am A Man, 1987,80 are all examples of the challenging works the DMA supports through its collections. The 2005 bequests of the private collections and future acquisitions of three major local contemporary art collectors—Marguerite and Robert Hoffman, Cindy and Howard Rachofsky, and Deedie and Rusty Rose—sets yet another precedent. Believed to be the first of their kind, these bequests are a 21st-century example of the type of cultural leadership in Dallas that began in the 1950s. These collectors’ generosity has transformed the Museum’s contemporary holdings into a living collection that can shift and adapt to swiftly changing patterns and innovations in contemporary art.

2) The official DMFA Museum School was established in 1941 under the leadership of Museum director Richard Foster Howard. For nearly 30 years, the school employed some of the state’s most recognizable artists as professors and offered classes in lithography, drawing, sculpture, ceramics, painting, and life drawing. Artist professors included Otis M. Dozier, Olin Travis, Everett Spruce, Coreen M. Spellman, Evaline C. Sellors, Octavio Medellin, Roger Winter, and David McManaway. Many Texas artists recall their studies there. The Museum School closed in 1970 under director Merrill Rueppel, who cited the emergence of university art departments in the area as serving the need it had filled. See Jerry Bywaters, Seventy-Five Years of Art in Dallas: The History of the Dallas Art Association and the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts (Dallas: Dallas Museum of Fine Arts, 1978), for a history of the Dallas Art Institute and the DMFA Museum School. See also Kendall Curlee, “Dallas Art Institute,” in Texas State Historical Association, Handbook of Texas Online (viewed on April 8, 2013); Harry S. Parker III, "Dallas Museum of Art," in Texas State Historical Association, Handbook of Texas Online (viewed on April 8, 2013).

8) The Museum’s major benefactors during the 1960s included Al Meadows, James and Lillian Clark, and Eugene and Margaret McDermott. The McDermotts gave to the Museum David Smith’s Cubi XVII of 1963, purchased from Marlborough Gallery, New York, with funds from the Eugene and Margaret McDermott Art Fund, Inc., in 1965. The Eugene and Margaret McDermott Art Fund, Inc., was established in 1960 for the acquisition of art of all styles and time periods. Most of the objects purchased through this fund helped develop the Museum’s collections of ancient American, Indonesian, and African art; the fund also helped acquire important French impressionist paintings and sculpture, ancient Greek jewelry, and American sculpture. The purchase of the David Smith sculpture in 1965 was the fund’s only purchase of contemporary art to date. The Museum’s other benefactors, including the Meadowses and the Clarks, would continue to donate works of contemporary art that built the collection throughout the 1970s and 1980s.

Other important works added to the contemporary collection in the 1960s include: Rufino Tamayo, The Blue Chair, 1931, oil on canvas, 36 x 28 3/4 in. (91.44 x 73.03 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, gift of Mrs. Alex Camp, object no.: 1965.24; Josef Albers, Study for Homage to the Square: Joy, 1964, il on masonite, 24 x 24 in. (60.96 x 60.96 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, gift of Mr. and Mrs. Roscoe DeWitt, object no.: 1966.12; Robert Motherwell, Elegy to the Spanish Republic 108 (The Barcelona Elegy), 1966, oil on canvas, 84 x 147 in. (2 m 13.36 cm x 3 m 73.38 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, The Art Museum League Fund, object no.: 1967.7; Jean Arp, Classical Sculpture (Sculpture Classique), 1960, bronze, 50 x 8 3/4 x 8 in. (127 x 22.23 x 20.32 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, Foundation for the Arts Collection, given in memory of Mary Seeger O’Boyle by her family and friends, object no.: 1966.13.FA; Mark Tobey, Echoes of Broadway, 1964, tempera on paper, 542 1/4 x 25 1/2 in. (132.715 x 64.77 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, gift of the artist, object no.: 1967.18; Tom Wesselmann Mouth #11, 1967, oil on canvas, overall: 68 x 152 in. (1 m 72.72 cm x 3m 86.08 cm), framed: 74 x 175 x 17 in. (1 m 87.96 cm x 4 m 44.5 cm x 43.18 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, Foundation for the Arts Collections, Mr. and Mrs. Edward S. Marcus Fund, object no.: 1968.7.FA. With the appointment in 1970 of the DMFA’s first contemporary curator, Robert Murdock, the Museum focused its contemporary collecting activities. Highlights from Murdock's tenure.

9) In the 1970s, Bernard Reis was involved in the lengthy legal dispute about the Mark Rothko Estate in which he and two other executors were accused of “waste and fraud of assets” in the sale of several Rothko paintings through Marlborough Gallery at a heavily discounted price. The actions of Reis and his cohorts caused their removal as executors and the cancellation of their contracts with Marlborough. The three executors and Marlborough were fined a total of $9.2 million in restitution to the estate and Rothko’s heirs. The monetary penalty caused Reis to file for bankruptcy just a year before his death. Edith Evans Asbury, “Rothko Executor Alleges Secret Sale,” New York Times, February 23, 1974; Judith H. Dobrzynski, “The Battle for Rothko's Estate Altered Lives and Reputations: A Betrayal the Art World Can't Forget,” New York Times, November 2, 1998.

13) Stanley Marcus, interview for “Dallas: A Stake in the Arts Interviews,” 1984. Reis also served for a time as the treasurer for the Albert and Mary Lasker Foundation. The Laskers were good friends of Stanley Marcus and his brother and sister-in-law, Edward and Betty Marcus. As active board members of the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts (Edward was president for a time), Edward and Betty convinced Mrs. Lasker to give Henri Matisse, Ivy in Flower, 1953, to the DMCA in 1958. The Marcus family's friendship with the Laskers also led to the exhibition of the Albert Lasker Collection at the DMFA in celebration of the Museum's 50th anniversary (Mrs. Albert D. Lasker Collection, March 6–29, 1953). The exhibition included works by major modern and contemporary artists Henri Matisse, Edgar Degas, Vincent Van Gogh, Joan Miró, Pablo Picasso, Georges Braque, and Salvador Dali. See An Exhibition of Sixty-Nine Paintings from the Collection of Mrs. Albert D. Lasker (Dallas: Dallas Museum of Fine Arts, 1953).

33) The Dallas Society for Contemporary Arts was established in 1956 by members Mr. and Mrs. Heri Bert Bartsch, Downing Thomas, John Syzmak, Norman Smith, Rual Askew, Robert Glenn, Mr. and Mrs. Howard Meyer, Mr. and Mrs. John Rosenfield, Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence Joseph, and Mr. and Mrs. Edward Bearden. The first exhibitions were on view at the Courtyard Theater until the society moved to the former Lobello Building on the corner of Northwest Highway and Kate Street just off of Preston Road in November 1957 and officially changed its name to the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts. Edward Marcus served as president of the DMCA board of trustees from 1957 to 1960. DMCA board members organized exhibitions for two years until the museum hired Douglas MacAgy as its first and only director in 1959. The DMCA moved again in 1959 to the former Slick Airways building off Cedar Springs Road. During its seven-year existence, the museum staged major exhibitions of contemporary art, including Abstract By Choice (1957), Action Painting (1957), Signposts of Twentieth-Century Art (1959), Contemporary Japanese Painting and Sculpture (1960), American Genius in Review (1960), and the first North American retrospective of René Magritte (1960). The DMCA also had a children’s art program directed by Paul Rogers Harris with Peggy Wilson and a film series organized by Major and Downing Thomas. By the time of the merger, the DMCA had acquired a collection of modern and contemporary art that was valued at more than $1 million. The DMCA merged with the DMFA in May 1963. The terms of the merger specified that “maximum effort would be made at all times to maintain the highest standards and to judge and exhibit works of art solely upon their artistic merits, free of political interference or any other form of censorship, subject to observance of applicable law and highest principles of civic responsibility.” Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts and Dallas Art Association Agreement of Merger, May 30, 1963. The merger also resulted in the establishment of the Foundation for the Arts as the title-holding body for the DMCA collection. The foundation was authorized to receive gifts and bequests to be added to the collection. The DAA and the foundation entered into a contract in 1964 giving the DAA “full possession and control (but not title) of the collection and of any additions thereto” and stating that it “may exhibit, lend and otherwise use the collection in any way it sees fit.” Dallas Art Association and Foundation for the Arts Contract, April 3, 1964.

36) Meadows backed most of the expense of the purchase of the Slick Airways building for the DMCA in 1959. The property was legally in his name, along with the names of four other stakeholders. The owners agreed to bear the mortgage obligations for a “minimum of five years even if he gave his share to the museum before the end of that time,” but Meadows’ “gift” of his portion of the building back to the DMCA in 1962 caused a financial crisis. The museum could not afford to cover his portion of the mortgage and taxes, and when it failed to raise the necessary funds, a merger became an increasingly attractive alternative to closing. See DMCA Board of Directors minutes, April 18, 1959, and Board minutes, February 15, 1962, Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts Records, 1956–1964, Dallas Museum of Art Archives.

47) Al Meadows died in an automobile accident in 1978, leaving his estate to the Meadows Foundation. He assumed he was protecting his wife and family from estate tax and giving them access to and ownership of his art collection, but in reality, this action removed Betty Meadows from her undivided interest in the collection, forcing her to choose which paintings she wanted to keep and which would remain in the Meadows Foundation collection to be given to the Museum. The remains of her selection from the Meadows Foundation collection were divided to pay estate taxes when she died just a few years later. Her son from a previous marriage, Franklin B. Bartholow, sold three paintings at public auction at Christie’s, New York: an important Paul Cézanne, Mrs. Cézanne Wearing a Striped Dress, 1872–1877; Paul Gauguin, The House of Song, 1892 (later sold at public auction three more times, most recently at Christie’s New York in 2008 for more than $8 million); and Pierre Auguste Renoir, Seated Bather, 1882. Of the works Bartholow retained from his mother’s collection, in 1986 he gave the DMFA the Edgar Degas pastel Ballet Dancers on the Stage, 1883 (pastel on paper, gift of Mr. and Mrs. Franklin B. Bartholow, 1986.277). Curtis Meadows, interview by Natalie H. (Schatzie) and George T. Lee Jr., May 29, 2003, Dallas Museum of Art Archives Oral History Collection, Dallas Museum of Art Archives. Gifts to the DMFA from Algur H. Meadows and The Meadows Foundation, Inc.

54) Gifts on behalf of the Meadows Foundation after the 1981 major gift include: Barbara Hepworth, Figure for a Landscape, 1960, bronze, 106 x 50 x 23 in. (269.24 x 127 x 58.42 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, gift of The Meadows Foundation, Incorporated, object no. 1983.154; Henri Laurens, Amphion, 1937, cast in 1952–1954, bronze, 68 1/16 x 27 x 20 in. (172.85 x 68.58 x 50.8 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, gift of The Meadows Foundation, Incorporated, object no. 1983.155; and Sam Francis, Untitled (Black Clouds), 1952, oil on canvas, overall: 77 1/2 x 59 1/2 in. (1 m 96.85 cm x 1 m 51.13 cm), framed: 79 x 60 7/8 x 2 in. (2 m 0.66 cm x 1 m 54.623 cm x 5.08 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, gift of Mr. and Mrs. Algur H. Meadows and The Meadows Foundation, Incorporated, by exchange, object no. 1985.98 (exchanged for the deaccessioned Sam Francis, When Then Opened, I, in 1985).

77) Piet Mondrian, Self-Portrait, 1942, ink, charcoal, and gouache on paper, 25 x 19 in. (63.5 x 48.26 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, Foundation for the Arts Collection, gift of the James H. and Lillian Clark Foundation, object no.: 1982.23.FA, © Mondrian/Holtzman Trust c/o HCR International Washington DC ; Piet Mondrian, Spring Sun (Lentezon): Castle Ruin: Brederode, c. late 1909–early 1910, oil on masonite, 24 1/2 x 28 1/2 in. (62.23 x 72.39 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, Foundation for the Arts Collection, gift of the James H. and Lillian Clark Foundation, object no.: 1982.24.FA, © Mondrian/Holtzman Trust c/o HCR International Washington DC; Piet Mondrian, The Winkel Mill, Pointillist Version, 1908, oil on canvas, 17 1/2 x 13 1/2 in. (44.45 x 34.29 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, Foundation for the Arts Collection, gift of the James H. and Lillian Clark Foundation, object no.: 1982.25.FA, © Mondrian/Holtzman Trust c/o HCR International Washington DC; Piet Mondrian, Apple Tree, Pointillist Version, 1908–1909, oil on composition board, 22 3/8 x 29 1/2 in. (56.833 x 74.93 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, Foundation for the Arts Collection, gift of the James H. and Lillian Clark Foundation, object no.: 1982.26.FA, © Mondrian/Holtzman Trust c/o HCR International Washington DC; Fernand Léger, Three Women and Still Life (Dejeuner), 1920, oil on canvas, 28 3/4 x 36 1/4 in. (73.03 x 92.07 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, Foundation for the Arts Collection, gift of the James H. and Lillian Clark Foundation, bject no.: 1982.27.FA; Fernand Léger, Composition with Tree Trunks, 1933, oil on canvas, 51 1/2 x 64 in. (130.81 cm x 1 m 62.56 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, Foundation for the Arts Collection, gift of the James H. and Lillian Clark Foundation, object no.: 1982.28.FA; Fernand Léger, The Divers (Red and Black), 1942, oil on canvas, 50 1/8 x 58 1/8 in. (127.33 x 147.65 cm), Dallas Museum of Art, Foundation for the Arts Collection, gift of the James H. and Lillian Clark Foundation, object no.: 1982.29.FA.

This appendix provides information about and access to the primary sources used, generated, and acquired in the course of the DallasSITES project to promote further research on contemporary art in North Texas.

A gallery location map showing the location of known galleries in North Texas, with basic information about them, was created by research project coordinator Leigh Arnold to document her findings.

Full recordings of oral history interviews conducted by Leigh Arnold as a vital part of the research process are accessible through this appendix. Interviews were recorded as either video or audio only, though all interviews are presented as video for consistency. When a transcript for an interview is available, it is presented following the video. Additional oral history recordings and transcripts will be added as they are completed.

Papers of individuals and records from organizations are primary sources of art activity in North Texas. Finding aids to these archival collections housed and accessible in the DMA Archives are included in the appendix. Finding aids for additional archival collections will be added as they are completed.

An extensive list of works consulted includes sources used for general research and works cited in each essay.

Documentation of the related exhibitions DallasSITES: Charting Contemporary Art, 1963 to Present and DallasSITES: Available Space (forthcoming) includes images, media, a checklist of works in the exhibition, label copy, and program schedules.

Gallery Location Map

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Oral history interviews form the bulk of the primary research conducted as part of the DallasSITES project. Over three years, research project coordinator Leigh Arnold met with more than 25 artists, art collectives, arts writers, and gallery owners to record their recollections of the North Texas art scene. It is our hope that the oral history project will continue as a regular program of the Dallas Museum of Art Archives. These interviews have been added to the History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection in the DMA Archives.

Edith Baker and Patricia Meadows

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Fig. fig#
Bird's-eye view of the 1936 Texas Centennial Exposition at Fair Park. From the collections of the Texas/Dallas History and Archives Division, Dallas Public Library

Edith Baker was active as an artist at the Museum School of the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts and then opened her own gallery, the Edith Baker Gallery, which operated in Dallas for nearly 25 years (1977–2001). Baker was a founder of the Dallas Art Dealers Association (DADA) and the Emergency Artists Support League (EASL).

Patricia Meadows is an ardent supporter of artists and contemporary art in Dallas, cofounding D-Art (now the Dallas Contemporary) in the 1980s and also working with Edith Baker to cofound the Emergency Artists Support League (EASL) in the 1990s.

Interviewee: Edith Baker and Patricia Meadows
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: May 30, 2012
Location: Baker Residence, Dallas, Texas

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Eugene Binder is a former Dallas gallery owner who was active in the Dallas art community from the late 1960s until relocating to Marfa, Texas in the 1990s. Binder was born and raised in Detroit, Michigan, before arriving in Texas to attend the Northwood Institute in the late 1960s. While in Dallas, Binder worked for artist Chapman Kelley at his Atelier Chapman Kelley and also worked odd jobs for artists Alberto Collie and Mac Whitney. Binder eventually went on to work at the Laguna Gloria Art Museum in Austin, the Janie C. Lee Gallery in Houston, and Carpenter + Hochman Gallery in Dallas before opening his own space in Dallas in 1986.

Interviewee: Eugene Binder
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: March 15, 2012
Location: 218 North Highland Ave., Marfa, Texas

Leigh Arnold: All right, so it is March 15, 2012. We are in the Eugene Binder Gallery in Marfa, Texas. What’s the address here?

Eugene Binder: First of all, I don’t use the “G” word.

LA: Okay. [Laughs] Eugene Binder Space?

EB: Building, exhibition space.

LA: But you haven’t—

EB: Yeah.

LA: Okay.

EB: Yeah, 218 North Highland.

LA: Okay. Marfa, Texas, and the following interview is part of the Dallas Museum of Art’s History of Contemporary Art in Dallas research project, funded by the Texas Fund for Curatorial Research. And I’m Leigh Arnold, project researcher at the DMA, and I will be speaking with Mr. Eugene Binder, former Dallas gallery owner—exhibition space owner (laughs)—who currently lives here in West Texas continuing those interests that started in Dallas in the 1980s. Mr. Binder’s history with the arts in Dallas dates back much further, and today we hope to hear some of the memories and stories he has to share with us on this subject. So thank you, Eugene, for agreeing to be interviewed.

EB: Thank you for being here.

LA: And let’s just start at the very beginning. You haven’t always been a Texan?

EB: No. I was born in Detroit, Michigan, the cultural Mecca of the Midwest, also the homicide capital of the world for more than several decades, which—elicits a certain civic pride.

LA: Right. And how did you—your parents came there from Germany?

[00:02:03]

EB: Yes. They emigrated from Germany in the mid-1920s. Well, my father came here in 1926.

LA: Did your mother come with him or did he come first?

EB: I don’t know who came first, but they met in Detroit. There was a German community, ostensibly there to work in engineering and toolmaking at various automotive companies, and they were one of a fairly large group at the time.

LA: Do you think that their status as immigrants informed you in any way in your own life?

EB: Well, I think it’s always a situation where you want to sort of become the opposite of your parents at some point in your life and where they were very cautious and had a certain life in which they were—well, fortunately for me, very comfortable. I, on the other hand, flaunted convention for certainly—especially in the ‘60s, much to their dismay. Yeah, so that was sort of the opposite of that. And fortunately, they offered me, unbeknownst to them at the time, the opportunity to be “counterculture” or whatever description you’d like to attach to that sort of mid-‘60s, early ‘60s kind of thing.

LA: Were they interested in assimilating into U.S. culture? Or did you speak German at home?

EB: Well, we spoke German in the home, but they—and as we spoke about yesterday, there was certainly a German area that they would have lived in early on. But quite soon after their arrival in United States, they became U.S. citizens. And I guess because of my father’s brief profession in business, social contacts, we were probably more assimilated than most in terms of being Americans. I did speak German at home and I was—I didn’t want to speak any English when I went to kindergarten, which was probably not as popular as it might have been—had it not been shortly after World War II.

LA: Yeah.

EB: But nevertheless, yeah, I was fortunate in that respect in their ability to provide themselves, and of course myself, with a comfortable life.

[00:06:02]

LA: Good.

EB: And I might add, my mother was very—well, my mother I guess I should say, was very interested and watched Diego Rivera paint the mural at the Detroit Institute of Arts when he was doing it.

LA: That’s so great.

EB: And she took me there as a child quite often.

LA: So you were introduced to the arts pretty young.

EB: Yes.

LA: Do you remember any specific work in the collection at Detroit that kind of—you revisited or you had an attraction to?

EB: Well, that Diego Rivera mural was interesting because it was in a long room, a long rectangle of a room with a high ceiling. At one end, it’s sort of the passage of a Detroit worker through the, as it turned out, relatively inhumane life of working in the line, producing cars and sort of this perspective of endless people working pretty much on the same tasks. So it started with the fetus at one end and a skull at the other. I guess thinking about in retrospect, it was sort of like—I think this is sort of a metaphor for getting the hell out of Detroit, which it later became.

LA: Yeah.

[00:08:00]

EB: I mean, there are a lot others that they own—a Caravaggio. They really had a well-funded board, which included the Fords. And people of very good taste bought major paintings in the ‘20s and ‘30s. And at that time, these were scions of privately held automotive companies, and they did what they damn well pleased, and for the most part have a pretty good eye.

LA: Fortunately.

EB: Yeah.

LA: So what made you decide to major in journalism in college?

EB: Well, it was sort of a compromise between art and business. It’s what my parents really wanted me to do, so I thought I’d—

LA: Meld the two?

EB: Yeah. [Laughs] I made some attempt to not be submersed into something that I knew I really didn’t want to do, although I must say, later, business probably would have served me well.

LA: Right.

EB: But at the time, it was not something I cared for.

LA: So did you write in high school then?

EB: Yeah.

LA: Creative writing, reporting, or everything?

EB: Everything.

LA: Everything?

EB: Yeah, and I continue to write. I have—well, it’s somewhere. I’d give you that article or that essay I wrote for the Seriality exhibition at the University of Texas [at Dallas], which I just pointed out because it just happened to be—

[00:10:07]

LA: Recent?

EB: Yeah.

LA: So what brought you down to Texas? I know that—well, yeah, just—

EB: Well, I was getting away from something, mainly a city that had been shocked, I guess, and certainly devastated by the riots, Detroit riots as it were, but also riots that moved to other cities around the country in August of 1967. And it felt like this was not an environment in which I had a future.

LA: But you had a future in Texas. What—

EB: I had a future in my mind. (Laughs)

LA: What specifically brought you to Texas?

EB: Well, also I had gone to a boarding school. I was away but also went to school in Michigan. But then I attended college for a year and didn’t do very well for whatever reason, and then decided at the last moment that I would, in a shameless attempt to evade the draft, seek some school that might, at the last moment, accept me, my foibles of my previous years attempt at academia and thereby give me a deferment.

[00:12:08]

LA: And that school was in Texas?

EB: It was.

LA: And what was that?

EB: It was called Northwood Institute. Well, coincidentally, Robert Smithson was there and talked to board members and other people about doing a sculpture there, which of course would have been--

LA: Amazing.

EB: Amazing, yes. He showed his short film on the Spiral Jetty, so that was a real awakening, I guess, in 19671 on contemporary art and certainly at the cutting edge and perhaps still maybe described as such.

LA: So staying with Northwood for just a little bit longer, it was this experimental contemporary art program that Chapman Kelley was trying to start there.

EB: Yes.

LA: And he did. He ran it there with—Bob Wade was there.

EB: Alberto Collie.

LA: Alberto Collie and Henry Hopkins.

EB: Yeah.

LA: Do you remember—did you take courses with Henry?

EB: I did.

LA: And what was he like as a professor?

EB: I thought he was brilliant, and he was extremely articulate and his observations were, in my opinion, profound. And of course, you have to remember that was the first and last art course I ever took, or art history course.

LA: Wow! That’s interesting.

EB: So it was really fascinating. It was quite inspirational. I mean, it inspired me to do a lot of reading.

LA: Good. Yeah?

EB: And really informed myself in a way that I thought might be along the lines of his observations and wisdom essentially. And then also the epiphany, somewhere—I guess when I was reading a lot of Barbara Rose, and I knew Barbara for a time. She was a good friend of an employer of mine years after that. But as I read Barbara Rose and I got to know her a bit, I thought, well, there are some observations, but there’s also a kind of making up of things that may or may not be accurate, but is in Barbara’s case interesting. That had some intrigue for me as well. So, I guess I could say I learned from the experts but never trusted them over my own observations in wanting to also have kind of thoughts about a narrative.

LA: All right.

EB: So anyway, that’s jumping ahead a bit, but yes, Henry was great and he’s just a wonderful instructor. Brilliantly observant of not only contemporary art but had really a knowledge of—I mean, of any period really.

LA: Did you realize at the time kind of how important it was that he was in the area, how lucky you were?

EB: Yes, because I had seen the show that he did in LA of the ‘60s, which—

LA: That 50 LA Painters show?

EB: I think it was called LA of the ‘60s.2 I don’t know, maybe not. I might be wrong but I’m thinking that happened.

LA: Yeah.

EB: In the late ‘60s, and that was a truly wonderful show. He had the power, I guess, and knew these people to put the show together and really get great work. I’m thinking it was one of the best shows that the now-called Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth ever did in terms of—it was work of that time. It wasn’t a retrospective. So it had a big influence on me. And also, I have to say that that was the time when the DMA and the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth—I don’t even know what it was called then—would have juried exhibitions every year. I’ve thought about that a lot and it really brought a certain energy. And Henry Hopkins would be the juror in some cases or—

LA: Bring somebody in?

EB: —bring someone in that he knew. So this was a pretty happening thing, and what I was later to realize was really the early stages, certainly in my development of contemporary art, but basically like Earthworks and conceptual art and dare I say, minimalism. So this was a big—

LA: Big deal?

EB: —big deal for me and an awakening. And of course, you never realize how significant it is until you see it from some perspective later on, just like growing up in Detroit. I thought, well, every city would have its Motown equivalent, but no. So yeah, it was a really interesting time, especially if you were—

LA: Young? You were what, 19?

EB: Nineteen, and this was all pretty great stuff, and these people were articulate. They weren’t confused about what they were doing. Not that they would be, but there was a very confident kind of—I mean, the work was edgy but they were—they had a vision.

LA: Yeah. Were you around when Smithson came to Northwood?

EB: Yeah. I was at his talk. There were like 12 people in the room or something. There weren’t—

LA: Where was it?

EB: At Northwood?

LA: Do you remember? Northwood, 12 kids in a room, did people get it?

[00:20:06]

EB: No, I don’t think so. But I remember he really didn’t have this outgoing personality, which is something I ended up seeing with Donald Judd. These people had this sort of—not sort of. They had this vision and they had their work, and this was an important thing. And while they wanted to project it out into the world, they also, I’m sure, had their share of naysayers. There was a certain concentration that they had that was very interesting to me in their presence, and that was getting it done.

I remember Smithson being kind of aggravated, I guess, because people didn’t jump up and say, “Yeah, I want to be a part of this.” As his other meetings with collectors in the area, and I truthfully don’t know who they were or how many they were or the idea of doing it on this campus, but I know that was a sort of disappointment, like "okay, I made my pitch and it’s not happening here. Stay? Go?"

[00:22:01]

LA: So Northwood was a pretty big moment for you in turning you on to contemporary art.

EB: Well, I was an editor of the school paper but I really became much more interested in—I worked for Alberto Collie for a while. I worked at Chapman’s gallery for a few years installing shows, meeting the artists, and that was pretty much it.

LA: That was not it.

EB: No, I mean “it” in terms of providing this—

LA: Where your kind of base came from.

EB: —interest and inspiration. There wasn’t really anything I had to think about in terms of what I wanted to do because it was obvious this was going to be a part of what I did. That sounds a little vague, but that’s about as much as I could. And just really being actively involved in this on a daily basis was quite inspiring and interesting and more interesting than anything else I could think of or came in contact with, and I guess it still is.

LA: Let’s see. So Chapman Kelley, he seemed to be pretty influential and kind of was almost a starting point for a lot of people in their careers in the arts in Dallas. Was he nurturing in that way or in that respect? Did he take on the mentor role?

EB: Well, he also was driven by making his own work, but he was very generous and had a large group of people that he was—I mean, I couldn’t imagine him not doing something for somebody. He was also the liaison for the contemporary art [program] at Northwood to people like Betty Blake, who were on the board.

LA: The Lamberts?

EB: Yeah, Evelyn Lambert. So unlike other artists that may not have been so skilled at getting people interested in the art school, he was quite effective when he did it in terms of getting more—it’s always fun being involved with projects in different buildings off campus, just a litany of things that happened while he was there.

LA: Where were you living at this time? Do you remember?

EB: Yeah. I was living in an old building in Oak Cliff with an artist named Richard Childers who had a studio there.

[00:26:09]

LA: And what was going on in Dallas around that time? Do you remember?

EB: Well, I do remember.

LA: Come on. It’s only like 45 years ago.

EB: Well, there were a lot of shows. Murray Smither had just started a gallery with Betty Cranfill. Murray had also worked for many years for Chapman Kelley. Friends of mine were having exhibitions around town. I guess at that time, I wasn’t really going beyond the city limits for—well, like I said, the museums did annual exhibitions, which was a big deal for people in my group, the Tarrant County Annual and the DMA. I guess I’d called them annuals, and who got in and who didn’t get in and who won the prize and that sort of thing, sort of—

LA: Is it political? Did artists complain that it was political?

EB: Well, artists always complain it’s political.

LA: Yeah.

EB: Or whatever, name a topic, but yeah, sure.

[00:28:02]

LA: Yeah.

EB: It’s like, “Why did this person get in and I didn’t get in?” Anyway, I think Merrill Rueppel was the director at the time and there was a prize, first prize, purchase prize. I heard this rumor of somebody discovering a Rauschenberg in the basement of the museum who submitted it when he was in Beaumont to one of the—I don’t know if this is true or not.

LA: I’m going to find out now.

EB: Yeah.

LA: That’s exciting.

EB: But that was some—I have no idea where I heard that or if there’s any validity to it. And with two museums doing an annual exhibition, it was a big thing to be—an artist who is a student at Northwood named Charles Waldrin [ph] did this—he basically stretched a canvas, primed it. It was pretty large, and then took a torch and cranked it up so that it was really smoky, and made this painting with it. I remember this guy being ostracized by the other artists who were trying to do some craft. That’s really not a good way to explain it, but certainly the idea that he, in their minds, effortlessly did this smoke painting, was anathema to the people that didn’t get paid for their shows. And I think it’s sort of the end of his art career since he was so ostracized for doing this.

LA: That’s too bad.

EB: Yeah, it is too bad because he actually had something more interesting than all the people that ostracized him. Anyway, such was the climate of the time, this being late ‘60s.

LA: Were there other artists living in Oak Cliff? Was that kind of a neighborhood that they—

EB: Well, it was cheap. It was run down. It was basically white trash. Lee Harvey Oswald’s house was a couple of blocks away from the building I lived in. Yeah, it was fine with me, and the Oak Cliff 4 or Oak Cliff 5, depending on—

LA: Oh, there's a—?

EB: Well, it was whether Mac Whitney was in the group or not.

LA: Okay, I've never heard that. Did he want to be in the group?

EB: Yeah, I'm sure he did. There's a painting—I think I have the postcard of this—that Jack Mims did of Mims, Roch, Wade, Green, and Mac.

[00:32:04]

LA: So that would imply that—

EB: That would be the Oak Cliff 5.

LA: Yeah.

EB: It was short-lived. Based on historical references, one could go either way. But Mac really wasn’t doing anything with these guys. He wasn’t a painter. It's just difficult to compare someone doing large steel sculpture with the facility, a different facility of, say, painting or the sort of photorealist thing that they were doing at the time.

LA: You worked for Mac Whitney at that time, too?

EB: Well, I think later.

LA: What kind of things did you do? What was your job for him?

EB: Just roughing out pieces of acrylic that he had cast, polished. I wasn’t making any decisions or anything. These were the acrylic works, so they just required a lot of finishing and working around certain things that had to be, for whatever reason, taken out or worked around.

LA: So how did you see yourself fitting in to this life in Dallas, this contemporary art scene, if there was such a thing?

[00:34:10]

EB: Well, I didn’t really. I felt, myself, I wasn’t an artist. I just enjoyed being on the periphery and wished that I could have or would have switched my major. It didn’t really matter anyway, but at the time I ended up spending more time with these people and being interested in their work and hanging out with them than I certainly did doing this journalism thing. Still interesting to me but dwindling in favor of contemporary art.

LA: So, you left Dallas for Austin?

EB: Yeah.

LA: What was that position in Austin? How did that come about?

EB: Well, it came about through someone I met at an exhibition at the Contemporary Arts Museum in Houston. Also, someone that Mac Whitney knew. I was ready to do something else. I was doing a lot of different things. I was working, doing installations, helping Mac work in his sculpture. I was making saltwater aquariums with Alberto Collie for the Hammacher Schlemmer catalogue

LA: For the what?

EB: Hammacher Schlemmer.

LA: Okay, yes—

EB: The catalogue. What else was I doing? I don’t know, bartending, just stuff, house painting. That was pretty much the range of my activities in terms of attempting to make enough money. And so, the idea of this job in Austin to actually have a steady paycheck was—

LA: Appealing?

EB: Yeah.

LA: So what was Laguna Gloria like when you started at the Laguna Gloria Art Museum?

EB: Well, it was the Clara Driscoll building on the lake, the house that had been built in the early teens. And I don’t know, there was a director, there was myself, there was a woman that ran the bookstore—or the gift shop and the bookstore—an accountant, groundskeeper, a woman at the art school.

[00:38:09]

EB: I think there are probably eight people, which—

LA: A small staff.

EB: —ended up, when I left, to be more like 22 people.

LA: Wow! What were they showing before? Do they have a permanent collection?

EB: They did but really not that—they were showing, like the Tarrant County Annual or whatever it was called, or the DMA Annual, Laguna Gloria also had these—there was a Texas Fine Arts Association annual juried invitation, and then there was Fiesta. There was some time left between the two, but it seemed like it zipped by awfully quick. And so we instigated more of a contemporary kind of program that—

LA: “We” being you when you started?

EB: Myself and Laurence, who was also the new director.

LA: Laurence?

EB: Miller.

LA: Laurence Miller?

EB: Yeah, which culminated I should say with us doing the Carl Andre retrospective, which went—

LA: Everywhere?

EB: Well, quite a few places as it turned out, and also to the museum—I can’t even pronounce it in French, but the Contemporary Art Museum of Montreal.

LA: Okay, so it became an international show?

EB: Yes, and it was also reviewed in Time and Newsweek. I think in one of the articles actually gave the museum credit.

LA: Oh?

EB: Yeah. So yeah, that pretty much was—there were quite a few shows I did, but that was probably the most “important.” And then my title there was always fluctuating at the whim of the powers that be, so I was just—

LA: What are some examples?

EB: Let’s see. I was the head of exhibitions. There were just a number of odd titles. And then I think it ended up to be associate curator, even though there was no other curator, right?

LA: Right.

EB: It's clearly—

LA: Why couldn’t you just be—

EB: In-charge of the—well, they’re like, “You don’t have a degree.” Anyway, I don’t know how it ended up, but basically I was the person that was responsible for organizing the exhibition.

LA: How did you come up with Carl Andre?

EB: I had seen a show of his actually at the Barbara Cusack Gallery in Houston. And actually, the choice was Laurence’s. Also, as the show progressed, I became more involved, really became immersed with this thing. It was also, in retrospect, a pretty amazing show for, I don’t know what I was at the time, like 30 or late 20s I guess. I worked with Carl’s dealer at the time, Angela Westwater, and it was not like working with the artists’ assistants. It’s just basically them and sitting around talking about works that should be included in the show and if we could get them on loan and how they would be shipped. The whole logistics of putting that together were basically myself, Andre, Angela Westwater. Laurence seemed to be involved in other museum business, obviously fundraising and the board. So I did the majority of it. And also, there was a catalogue which unfortunately did not give the museum credit but—

LA: How did that happen?

EB: Well, I just don’t really even want to get into it, but—

LA: That’s fine.

EB: Basically, it was supposed to have been published by the Trinity University Press. And for whatever reason, it didn’t happen. It just made the artist and his dealer exceedingly unhappy. And obviously, there was a catalogue that was discussed in the prospectus for the travelling exhibition that went out to every major museum in the country basically. So in the end, Ms. Westwater had it published by Jaap Rietman, the now-defunct Jaap Rietman and that was it.

LA: What did you like about museum work, or not like?

EB: I don’t know. Well, I do know. Basically, I like that you did an exhibition, however ambitiously. It had to be up at a certain time. You worked with someone or did it yourself to design announcements, auxiliary material, brochures, catalogues. At the time, I also did—I gave some gallery talks and just installed the show. For example, with the Carl Andre show, I installed it with Carl, and also did a site-specific piece for the museum, contemporary. There's Carl Andre and there was a Bob Wade installation that I think many of the trustees would have liked to have seen me fired for that.

LA: What was it?

EB: Oh, there were live chickens involved. Actually, I don’t think they were all that pleased about the Carl Andre show, but I remember it fell on me to be the person to talk about why this show was important.

[00:48:08]

LA: So you remember what you said?

EB: Not really. I remember that I had a bad cold and I had a couple of drinks. I think Mr. Miller made some comment about my talk being convincing and they agreed to do it. I think I started it out with something about—well, that the exhibition was being organized and the good news is that Carl Andre agreed to do it. The bad news is the museum can't afford to ship it.

LA: So did you have to fundraise, or did Larry do that?

EB: No. Actually, I remember Ollendorff was—I think he allowed us to—well basically, we were able to work it so that each museum paid the incoming shipping. The Ollendorff Company, and I worked directly with Mr. Ollendorff, we were able to make installment payments. But it was pretty elaborate crating job, which they did beautifully, and I'm sure you can find those two reviews.

LA: I would. I will look for them.

EB: Yeah.

LA: Was that kind of the training grounds for your next move in your next career?

EB: Yeah.

LA:In your lifelong career, I would say?

EB: Yeah. Well, I didn’t know it at the time, but then in ’79, I started at the Janie Lee Gallery.

LA: And how did that come about?

EB: Oh, I think against the—I guess I've felt like I'd been at the museum for five years and I was ready to do something else.

LA: You wanted something different?

EB: Yes.

LA: Did you know Janie Lee when she was in Dallas? How did you end up with her?

EB: Actually, I had done this show called Monumental Sculpture.

LA: At Laguna?

EB: No, at the River Oaks Bank & Trust. They have this huge lot.

LA: Is this in Austin?

EB: No, in Houston.

LA: Oh, in Houston.

EB: Yeah, which Donald Judd was coincidentally included in.

[00:52:10]

LA: What was this again?

EB: It was called Monumental Sculpture3 and it was funded by the River Oaks Bank & Trust and Kathryn Swenson, some wealthy person, who generously gave probably a lot more money here than she had intended to.

LA: Do you remember when that was?

EB: No.

LA: Before you started working for—

EB: No. I was at Laguna Gloria at the time and I was able to get some leave to be able to do this show.

LA: That’s great. And so, Don Judd was in the show?

EB: He was, and actually spending some time, I guess working with Janie Lee on something. At any rate, there was this kind of crisis moment where—I really forget how this all transpired—but basically, I called her at home when she was having dinner with Judd and I said, “Could you come by the site and just bring Judd to see if these boxes are going to be—” we’re installing and we have the crane. But also as kind of a morale booster, we’d just been working with these guys, moving around their own sculpture and everything. Anyway, they did come by and I guess everything was fine, and that was it.

LA: Do you remember what pieces Judd had in that show?

EB: Yeah, they were the pieces that ended up at the museum at Tyler. I'm thinking cold-roll steel boxes, so they would have been that dark middle—well, cold-roll steel.

LA: And that’s how you met Janie C. Lee?

EB: Yeah, that was the first time I met her.

LA: Interesting. I'm trying to think of the dates when she was open in Dallas as a gallery. Were you in Austin when—

EB: No, I was in Dallas.

LA: Yeah. Was that a gallery that was on your radar, or were you even going to galleries?

EB: Yeah, I was going to galleries. Yeah, it was a gallery that was on everybody’s radar. She had a Flavin show. She had an Oldenberg show. I don’t know if she had a Stella show but—

LA: She did. She had—one of her first shows, it's like a group show with a Judd, a Richard Morris, and a Richard Serra felt piece.

EB: Robert Morris felt piece.

LA: Robert Morris felt piece, and it was—there are some installation photographs I've seen in it.

EB: Yeah.

LA: There's a Judd stack just installed in her apartment.

EB: Yeah. Well actually, I lived on a street called Hood Street in Dallas, and her apartment was in the building behind that block of old houses.

[00:56:05]

LA: So you would have lived really close to kind of the Fairmount Gallery District, okay. So you probably had no idea that you would be working for Ms. Lee.

EB: No, I didn’t.

LA: But here, you moved to Houston to work for her.

EB: Yeah.

LA: And how long were you with her?

EB: Five years, yeah, that seemed to be my—

LA: That’s your limit?

EB: Well, I just felt like that’s—

LA: That’s enough time to do something?

EB: It’s sort of a respectable time and then it's time to do something else.

LA: How old were you then?

EB: Thirty.

LA: That’s pretty good, director of a major gallery. Do you remember some of the shows that you felt responsible for, or had a major hand in pulling off in her Houston gallery?

EB: Well, she basically chose the shows. She had a de Kooning drawing show. She had a Jasper Johns drawings show, a Joan Mitchell painting show, and like that, an exhibition that we did celebrating her two decades of working with Leo Castelli. We did a lot of things with André Emmerich. It was a time where this was possible. I know that sounds silly, but the sort of communication and awareness without the internet, which also sounds a little trite, but essentially it was—so you read the newspapers or something, but basically, the accessibility to this imagery and exhibitions and being informed was something that is not quite as easily accomplished without actually going to where an exhibition was. And my point in saying this is simply that having this work at a gallery in Houston, it became more accessible and was certainly of interest to the people that were interested in art. It was certainly top-quality museum kinds of little shows based on the size and the space.

LA: Was Houston responsive to the shows?

EB: Yeah. Houston, in my opinion, always had a bit more depth in terms of the importance of supporting those exhibitions than, say, Dallas, which I think is borne out by the museums that are already there and the depth of collecting that goes on there. Obviously, I haven’t lived there since ’84. The galleries that I know that have made a name for themselves are to a great degree supported by the art community in Houston.

LA: Did you travel a lot also while you are in these various positions or were you—

EB: No. My job was to basically run the place while Ms. Lee went to Italy for three months or went to wherever place, spend a month in New York. Actually, my job was to make that all possible, which of course meant that things had to be sold in her absence. For example, I gave a gallery talk on the Jasper Johns show that we did, but it really didn’t require someone being educated on the work. Either you saw something and you had the money and you always wanted a Jasper Johns drawing and who didn’t, and at that point it was, to some, amazingly accessible and that was basically it.

[01:02:15]

LA: So was it easy to sell?

EB: It wasn’t easy to sell—in a way, you can once again in retrospect, think, “Oh my God, I bought a Jasper Johns for $18,000.” But at the time, it wasn’t—there was still a bit of a push. And believe it or not, I remember being in Chapman Kelley’s studio and showing de Kooning paintings to somebody, and they were $15,000. At the time, it seemed like a lot of money.

LA: Yeah, in retrospect.

EB: But they were the women paintings from the late ‘60s, and Chapman also would have these works shipped down from respective dealers, not necessarily as an exhibition but to make presentations to clients.

LA: Right.

EB: And amazingly enough, quite often they decided against the work—well, not quite. I guess more often than not, but every once in a while, something was acquired. If you are not in New York and you are not getting that kind of traffic or have that kind of space, it's still not that easy. And now especially, when I started my place, you are not going to always ring up people and say—go around New York and say, “Could you ship that down?” That’s not possible anymore. You don’t really—well, people have that inventory but it’s not that—

LA: Fluid or—

EB: Well, it’s very coveted. There’s not that much work around of quality. The auction houses have certainly taken a lot of what was happening at that time and now are sort of a big factor in the sale and how things are sold. So it is a very different kind of world but at the time, it was just sort of—and again, it seemed like, "Well, this is Jasper Johns’s drawings show, great!”

LA: Were you meeting these artists? She is doing these shows that are pretty amazing.

EB: Yeah.

LA: Were the artists coming to these openings or were they—

EB: Some.

LA: Sometimes?

EB: Yeah. Mark di Suvero, Dick Bellamy—well, actually they come down—well, Mark di Suvero came to these shows, Helen Frankenthaler because she regularly did shows with Janie. Georgia O'Keeffe, Juan Hamilton, Joan Mitchell was supposed to come but didn’t. I guess it was kind of a haul for her, she lived in Paris at the time, or spent part of her time in Paris, and Nancy Graves.

LA: So in all this time away from Dallas, did you have any relationship with Dallas while you were in Austin or in Houston, or were you very in the moment when you were living in these other cities?

EB: Oh, definitely. It was a lot of work doing these shows. I didn’t really know that I would go back to Dallas or what would happen. It was just sort of that five-year—at the end of that five-year period, I didn’t always know what I was going to do, but then—

LA: Opportunity happens.

EB: Yeah.

LA: So you spent five years with Janie Lee?

EB: Yeah.

LA: Or thereabout?

EB: Yeah.

LA: And then you ended up going back to Dallas.

EB: Well, I had a little space in Houston.

LA: I didn’t know about that.

EB: Yeah, nobody knows about that.

LA: Well, let’s hear about it.

EB: Well, it didn’t really materialize or anything. Well, basically, what happened is I started in on that and then got the job offer from Laura Carpenter and her partner at the time, Irena Hochman. And I think I wanted to go back to Dallas anyway because I think Janie felt a certain competitiveness—

LA: With you?

EB: —with me.

LA: How did she feel about you opening a space? Obviously, competitive but—

EB: Well, yeah. I think there were some mixed emotions there. She was certainly—and truthfully, what occurred to me was that I am not going to be able to show this kind of work because she is doing it, and I don’t want to be calling these people up whom I knew from talking on the phone every couple of days for five years, but that’s really not my—I certainly want to be able to at least think that I can do something other than what someone else has been doing in the past that I've worked with and not have to rely on these same contacts, whether it’s dealers who they work with or clients who they work with. And so, it was almost a foregone conclusion that it would be better if I—

LA: Got out of there?

EB: —got out of there.

LA: But when you decided you wanted to do your own thing—

EB: Well, at that time I got this job offer from Laura.

LA: So it was bigger?

EB: Challenging.

[01:10:10]

LA: Yeah. I guess you are at this great job as a director of a gallery in Houston and then you hit that five-year mark and you decide, “Okay, I'm going to do my own thing.” Did you have ideas that you thought you could do something with that you couldn’t do under somebody else’s name? Where it’s just the sake of reporting to somebody? Did you want to start doing the traveling?

EB: Oh, the traveling, I was quite—no. I think it was just—I just had had enough.

LA: Yeah.

EB: And it’s just time for a change. I think there is a great danger of being somewhere and you become this—this five-year thing, you either stay—

LA: Or you go.

EB: —or you go. And I didn’t really have much of an idea what I wanted to do, and it just worked out that this situation came up and I accepted it.

LA: And aside from getting out of the competition with Janie Lee, how did you feel about moving back to Dallas?

EB: I thought things might have changed a little bit or something, but no.

[01:12:14]

LA: They were the same?

EB: Yeah, pretty much.

LA: And what were they?

EB: Well, the same group of people interested in art. It's logical that this would be after—well, it is not logical, but after a decade, there are some new faces and it was a different—the first show that I did there was a Jean-Michel Basquiat show, which is—

LA: It is pretty wild.

EB: I guess they were $12,000 at the time or something, the big paintings. And then Jean-Michel came to Dallas I think while that show was up or maybe after the show was up.

LA: And you met him?

EB: Yeah. As a matter of fact, he was quite adamant about wanting to paint my Jeep, which is the car that I had at the time.

LA: And what kept you from letting him do that?

EB: Well, it was really—I remember saying to him, “Look, Jean-Michel, I can’t really drive this thing around with a portrait of Toxic on the side and all those stuff is—” “No, Eugene, I really want to paint your Jeep.” And foolishly I opted—

LA: No?

EB: —no. Basically, I had to drive this thing everyday. But again, hindsight—

[01:14:08]

LA: How did Laura know about you? Did your reputation precede you or how did she—

EB: Well, I had actually met Laura when I was working at Chapman Kelley.

LA: Okay. So you had known her for a while.

EB: Yeah, a long time.

LA: A really long time.

EB: Yeah.

LA: Ten or 15 years at that point?

EB: I guess so.

LA: How did you meet her? What was your relationship when you were working at Chapman Kelley? What was she doing at the time?

EB: She was just interested in galleries. I remember her coming in and visiting the show. I was the only one there, and we talked a little bit. She knew one of the young artists that—actually, I shared that building with in Oak Cliff, Richard Childers.

LA: How did Dallas respond to Jean-Michel Basquiat’s work?

EB: I don’t know that we sold the show out, but there were a couple of things that were sold at the time. It was a pretty gutsy kind of thing but definitely from other corridors, i.e., New York, he definitely was somebody that was on the rise. At the time, he was no longer represented by Annina Nosei, he was represented at Mary Boone. So it wasn’t out of nowhere. There was definitely great momentum.

[01:16:17]

LA: Did Laura also—Carpenter + Hochman, they have a New York branch.

EB: Yeah.

LA: But did she work with a New York gallery like Janie C. Lee did with Castelli as far as getting inventory? How did she find the kind of—

EB: Yeah, she did. She worked with Mary Boone to get the—

LA: The Jean-Michel Basquiat?

EB: —the Basquiat show. And that was typical of how those shows arrived in Dallas, or Houston for that matter.

LA: Right. Other shows at Carpenter + Hochman that stick out in your mind or were—

EB: Well, Christo, he brought the model for the Reichstag work, full-scale model, which was huge.

LA: How big was that?

EB: I remember it was in that front room, and it pretty much took up the whole room. I'm thinking it was—well, it was done in meters, so I'm thinking it was like three meters long by—I don’t know, maybe a meter high.

LA: Did he bring Jeanne-Claude?

EB: Yeah.

LA: Did they give a talk or any type of lecture?

EB: They gave a talk on the radio.

LA: Oh, cool.

EB: Yeah.

LA: What station?

EB: KERA, I think.

LA: All right. It would be interesting to hear if they have that anymore, probably not.

[01:18:01]

EB: Yeah, and I drove him over there in my Jeep. There was this whole thing with Jeanne-Claude. She was very protective, but the show did well.

LA: Yeah. What would have been in the show, drawings?

EB: Collages.

LA: Collages.

EB: Reichstag, Valley Curtain, I think some works that would have been a precursor to The Gates at Central Park, the Parasols—that’s somewhere in Asia. I guess I should be more specific. There were some beautiful storefronts still around.

LA: In Dallas, you mean?

EB: In that show, yeah.

LA: Okay. Others that stick out?

EB: I was only there for 18 months because Laura closed the gallery.

LA: Did you see that coming?

EB: Yeah.

LA: Was there any frustration that you come up for a job and 18 months later, the job is gone?

EB: No. If you are in this business, it’s changed but I think you basically—I guess I felt I should have sold more or I could have done something to prevent it. But it was a wacky—what happens is people, all of us in this business, you can do it in a lot of different ways but, should we say Laura and Janie chose to travel at a certain level and so on, and so forth, so if you are doing this a lot, it requires a lot of money. I don’t know. Maybe there is no way to do it on the cheap, but that’s how they did it. And also the expenses in shipping, there's a lot of ways that you can do things and picking up the phone and ringing up so and so and having him ship an exhibit to arrive at your door a week later is theoretically possible but it is exceedingly expensive. And often, planning or confusion or other things would mandate that things had to be done like this.

[01:22:04]

LA: Right.

EB: Yeah, so enough said about that.

LA: Yeah. And I guess it gave you an excuse to open your own space.

EB: Well, I actually didn’t open my own space. She shut down and I asked her if she’d lease me the building and she came up with this number. At the time, I thought that was okay. And so for the first year, I was in there, or maybe not even a year, it was maybe like March through December. And then I had a temporary space while this other building was being renovated, a building of David Gibson’s, which was interestingly enough a former bindery.

LA: It was meant to be.

Well, I guess at this point, you’ve lived in Austin, you’ve lived in Houston, and had been in Dallas, and now you’re back. Did you notice anything about these cities, how they related to each other or could you characterize each city as far as their art scene?

[01:24:03]

EB: Well, they are more individualistic than one might think, and that’s not really surprising because there are different groups of people, different families, different kinds of experience with the art that these people had been exposed to, from the de Menils to Wendy Reves. It’s like wildly—there is a wild parameter of what these people are interested in, what they were doing, their acquisitions, things they acquired for the museum, people who were board members of the Contemporary Arts Museum as opposed to the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston. Of course, at the time in Dallas, there was no contemporary arts museum. It’s just very, very different in terms of how this all unfolded and continues to unfold based on personalities, and who knows? From liaisons and political alliances to feuds, so it never changes.

LA: Do you have any relationship with any of these cities still?

[01:26:05]

EB: Yeah. Actually, I probably have more of a relationship with Dallas than I do with Austin or Houston, I guess just because that is the last place before leaving for New York that I had spent some time. And actually, I would say that I spent more time in Dallas. Clearly, I spent more time in Dallas in total from ’67 to whenever it was I left, ’95, than I would have in either Austin or Houston. Austin and Houston, the five-year limitations were in effect. Dallas, for whatever reason, was a longer run.

LA: One thing I meant to ask earlier, did you have any preconceived notions of what Texas would be or what it was before you moved here?

EB: You mean in ‘67?

LA: Yeah.

EB: Nah, I had no idea.

LA: You didn’t have any idea what you were getting into?

EB: No, but I loved it when I was here. The first Friday night I was here, there were some other people from Detroit and we were driving around in Dallas. I don’t exactly know how but anyway, we asked somebody where there are some places to drink and dance and nightclubs. And there was some shaking of heads and someone says, “Well, if you go to the Red Jacket, but that’s all black, you’ll probably get stabbed,” and it was like, we were there because we were from Detroit—

LA: That was comfortable for you.

EB: Oh yeah. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that comfortable for the people that were in there dancing and not really used to having white kids in there. But yeah, and that was right next to the Stoneleigh P.

LA: The club that you are talking about?

EB: Yeah, which—

LA: Stoneleigh P is still there.

EB: —burned.

LA: Right.

EB: I mean, the Stoneleigh P burned but that—because that neighborhood at the time was sort of the edge of a middle-class black neighborhood. And I was going to the Stoneleigh P for lunch when I worked at the Chapman Kelley Gallery, which was when it was a pharmacy.

LA: Was that kind of the hangout? Was there—

EB: Well, that Red Jacket thing was basically short-lived I guess, and then I think Shannon Wynne started another Red Jacket club on Greenville, or somebody did. But at any rate, I remember the sign being at the back in the parking lot of the Stoneleigh P for years, and I wish that I would have gotten it. Yeah, so that was probably mid-September 1967.

LA: But was there a gathering place even—either time you came to Dallas and went from Dallas, was there kind of a central gathering place where artists or—

[01:30:13]

EB: No.

LA: People were spread out?

EB: Not really. It’s interesting because—I guess the Cedar Bar obviously, and Odiom, but there weren’t a lot of places in Dallas that—I don’t know. Are there any now that would be artist hangouts?

LA: Not that I know of. I guess the Meridian Room is kind of a gathering place down in Fair Park/Exposition Park area.

EB: Which would be the old State Bar.

LA: Okay.

EB: Yes. That was a hangout.

LA: Yeah, the State Bar. Because that would have been right around the corner from your space.

EB: Yes, it would have. I can attest that come about 5:30, there is nothing more that I wanted than to assuage the previous night’s martini then.

LA: And to start back up again.

EB: Tonight’s martini or multiples thereof.

LA: Is it still like that?

EB: No.

LA: Can you get a good martini in Marfa?

EB: I don’t know. I don’t think it would be good for me, too.

LA: Start back up in that lifestyle.

EB: Yeah, but it was great while it lasted. I think the State Bar lasted five years. Anyway, now that you mentioned it, the State Bar—well, you mentioned the Meridian, or where it used to be. And oddly enough when I worked with Alberto Collie in this little small studio to fabricate these saltwater aquariums, it was this little space next to the State Bar, which at the time was a Mexican bar called LaMana I think, or something.

LA: The what?

EB: La Mana(ph).

LA: La Mana, the hand? I don’t know.

EB: Yeah.

LA: And that Collie job was your first?

EB: That was one of many as I mentioned when I was talking about—

LA: One of your many jobs that you had before you—

EB: Installing exhibitions, yeah, housepainting, you name it.

LA: So, how did you cultivate your relationship with local artists?

EB: Oh, I don’t know. Cultivate—

LA: Establish?

EB: Well, basically someone would start a new gallery in Dallas and everybody would race over to want a show there because it was—

[01:34:03]

LA: New?

EB: Yeah.

LA: So, when you opened, people were thinking, well, did they have—I guess when you opened your own space within Laura’s old space, did you get that stampede of artists?

EB: Yeah. Well, it's basically when one place closes—Laura had amazing exhibitions. And when she decided to close, obviously some people wanted to continue in another venue or somehow continue showing. Obviously it's a livelihood. It's an important thing to someone who’s in a fairly limited kind of place anyway in terms of choices of galleries to show.

It's just an interesting phenomena and I got to the point where people that I've worked with, I would just say, “Well, if you're not happy here, I’ll give you your slides. Go over to Gerald Peters.” There was this phenomenon that would happen where some artist that was represented by another gallery would make an appointment with me and sit down and say, “Well, I'm not happy with my current gallery and I just want to feel out how it would be just to”— That was the short version. And then I would say. “Well, while you and I are sitting here talking and going down the list of all these things that you're dissatisfied with, there's someone that I represent at another gallery saying the very same thing.” So it’s sort of how it is. I recall that the people that I would give that example to didn’t think it was that funny.

LA: Did you have kind of your own idea or any factors that you took into consideration when bringing an artist into your stable or seeking an artist out?

EB: Well, obviously a prerequisite is to have seen one or usually considerably more exhibitions of the artist’s work over the years, or maybe had the artist in a group show—I don’t know. I would like to think I was pretty careful about making these choices, but never careful enough. There's a funny thing that can happen, which is things really go well and the artist for, maybe not reasons that are going well, but for maybe other reasons has an explosion of creativity or it suddenly does work that blows out all the limits of previous work that they’ve done or starts working on a different imagery. Just knowing the things that can happen that either they change in a way that people really respond to the work or—I mean, anything can happen.

And doing these kinds of shows, I would like to think that I could have, or maybe did at some point, create a situation in which the artist was inspired or somehow felt confident to do work that may not have been within previous parameters of what they’ve been doing, if that makes any sense.

[01:40:09]

LA: Yeah, it does. How do you find your artists usually?

EB: Oh, really there are not that many people that you want to show or I would want to show. I try to keep it small just because expectations were such that you really wanted to be able to deliver the artist’s show, really make the exhibition great. And quite frankly, there's—if you're showing zillions of people of mixed qualities, then the cachet of being a good gallery vanishes, so that’s kind of how it worked.

LA: Your first exhibition as EB in Laura’s space was contemporary Italian artists.

EB: Yeah.

LA: So, what made you decide to do that? How did you come up with that idea?

EB: Well, I had done this work on the Carl Andre show, who is an artist that Angela Westwater represented. And then as time went by, I stayed in touch with her. We got along great despite the snafu of the catalogue that, in fact, was not printed by Trinity University in San Antonio. And then I went to New York as much as possible looking at shows that she did at 142 Green St. at the time. And her partner, Enzo Sperone, was instrumental in discovering these young Italian artists. At the time that work had just popped on the scene in New York, it really had not been shown outside the confines of Manhattan or Milan. It was wonderful because the Sunday New York Times magazine cover had Francesco Clemente the day after I opened with his work in the show.

LA: You can’t buy that kind of publicity.

EB: Well, sometimes you’re lucky and sometimes you’re not. It was just a nice moment. I got to say Angela was very generous in giving me everything I wanted and there was a big space, 6,500 square feet. So the show happened and that was I guess March of ’86?

[01:44:15]

LA: Can you describe for me a typical opening in your gallery and reception and who was there? You don’t have to name names, but I mean, was it your typical crowd? Were they buying? Were they just glancing? Were you serving cocktails? Did you allow smoking in your gallery?

EB: Gee, I can’t even remember. Well, first of all, this show would have been up certainly a few days early and people on my list would have been contacted to come in and see the show. I remember explaining this to some writer who kind of bristled at the idea that there would be a—

LA: Private showing?

EB: Yeah, or somebody could come in and get something before everybody else. I said, “Well, welcome to the art business.” So the idea was obviously to sell as much work as possible prior to the opening. I guess it was at the time where I would have red dots on the wall, which seem to mean something to somebody or validate the thing. I remember the opening show was very low key because I think we did it from 2 to 6 or something. It wasn’t even an evening opening. And over the years, I did a lot of—I would have a collectors’ preview cocktails of this or that.

It’s basically spinning the stuff around so it seems like it’s something special. And then after you do it for a couple of times, it’s not special anymore and you have to think of something else. But basically, that’s pretty much gone through all the people who might be interested in acquiring something out of that specific show. The opening reception at that point in my life was pretty much—you really need to get it done by the opening reception. And some people would come and—but the idea of someone buying something in an opening, it’s not something you could leave until, in my opinion, the last moment. So a lot of work had to be done prior to this moment of the opening.

LA: So what was the opening for you then?

EB: It’s nothing. I mean, it was a social setting. It’s people wanting to come to an opening and some of them were actually fun. It was a nice gathering of people but to me, it always was—unfortunately in some circumstances, and it was not the case, but it was something that I certainly tried to create as kind of like, okay, it’s an opening and we’re celebrating the artist and this, but the sales thing is something that requires more effort and concentration than leaving it up to the capriciousness of someone coming to an opening and deciding they want something. That happened, but it’s not something I thought particularly smart to rely on.

LA: Did you learn that by experience from your work?

EB: Yeah because mainly, I was responsible for these things. After the opening, the show was old news and the thrill is gone so to speak. So if you don’t jam it before the opening, then it’s a lot harder to sort of bring people back. A review might help or something, but basically it’s not something that should be left to chance if you want to maintain your job.

[01:50:17]

LA: Right, if you want to stay.

EB: Yeah.

LA: How did EB, your space, how did it kind of situate itself within the broader context of the Dallas art scene?

EB: I have no idea. I wasn’t—

LA: Did you participate in the DADA gallery walks?

EB: I was a founder.

LA: Oh, you were?

EB: Yeah, of DADA, yeah. That was kind of a silly name, but anyway.

LA: I guess what I’m asking is if you were to say “I wanted my gallery to be thought of as this or that,” or having had done something, what’s the legacy I guess of your space in Dallas?

EB: I don’t really know. You’re doing this activity of organizing exhibitions and making choices from who you’re going to show it or where the works are being installed, to pricing, to trying to get the people to write about the work, to producing the catalogue, to writing about it myself, which obviously I want to be the best possible thing of all those categories or the best possible quality of all those categories. And how that gets positioned in the Dallas art world, well, you certainly want it to be the top of people’s impression of the top quality or something not always attainable, not for whatever reasons.

But I didn’t really—I guess I could say I didn’t really care about people’s opinions. I certainly had a pretty good idea of how I wanted it done, how I wanted it to appear and what needed to be accomplished for this to happen. But certainly you either did it or you didn’t. Once it’s sort of up to someone’s opinion—again, like selling before an opening, at that point you don’t really have to—you can’t go around changing someone’s opinion. You really have to do the job, make the choices to have this happen and have someone form an opinion that is positive or you don’t. You don’t get paid, basically.

[01:54:07]

LA: Speaking of opinions, what was it like to have two newspapers, and was there any kind of alternative source to get your art news or art criticism?

EB: Well, two newspapers were good. Circa 1986, the shows would have been reviewed by—you know, it’s one of these things where it’s basically if some review happened in the Times Herald, I’m sure the editor would say to the art critic, “Don’t you think we ought to have a review of this show? It sounds pretty important.” And with one paper, you don’t really have that, so then without that competition, you don’t have as interesting of coverage. It’s not only that the coverage diminishes, but there’s not any reason to be “on the spot” or get the “scoop” or get an in-depth article out of a particular exhibition.

LA: Yeah. The sense of urgency is kind of gone.

EB: I would never put my closing days.

[01:56:00]

LA: I think I noticed that when I was trying to get an idea of your exhibition history.

EB: Because someone would be like, “Okay, I’ve got this time to get a review done,” and then something would come up or it would go by the wayside or even if it did—I mean, in a way that—anyway, sometimes a late review would get some people in at the end of the part of the show. That was rarely the case.

LA: Was there a difference in the kind of coverage that the newspapers provided? A difference in quality, a difference in—I don’t know.

EB: Well, these are people that—

LA: Was it quality criticism?

EB: It wasn’t criticism.

LA: It was just reporting.

EB: It was basically opinions about the work, information about the artist, that kind of thing. I don’t know. I think that’s basically just reporting on an exhibition. I can’t remember if anybody came out and said, “This is really a bad show.” I guess if I can’t remember it, it—

[01:58:01]

LA: It didn’t happen.

EB: Or it didn’t happen to me.

LA: What was your relationship with the museum, or was there a relationship with the museum and galleries?

EB: It just depended on who was there at the time.

LA: Do you mean directors and curators?

EB: Yeah.

LA: Was there a director that was particularly supportive or available or around?

EB: Harry Parker was very supportive. I remember he and Ellen came to my opening in 1986. I mean, he wasn’t necessarily going to buy anything, I understand, but it was nice to have him breeze in and breeze out. Jack Lane, a little bit more elusive. Rick Brettell would occasionally come by, but we definitely have, shall we say, a different way of doing things. And the curator was also—just depending on the personality. Some are wanting to be more outgoing than others. Annegreth Nill bought some things out of a couple of shows. Other curators prior to her could care less. So it just really depended on the person.

[02:00:11]

LA: And how did you balance showing local artists and emerging artists? Did you show emerging artists or did you want to show artists that had been given shows and were a little more established?

EB: I did very little of that and I actually wish I would have done more with the, as they say, blue-chip artists.

LA: Why?

EB: I guess just for maintaining contacts in that area, and also having less sales but for larger amounts of money because I had done that for so many years. I wanted to do something a little different. But in retrospect, I probably would have done more of the— Of the established work, not necessarily Jasper Johns or Jean-Michel Basquiat, but it’s not a bad place to—

LA: Come from?

EB: —have a platform as it were.

LA: Right.

EB: But I just had done that so much it just seemed like I wanted to use my judgment as it were.

[02:02:10]

LA: And did you ever see yourself as that person who kind of developed an artist from “emerging” to “seasoned?” I mean, when I think of John Pomara, he credits you with kind of putting him on the map. Did you ever recognize that or did you ever see yourself in that role?

EB: No.

LA: Did you want to be seen in that role?

EB: I don’t really care. As long as the work was good and—sorry, I'm just thinking about something else. As long as the work is—it’s sort of like what I was saying earlier, if you can create a situation where the artist is really going even beyond what he thought or she thought were the confines of his or her work, it’s a good situation. And it’s so tricky because it’s not always like, “Oh, you just had a solid show.” That’s always helpful.

LA: Yeah.

EB: It’s very, very difficult to predict or you try to make this situation happen but it’s not quite as easy as it sounds. And all these variables really have to be just right there.

[02:04:13]

LA: How did the Berlin exhibition happen?

EB: I wanted it to. We came up with this flimsy notion of whatever it says in the catalogue, 150th anniversary of Texas and 750th anniversary of Berlin, which of course is—Berlin is a city and Texas is a state. All the great print people thought it was wonderful, I guess, but it really didn’t happen for any kind of—

LA: Any other reason besides your personal interest in that.

EB: Yeah.

LA: But was your space open? And if so, why was it at the Crescent Gallery, I guess?

EB: I don’t remember what the circumstances were. I guess they were paying me a curatorial fee, which never happened at the end of the show.

LA: Oh no!

EB: And then I got Pan Am, too, which is kind of funny sounding. It’s certainly a retro thing, but I got Pan Am to pay the flight—I mean, ship the work over here, then I have to get somebody else to crate the stuff and bring it to the airport, and then we had customs. So I really couldn’t do it by myself. I agreed to do it and they had some PR people.

[02:06:28]

LA: That’s how it happened?

EB: Yeah, I just couldn’t really—

LA: So when did you start traveling to Germany frequently?

EB: Well, my first trip to Germany was in 1950.

LA: As a child?

EB: Yes.

LA: Very young child?

EB: Yeah, so early Documenta shows were interesting to me. It was also interesting that a New York artist named David Salle basically knocked off Sigmar Polke and for years got away with it until people finally figured it out. Well, people would look at a Polke and say, “Well, that looks like David Salle,” but essentially—

LA: It’s the other way around, yeah.

EB: And again, just like bringing work from New York during an era where the communications were much different and things weren’t quite as accessible and the immediacy of all that as they are now, and also because in Dallas at the time, there was not really a lot of interest I guess in European art. I guess there was, but people really had, in a way, to see much of it or know about certain currents of activities, work being made in Europe as much as they would now. Okay, I just lost the point here.

LA: Germany, your trips to Germany—

EB: Yeah, so it was interesting to me to see these exhibitions that were organized, and then I obviously began doing them myself.

LA: Yeah, and I guess this all culminates in you opening a gallery in Cologne?

EB: Yeah.

LA: Which we kind of got into yesterday, but at the same time, for posterity, it might be interesting to hear the story of what took you to Germany, why open a gallery there, why not just bring the work over here and show it in Dallas? What about having a gallery in Germany was attractive?

EB: Well, my idea was to establish a European market for some of the artists I represented.

LA: Okay.

EB: And the interesting thing about that is nobody else really thought that was a good idea. And to this day, I really can't understand why not. But I was sort of like, okay, we don’t really—well, I guess people worry about their work travelling so far, whether it would come back, how this work would be received out of context.

There’s a lot of legitimate concerns. But to me, well, if this thing could have really happened, which it didn’t, I'm thinking that—it might have been nice to have a group of European collectors or build a following via art fairs and stuff in Germany, and also because of the—at the time, I thought the European economy could persevere where it would be a low in the United States economy. But obviously, that’s not possible.

But certainly, if someone could have really gotten some traction there, I think it would have been a good idea. But I don’t really think anybody else was with me on that. And also, the timing as it turned out was incredibly bad because the Gulf War started shortly after I was there, which the dollar sunk to an all time low against the Deutsche Mark—well, Deutsche Mark since its inception shortly after World War II. So that meant my fixed costs went up like a third overnight and things began to be very difficult.

LA: It’s interesting because I feel like Germans have this romanticized version of America and the Wild West, and I am characterizing Germans of the ‘80s, but I am actually thinking more of like George Grosz and the earlier German artists.

EB: Actually, George Grosz was in Dallas.

LA: I know, yeah, and we’re having a show of his watercolors that he did this summer, so you should come by. So I'm wondering if those kinds of notions still were in place in the ‘90s, in Germany in the ‘90s. Were they still thinking of America as this Wild West? And for you to be bringing Texas artists to Germany, what kind of response was that getting out of German art collectors?

EB: Well, it was getting a great response, but basically, it came to someone actually buying an artist out of context that they did not know from an American gallery, that was not going to work. Whereas, David Zwirner who obviously—his father had a gallery there at the time and in fact, I remember David Zwirner’s first show at his father’s gallery, which was like a Jason Rhoades installation. I think that’s right.

Yeah, that whole plan was all wrong. I guess you have to experience that to really realize that it was all wrong and there was no other way to do it. But Germans really aren’t that open when it comes to a new gallery started by an American, artists of the region of Texas in this case. It was simply not to be and unfortunately, I was quite—well, I just wanted to succeed obviously, so I kept it going longer than necessary to prove a point but I didn’t want to have proven.

LA: Right.

EB: So that’s kind of how it all went.

LA: Do you have any exhibitions that you look back on as being successful, not in terms of financially successful, but just successful as being really well received by Dallas, or maybe opening Dallas up to something new that they received well?

[02:16:12]

EB: Yeah. I’ve done a quite few exhibitions. Actually, in Germany, I did one with Janie Lee, which was—one of the things I was trying to find was a poster for that exhibition, which was like Barnett Newman drawings.

LA: Wow!

EB: And de Kooning drawings of the surrealist period, and it was a major show.

LA: And that was in Germany?

EB: Yeah. I also did an outsider show there. I had a couple of William Edmondson sculptures and half a dozen Bill Traylor works. It was an extraordinary show and I think a lot of people came to it at the time, but still it was not going to happen.

LA: Yeah.

EB: In Dallas, yeah, there were a lot of shows.

LA: Anything more memorable?

EB: Anything more memorable? You know, the interesting thing about that is that there are—like John’s [Pomara] first show was—not his first show, but his second show, which is that article.

LA: Right.

EB: And in fact, I have images from that from which I was going to make a catalogue. And that really put him in a different level in terms of the work that he was creating and all the things that we talked about a few moments ago. It’s interesting because I'm just sort of blanking out.

Jonathan Lasker was a great show. Jonathan came down for that at a point where he wasn’t quite as well known. Jonathan is an interesting artist because he’s really not well known by a majority of people, even now. There’s a guy named Roscoe West who used to be an assistant of Kenny Price, who did a Day of the Dead show a couple of times. It was really great. There were a lot of shows that—and obviously, I'm not listing them specifically at the time that ended up being surprisingly wonderful.

The Richard Schaffer show at the time nobody felt compelled to review. But usually, what happens is that other things have to happen to validate this work. And by that, I mean museum exhibitions, museum acquisitions, other museum shows. It just really requires much more than a gallery show.

Again, there are a lot of variables that may or may not be able to be brought into the equation in terms of—there is just a hell of a lot more cultural gatekeepers now than there were before. There’s a whole bevy of curators and there’s this and that. For example, the Whitney Museum came here a week ago and, they didn’t come here, but I think that’s because they really don’t want to see new things that haven’t been validated, or in my personal theory is that the last thing they want is to be in a space to see something they’ve never seen before and have someone ask them what they think because that hasn’t been clarified by previous cultural gatekeepers and the whole validation process.

As it turns out, I'm not the least bit interested in any of that and it really ends up being when I walk, ride my bike, or drive two blocks from my house to here, do I like the work on the wall when I turn on the lights everyday?

LA: And that’s it?

[02:22:00]

EB: Yeah. I guess I could be out at Basel Miami and maybe it’s my age or this or that and who knows, I might be buzzing around there at some point in the future, but I don’t really care about that periphery. This little area in here of—well, these two little rooms in here of approximately 3,600 feet are what I can install, choosing the artist’s work that I want in the way I want, and everything in the world that happens outside that parameter is not something I have much responsibility for. And if somebody wants to come in and look at something and say, “Oh yeah, this is interesting,” I certainly would enjoy that and I certainly will try to make that happen in any way I can. But increasingly without some peripheral activity or other validation, people aren’t really making those judgments, and that’s just my observation.

LA: Yeah.

[02:24:01]

EB: And I got to say, yes, I would like them to do so, but I think it’s just how things are at this moment. Getting back to Gerhard Richter, he’s 80 years old, so it doesn’t happen overnight and it takes a long time to get all these things in line and certain situations and certain imagery and again, a litany of variables which may or may not achieve success, and I'm not sure I really would know what that is in a way. I can’t really say that I’ve been wildly successful. Some things have been; others haven’t been. I certainly don’t have any regret. I think that’s just how it is, and it takes a different kind of person perhaps than myself to have a sort of social thing happening where regardless of the work somebody has a bunch of people coming and buying it because it’s so and so.

LA: Yeah.

[02:25:56]

EB: I mean there’s a lot of different ways that people are able to accomplish this, and I've been very lucky in having these moments, but I guess I'm really not that interested. I'm interested in the work but the peripheral activity in which to make this a great success, I think that’s for someone else to—usually, the way it happens is somebody will see it here and then they will go to the next level. But I'm more interested in the discovery part, which of course has an inherent flaw because the discoverer doesn’t really—basically, the situation in New York, for example, in which a gallery shows arts for many years and then Gagosian picks them up.

EB: The hard work is really what that gallery does in the early stages, because these women [he is referring to parents with two young children who had come into the gallery at that moment of the interview] have opinions, and they are happy to discuss the things that they like and respond to and not to worry about whether someone else has validated it before they’ve walked in the door, so there you go.

LA: So after your gallery in Cologne, do you come back to Dallas?

EB: Yeah.

LA: And continue your gallery show or your exhibition space in Dallas for a few years?

EB: Yeah. I moved from 840 Exposition to a Commerce Street location, which most people saw as a comedown.

LA: Really?

EB: Yes.

LA: Why?

EB: Or a comeuppance.

LA: What was that about? I don’t understand.

EB: Well, I couldn’t afford to be in that space any longer—

LA: The 842 Exposition?

EB: 840 Exposition I think it was, yeah.

LA: Yeah.

EB: And my lease was up, and so I thought I would find something else for less money. Also, I wasn’t quite getting the crowd that I had been getting at the Exposition [space]. It was just one of those funny things where it’s all right for a while and then—I can’t really explain it. Anyway, this was a little closer to downtown and obviously on Commerce Street, which I thought everybody would know, being one of the three main streets of Dallas. But as it turns out, there was some confusion. You know, Deep Ellum, I don’t know whether that was a draw or not, probably not. Anyway, I think I was in there for—actually, I liked the space and the McGrath, the Elizabeth McGrath catalogue had one or two installation shots of that. I guess I was there two years or something.

LA: And you noticed there was kind of a difference between when you were there in Dallas before and after Germany?

EB: Yeah. I had of course this big blow-out with my gallery space in Cologne, which was next to Sotheby’s. The economy, the Gulf War, basically it was a hard time and I thought I could come back and it was—things always change.

[02:32:07]

LA: Yeah.

EB: That’s just how it is, and it didn’t really—and the other part of that is that I changed and I didn’t feel like I wanted to—once again, the five-year plan of there’s got to be something else. I basically came back from spending a lot of time in Europe for a lot of years and not being altogether happy about continuing in Dallas through situations of my own making and through financial hardships. So it just seemed like a good idea to make that next five-year plan.

LA: Yeah. You’d given Dallas quite a bit of time actually.

EB: Yeah. I was very fortunate. It was a time and moment that I just had some resounding successes. Again, it’s just how a business works. You do not sell every exhibition out, and they’re not all wonderful, even though some of the ones that would be deemed unsuccessful to me were the most memorable and the most interesting.

It’s really hard to know in advance certainly, but even if something closes without selling anything, it sort of gets back to controlling the aesthetic in a white room that you invite people to come into and see what they think and if they want to come away with anything. And sometimes there is great enthusiasm and sometimes there isn’t. That’s kind of how it works.

LA: Yeah. So you go to New York, and how long are you in New York?

EB: I opened—

LA: I guess you’re still kind in New York.

EB: Yeah, I'm still in New York.

LA: Yeah.

EB: In fact, someone—I think I’ve mentioned this to you, but someone came by the other day and said, “Well, now is the time to be in that neighborhood.” It’s just now starting to—

LA: Pick up again?

EB: Yeah.

LA: You’re talking about—you mentioned you’re just kind of not interested in the peripheries and these validation, levels of validation you have to go through. I’m wondering, is that what brought you to West Texas? Because you’re kind of isolating yourself in a way. There is no “art scene” here the way you would have an “art scene” in Dallas.

EB: Well, but there is during certain times a year, which is awfully sparse. And that’s also changed, in this environment. I came by opening this place whimsically, at best.

LA: Had you been out here before?

EB: Yeah.

LA: For Chinati, for—?

EB: I'd been out here for Chinati—I was out here in 1986 actually with a group from the DMA.

LA: Oh, okay.

EB: As we mentioned earlier, I met Judd at the Monumental Sculpture exhibition, whenever that was, so I'm thinking 1978. [Monumental Sculpture was held in 1975 in Houston, Texas.] I bought my house here on a whim like at night from the car.

LA: From the car?

EB: Well, it was kind of a drive-by thing.

LA: Like driving by and seeing the “for sale” sign and calling?

EB: Well, there wasn’t even the sign. I was driving by with a realtor who had just come in from vacation. She didn’t really know what the—anyway, and then it was okay, you're here, now what do you do? And for a few years, this was sort of a playground of the A-list in terms of discovering Chinati, and now it’s slightly different, and that’s how it works. I certainly have enjoyed every minute being here, and I love the climate. I love the light. And where this leads, I have no idea, so we’ll see.

LA: Do you have any sort of relationship with Dallas now?

EB: Yeah, I have lots of friends.

LA: Do you go back frequently?

EB: I wouldn’t say frequently, less each year actually, but I do—yeah, there’s a great group of people there that I enjoy seeing.

LA: Did any of your collectors in Dallas—

EB: By great I don’t mean necessarily large, but a small group of great people.

LA: Did any of your collectors—do you have a loyal group of collectors I guess to have followed you, anybody that’s followed you from Dallas to New York to here?

EB: Yeah.

LA: And same with the artists?

EB: Yeah.

LA: That’s good.

EB: Yeah.

LA: How have you changed?

EB: I’ve gotten older.

LA: Besides that?

EB: I don’t know. That would be a question that someone else would have to answer.

LA: You’re older and wiser and—

EB: Not at all wiser. In fact, I'm sort of feeling like I might be ready for some wild fling of high risk, who knows what.

[02:40:18]

LA: Where do you go to look at art?

EB: Where? Well, studios, I visit a lot of studios, go to a lot of museum shows.

LA: Are there major cities you’re attracted to more than others?

EB: Yeah. New York. LA really never worked for me. I'm sure there are a lot of great things that I've missed over the years. I mean it never worked just because of the whole layout that you have to drive a car. That sounds so fussy but basically I just don’t want to drive. I like to walk. I like to have that whole thing. And New Yorkers are, which I'm now putting myself in the context of, but are very spoiled and very—they want it that way and that’s basically it. And Europe—

LA: Do you go back to Germany a lot?

EB: Not a lot. Let’s see. I think about a year and a half ago, I went to Munich and Berlin and went to see the Caravaggio show in Rome.

LA: That would have been nice.

[02:42:04]

EB: And obviously the churches that the paintings have been in for the last 400 years plus. Actually, there was an anniversary of his death, so they would have been in there longer. And look at galleries there, I have friends, mostly in Germany. It’s an important part of me basically continuing to look and see—you know, while I was in Rome, I wandered into wonderful Morandi show—I'm sorry, now the name escapes me. The Morandi show, I saw, was at the Met. Anyway, de Chirico.

LA: Oh, okay.

EB: It was just phenomenal. I had no idea. I just walked by the side on the street. And then gallery shows. I, on the other hand, enjoy walking and seeing work that I haven’t seen before. And to me, it’s just the greatest thing in the world, so it’s difficult for me to understand why people just don’t want to explore.

[02:44:00]

LA: Well, because this is a history of Dallas, I'm going to ask you a question that you may have a very quick answer or you may have to think about, but do you have a favorite memory or a favorite story in relation to your time in Dallas?

EB: Gosh, there would be lots.

LA: Anything you want to put down?

EB: Well, for quite a few years, I enjoyed talking to a woman there named Dorace Fichtenbaum.

LA: Who is she?

EB: She is a very low-key person who is really quite a wonderful woman and really enjoyed looking at art without much pretense and just really was a very special person.

LA: Okay. Anything else you want to get off your chest?

EB: Oh, no, that’s not really on my chest. I just enjoyed her company for a lot of years in terms of looking at things at my place, looking at things in New York, looking at things in Europe, always somebody who is ready to see new work and spent a lot of time with the work. But I have a lot of great memories from Dallas. I just don’t know where to begin, but basically just fun stuff. I was treated very well there. People were supportive. I'm just trying to—maybe you’re searching for some specific incidents that I could relate. But there were just a lot of wonderful people that were amazingly supportive and really kind of open-minded.

LA: Good. That was all my questions for you.

EB: Okay.

LA: But do you have anything else you want to share?

EB: No, I don’t think I do. Should I?

LA: We've been talking for quite a while, but it went by pretty quickly.

EB: Yeah, it’s great fun.

LA: It was. Thank you very much.

EB: Sure.

LA: And a lot of people are going to benefit from this, I think.

EB: I don’t know about that.

LA: Good.

[02:48:15]

Anne and Alan Bromberg

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Anne and Alan Bromberg have been active in the Dallas art scene since the early 1960s. Anne has been on staff at the Dallas Museum of Art for nearly 40 years, first as a lecturer and docent trainer beginning in 1962, as head of the education department, and currently as The Cecil and Ida Green Curator of Ancient and Asian Art. Alan is a lawyer and professor at Southern Methodist University and in 1963 worked on the merger agreement between the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts and the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts.

Interviewee: Anne and Alan Bromberg
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: October 16, 2012
Location: Bromberg Residence, Dallas, Texas

Laura Carpenter and Nic Nicosia

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Laura Carpenter is the former owner of Delahunty Gallery (1974–1984) and Carpenter + Hochman Gallery (1985–1986), both located in Dallas.

Nic Nicosia is a photographer born in Dallas. He received a BS in radio-television-film with a concentration in motion pictures from the University of North Texas in 1974. In his early career, Nicosia was represented by Delahunty Gallery in Dallas. He was awarded a Louis Comfort Tiffany Foundation grant in 1984 and a Guggenheim Fellowship in 2010, and he currently lives and works in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Interviewee: Laura Carpenter and Nic Nicosia
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: February 15, 2013
Location: Santa Fe, New Mexico

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

J. R. Compton is an artist and writer who established Dallas Arts Revue in December 1979 as the first arts publication to focus on North Texas regional art. Issues 3 through 11 were funded by the Artists Coalition of Texas, and then the publication became Texas Arts Revue and widened its coverage to the Texas art scene. With issue 12, it was renamed the Dallas Arts Revue and is funded by Compton. It has been available online since 2000 at Dallas Art Revue.

Interviewee: J. R. Compton
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: June 6, 2012
Location: Dallas Museum of Art

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Celia Eberle is an artist active in the Dallas art community since the early 1980s when she started exhibiting as a member of the 500X Gallery. Eberle is still active in Dallas, represented by Cris Worley Fine Arts Gallery.

Interviewee: Celia Eberle
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: May 15, 2012
Location: Dallas Museum of Art

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Brian Gibb is an artist, independent curator, gallery owner and cocreator of the publication Art Prostitute. Gibb is the current owner of the Public Trust Gallery and was a founding member of the Contemporary Art Dealers of Dallas (CADD).

Interviewee: Brian Gibb
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: August 22, 2012
Location: Dallas Museum of Art

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Susan kae Grant is a photographer and professor of visual art/photography at Texas Woman’s University in Denton. Grant arrived in Texas in 1981 at the invitation of TWU, where she established the area’s first book arts specialty. Grant lives and works in Dallas and is represented by Conduit Gallery.

Interviewee: Susan kae Grant
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: May 24, 2013
Location: Dallas Museum of Art

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Paul Rogers Harris is an independent curator, arts educator, and former director of the Children’s House, an education program at the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts (1956–1963).

Interviewee: Paul Rogers Harris
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: September 14, 2012
Location: Dallas Museum of Art

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Fig. fig#
Lagoon entrance, Dallas Museum of Fine Arts, Fair Park, 1981

John Held Jr. is a mail and performance artist and the former owner of Modern Realism Gallery and Archive (1982–1994) and the founder of the Video Art Study Group, active in the 1980s. Modern Realism Gallery exhibitions included shows of work by artists Ray Johnson, Davi Det Hompson, Anna Banana, Ken Brown, and Achille Cavellini, with special thematic shows on the Fluxus art movement, Artist Postage Stamps, Mail Art, the Church of the Sub-Genius, and the Yugoslavian Anti-Embargo Art Collective Cage Group.

Interviewee: John Held Jr.
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: May 4, 2012
Location: Dallas Museum of Art, by telephone

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Janet Kutner is an arts writer in Dallas. She was the art critic for the Dallas Morning News for more than 40 years and got her start in the Dallas art scene working as the director of public relations at the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts (1956–1963).

Interviewee: Janet Kutner
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: May 15, 2013
Location: Kutner Residence, Dallas, Texas

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

June Mattingly is an independent curator, gallery owner, and freelance writer on the arts. From 1979 to 1988, Mattingly ran the Mattingly Baker Gallery, which promoted Texas artists like Jesus Moroles, Mary McCleary, and Melissa Miller. Baker was a founder of the Dallas Art Dealers Association (DADA) and is author of the self-published e-book, The State of the Art: Contemporary Artists in Texas (2012).

Interviewee: June Mattingly
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: July 23, 2012
Location: Dallas Museum of Art

David McCullough with Ruth Wiseman

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

David McCullough was born in Massachusetts and attended the Kansas City Art Institute and California Institute of the Arts before arriving in Texas in the early 1970s. He showed his work in regional competitive exhibitions, taking home several honors and prizes in the early 1970s. McCullough was never formally attached to a specific gallery but chose to make opportunities happen by establishing his own live-work studios in the neighborhoods of Oak Cliff and South Dallas. He has worked in a variety of media, including painting, sculpture, and performance art. McCullough lives and works in Dallas and is currently represented by Kirk Hopper Fine Art.

Ruth Wiseman is the former owner of Ruth Wiseman Gallery (1976–1992) and currently a docent at the Dallas Museum of Art.

Interviewee: David McCullough with Ruth Wiseman
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: December 16, 2011
Location: McCullough Residence, Dallas, Texas

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Vicki Meek is an artist, independent curator, cultural critic, educator, and manager of the South Dallas Cultural Center.

Interviewee: Vicki Meek
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: March 21, 2012
Location: South Dallas Cultural Center, 3400 South Fitzhugh, Dallas TX 75210

Leigh Arnold: It’s Wednesday, March 21, 2012. We are here at the South Dallas Cultural Center in Dallas, Texas, and the following interview is part of the Dallas Museum of Art’s History of Contemporary Art in Dallas research project funded in part by the Texas Fund for Curatorial Research. I’m Leigh Arnold, project researcher at the DMA, and I will be speaking here with Ms. Vicki Meek, artist, independent curator, cultural critic, educator, and manager of the South Dallas Cultural Center. I just read that it’s your 15th-year anniversary of working here.

Vicki Meek: Actually, I'm in my 16th year.

LA: Congratulations.

VM: You’re short by a year.

LA: I will make a note of that. Well, thank you, Vicki for agreeing to be interviewed and joining me to have this as part of our History of Contemporary Art in Dallas project. It’s very important to have you here, so thank you.

VM: You're welcome.

LA: Great. So let’s start at the beginning. You haven’t always been a Texan.

VM: No, I have not. And in fact, Texans will tell you I'm still not a Texan.

LA: Really?

VM: Well, you have to be born a Texan, so there you go. But I've been here for 30 years, actually going on 31, and I came here from Connecticut where I used to work for the Connecticut Commission on the Arts, but I'm a native of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

[00:02:04]

LA: Great. How did you first become interested in art?

VM: Wow! Well, my family always had us involved in arts activities as little people. All of us would go to the museum that is sort of like a Sunday event. The family would trek down to the Philadelphia Art Museum. And so, I was very young when I decided I wanted to be an artist. I started taking formal art lessons when I was seven, and that was at Fleisher Memorial Art School [Fleisher Art Memorial] in Philadelphia. Many of the artists who came through Philly went to that art school. It was run by the Philadelphia Museum of Art and it was free to any public school kid that wanted to do it, and I was very enthused. All of us went there but I actually decided I was going to be an artist when I was eight.

LA: Wow!

VM: Yeah, a sculptor at that, not just an artist but a sculptor because I always took sculpture. I was always interested in three-dimensional arts. So my involvement with visual arts has been longstanding, and then my parents were collectors, so I saw art in the house. And then my brother—I had an older brother who started out as an artist but ended up being a jazz musician because he did music and art both. I did dance and visual art. He did music and visual art. So I was always really thrilled by what he was doing because his work was really good. He could have been either one, so that’s how I got started.

LA: Do you remember a particular work of art in Philadelphia’s collection that kind of turned you on?

VM: Well, two things, there were two pieces in the collection, and I should say that wasn’t the only museum that I would go to. I would also go to the Rodin Museum regularly and they were—obviously, all of their dance work was very exciting to me as a little sculptor. But in the Philadelphia Museum, the Duchamp glass piece was—

[00:04:00]

LA: Right, it’s the full title that’s long.

VM: It’s a long title. No, no, it’s—oh God, what was the title of it?

LA: It was something—it’s like [inaudible] [name of object is The Bride Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, Even (The Large Glass), 1915–1923, Marcel Duchamp]

VM: Right. That one, I was just intrigued by it because I hadn’t seen anything like that as a sculpture, so that was very influential, but mainly the Rodin Museum. I kind of lived in that museum.

LA: That’s great. Good. So you go on to study art.

VM: I do. I was never allowed to be an art major. My parents would not let me be an art major at school because they felt like that was a real weak program, which it was. And so, I got my art classes on Saturdays. But I was an academic, straight academic student up until I graduated, and I went to RISD. That was my first school, Rhode Island School of Design, but I was going to be a fashion designer. That lasted about two minutes.

LA: Was that a way of combining your parents’ kind of—

VM: No, it was—because I thought I was going to be a fashion designer. I studied French in school and I always designed my sister’s doll clothes. I wasn’t very much into dolls but she was, and so I had—her Barbie had like furs and all kinds of beautiful clothing that I designed. So I thought I was going to be a fashion designer, and RISD had the best fashion program at that time (this was like 1967) in the country, and so I went there and quickly figured out that I was not fashion world material.

LA: What? What about that? Well, how did you make that decision?

VM: I can’t be phony. I just don’t know how. Everybody is kissing each other—this was in college just before they're even out in the world. This doesn’t bode well.

LA: Yeah.

[00:05:57]

VM: And quite frankly at that time, there were no blacks in that world of any stature and there weren’t very many women. I mean most of it was dominated by gay white males. I'm realist, and so I looked around and went, “This probably isn't going to work out.” So I switched to sculpture, and they did not have a very strong sculpture program at RISD at that time. So I guess my sophomore—in the beginning of my sophomore year, I transferred to Tyler School of Fine Arts [Tyler School of Art, Temple University] that did have a very strong sculpture program. So I went there and then I went overseas to the school in Rome. Actually, I should say that it was highly motivating but it really was a whole lot of fun.

LA: Good.

VM: I didn’t do a whole lot of work. I didn’t know when I was going to get back to Europe, so I figured I have to see everything I could see. But it was fabulous in terms of being exposed to such wonderful history. That was living history because to them, it’s not history. They lived off the trading down the street and that type of thing. So that was a great experience from the standpoint of getting to see a lot of art that I had seen in books.

LA: Right. Great, and then you go on to do some graduate work.

VM: I went to graduate school at University of Wisconsin—Madison.

LA: For your MFA?

VM: MFA, yeah.

LA: Right. So at this point, you are allowed to be an art major?

VM: Oh, no, no. Once I went to college, they made—they just wanted to make sure that if I changed my mind that I wouldn’t be stuck. If I decided I didn’t want to be an artist, I'd have an academic background and could go into anything that I wanted. That’s all they were concerned about because they knew that the training that I’d get at Fleisher would be far stronger than anything that I would ever get in public school anywhere.

LA: As far as arts?

VM: Yeah, so I wouldn’t be at a deficit for the art, but I would have been in a deficit if was an art major in high school.

LA: I got you, okay. And after your MFA, you go on to Kentucky?

[00:08:02]

VM: Well, yes. It turns out that I graduated early because I went to college at 16.

LA: Oh, my God.

VM: I graduated at 20.

LA: Doogie Howser.

VM: Not quite. So when I graduated—I got a BFA. When I graduated with a BFA, I was only 20 years old and so, no one was hiring me. So I said, “Well, I’ll just go on and get an MFA.” And then when I came back with my MFA, I was 23. I got my first teaching job and I was like as old as the students. Anyway, that was at Kentucky State University, and I chose Kentucky State, because I really wanted to teach at an HBCU.

LA: Can you describe that?

VM: Historically black colleges and universities, that’s what HBCU stands for, because I felt like I came from a highly political family and we’re always doing activist stuff and I didn’t know how I was going to be able to meld that with my art at the time. And so I thought, well maybe I can contribute by teaching at a black college and raising up that next generation of artists and that could be my contribution.

Well, here’s how it went down. As my dad said, in HBCU, we’ll make you do one of two things. You would either grow up quickly or you will lose your mind, and I did a little of both. But it was a great experience from the standpoint of teaching because I love the students. I'm not good with administrations. I don’t follow rules real well. I don’t have respect for authority. There are all these things that just I don’t have.

LA: Plus you were very young.

VM: I was young, yes. I was young and I was hotheaded and did a lot of things that you shouldn’t do in the university if you want tenure.

LA: Right.

VM: But I figured early on that no one is giving me a tenure anyway, so I could say what I wanted to say, do what I wanted to do and move on.

[00:10:02]

LA: Do you have any students from that time that you still keep in touch with?

VM: Yes. As a matter of fact, I do.

LA: That’s great.

VM: One in Indianapolis, that’s how I happen to know about (00:10:11 Max?), I sure do, because of his work there.

LA: Great.

VM: But it was a great experience from the standpoint of I was able to come into a brand new department, so I literally developed the sculpture program for them. They had never had African-American art history, so I really developed that program for them. So, there were a lot of great things that I was able to initiate and like I said, I loved the students, so that part was wonderful. Kentucky, a little challenging.

LA: I’m sure.

VM: Yeah, especially Frankfort, Kentucky, which is where the school was, the capital.

LA: And this has been in the early 1970s?

VM: Yes.

LA: Just right after the very, very hard period?

VM: Yeah, it was—

LA: A hard period?

VM: Well, I don't know if Kentucky ever really had a seriously hard period. I think it’s kind of—they were not clear what they were. South, they didn’t know what they were.

LA: Right.

VM: But it was a small town, and it definitely was a challenge going from what I'm used to in terms of art resources. I mean I would take my students to Louisville, but at that time, Louisville really didn’t even have a whole lot. So we would take field trips to Cincinnati, which had good museums, and then on occasion to Chicago, which was a much longer trip, but we did.

LA: It’s worth it.

VM: Yeah, oh yeah, because they had to see art. My thing is that you can't learn about art from books. You have to see some art. So I would try to get them out as much as possible.

LA: Good. And from Kentucky, you go to Connecticut, back north?

VM: Yeah. What happened was I ran the gallery program at Kentucky State and as a result of that, I had to start looking for resources because the college really didn’t have any, and I got acquainted with the Kentucky Arts Commission and figured out, “Oh wow, these people do this.”

And then I had some friends who were working for the Connecticut Commission on the Arts and told me they had some jobs that were opening up, so I applied for them when I decided I needed to get back east because my baby sister was going to college and having some issues. So the family decided I was the one who was going to be able to get her through school. Well, she married the guy and dropped out. Okay.

LA: Yeah.

VM: But it turned out that that job that I got, which was the artists-in-schools coordinator, allowed me to really get to know the state well. So then when it came time to change jobs within the agency, I kind of knew what I wanted to do, and I became a senior program administrator for the whole agency in Fairfield County because I wanted to be near New York. So I convinced the agency they needed to be decentralized.

LA: You must be very convincing.

VM: I was like, “You can’t possibly do this work in one place.” And so, we did. We decentralized the office and we had me in Fairfield County.

LA: Okay, right.

VM: And then somebody in western Connecticut and somebody in northern Connecticut, and that's how we ran it from there. And that's when I really kind of figured out the rest of my arts administrative life because I was able to do everything. I represented the agency, so I really had to get involved with corporations. I helped develop arts councils in that area. We did—I oversaw the artists-in-schools program that was working in that area, and so it was great.

LA: Yeah, so it’s the starting point really for your—

VM: For my serious arts administration background, and it’s how I figured out I could make a living in the arts and not have to really compromise my work.

[00:14:05]

LA: Okay. What brought you to Texas?

VM: Well, the thing that brings all women to places where they’d never be, a man. I had never even thought about Texas, but my now ex-husband was here and the choice was him moving up to New York—he was in public relations at the time—or me moving to Texas. And he had come here really on his way to California but liked Dallas and stopped and got a job. I think he was at the time the PR person for the American Heart Association for the national office. And so, when we were talking about where we would be, my father was listening to him and he was all excited about Dallas and the opportunities for a young, black man who was in business, and blah, blah, blah.

My father said, “You sound like you really like Dallas.” So he said, “Yeah, I do.” He said, “So, have you said anything to her about this?” He said, “Well, she wants me to move to New York, so I’m going to do what she wants me to do.” He said, “Really? I don't think you need to do that. I think you need to tell her where you want to be.” “She doesn’t really care where she is.” So, he has told me that. I was just like, “Okay, okay. I’ll test it out.” So, I came to Dallas in 1980.

LA: Did you have any—you mentioned that you’ve never even thought of Dallas. So you never had any kind of preconceived notions?

VM: Well, they shot Kennedy. That’s what my preconceived notion was. But of course I came from a political family, so I knew that had nothing to do with Dallas.

LA: Right, right.

VM: But no, I was actually intrigued by it. It was the notion of going to a place where there were—I was told a lot of things happened. Of course, I got here and was a whole different story. But I was willing—I mean it was an adventure. I like going to new places, so it really didn't bother me at all that I was going to some place that I have never been.

LA: Good, and how did you get involved in the arts here?

VM: Well, truthfully when I first came, I was really depressed because there was not a lot going on. It was really, to me, a dead kind of scene. And so, I was really depressed so I slept for about a year, and every now and then I’d get up. I needed to go to the store. I didn’t get involved with anybody. But then I realized that this was a place where I could probably make some things happen if I was just willing to get in there and do some work. So I started looking around to see what I could do, and what came up was Jean-Paul Baptiste, who I actually had known before, he was working for the City Arts Program and they actually wanted me to come and work for the program and I was like, “No, I’m going to do art. I came to Dallas to do some art.”

So they had a CETA program going on, and that CETA program had been going all over the country, and so I knew a lot about it. We had one in Connecticut. So, I became a CETA artist and I did residencies. I decided I wanted to do a residency in West Dallas. And so, I did residency at the West Dallas Girls’ Club. And then we decided that one of the things that this CETA program was going to do is not just have artists working in the community doing the usual kind of residency things, but that the artist could get to select something that they wanted to learn and use that as a part of their residency. So I decided I’m going to learn how to do graphic design because my ex-husband was starting his own PR company and I figured I’d do the graphics part of that company.

Well, it should have been perfect but it didn’t quite work out that way. So then I started working with a public relations marketing company here as an intern, kind of, but they gave me a studio in their offices so that I could do work for them. And that’s what got me really—this was back in the days of cut and paste because nowadays, it would be like—I don’t know what people are doing now. But this was the cut and paste days and I was real good at that. So I did that and I was doing graphics for my ex-husband for a minute and that’s how long it lasted before we clashed heads because my style of working is very different than his. And I’m kind of manic about perfection in things, and he’s not quite. He was not quite that interested in that. So I started my own graphics company and actually had quite a few clients, which allowed me to have the flexibility I wanted in terms of my time. And that lasted until I got pregnant with my first child.

LA: What year was that?

VM: Eighty-two.

LA: Oh, great.

VM: Yeah. So from there on, it was mommyhood.

LA: So you were a CETA artist, which is Comprehensive Employment and Training Act, federally funded.

VM: Right.

LA: And that was kind of your outlet or how you continued your own artistic practice while in Dallas?

VM: Yes, because that was a job that allowed you to have—I mean part of it was built in. You would have time to do your work. So, I started doing some exhibitions because I haven't—I came with a good exhibition record, but I didn’t have any outlets here. So I did an exhibition at the Bath House [Cultural Center], City Hall. They didn’t really have any galleries that were interested in my work at the time. But I did start showing here because these people didn’t know anything about what I did, so it was great for that.

LA: Good! And did it kind of promote any sense of community amongst the artists?

VM: Oh, yeah.

LA: For the senior artists?

VM: We were definitely a community of artists. I met some people that I’m still very good friends with today, (00:20:23Greg Metz and Lanie Garber?). There were a number of people who I met during that time period. I don't think we would have met if it hadn’t been for us being involved in CETA.

LA: So, you come to Dallas and it’s depressing. Did this program turn around anything or start anything in improving your—

VM: No, I don't think so. I think what turned it around for me was Dallas began to turn around. I got back into arts administration in 1983 because Jerry Allen moved here as the director of the then City Arts Program. I knew about his work in Seattle. I was very respectful of that work. He was like the guru of public art nationally. And so, he knew about my work in Connecticut. And so, when he found out I was here, he asked somebody to put some feelers out to see if she’s interested because I didn’t—it was definitive. I’m not doing any more arts administration, I’m done. Yeah, famous last words, but in any event. So when he asked me if I would interview for a position, I said, “Okay, sure.” The only reason I said “sure” was because of him and the fact that we wanted to buy a house and neither one of us had a real job and the bank said, “Somebody has got to have a job that you could try.”

LA: Right, yeah.

VM: So I said, “Okay. I’ll take the job.” And it was exciting because we were literally going to build this agency from the ground up. And he was going to allow me to really put together the Community Arts Development Program for the city, and that was exciting for me to get involved in, at least for a couple of years.

LA: Right. You already kind of talked about the art scene at that time in Dallas, so we’ll go on. Did you notice or was there any support for minority artists in Dallas at that time?

VM: None.

LA: And has that ever been developed, and do you recall if there was a turning point to notice that support?

VM: Well, I wouldn’t say that there really is a structured support system. I think that it wasn’t until the late ‘90s when you even began to see any of the artists of color having any kind of traction as far as their ability to get into galleries and to show and what have you in something other than an ethnic-specific environment. And still, now if you look around, it’s still a pretty segregated city as far as that goes. I’ve been an anomaly in many ways because when I came here, I already had an exhibition history. And so, my life didn’t have to be Dallas, Texas. In fact even now, it’s not. My art life in Texas is in Houston.

So, it’s still a city that’s very stratified in my opinion. But we have seen some major changes in terms of exhibitions in museums, galleries that have taken on some of the African-American and Latino artists. We’ve seen many public art projects that have involved artists of color, and that’s primarily because the art program was set up that way with the City Arts Program. So that change has occurred, and I think that there's a lot more participation in terms of dialogue with artists of color that certainly wasn’t happening back when I came here. So yeah, there have been changes, good changes.

LA: Yeah. Do you have any exhibitions you remember in your mind as being—one where—

VM: Yeah, Two Centuries of Black American Art when that came to the museum [Dallas Museum of Fine Arts, March 30–May 15, 1977]. First of all, I think it opened up a lot of people’s eyes, black, white, and others, of what’s out there because prior to that, I don't think that there was a lot of knowledge about what African-American artists were doing and the diversity of work that was being done by African-American artists. A lot of the work that I saw here when I got here was pretty much genre painting. And so, the kind of work that I was doing, which was very politically driven in terms of the subject matter, was not terribly well received until Two Centuries of African-American Art [Two Centuries of Black American Art] came, and then it was like, “Oh, these famous people are doing this.”

LA: Yeah.

VM: But I think also that is an exhibition that opened up the museum to a whole new audience of people. And so quite naturally when that happens, you begin to have a whole different dialogue happening within the institution. I think the other exhibition that was very important was the Jacob Lawrence exhibition, because Jake came and was able to have conversations with artists [Dallas Museum of Art, Jacob Lawrence, American Painter, June 28–September 6, 1987]. A lot of these artists didn’t know who Jake Lawrence was. So that opened up a lot of avenues of conversation that hadn’t happen before as well.

LA: Now, backing up a little bit in 1986, two key things happened in your career. You're named director of the D-Art Visual Arts Center and also the South Dallas Cultural Center, which of course becomes something later on. But can you tell us a little bit about the D-Art Visual Arts Center? What was its mission, and how did you situate yourself within that mission? How did you change it?

VM: The mission of D-Art when it started, it was designed to be a center that would serve local artists, and that was very broad in terms of the definition of what a local artist was. But it really was created to address the needs of the local artists because of course like every city, these local artists would complain that they didn’t have any kind of respect from the DMA, and most of the galleries weren’t representing them. And so, it was a repository for those artists to do workshops, exhibitions, seminars, anything related to the business of being a visual artist. Now, I didn’t open it, so it was already open when I came on board. When I came on board, I was recruited by Patricia Meadows to come and really serve as the person that’s going to take it into its next life, which was they really were interested in getting more visibility nationally for the center, as well as not being seen as just sort of a Sunday painter kind of place. So I saw it as a challenge to bring some new energy into the institution, as well as to bring some diversity because they didn’t have—I don't think they had any at that time. So that’s what I saw myself as being hired to do, is to really sort of open it up, bring some diversity to it, as well as raise the level of awareness about this institution nationally.

LA: And they were calling you at the moment for more exhibitions or (inaudible00:28:19) on?

VM: We did a lot. There was a lot that happened there. One of the major things that happened there that did not continue, unfortunately, but I was very interested in performance art. So I initiated a performance art series and people like (00:28:39Lanie Arbor?) who was premiere. She never really got it just doing this town but she’s a fantastic performance artist. She did work there. We had a collaboration going with UT Arlington because at that time, Circa—which is no longer Circa, it’s now UT Arlington Gallery—but Jeff Kelley was running it, and so we would do collaborative projects where he might bring in somebody like Rachel Rosenthal, a big-name artist. And then we would do joint things with the art. We had one of the best parties Philip Glass has ever witnessed, so that is one of the things we did.

LA: Philip Glass?

VM: Yeah. We did the after party for his performance at Dallas. That’s quite a party, if I have to say so myself. But performance art was one of the things that we did that was not done before. And then I initiated a series called Mosaics, which was to really show how diverse these artists are in our community who are really professional artists, and you don't have to compromise quality or anything like that, but who were doing things that had something to do with their ethnic background, and it wasn’t just African-American artists.

[00:30:00]

VM: We did Robert Barsamian, Hung Liu—I'm trying to think about—there was a woman whose name is escaping me right now, but she was from Lubbock. But it really was a wonderful series, and we did catalogues for that series, so it’s a way of documenting the work as well as having some writing done because I was big on people writing. And then we also did—I'm trying to think of something. Well, a lot of it was the collaborations that I did with UTA that gave us a lot of visibility beyond the local scene.

LA: And were you around when UTA brought in Al Caprow?

VM: Yes. The person who brought that in was Jeff. It was Jeff Taylor.

LA: So did you get the opportunity to talk to him about his performance art?

VM: Oh yeah, absolutely. Like I said, that whole program was wed to ours, so we would have this Dallas-Arlington connection with the performance arena.

LA: Great. So we’ve kind of touched on this but I'm going to ask more directly. How do you reconcile two sides of your career as an artist and an arts administrator?

VM: Well, I guess it kind of depends on what you call reconciling, because I don’t know that it ever really is reconciled. I always look at my arts administrative career as it takes a lot of time. But one of the reasons that I have chosen to stay in it is because I found that for me, and this is not necessarily true for everybody, but for me teaching milks the exact same energy that it takes to producemy art. But running it (00:31:57inaudible). So I could still be a practicing artist running a cultural center but I can’t do it when I'm teaching. So it’s been the best of all worlds for me. It’s the lesser of the evils if you have to work. At least I'm working in my field and I'm creating opportunities for other artists, because I don’t normally show my own work in here at all. But it’s an opportunity for me to bring art in here that I'm interested in seeing.

LA: Right, of course. And how do you see yourself fitting into the kind of contemporary art scene or just contemporary arts landscape of Dallas?

VM: I guess truthfully I'm not really a part of that world. I’ve never been represented by the gallery because I did installation for the most part. I have done installations at the DMA and I’ve done the (00:32:57inaudible) in terms of this community, and of course, at the University of Texas in Arlington. But the University of Houston and the whole Houston scene is really where I’ve done most of my work, and they only know me as an artist. They have no idea I'm an arts administrator, but it’s fine.

I don’t have that need to be living in the space where I’m also doing my art work like some people would. “Oh, my town doesn’t support me.” I don’t care. I’ve got great support to do everything else that I want to do, and it was a great place to raise my kids. So those were the kinds of things that were important to me. And maybe I won’t be feeling this way if it weren’t for the fact that I—like I came here already as an established artist. I didn’t have to try to establish my credibility as an artist here. So for me, the art scene so to speak at Dallas is not something that I am an active part of it as an artist. I'm an active part of it as an arts administrator.

LA: And how do you see yourself fitting in as an administrator?

[00:34:11]

VM: Well, I think I'm well respected in this town, and I usually am included in whatever serious dialogues that take place around the visual arts. And so, you can’t ask for much more than that. And if there are things that happen, like for instance, I was critical in setting up the D-Art art program and in structuring the public art program for the city. So those kinds of involvements are very satisfying to me.

LA: Good. And we’ve talked about this, around it really, but can you kind of describe how you came to have dual presences in Dallas and Houston?

VM: Well, that’s an interesting story. I don’t even know how Michelle got my name, but Michelle Barnes, who had a gallery for many years in Houston and is a very big mover and shaker in the community down there, somehow she got my name from somebody when she was looking to show work from somebody up here. She just wanted an artist from Dallas, so somebody gave her my name. I don’t even know who that was. And so, she got in touch with me and I sent her some images and she said she really liked the work and wanted to know if I wanted to have a show. So I was like, “Okay, I could do that, but why?” because nobody there knows me. I'm thinking like Dallas. If nobody knows you in Dallas, no one is coming to your show. That’s just the way it is. So she said, “Oh, it doesn’t matter. I like the work. People will come see it when they come out to the gallery.” I said, “All right then.” So I sent her the work and then she had this opening, and I was figuring it was going to be me and her at the opening and that was it, and the place was packed. I was just enthralled by it.

It was such a different experience. So I found out that in fact, Houston was a place where people literally supported visual arts whatever ethnicity they were. They went to all the different venues. And when they had gallery night, it was like everybody roamed around to all the different places and it was great. Well, from that exhibit, my name got to Rick Lowe and at that point, Rick was—this was before Project Row Houses. He was curating a show—it was him and Jo Havel who were curating the show.

LA: I know. I got a catalogue.

VM: Did you?

LA: Yeah.

VM: Oh, look at that!

LA: Yeah. I'm using some notes because it reminded me a lot of work by other artists. So it was this show.

VM: Yes. It was Fresh Visions.

LA: Fresh Visions at the Glassell School in Houston [Fresh Visions, New Voices: Emerging African American Artists in Texas, Glassell School of Art, Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, September 13–November 29, 1992].

VM: Right. So this show literally was what broke me into the bigger art scene in Houston because when Alison Greene, who is the curator for MFAH, the contemporary art curator, when she saw my installation, she bought it.

LA: Right, it’s now in the permanent collection. You just had that installation?

VM: Yeah. That was my first installation where I was doing work around the Middle Passage, and the piece was—I called it like a Memorial Room. It was a very contemplative piece. It was a combination of the research that I have done on the Middle Passage and melding that with my own personal interest in the Yoruba religion and the spirituality around Yoruba and Ife. So the room itself employed some visual elements, but it also had sound and it also had smell because all of that is important when you’re involved in rituals around Yoruba. She was just intrigued by that. And the next thing I know, it was like—I had never even thought about installations being permanent, so it was like, how do I make stuff with candles burning? How do I make that permanent? So she said, “Don’t worry about that. That’s what museums are for. They will help you make that,” so they did. She had gotten together with her production staff. Is that what they call them? Yeah? Whatever they call them in museums.

LA: Preparators?

VM: Preparators, the people who make things happen. And they came up with an electric candle that really looks like when it’s on, that it’s a flickering flame. But because you can’t have an open flame at the time in the museum, they had to change that. I did a template for everything else so that they can take it out, put it in whenever they need to, and that was that.

So then from there, once I did that show, Rick decided he really wanted me to be in the first round of artists for Project Row Houses, which I—I just love that project. That was the best public art project I’ve ever been involved in as far as I'm concerned. It’s just superb. So it was me, Jessie Lott and Annette Lawrence, Floyd Newsome, (00:39:43 inaudible?) Malone, who else was in there? Colette something, I don’t know. She’s got two names, and I think there was one other person, but these houses were really—it was really fresh, so there were no expectations of what would happen and you could do whatever you wanted. And so, I used it as an opportunity to actually research that community, which is what I do anyway. My thing is about memory and all that. And I got to know a bunch of people there and still today I'm in contact with those people and did a piece that really was about the house and the genesis of that house. We had a great time doing it. So when Ricky wanted me to come back for the 15th anniversary, that was like returning to paradise.

LA: And you went back as a curator?

VM: I was supposed to go back only as a curator but I couldn’t help myself. I ended up doing a house. I did a house, my son did a house, and what was really funny about that is my son and my daughter have always been my helpers against their will, but it’s something they just have to do. So my son was like—he said, “Mom, this is like déjàvu because when I was lying, you made me come down here to help you put this installation.” Then he said, “That old guy that taught me dominoes is still here and he’s still beating me in dominoes.” So his whole house was on dominoes because dominoes are a real important factor on that block. But it was great to include him and Ann Marceni(ph), who is one of my best friends but had done houses after I had done them. I’ve been involved in it and then a couple of other people that I worked with here in Dallas, and then Jesse Lott was the only original artist, one of the original houses that was in it. So it was great, it was a fabulous experience again.

[00:42:08]

LA: So when did you become interested in the idea of public art? Was it your first job as an administrator in Connecticut?

VM: I actually am not interested in public art.

LA: But you have collaborated on projects.

VM: I know. I do it for the money. What can I tell you?

LA: Honest answer. That’s all I need to hear.

VM: I really don’t—because the thing is my work doesn’t really lend itself to public art. I don’t want to engage people in my thought processes, so I’ve done public art projects and it is primarily for the money because you can get a design fee of $15 grand and you’ve designed something. If it ever gets built—like I'm not one of those artists that go, “They didn’t do my project!” I got my check, I’m on my way. If you do it, you do it. If you don’t, you don’t. That’s just an honest answer. The public art project that I have enjoyed doing is one of my D-Art stations; the other two, not so much.

LA: Which one is the—

VM: The one I love is the Hatcher Street Station because that’s the one you’ve engaged the kids and I really felt like it was a community kind of a project. And I also felt like because it’s connected to our center in the same neighborhood that I had a vested interest in those kids being involved in that project because it’s their neighborhood.

LA: Can you describe how you involved the kids in the project?

VM: They all—I worked with about 110 kids.

LA: Wow!

VM: Well, it’s what we do. But I went to the schools because I had—I knew all the art teachers in all the schools around here. I went to the schools and I would work with them after school every day and have them interview elders in the community about how South Dallas used to be, and then I had them talk about how they thought South Dallas was. And then they had to create images about back in the day and what they thought of, and those images became the centerpiece for the porcelain-enamel quilt piece that we have out there. I created the quilt patterns but then their pictures became the rest of the quilt.

LA: That’s so neat.

VM: Yeah, so the elders were thrilled because no one had ever asked them anything about their lives. So these kids—and the kids were thrilled because they were like, “These old people know something.” So it’s great. That’s how that project developed. And then I did the research and all for all the rest of it. I have markers that are indicative of what South Dallas used to be like in terms of the business community because it used to be the heart of the [black] business community. And almost all of those businesses are gone. So they’re like these markers now that you cross over when you cross the tracks that are ads from old newspapers of those businesses. And then the lake that used to be there is of course totally gone. They paved that over and built the projects, so the bottom parts of the columns are representative of the lake that used to be there. And then I have the plats of the original [black] neighborhoods are sandblasted on the columns, so it’s kind of like the history of South Dallas in the station.

LA: Wonderful. So in ’97, you became the manager of the South Dallas Cultural Center?

VM: I did.

LA: And what was the relationship to the local community when you started, and how has that changed?

VM: Well, the immediate neighborhood didn’t even know what this building was. Literally, they thought this was the parole office, because the parole office was down the street didn’t look like a parole office, you know, cinderblock building, nothing to really distinguish it. And more importantly, the community didn’t have any real engagement in this building as far as program. And when I got lowered back into government, because this is a government job, as fun as it is, it’s a government job, it was because I had opened the center in my other creation at the City of Dallas and I knew what it could be. I had high hopes for it.

So Margie Reece was at the time the Office of Cultural Affairs director came to me and said, “I really need that center to be functional.” I grabbed the chance because it was like, “Wow!” This is an opportunity for me to really make the programming happen that I know could happen there. And to get these kids that live in this immediate neighborhood engaged in this place, as well as their families. So it was like the dream job because I knew that we also had the opportunity for me to curate, which I love doing. I also would have had the opportunity to support a number of artists in the community because at that time, there was a lot more money than there is now. I was able to have contracts with a number of artists to do various events. And I also wanted to be able to—because I taught at Booker T. [Booker T. Washington High School for the Performing and Visual Arts], I wanted to be able to provide some sort of resource so that so many of these artists who came out of Booker T. didn’t feel like they had to move out of Dallas in order to be able to do their craft. So it was all around a great opportunity for me. And I guess not too long after getting involved in the center, I also decided that like D-Art, this place needed to have a national profile, and I was the person that I thought could do that.

LA: Yeah. What kind of programs did you initiate that you might say you’re most proud of?

[00:48:03]

VM: Well, it’s no longer happening but we initiated the first Late Night Jam and that actually started at midnight and went until 3 a.m.

LA: Whoa!

VM: Yeah. That’s what I said.

LA: It is a jam.

VM: Well, if you’re dealing with musicians, they don’t get off their gigs until 1 o’clock, so you’ve got to have an opportunity for the “real” musicians, the ones who are really gigging to come in and be a part of it. And so, we’ve had major players come through. When Roy Hargrove would come to town and we were having a gig, he would always drop in. [inaudible] Fathead [David “Fathead” Newman] came through. We have a lot of good people come through as a result of the quality of what we were doing. That’s one program. The Gallery Program, the fact that I got a gallery built because what we started off with were these four little corner walls, like a dry wall here, a dry wall there. So I’m really proud of the Visual Arts Program.

I brought national artists to this town that they would never have seen otherwise, and of course supported a number of the up-and-coming young visual artists from this community. I also am very proud of our summer program because that, too, I was able to bring a lot of my friends from around the country. John Stock?, before he died, he did a metal case and a workshop for my kids. I mean, I couldn’t have paid for that. John did that as a favor to me.

LA: Yeah.

VM: Napoleon Henderson [Jones-Henderson?] came down and did the same thing with weaving.So those were the kinds of things that I don’t know that we could have done those if you hadn’t had somebody sitting in the seat actually at those kinds of national commissions. I mean, we’ve had Elizabeth Catlett here.

[00:50:08]

LA: Yeah. And what do you hope for, for the future at the South Dallas Cultural Center?

VM: Well, my last chore was to get us connected nationally and internationally to an entity that could keep us there, and that’s what my motivation for becoming a part of the National Performance Network was, which now has of course the Visual Artists Network also. That affiliation allows the center—and they’ll have it once I’m gone. The thing is it’s now a partner. And I don’t guess I’m talking out of school, but I think we just got the Dallas Contemporary in.

LA: Wow!

VM: I don’t know if I could tell you that. By the time this is—

LA: By the time this airs, it should be public knowledge.

VM: It would definitely be public because we’ve already voted them in.

LA: Yeah.

VM: And that would make us the only two in North Texas. So that’s the kind of stuff that will see the center through for years to come. I mean, as long as the network exists. And the network of course is supported by the people like the [Doris] Duke [Charitable] Foundation, the Rockefeller Foundation, the Ford Foundation, there are all these major entities that support it, so they’re aware now of the South Dallas Cultural Center. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that I’m the chair. That’s the other thing.

So that’s my goal, is to make sure that the center has the credibility and the visibility on more than just the local scene because I think that that’s what’s needed for artists of color, but they can’t ever make one place the place that’s going to be their panacea—they have to think globally, at least that’s the way I feel about it.

LA: Yeah, absolutely. What have you found to be the greatest challenge to having a career in Dallas, whether as an artist or as an art administrator?

[00:52:06]

VM: More as an artist really because I can’t complain about my life as an arts administrator in this town. Literally, I’ve done any and everything I’ve ever wanted to do in Dallas. As an artist of course, if I did want this to be the place where I could have an art career, it would be a true challenge because there are still, as I said earlier, there are still very limited opportunities for artists of color to show. And there also are—and I shouldn’t even say artists of color. There are very limited opportunities for local artists period. But for the artists of color, it’s even magnified because you don’t have any professional galleries that exist that would be interested. And you also have very few real collectors.

So the idea of you selling your work, anything over $500, is a challenge. So, that’s all that I would see as being the reason why Dallas is a challenge. And I think, like I said, it’s a challenge for all of the local artists, white, black, brown, Asian, whatever. They all are challenged in that way.

LA: And in your opinion, are there any major turning points in Dallas’s contemporary art history, or are there any moments in Dallas there is a shifting in support? And kind of what brought that change on?

VM: I think there definitely is—well, I don’t know. It’s kind of hard when you talk about turning points. I think what happened in Dallas is the same thing that happened in a lot of cities in the South where you had a lot of migration from major corporations who brought people who were used to certain things and therefore they had to see that replicated here. So that kind of—I mean for instance, when Frito-Lay and JCPenney, [inaudible] when some of those corporations moved here, they started collecting. And some of them actually collected local artists, or at least Texas artists. And that was a major turning point for many of the artists, is that they all of a sudden had corporate curators who were interested in their work. So quite naturally, you were going to have more exposure for those artists nationally because these were national headquarters. That was a big turning point. That was in the ‘80s, late ‘80s. And then the other thing was the DMA, its focus changed when Rick Brettell got there and like that Two Centuries show opened up a new audience.

Rick Brettell opened up a lot of audiences to the DMA with his approach to partnering with institutions that weren’t mainstream, bringing in people who were not the typical mainstream visual arts personnel. And so that changed things. Then you have things like South Side on Lamar. I mean, that was a whole new concept for Dallas. We had artist co-ops because (Voice Overlap) to say, and that was a groundbreaking institution in its time. You know 500X started out as that.

But never had developers who came in with that vision that—it wasn’t like SoHo where they were going to have the artists redo a plan. And then nobody could afford to be there. Jack Matthews and Kristian Teleki are about supporting artists in all types of arts, not just visual arts but all types of arts. So that facility became a sort of game-changer. And then everybody now is saying that they don’t want to program—you know. It’s the way it works. So those were some of the things that changed. And then I think you also had a change with Booker T. Washington. That was well before I got here, but that school was turning out some of the most talented and serious artists, even more so than many of the universities. That school made a big difference in what Dallas needed to have in order to keep those kids here.

LA: Where do you go to look at art?

VM: I’m not that much of an art looker.

LA: Really?

VM: My motivation is not from art. My motivation has never been from seeing other visual art, except this baby when I was a little kid.

LA: Right.

VM: But I'm much more interested in music and dance and theater. Now, theater I would say—that’s the only thing that I'm still a chauvinist about the East Coast. I still have to go back to New York to see consistently good African-American theater. But music-wise, Dallas is full of really great musicians on the jazz band, so from black or white jazz musicians. There are some very good dance companies here. And I’m also obviously very motivated by history and those kinds of things, but visual arts, not so much.

LA: Where can I go to see your work, aside from this gallery, which I want you to kind of just talk about in a moment. But if I wanted to see your work, where do I go?

VM: You would be hard-pressed to see it because my work was never permanent, unless I’m doing an installation. I don’t know that from—I mean the African American Museum has work of mine in their collection but it’s very atypical because mainly it’s been done for a particular show where as opposed to the kind of work that I normally would do. In Dallas, you would be hard-pressed to find the work except in the African American Museum in private collections.

LA: Do you have photographs of installations? Do you keep—

VM: Yes, I have—yes, absolutely.

LA: For documenting.

VM: Mm-hmm, and a lot of catalogues. I’ve been in shows that have had catalogues as part of the show.

LA: And you’re working on something at the museum currently, aren’t you?

VM: Yes, I am. It’s actually not me per se. The South Dallas Cultural Center as a team was invited to be a part of the—what do they call it? [Center for Creative Connections Community Partner Response Installation] Public—I forget what the—they’ve got a name for it. What? You don’t know?

LA: I know. I’m just a little researcher.

VM: Okay. But it’s the interaction between the public and space and what have you. So we were invited to create a work for that space and we are working on it right now. It’s got a visual art component, a literary component, a digital media component, and a dance component. So all of that is going to be somehow synthesized into a visual experience and an interactive experience because the dancer is creating a dance pattern that will be on the floor, but there will be a screen which she’ll also be instructing on how to do this dance.

And then the music part of it, Malik is creating these stations where the people will respond to these images to create music, and then there will be these words that will be also taken from the poem that’s being created by our literary person that people will use to create music from.

And the whole thing—the premise of it is called free association and the whole thing is premised on the idea of space as a limitation as a metaphor for the African-American experience, but how we transcended those limitations and using things like music and the arts, etc., to do that, to transcend that experience. So that’s kind of what we are hoping will come out of it. We’ve created this silo that has these openings that are not terribly comfortable to get in, but we have these cameras where we’re going to see how people negotiate limitations. And then like I said, there will be these creation stations where they can create music that goes with these images.

LA: When will I go to see this?

VM: I think it’s opening in May. I think it’s in May is when it’s going to open, and it will be up for six months. We’re going to program it, too. We’re going to have some schedule of programming that will let people sort of engage in what is happening here, but also to get them to understand more about what that installation is about.

LA: Good. Last question before you tell us about your work.

VM: Okay.

LA: What is your greatest memory or favorite story in relation with contemporary—living in Dallas as an artist or an art administrator? It’s very broad but there is one that sticks out in your mind, and keep in mind, the focus of this is the history of arts in Dallas from ’63 to the present.

VM: That’s an interesting question because I'm wondering. Well, I guess for me, it’s been watching the way in which the museum community, and not just the Dallas Museum of Art, but SMU and the Meadows Museum, how they have drawn their perspectives based on understanding that the demographics have changed in this city.

And so, I think they’re very excited actually about the way in which states have changed in the museum scene. You probably know that Roz Walker and I have been friends for a long time. But hiring her was a very smart decision on the part of the Dallas Museum of Art not because she is—I mean, she’s an incredible scholar and knows her stuff. But Roz is also somebody who clearly understands engaging the public. When she was the director of African Museum[the Museum of African Art] at the Smithsonian, she was always reaching out and getting people in.

So that part of her job—I know it’s not her job but it is her job in a sense that she sees this as a mission. That is going to really benefit the museum greatly. And I think now with the new director also having a history of doing that kind of reaching out, I think that the DMA is going to be really on the cutting edge of serving a community in a way that many major museums are not, so that is exciting to me.

LA: Good. Well, we can close with you kind of telling us where we are, what we’re sitting in front of. . . .

VM: We’re in the Arthello Beck Gallery, and my work is in this gallery only because we’re doing Black Women’s Month and there were some issues around the image of the [black] women in the media that we really wanted to explore. And I have done this work for the African American Museum actually. It’s on display there. And (01:05:17 inaudible?) who’s the head of (01:05:18 inaudible?) said, “No, I really want that work up when we have this conversation with the films and all that,” because it’s exactly what we want to talk about.

And then my friend was wanting to have some work up that also she was talking about the same thing. So we thought it was a nice point-counterpoint kind of exhibition. So my work has been for the last, I would say probably seven or eight years been kind of consumed with this notion of the “hoochie mama,” which I’ve been very concerned about these young girls and not-so-young girls around mid-20s or whatever who have basically assumed the persona of the streetwalker, their clothing, their demeanor, their language, all of that was this “hoochie mama.”

So I'm looking at both their involvement in that imagery but more importantly about elder women and what are we doing to counter that. So that’s what these pieces are about. But before this was sort of putting the blinders on them and it’s like, “Wait a minute,” as my son said, “Did somebody raise those women?” And it’s your (01:06:33 inaudible?).

Every time I thought of bringing someone here, I'm like, oh, come on. You raised [inaudible] generation. Anyway, so this is what it’s about. It’s about really kind of taking a look at the imagery, the persona, and then what are we doing as women who should know better to guide each other. So that is a metaphor of the African mask, these are female masks to symbolize the ancestors.

I’m still using my same iconography that I use in all of my installations, the blue as a protection color. The blue line, I have used as a symbol of protection from various things. So you’ll see a continuous blue line around the proverbs but then the lyrics from these rap songs are inside. It will give you a sense of the language that was being employed. The girls get more and more blinged out as far as what’s bordering them as they get more and more nude. And the idea of the Yoruba white rooster is a symbol of the ancestors going from foundational positions at her feet. This one is still kind of a clothed to the metaphor of it being the ancestor, the chicken head, which is a derogatory term as used now for these girls, to having the total annihilation of the protection here of the ancestors, (01:08:15 inaudible?) because they just can’t do much of anything with this.

[01:08:20]

LA: The right (01:08:20 inaudible?) decrease in the size representing a loss.

VM: Loss of bad memory, but it’s on their heads because it needs to be in their heads. But it’s getting smaller and smaller inside. So that’s what these pieces are about.

LA: Good. Thank you. I do think I should ask you about—I will kill myself if I don’t—could you just tell me about your role as an educator at Booker T.?

VM: Well, I’ve taught two things. I taught drawing. I never taught sculpture. I actually developed their art history, their AP art history, and I did design. But I wasn’t there very long because it was that transition period when D-Art sort of collapsed financially and then I was trying to figure out what was next. Jo Jones brought me on to do those things, which she knew that I would be able to do those, at least before I started really getting back into my work and didn’t have time. They were getting subs for the part-time teachers. It’s like, that’s not right. We should get a teacher.

LA: Yeah.

VM: But I love it. I'm still on the advisory board and I go back and forth to do critiques. I just did an installation workshop with students, and then I’ll go back to see what they’ve created as a result of the workshop. So I keep my tentacles at Booker T.

LA: Good.

[Crosstalk 01:10:00 - 01:14:11]

LA: That was really great. I really appreciate it!

Charles Dee Mitchell

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Charles Dee Mitchell is an independent curator and freelance writer on the arts for such publications as the Dallas Observer, the Dallas Morning News, Art in America, Artforum, and Art and Culture.

Interviewee: Charles Dee Mitchell
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: August 9, 2012
Location: Mitchell Residence, Dallas, Texas

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

George T. Green, Jack Mims, Jim Roche, Mac Whitney, and Robert (Daddy-O) Wade were active artists in the Dallas neighborhood of Oak Cliff in the late 1960s and early 1970s.

Interviewee: Oak Cliff Artists (George T. Green, Jack Mims, Jim Roche, Mac Whitney, and Robert (Daddy-O) Wade)
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: May 31, 2013
Location: Mims’ Residence, Dallas, Texas

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Toxic Shock is an artist collective formed by Frances Bagley, Julie Cohn, Debora Hunter, Linda Finnell, and Susan Magilow in 1980 to approach issues like politics, power, gender, and identity. Individually, these women practiced art in varying media—sculpture, photography, painting and drawing, and video. Together, they leveraged their talents to create works that crossed media boundaries.

Interviewee: Toxic Shock (Frances Bagley, Julie Cohn, Debora Hunter, and Susan Magilow)
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: May 22, 2012
Location: Dallas Museum of Art

Robert (Daddy-O) Wade

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Robert (Daddy-O) Wade is an artist who was active in the Dallas art scene as early as the 1960s as director of the Northwood Institute’s Experimental Contemporary Arts Program and a member of the Oak Cliff Four artist collective (1969–1974). Wade currently lives and works in Austin.

Interviewee: Robert (Daddy-O) Wade
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: December 14, 2012
Location: Wade Residence, Austin, Texas

Roger Winter (Part 1)

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Roger Winter is an artist active in the Dallas art community beginning in the late 1950s, when he worked as a preparator at the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts (1956–1963). Winter went on to teach at Southern Methodist University for 40 years.

Interviewee: Roger Winter
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: May 9, 2012
Location: By telephone from New York, New York

Roger Winter: I might mention that—do you know Quin Mathews?

Leigh Arnold: I do know Quin Mathews. I was introduced to him a few months ago actually.

RW: Some time in the near future, he’s to make a film and the content will be somewhat like what you're looking for of that film.

LA: Oh really?

RW: And it will be for a show that I’m having at the MAC [McKinney Avenue Contemporary] in September.

LA: Oh, well that is great to know. I will get in touch with him about that.

RW: Yeah, and I think he is supposed to ask questions about—it's all a little bit undecided, but I think he’s supposed to ask questions about, like, the Oak Lawn Group and the Contemporary Museum, and that time, but if you have any questions, I’d be happy to respond to them.

LA: Great. Well, I’ll go ahead. I am recording this for the Oral History Program here in the museum, and so I just want you to put a little introduction into the recording so we have it for posterity. It’s May 9, 2012, and I'm on the telephone with Mr. Roger Winter of New York, New York, and Santa Fe, New Mexico. The following interview is part of the Dallas Museum of Art’s History of Contemporary Art in Dallas research project funded by the Texas Fund for Curatorial Research. I am Leigh Arnold, project researcher at the Dallas Museum of Art, and I will be speaking with Mr. Roger Winter, artist and arts educator.

Mr. Winter’s history with the arts in Dallas dates back nearly five decades, and today we hope to hear some of those memories and stories he has to share with us on this subject. So, with all of that said, thank you Mr. Winter for agreeing to be interviewed as part of this project.

RW: That’s fine, but I would prefer you to call me Roger.

[00:02:02]

LA: I can do that.

RW: I answer to Mr. Winter, but I would rather be called by my first name.

LA: Absolutely. Okay, Roger. Well, we can start at the beginning. You were born a Texan, so can you tell me a little bit about growing up in Texas and where you're from?

RW: Yes. As a matter of fact, our older son, Jonah Winter, has written and someone else has illustrated a children’s book that Random House published, and the name of it is Born and Bred in the Great Depression, and not only is it beautifully illustrated, by I think her name is Deborah Root, but also on the endpapers it has photographs from my original family in the 1930s and early 1940s. And it's a very touching thing. I think it would easy to get a copy on Amazon if you wanted to, but I think copies exist in Dallas like at the MAC and at the MADI Museum, but I was born during the Great Depression in very impoverished circumstances on the wrong side of the MKT or commonly known as Katy Railroad tracks. Denison was very much of a railroad town, and none of us knew anything about art, but I loved to draw. From earliest memory I drew. And I had seven older brothers and sisters, and none of them went beyond high school, but I had decided I would and lost as I was at the University of Texas, I did.

I learned quite a bit in my first home away from home about a passion for painting and drawing, and so I ended up majoring in art and I had some wonderful teachers. And then I was in the army for two years at Fort Bliss, Texas, and then I got a graduate degree from the University of Iowa in 1960. And my wife Jeanette Winter, who has over 60 children’s books on the market, she and I married the same year and moved to New York for a year, and then I got a chance to teach some classes at what was then called the Fort Worth Arts Center, which was really—which is now the Fort Worth Modern.

LA: Right.

RW: And then moved to Dallas, taught at the Julius Schepps, is that the name?

LA: Uh-hmm. Yeah, I recall.

RW: It's the Jewish Community Center, and then taught some classes at the Dallas Museum, had some outstanding students at the Dallas Museum, including Robert Yarber, Stephen Mueller, and—oh gosh, just any number. I shouldn’t start listing names but those two came to mind. And then I worked part time at the Contemporary Museum with Douglas MacAgy as the director, and the rest of us who worked there, David McManaway, Herb Rogalla, Roy Fridge, those were the ones that I can remember. I believe that Janet Kutner and Herb Rogalla’s wife, Jett Rogalla, worked there also. But anyway it was all centered around MacAgy’s vision and MacAgy’s chutzpah, you might say, at getting shows that you knew wouldn’t please the Dallas audience there. And we all lived in the Oak Lawn area and we were kind of thought of as like the Oak Lawn area of painters, and it was a very, very exciting time, I think, in Dallas art history.

Anyway, Douglas was the nucleus, the star, the center, Douglas MacAgy, and I think he generated quite a bit of it. But then we were some interesting characters there, and this was the time when we lived in what I’d call an “exotic poverty.” None of us had any particular money, but we worked and we were very excited about our work, and there was a lot of interchange. I especially was influenced by, I guess, you could say David McManaway, but also Roy Fridge. Jim Love lived in Houston, but he flew up to, ironically, Love Field, to Dallas.

LA: Right.

RW: Anyway, just about every week.

LA: Wow.

RW: And so, he was certainly part of the group as well, but Douglas’s shows were magnificent. He did a show, as I'm sure you know, I think it was the first one in America on René Magritte.

He did a show called 1961 that brought Claes Oldenburg and his Store and a Happening called Injun that Roy Fridge filmed, and I saw that film once just being played constantly at an exhibition at the museum—no, at the Whitney I guess, called The ‘60s. And so, it wasn’t just a one-time thing in Dallas, it’s got a little bit of a history, the film does, and Oldenburg’s Happening.

LA: Right.

RW: And Douglas MacAgy did another exhibition called Art of the Circus, and he brought any kind of work that related to the circus to the Contemporary Museum. It was a setback for each of us when the museum closed because, not only did we not have the jobs any more installing the shows, but we also didn’t have the shows that were being done by Douglas MacAgy. And I think, what's the man’s name who did—I can't think of his name. He only did five or six paintings in the—.

LA: Gerald Murphy?

RW: Gerald Murphy gave MacAgy a number of his very, very few paintings that he did, and this was all really exciting. It was a very exciting time and it was kind of like the time of Fellini films and La Dolce Vita, and there was a lot of partying and a lot of music making.

LA: Yeah.

RW: And it was really—looking back at it, it was really a rather wonderful and exciting time in our lives and in Dallas, and I know how this could sound—, but I think the group around MacAgy, in addition to a sculptor named Charles Williams who lived in Arlington—

We were about the most advanced thing that was being done in Dallas and Texas at that time. I know that many, many things have happened since then, and we're talking 50 years ago at least. And I started teaching. There were other forces in Dallas, too. I mean, it's not to be forgotten—Otis Dozier and Velma Dozier were known by each of us and were not closed to what we were doing. And then, I started teaching at SMU and I had a number of wonderful students. I just talked to one of them, John Alexander, who just called, and David Bates, Brian Cobble, Lilian Garcia-Roig, Laurie Hickman—I hate to do this because I am going to leave out names and they're very important.

LA: Yeah.

RW: But, many, many people from the period when I was teaching in SMU have gone on, have survived, let’s say, and they are still working artists and doing quite well, many of them. And then, I really don’t know what's happened since that time, at SMU or too much about the Dallas history since that time, of course Claude Albritton opened the MAC and I think that’s—I don’t know the whole history of it, but I think they have done some exciting things and then is it called the Contemporary Museum? There was another—

[00:12:02]

LA: Well, there was a D-Art, which became the Dallas Contemporary.

RW: It did?

LA: Mm-hmm, D-Art. It went through a couple of different name changes, but it was D-Art and then Dallas Visual Arts Center and then the Dallas Contemporary, but they did open a new building here a few years ago.

RW: Yes, I remember. They had the Legends.

LA: Mm-hmm.

RW: And I think they opened that new building the year after I was their “Legend” artist. I don’t feel like a legend, but they did give me the award and Bill Jordan, I guess you know, William Jordan. He was the director of not only the Meadows Museum but of the SMU Art Department during the years that were the very most vital and exciting. James Surls taught there, Dan Wingren taught there. I think Larry Scholder is still teaching there, and Barnaby Fitzgerald. So, it's been a vital school. I don’t think it was thought of that way before I had any relationship with it, but it grew and they built a new building, and now I think they have a very expansive arts library at SMU.

LA: They do.

RW: Pardon?

LA: Yes, they do. I was agreeing, yeah.

RW: Yes. And then, well you have some other specific questions? I can talk forever.

LA: I do. Well, that was actually a really great kind of breeze through the period. So, we might just go back into the history and maybe ask some more specific questions. As an artist, when did you begin to show your work? I think you—

[00:13:59]

RW: I started showing my work the first year we moved to Dallas, which was 1961, I believe. And so, well we moved to Fort Worth in 1961 and to Dallas in 1962, and my first show was at Atelier Chapman Kelley. And that was 1963. And then I had a show at Haydon Calhoun, does that name ring a bell at all?

LA: It does, yeah.

RW: At Haydon Calhoun’s Gallery, and then I had—I won a couple of prizes at the competitive shows at that time, and I won the top prize in the Dallas County Annual and some kind of award at the Dallas—no, no, no. What was it called, the Texas Open or something?

LA: There were several juried shows in the early years—

RW: They had a—.

LA: There was the Southwestern Prints and Drawings exhibition—

RW: It was an annual—

LA: The Texas Annual Painting and Sculpture exhibition?

RW: Texas Annual, yeah that’s what it was, and it might have been called the Dallas County Annual, but that was just for our county.

LA: Right.

RW: And that’s—Jerry Bywaters was the director of the Dallas Museum and Jerry was very, very strong on artists from or working in Texas, and he was very supportive of Otis Dozier and some of the Austin artists, Everett Spruce, Loren Mozley, and William Lester. And he had a school there and as I have mentioned I taught there for a while and it was a good school but—

A director named Merrill Rueppel closed the school. He didn’t want to be involved. He didn’t want the museum to be involved in that, but it was a good resource for, especially on Saturday, for high school students. And that’s of course where I met Robert Yarber and Steve Mueller and some of the others. I still stay in contact with them, and that’s a long time ago! To still be talking to your ex-students, I suppose. But Jerry’s history there was about to end at that time, and he still kept contact with SMU. He directed the Pollock Gallery at SMU. And then other directors came in and times changed and the focus of the museum changed. And I think regional art became, whoever was doing it, became somewhat of a dirty word after new directors brought in whatever the new flavor of the month was.

LA: Yeah.

RW: And I don’t know where any of that stands right now. The last director that I knew was Harry Parker.

LA: Mm-hmm, okay.

RW: And I don’t even know who is the director now?

LA: Well, we just recently got a new director. His name is Maxwell Anderson and he had been the director of the Whitney for a few years and most recently was director at the Indianapolis Museum of Art.

[00:18:00]

RW: Well, that’s impressive. It sounds good. It seems I had heard some woman who was very involved in education.

LA: Right. Bonnie Pitman retired last year. There was a period of time between directors when we—while they were searching for someone to come in after her. And we just recently got Max Anderson, who started in January.

RW: Well, you're catching me up. I know that I was very close friends with the Hanleys, and of course Nancy Hanley just passed away, and I know there's a gallery in the museum, I believe, named for the Hanleys. Nancy was very modest about it, but she came from one heck of a historical background in the United States. Her great-aunts were the Cone Sisters of Baltimore, Claribel and Etta Cone. So, she had quite a family background in art before I ever met her, but Nancy was a wonderful person. And the show I'm having at the MAC, I'm going to dedicate it in the catalogue to Nancy.

She was a close—well, she was a student of mine first for several years during the—probably the entire ‘70s or the biggest part of it. And then she and Tim and I were friends and then they became patrons of myself and many other artists in Texas and they were quite a wonderful force. I mean I know there are a lot of good collectors in Dallas and I know they really love their collections. But I was closest to them; with Claude Albritton and of course Ted Pillsbury, when he left Fort Worth became a force in Texas art world.

LA: Well, I actually worked for Ted for four years before I started working here.

RW: Where were you at that time? Where was he or—?

LA: We worked together at the Heritage Auction Galleries.

RW: At the Heritage Auction, I see.

LA: Mm-hmm. I was his assistant for a little over four years. That was my first job out of my undergraduate degree.

RW: Well, I may have met you, I don’t know.

LA: Possibly. I started working there in 2006 and then I worked with him until he died, so until 2010.

RW: Well, Ted and someone who was working with him at Heritage came to my little studio in New York once.

LA: Oh, that would not have been me.

RW: Okay.

LA: Perhaps, because I didn’t—I was the assistant so I stayed in Dallas while he did the fun trips, but I think maybe Marianne Berardi could have been with him.

RW: That name sounds possible.

LA: She’s an art historian. She’s married to Henry Adams, who has written and published several books on American artists—I can't recall their names, that’s terrible, but he’s up at Case Western. They live in Cleveland but she works for Heritage, too, and she’s really bright. So, that could have been who he was with.

RW: Yeah. Well, Ted moved around a lot after the Kimbell, and I knew him, of course, in the gallery that became Pillsbury & Peters; I showed there with Pillsbury & Peters. And then he went to the Meadows Museum, and he had a show for me at the Meadows. And made a catalogue and he was always very, very kind to me as he was to many people in the arts or in art. He was very inclusive—someone’s trying to call one of us, but that’s okay.

LA: Oh, I think it might be you, but—.

RW: Okay. Ted was quite a patron of a number of artists, and last year Gerald Peters in New York had a show as a kind of tribute to Ted. And there were some artists that didn’t participate even though they really loved Ted but they did not care much for Gerald Peters.

LA: Right.

RW: And so like, well not to name anyone, but it was quite a nice tribute. I don’t know if you can have that catalogue, but—.

LA: Yes, I do. Yeah, I have a copy.

RW: Each of us made a little comment about Ted. He was the nearest thing, in my limited experience, to Douglas MacAgy because he was adventurous and he could visualize things that he wanted to do. And well, I don’t know that he ever got in a position to be as adventurous as Douglas was, but Douglas MacAgy was, in my mind, he was a giant and we gathered around him like whatever planets around the sun and loved him and he was very important to us. And of course his wife was also, but his ex-wife was a big force in Texas art, Jermayne MacAgy.

LA: Mm-hmm, down in Houston, correct?

RW: Yes. So the two of them really made a difference to the recent history of Texas. I think if I’ve made any contribution it was probably during the years when I was teaching, because some people came and they needed help and I was able, luckily, to give it to them. And I think SMU, of all places, became like a breeding ground for young artists.

LA: Absolutely. When did you begin teaching at SMU, do you remember?

RW: I taught there for 26 years. The first classes I taught were in 1963, and the last class that I taught was in 1989.

LA: Wow.

RW: And we moved away to Maine at that time, and I haven't really been following it too closely since then, except if I’ve had some contact with a friend, Barnaby Fitzgerald, and occasionally a phone call with Larry Scholder. And of course, I don’t know what’s going on with Bill Komodore now, but he came there just after I left. I don’t know if he’s still teaching or even if he’s still—.

LA: I'm not sure either, I'm—.

RW: I'm just—I don’t know.

LA: I haven’t heard. I don’t know if he is still around the Dallas area or where he would be.

RW: I don’t know, but he lived in Dallas early on. And he had been involved with the Contemporary Museum early. And David knew him and Roy Fridge knew him, but then I met him really in New York, and I mean, on a visit to New York. And then he moved back to Dallas, and I decided to leave SMU, and I think Bill filled in for me then. Well, as I said it's possible.

LA: I'm not sure.

RW: And then we moved from Maine to the Hill Country in central Texas and then started living half time there and half time in New York, and then we moved to New York permanently in 2000. Oh, no, I'm wrong about that. Yes, we lived there permanently in 2000 and decided to spend the summer somewhere else, and that’s why we're in Santa Fe and New York. And I can say this, I have kept painting consistently, daily, since I left Dallas. Do you know Quin Mathews?

LA: Mm-hmm.

RW: Oh, I mentioned that, I asked you that before. Quin asked me once in a radio interview how many days a week I work, and I said, “Seven.” And he said, “Why seven?” and I said, “Because, that’s all there are. Give me more days and I’ll work those days, too.” But Jeannette and I both, are—that’s our life, is our work.

LA: We have a few of your paintings in the permanent collection here that I've been able to see. They’re nicely, the large scale is nice and I'm wondering, do you continue to paint in such large scale?

RW: Well, I’ve painted in various scales. The largest painting I ever did was 10 by 20 feet that I did for the Federal Reserve Bank in Dallas.

[00:28:03]

LA: Uh-huh, yeah.

RW: I don’t know, I presume they still have it. I don’t know where the Federal Reserve Bank building is.

LA: I’ll need to track that down, but I do recall coming across the news article that announced that.

RW: And then I'm doing a show at the same time the MAC show is up in September. I'm going to have a show at Kirk Hopper Gallery.

LA: Oh, great.

RW: I think it is a very vital gallery. I feel like I'm lucky to be in it right now, and I’m doing a series of paintings that are each 5 by 5 feet that are based on the Hudson riverside. My studio overlooks the Hudson over into New Jersey.

LA: Wow.

RW: And I never painted it and never even thought of painting any subjects from there until recently, until late last year. And so I'm hoping to have, like, seven or eight 5-by-5 paintings for that show.

LA: Are you going to come into Dallas for the opening?

RW: Yes, I will.

LA: Well, wonderful. Then, I hope we get a chance to meet.

RW: Yes, I hope so too. Those paintings, while recognizable as subjects, I’d say they are more abstract than I've normally done and on canvas. I've done some things that are nonobjective work in acrylics that combine with kerosene but I felt a dense shadow of Rembrandt and various artists—

LA: Oh, yeah.

RW: — when I paint on canvas. But they're moving some, the paintings are. And that’s—I guess, been my whole story, is I never just painted one thing—one kind of thing because I don’t envision art that way. But I think of it as something that’s protean and that gives me a chance to grow and examine all different kinds of possibilities. And I have enough of a, whatever you want to call it, gift of some kind that I can do that and I can try different things. And I know that that is not what galleries would prefer.

LA: They want to market you, don’t they? They want—.

RW: Yes. This is a business. And I've never felt that art was a business, and it's just sort of serendipity I guess, when things get in galleries or doing museums but—do you know the person who is more that way than I have been was David McManaway, who almost became like a hermit during his late years. And I don’t know if he was still showing at the time of his death, I just—I don’t know, but I had great regard for David. I've done a number of texts on drawing, and in the last two or three, I've had a little section on David McManaway in a chapter called “Play.” And I describe it as not a—it's not like sports or something like that, but the willingness to let things happen.

LA: Right, the element of chance in your work.

RW: Yes, and David was a master at that. He would not force anything to happen. It would have to fall into place, just during the process of living and looking. And I really admire that side of him. He was deeply influenced, of course, by Joseph Cornell, but there were other dimensions there, too, that were more earthy and maybe even, he didn’t like this word, but maybe even magical or concerned with magic or something, that’s not visible, than his great influence, but certainly you have to think of Joseph Cornell because there weren’t many people who put things together like that.

LA: No, it's true. I came across a quote of yours in the One i at a Time exhibition catalogue.

RW: Oh wow. We’re really going back.

LA: We are. But it’s—you're speaking about David McManaway and it's kind of a fun quote. So, if you don’t mind I’ll just read what you said.

RW: No, that’s fine.

LA: And you said, “One spring night in 1963, David called me from the Standup Bar and asked me to bring my guitar there. He said that a large group from the DMCA membership and staff had dropped by for a beer and that Roy had his tub bass and he had his banjo. When I got there, the group had literally taken over the place. I got into the mood of it and we played for several hours. A drunk redneck at the bar danced by himself right through to the end. When we left, this guy shook my hand and said ‘I had it.’ I consider this the best and purest compliment I have ever received.”

RW: Well, it's got to still made close to it. Because I like to communicate whatever I do to a greater—a wide—broader and wider audience than just the art world or art historians or any aspects of the art world, and I think that may be the result of my early life where I became just—like I still belong, in a lot of ways, to the farm-labor class and the people of that class. I'm not just putting on a story here. You could ask my wife and our family, and they would agree that I feel sort of an egalitarian connection and a compliment from someone who deeply—obviously deeply, felt country music enough to be dancing alone while we were playing. That’s a big compliment.

LA: I also enjoy that quote because it said so much about the kind of atmosphere that surrounded the DMCA as far as the types of friendships. Maybe you can describe that for me.

RW: Yes, that's true. And that’s—the Standup Bar was a bar and David McManaway gave it that name. It was a bar on Cedar Springs about a block and a half north of Oak Lawn, I guess. And there was a long, long bar and David never sat down anywhere. He would always stand at the bar when he went in. When Claes Oldenburg was in Dallas, we got him in the habit of that. He was a very, very different young man and he became more elegant as he grew older. But he was at that time, eating hamburgers and drinking beer a lot. And he loved the Standup Bar, too and we’d go there every day at lunch while he was here. It was really quite a meeting place, like a watering hole, as they say. And we were all young enough; we could do things like that, and still go to work the next day. Oh, wow, that’s quite a memory. I remember that night.

LA: You do?

RW: And I remember Roy. Do you know what a tub bass is?

LA: Uh, no. What is it?

RW: It's about a number three washtub turned upside down. It has a hole in the center of it and then a stick that’s notched so that it fits on the rim of the tub and then a wash line rope tied to the stick and in through the hole of the tub and you can only—by moving the stick, you can change notes. And Roy was quite a master of this. He really loved it. And Roy loved parties, too. Sometimes I think—well, he and David and Norma were like the people that caused the parties to happen.

LA: Oh, really?

RW: Yeah. As I said, Jim Love always came up to those. And there was this man, Hal Pauley, who was in the One i at a Time show, and he was in charge of installations at the museum. And he and his wife, Ruth Pauley, and their children lived across the street from David and Norma. There was also Paul Harris and Peggy, a woman named Peggy Wilson. And Paul and Peggy ran the Children’s House that was connected to the Contemporary Museum. Art classes for children. So, they were always a big part of this also. And I don’t know if you know of the name even but MacAgy’s right-hand man was Urban Neininger, he and his wife, Jean Neininger were also always a part of the group.

LA: Did you ever get Douglas MacAgy to join you in any of your social—?

RW: He did. He and his wife, and they were always so respected. They were treated differently. And the rest of us— They were like the parents and we were the children.

LA: Yeah.

RW: We did and so did Urban Neininger, who had once been voted the best-dressed man in America.

LA: Wow! That’s quite an accomplishment.

RW: Well, he had quite a flair for dressing himself. That's about all I can think of, but if you have other questions, I’d be glad to—I have to finish packing pretty soon but I’ll be glad to respond to—.

LA: Sure. I was just wondering how you became involved with the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts, or the DMCA?

RW: Okay. I know the history of that quite well. So, Charles Williams, the sculptor who lives in Arlington, I actually worked for Charles welding things and soldering things and whatever he needed done. And Charles and his wife, Anita, asked Jeannette and myself, and David and Norma and Roy Fridge to come over at the same time for dinner in Arlington. And we seemed to be immediately friends. It was very easy to get along. And it came out that David played the banjo and I played the guitar.

And so David and Norma invited us over to their house in Dallas. We were—I think we were still living in Fort Worth when we met. And we just had a wonderful night and had so many things in common and we start visiting each other more often, and David asked Douglas if I could work there on the installation crew and he said, “Yes, that would be fine.” And so until it closed, we were all just a very close-knit group. And they were very careful about initiating outsiders, so I felt very proud of myself that I had become a part of it, and Jeannette had too.

LA: Were you teaching at the Museum School while you were at the DMCA, or what was the timing on that, can you recall?

RW: I'm not sure.

LA: I'm just curious because I was wondering what the relationship was between the museum, the DMCA, and the DMFA.

RW: They were not, they were kind of like, not close at that time. The DMCA represented more like an establishment and then I think they saw the—wait a minute. DMCA, did I say?

LA: Right.

RW: DMFA, I'm sorry. But the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts was more like “the establishment” and maybe “traditional.” And the Contemporary Museum, the DMCA, was more like the terrible infant of Dallas. I remember the night of the Oldenburg Happening, everyone had to hold on to a rope as they went along into the Happening and I heard someone say, “The DMFA’s membership is going to really skyrocket tomorrow.”

And there are just—I don’t know if—antagonism might be too big of a word but it wasn’t a friendly relationship. But then on the other hand, after the Dallas Contemporary closed, several—like Betty Marcus and Edward Marcus, who were still living at that time, they made an easy transition I think from the—well, there were others too, but they are the ones that I remember. They made, a sort of like, an easy transition from the DMCA to DMFA at that time.

And I remember they had a big party at their house for—kind of got together people from both museums when the collection at the Contemporary went to the Dallas Museum. We still missed the Contemporary a lot. It was then in that part of town where we lived, and it was just wonderful trying to figure out what on earth Douglas would come up with next. So he really had a very fertile—and in many ways was a visionary. And I have the highest regard for him.

LA: He seems like he did a lot for not—not only you but for many people.

RW: Oh, for the city and for the region. There was a painter, he had a show of Charles Williams, and I think David McManaway and a painter named Toni Lasalle, does her name ring a bell?

LA: Yes. She recently was shown at the Dallas Art Fair by the Barry Whistler Gallery here.

[00:44:02]

RW: Oh so, Barry’s handling her work.

LA: Yeah. I knew because of that and because of the project I found out how long she’d been teaching at Texas Woman’s for 40-some years.

RW: Oh gosh, yeah. And then she lived in—I guess in Provincetown. I think for many, many years after that lived to be a ripe old age. And her work—well, she had studied with Hans Hofmann, and she kind of brought some of the ideas of Hans Hofmann to North Texas. And of course this is something that MacAgy would have found out about right away and showed her work. I own one of her paintings, but she borrowed it back once, and now Murray Smither has it. And he’s always thinking he’s going to give it to me but this better happen soon, we’re not getting any younger.

She showed at Hayden Calhoun also.

LA: Okay.

RW: And Hayden Calhoun and Chapman Kelley both moved away for different reasons. And then Murray Smither became a dealer, and then Smither Gallery became Delahanty Gallery when Laura Carpenter and Virginia Gable sort of bought into it. And then of course there's always been Valley House.

LA: Right. Did you start showing with them early on or at what—?

RW: Well, no. I started with—what’s his name?

LA: Atelier Chapman Kelly and then—

RW: But then I went—I started showing in the late ‘60s with Donald Vogel at Valley House. I believe that Betty Blake originally owned Valley House

LA: She did. It was called the Betty McLean Gallery.

RW: That’s right, yes. And then for some reason, it became Donald’s and then it became Valley House.

[00:46:05]

LA: Well, it's funny because depending on whom you talk to, that reason changes. Some people say it’s because she remarried and her husband didn’t like the—his wife having a job or I don’t know. There's always gossip.

RW: Is that when she became Betty Blake?

LA: I think that was when she became Betty Guiberson.

RW: Guiberson [correcting pronunciation].

LA: Oh, okay. Guiberson, thank you. I’ve been mispronouncing that for a year now.

RW: Well, that’s the way they pronounced it. I don’t even know if that’s correct. But that’s the way—I think it was Alan Guiberson.

LA: Okay.

RW: That's the way people I knew pronounced his name. And then Betty Blake was also very much a fan of Douglas and of those of us who work for him. And I imagine she’s got something—is Betty still living?

LA: She is. And she recently gave to the Nasher Sculpture Center two works by David McManaway and then another work by Jim Love possibly, I can’t remember.

RW: How wonderful.

LA: Yeah. It is wonderful.

RW: That's wonderful. I'm so glad to hear that. And I was going to say, she probably owns something by each one of us who worked at the Contemporary Museum. She was just—such a faithful patron and friend. There was some—there were other collectors who were involved too—I can’t quite recall all the names at the moment, but many of the Dallas collectors were good to the museum and of course the Kutners were.

LA: I think I read somewhere that the Kutners had a garage apartment or something in the back where artists would kind of rotate in and out of living there.

[00:48:01]

RW: Yes, that’s true. I think it was on Sale Street. That’s the street near that park on Hall Street?

LA: The Lee Park?

RW: Yes, Lee Park. It was near there, just off from there. But would you like to hear how the title of One i at a Time came to be?

LA: I would love to hear that because it seems very—it implies something but I want to know—I would love to hear that. Yes, please.

RW: Yeah. Okay. Douglas was living in Washington, D.C., I think, and he came down. And I think Bill Jordan was the one that initiated this whole One i at a Time thing. But Douglas MacAgy came down and one of the things he wanted to do while he was in Dallas was to figure out a name for the show. And Jim Love was talking to me. And I should say at Janet Kutner’s house. Janet and John had a big party for all of us, sort of a buffet dinner for all of us. And I was sitting right beside Douglas MacAgy and Jim Love was talking to me. And sometimes I drift away. I drift and sort of get out of focus, and I sort of blink my eyes, it’s like a nervous tick. I don’t do it so badly anymore but I did then.

I knew that I was blinking one eye at a time because they see things so differently. My eyes do and they’ve been that way since childhood. And then Jim Love saw that I had drifted away, and he threw his napkin at me and said, “Goddamn it! Stop blinking your eyes and listen to me!” And I said, “It's not eyes, it’s one eye at a time.” And Douglas sort of hit me on the knee and said, “You’ve got it Roger. That’s going to be the title of the show!”

And what he was thinking of was the way a peep show is viewed. More like in David McManaway and Roy Fridge’s work, like you look at a peep show with one eye at a time. And then he turned the eye into the letter “I” instead of the E-Y-E eye. And that's the way it happened. It never changed. I mean it was just that one instance, and that gives probably a lot more insight into Douglas than Jim Love or me because he saw all of that instantly. He heard that sentence and everything fell into place for him. And if anyone tells you any other story, it's not correct.

LA: Well, I have it on record now. This is going down on record—.

RW: Yeah so that’s precisely the way that it happened. Well, there’s nobody left now that was there to witness it. But maybe Jeannette was witness to it. But Jim, his throwing the napkin and everything was just his way of being friendly.

LA: Yeah.

RW: It's funny. Jim was also a wonderful character and I'm sure you’ve heard that from others. He’s a great artist and a great guy.

LA: And he came up from Houston. So, did you guys ever go down to Houston to visit him?

RW: Not very much. Roy Fridge and I drove down once to see a show that MacAgy had curated for some museum or organization there called Pop Goes the Easel. Roy and I drove down for that and Jim, Roy, and I hung out. I remember that visit. It was mostly Jim who would just fly up, it didn’t take much time.

LA: What was he—was it the DMCA that brought him to Dallas so frequently, or was it just that he was such good friends with everybody?

[00:52:10]

RW: Both.

LA: Both.

RW: Those were inseparable.

LA: Mm-hmm.

RW: And of course the friendship remained long after the DMCA closed.

LA: How did you feel about the merger of the museums and the closing of the DMCA?

RW: Well, I think it enriched the DMA in many ways. It caused some of the artists, certainly, to be more sympathetic with the DMA because, as I said, it had that shadow of regionalism, which was the last year’s ideas. And maybe that's not really fair because the DMA had a broader collection that Jerry Bywaters was very, very supportive of, regional artists working in sort of a post-cubist sense, making Texas landscapes in a cubistic way. By way of—the Mexican artist, [Rufino] Tamayo had a great influence on the stylization, I think, of Texas painters at that time.

And of course the person I'm going to talk about tomorrow in Abilene, Loren Mozley. His background was in New Mexico, or a big part of it was. His mentor was Andrew Dasburg, who had more direct relations with French cubism and the beginnings of it. And Mozley certainly brought that aesthetic point of view to University of Texas when he came there. A very generous man.

[00:54:12]

LA: Did you study with him at the university?

RW: I did, and he was more than a teacher. And I hope you get a copy of the catalogue—I’ve forgotten what they called it. I wrote the essay for the catalogue.

LA: Oh, okay. I’ll be sure I’ll get it.

RW: And it's out now and I'm very, very happy with it. You could get one from Lisa Hees at the MAC.

LA: Okay.

RW: And I would like for you to—I’d like for you to have it.

LA: Sure.

RW: If I had more copies, I would send you one, but Claude Albritton’s been a little stingy with these copies. But I told him, “I’ll get them in good hands, don’t worry!” I worked hard on the essay and it's going to be at the Dallas Museum next February.

LA: Wonderful.

RW: The show. But I don’t know who’s involved with it. I guess it wouldn’t be the contemporary curator, would it? It would be more like—.

LA: We have an American curator, Sue Canterbury, I think her last name is. And she is new—I’ll get in touch with her though about this exhibition.

RW: Well, in the catalogue, it says—it gives the days that it will be at the Dallas Museum. And then years from now, I mean 2015, it's supposed to come to the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum here in Santa Fe.

LA: That will be nice. So, it’ll come back here?

RW: Well, it will be, and I hope I'm around to see it at that time. I’ll be getting a bit long in tooth by then, but they had, their calendar is so filled, they’re—it's not able to— Pardon?

LA: That’s a crazy amount of time.

RW: I know.

LA: Their calendar, they’re a busy, busy place.

RW: I know. And as soon as I get back from Abilene I'm going to bring the catalogues to the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum and ask, “Can’t they speed it up a little bit?” I'm not getting any younger. And they do have—I'm sure you’ve been there and they do have—they have adequate space to have a separate show. And Loren Mozley was O’Keeffe’s driver for a long time, and friend and—I've heard his prized possession was a cow skull that she gave him and he always kept it over his mantle. And so he had a connection there and he was the secretary typist for Mabel Dodge for several years. And I think he brought this sort of glamour to the University of Texas, and I noticed something as his student at the University of Texas, I noticed that some of the other teachers would—say kind of bad things about him and at that point I just wondered why because he seemed so great to me.

And when I started teaching, I began to understand the kind of backbiting and rivalry and jealousies and kinds of things that go on in an art faculty. And I think Loren Mozley was a little bit more cultured and his background was a little more connected to the art world than some of the others who taught there. And there was probably jealousy going on.

LA: I'm sure.

RW: It's my guess.

LA: Yeah. That’s usually the root of those kinds of problems.

[00:58:00]

RW: But as an 18- and 19-year-old, it confused me that one teacher would say something bad about the other. That didn’t happen in Denison High School. And that was my only model for school. Well, I would hate to be the one to bring this to an end because I love to talk, and I love to talk about those wonderful years but I do have to pack and get boarding passes.

LA: Sure. I completely understand, and I have kept you long enough. I think I have almost got you on the phone for an hour now.

RW: Well, that's not because of you, that’s because of me.

LA: No. And I enjoyed this. This is great and I'm wondering if you might be willing to do a follow-up conversation after you’ve gone to Abilene and after you maybe settled in and we can have—I can get some more information. . . . I have just tons more questions and it would be great to speak with you again. So, maybe do you have more free time later in the month or maybe in another week or so?

RW: Oh yeah, sure.

LA: Okay, great.

Roger Winter (Part 2)

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Interviewee: Roger Winter
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: May 23, 2012
Location: By telephone from New York, New York

Roger Winter: Just fine. Thanks for calling.

Leigh Arnold: You’re welcome.

RW: Yesterday, I was talking to—do you know Quin Mathews? Do you remember who that is?

LA: Yes, I do. I mean, I’ve met him in the past, yeah.

RW: Okay. He’s going to come out here and make a film in my studio and one of the suggestions for an approach for it is talk to him—he’s made a film already—but this would be to talk to me about the DMCA days and the Oak Lawn days, and I told him that the museum was doing this and that you were the person, as far as I know, doing the questioning—interviewing. And he asked me to ask you if you ever got the time, would you call him?

LA: Yes. I can, definitely. . . .

RW: I think he would really appreciate it because, you know he’s—Quin’s a professional. He’s been around for a long time.

LA: Yeah, I know. When I met him, he was describing all of the different interviews he’s done over the years and it just really boggled my mind, the amount of experience he’s had.

RW: I know. He travels a lot too. He used to be an anchorman on one of the Dallas—Fort Worth TV stations.

LA: Oh, really? I didn’t know that.

RW: Yes. That’s the only way our children, who are grown men and beyond, that’s the only way they knew him and once when he was in New York, we had dinner with him and our younger son and he was just amazed because he’d only seen him on TV when he was a kid, giving the news, and there he was sitting across the table. But then he’s gone on to other things and I think he has a very special interest in making films about artists and the art world.

LA: Well, that’s a great suggestion, and I would be happy to give him a call probably this afternoon.

RW: Oh, thank you. I’m sure he would appreciate it, and it’d probably be helpful towards his film.

LA: Yeah, absolutely. Well, it’s May 23, 2012, and we’re on the phone again with Roger Winter and this is going to be part two of our Oral History Interview for the Dallas Museum of Art’s History of Contemporary Art Collecting in Dallas Research Project, funded by the Texas Fund for Curatorial Research. Again, I’m Leigh Arnold, project researcher at the DMA, and I’ll be speaking with Roger, and again, thanks Roger for taking a little bit more time to talk to me some more.

RW: I’m happy to do that, and you said the last time we spoke that, there were some questions you had still that you didn’t get a chance to bring up, and so if you have any questions that would help me.

LA: Sure! In fact I think maybe we could start out and I was curious if you could maybe talk about the gallery scene or the lack of the gallery scene in Dallas when you arrived in the ‘60s and what the options were for emerging artists like you if you wanted to show your work.

RW: Well, there were so few compared to now. Of course, Valley House Gallery was there and had been there before we came for some time. I think it was originally owned by Betty Blake.

[00:04:03]

LA: Betty Blake.

RW: And somehow it became the property of Donald Vogel, I think. I’m not sure how that happened, but I think that was probably the first gallery in Dallas that showed modern art. When we arrived, there were two major galleries other than Valley House, and these are both in the Fairmount-Maple-Routh Streets area, and one of them was Atelier Chapman Kelley. And the other one was—oh, what was his name? I’ll think of it in a moment.

I had my first show—first solo show—at the Chapman Kelley Gallery and then everybody that I knew came to see it and everything, but Chapman was not considered very cutting edge, maybe he was too sympathetically tied with the Pennsylvania Academy where he’d studied and he’d bring painters like Hobson Pittman and people who had taught at the Pennsylvania Academy as guests. And I got a little bit of criticism for showing with him—oh, Hayden Calhoun was the other dealer. And he was on Fairmount. I got a little criticism for showing with Chapman but later somehow his image changed and I know David McManaway, Roy Fridge, Jim Love, probably Jack Boynton from Houston and various other contemporary people showed there—with Chapman—and he was especially proud of showing someone named Alberto Collie. Does that name ring a bell?

LA: It does. I have a funny story about Alberto Collie.

[00:06:00]

RW: Oh, you know about him, all right. [Laughter] Well, Chapman was very, very proud of showing his work because he had these Brancusi-like forms that were magnetic and he’d put them on a magnetic base, opposite poles together and tie them to the base with a strong nylon string, I guess. And I remember a Dallas critic for the Dallas Morning News, his name was Rual Askew, who was very supportive of Chapman’s gallery, I think it was the headline of an art review of Alberto Collie’s show it said, “Brancusi’s Bird Has Taken Flight.” Chapman would still say what a wonderful thing that was, but I always thought of it as more of a gimmick than it was really serious art. I don’t know what’s happened to Alberto Collie in recent years.

LA: As far as I know, he’s back in Venezuela. Is that where he’s from originally?

RW: I think so.

LA: I happened to meet his ex-wife by chance, just looking for an apartment in Oak Cliff. She happened to be the manager of it and she asked me if his name sounded familiar when she found out the work I was doing for the museum. And it was just a very funny moment because we here were, just strangers and then I found out her connection to Alberto Collie and all of a sudden, I’m just bombarding her with questions about what it was like to be married to him and when they lived in Dallas and how she met so many different people because of their relationship. It was very interesting.

[00:08:07]

RW: It’s possible that I met her but I don’t remember her. I remember meeting Alberto once. And you mention Oak Cliff—he and Chapman Kelley, both, were somehow related to a hotel management school that had an art department that opened in Oak Cliff.

LA: Oh right, it was Northwood Institute.

RW: Northwood Institute.

LA: Yeah, it’s actually in Cedar Hill, a little bit further south of Oak Cliff.

RW: All right.

LA: Yeah.

RW: South of Oak Cliff. But is it still out there?

LA: Yes, but it’s changed its name, it’s Northwood University now, and the experimental art program that both Chapman and Alberto were a part of no longer exists.

RW: I see. Well, Chapman, between him and Hayden Calhoun and I guess I could say Donald Vogel, but there were a couple of other galleries, but those were the major three in my memory. Well, there was Mary Nye who showed some of Otis Dozier’s work. And at one point I think showed David McManaway’s work. She was, I think, on Hall Street or in the Lee Park area. But Chapman was more involved in the political art world beyond his gallery than Hayden Calhoun was.

My second solo show was with Hayden Calhoun and Hayden closed because of some financial problem I think.

LA: Yeah, I think he was related to the Art Rental Program that the DMA or the DMFA was running. And I think his gallery and a few others kind of got up in arms and filed a lawsuit at the museum.

RW: There were often lawsuits. [Laughter] When Murray Smither, who was Chapman Kelley’s gallery director for several years and you probably know Murray or you’ve met him.

LA: I did, yeah. I met him last week actually. He’s very nice.

RW: When Murray Smither broke away from Chapman and opened Smither Gallery, which was on Allen Street in Dallas, Chapman thought he had found a reason to have Murray arrested for misusing an expense account. So on the opening of Smither Gallery on the afternoon that it opened, Chapman Kelley sent someone from the sheriff’s department to the gallery, who arrested Murray Smither and put him in jail.

LA: Were you there? Were you at the opening?

RW: No, I wasn’t. I later had a show at Smither Gallery, but no, I wasn’t. It would have been quite a scene. I bring it up to Murray now and then just as a reality check. And then, of course Murray was bought into by Laura Carpenter and Virginia Gable and the three of them became the co-owners of Delahunty Gallery. I think at that time, Delahunty Gallery was probably the gallery with the most polarity and probably the most respect that had been in Dallas at that time.

Sometimes I have trouble thinking of names, but I think Delahunty sort of went to New York and to Santa Fe and someone else, Eugene Binder, sort of took over. By the time we moved away from Dallas, the whole Dallas gallery world had become very complicated. There was D.W. Co-op and there was Richard Childers’s Gallery, I think it was 500X. I don’t know, maybe it still exists?

LA: It still exists.

RW: And just many, many other galleries in different parts of town, but Dallas was far more parochial and local when we moved there in the early ‘60s.

LA: Well speaking of local, I came across the gallery announcement that was in Paul Rogers Harris’s collection, because he keeps everything.

RW: I know he did.

LA: It was a gallery announcement from Hayden Calhoun Gallery from 1964 on a show called The Local Scene.

RW: I remember that.

LA: And it featured your work with Roy Fridge, Toni LaSalle, David McManaway, and Jeanette Winter.

RW: Yes, I remember that. I bought a little Toni LaSalle painting from that show. She borrowed it back. And at this point, Murray Smither has it and I’ve never received it back and that was in, what, 1964?

LA: It was, yes.

RW: That was really before Jeanette had started illustrating children’s books, and she did show at Hayden Calhoun’s, and he sold several things of hers from there.

LA: What was your work in that show? Do you remember what you were doing at that time?

[00:14:004]

RW: That was ’64? I really don’t. I had a show there in ’65 and I remember the things that I showed in ’65 and I can’t remember what was in that show. Was there anything in the review about the work?

LA: I haven’t had the chance to find the review, but it’s a neat little post card and I think ’64 would have been just after the merging of the Dallas Museum of Contemporary Art with the DMFA. So you guys were still showing together?

RW: Well, yes, and we were also kind of stranded at that point, I think. Because I believe by that time probably MacAgy had left.

LA: He had, yup.

RW: And it was like someone threw a grenade in the Oak Lawn area and people were kind of scattering. And then I remember a few, probably something I had in the 1964 show was a painting called The Dove and two things about it:

One thing, it was the first time I had ever used like a photographic image in a painting and it was just small image of our older child, the only child that we had then in a sailor suit. And then I found out later that someone I admired very much, named Romare Bearden, had done a painting, a very, very big montage collage and called The Dove also in 1964.

LA: Oh, really?

RW: Yeah. I had no idea that he had, but I was happy because I admired what he was doing as far as putting spaces together.

[00:16:02]

LA: Right. I was curious if you were there the evening, or either evening, because I understand there were two performances of Claes Oldenburg’s Injun at the DMCA.

RW: Yes, I was there. And Claes wanted Jeanette and me to take part in it, but Jeanette was very pregnant with our first son

LA: Oh, really?

RW: But Claes was saying, “Well, I know a dancer who danced when she was eight months pregnant,” but Jeannette didn’t want to do it and I didn’t either. I know, I think everybody who was in it. Joe Hobbs is the painter who taught at Arlington State at that time in Arlington. And he and a group of his painting students all were wrestling around on the floor, Hal Pauley was in the room with some newspapers playing, or pretending to play, a violin. There were just rooms in this house and Claes was dressed up like an Indian sort of some kind of savage-looking costume made out of shredded papers. He was dancing and moving around. I think I mentioned the last time, to view it we held on to a rope and sort of moved in through the rooms in the building that belong to the DMCA, moved in a certain direction. And I heard someone say behind us, “Boy, the membership in the DMFA is going to skyrocket tomorrow!”

LA: [Laughter] Because it was just so out there?

RW: Because it was so different for Dallas at that time. And it was part of a show called 1961, as I’m sure you know, but it was done in—and this was like MacAgy, the show was in 1962. And they had Oldenburg’s Store set up. And someone from one of the local news stations came to interview Claes and Pat Oldenburg. Well, mainly interview Claes, but Pat was there. I think the way I'm describing that is one reason that marriage didn’t last so long, because she did a lot of the sewing, she did a lot of things, but I don’t think Pat ever got the credit she deserved for that.

But anyway, David McManaway and I were up on a ladder. We’re up on a couple of ladders, just out of sight of the TV camera. And the reporter said, “Mr. Oldenburg, some of us don’t understand your art.” This was in the wake of abstract expressionism where everyone yawned in front of a Franz Kline. [Laughter] And Oldenburg said, “Well, I can explain it to you. This is an ice cream cone. This is a hamburger, and this is a tomato.” And Pat said, “That’s not a tomato. That’s a candied apple.” He said, “Yeah. This is a candied apple.” David and I were about to fall off the ladder because it was like presenting something that was so factual and so commonplace, that it wasn’t even understood. It couldn’t be seen as art.

LA: Right.

RW: I'll tell you something about the opening of that show that I think should be a part of Dallas—Fort Worth’s art history: Claes had a slice of like a meringue pie. I think something like a lemon pie, coconut pie made of plaster and enamel and probably burlap and chicken wire as the structure of it, and it was sitting on a little saucer on a chair that he’d borrowed from David and Norma McManaway, a blue chair—just an old-timey kitchen chair and a painter from Fort Worth, his name was Bror Utter—. Do you know that name?

LA: Yes. I’m familiar with that name, yeah.

RW: Okay. And Bror Utter came with a friend of his, Sam Cantey, who was, I think, president of one of the better banks in Fort Worth. And Bror, I think, got a little drunk and he was so outraged by all of this that he picked the piece of pie up off the chair and bit a piece out of it. Someone alerted Oldenburg that someone had bitten the pie so he took it and went to MacAgy and showed him what had happened and said, “What should I do about this?” And Douglas MacAgy said—I think he said, “Can you repair it?” And Oldenburg said, “Yes.” And he said, “I think you should just repair it and forget about it.” The main concern was it was borrowed. It was on loan to the show. But that seems always to me to be a remarkable reaction to art.

LA: Just taking a bite out of it.

RW: Yes! And also right through plaster and burlap.

LA: Yeah.

RW: It was very emotional reaction.

[00:22:01]

LA: Yeah, very visceral.

RW: Yes. Well, that was kind of like the nature of that show and for me, I had gone to—I brought that at the University of Iowa, which at one time had had a remarkable faculty and reputation for MFA degrees. And we both had found it pretty depressing, and the only thing that was really believed in there and taught was painterly realism, sort of a Fairfield Porter, redone.

I guess when I got to Dallas, that was about all that I had been taught, that’s what I've believed in at that time or the way I painted, and David, especially David and Roy and Douglas MacAgy with his shows like the René Magritte show, the 1961 show, the Art of the Circus show. These really transformed me, and I never returned to my original proportions, to quote Oliver Wendell Holmes—I’d been stretched by a new idea and that was in ’62, ’63, ’64, and it’s changed everything I did since then and made me feel like I was—well, it was my coming of age period in my work although it’s changed in various ways. It’s never gone back to where it was before MacAgy and before the Oak Lawn period. I guess David was probably the biggest influence because I’d been taught to be so very serious all the time and critical of everything and of my own work. And David and Roy too, although I knew David better, had such a beautiful sense of play and it wasn’t all ethically hung up. He was just so playful and, you know, we would kind of find things together in dime stores that didn’t look very congruous.

LA: Did you ever exchange Jomo’s with David?

RW: Well yeah. The two of us—in the house where Jeanette and I lived, on Newton Street, which is just off Oak Lawn. There was a garage there and the whole house was to be torn down and David and I in the garage started building this whole—you might call it—Jomo room.

LA: Oh, really?

RW: Oh, it was something! When we moved and the house was torn down—David and I went back by there, and one of the workers said, “Who was the artist that lived here?” Because they had found out all these strange things in the garage and I had made, by way of Claes Oldenburg, I’d have to say, I had made a dog and some colorful balls, a dog and balls, like a circus dog out of plaster, and I had them in our front yard on Newton, and someone stole it out on the front yard. I had something of Roy Fridge’s in our front yard on Irving Avenue, and someone stole that from that front yard. And I have never understood that kind of thief I guess who would want these.

[00:26:06]

LA: Someone with a good eye. [Laughter]

RW: Well, I guess so but you think that person would be not a thief.

LA: Maybe this person was collecting Jomos of his or her own.

RW: That very well could be. I’ve never even thought of that. They thought, “I like this. I’m going to take it.”

LA: Yeah.

RW: And you may have heard of this story, too, but David was once arrested and put in jail very, very early in the morning.

LA: I had not heard the story.

RW: Well, this is during a period when Oak Lawn as we knew it was being torn down and the big apartment buildings were starting to come up. David would go out very early before workers got there and he would pick up things. Well, David was a magician in a way. He would find things that no one else saw, and he would pick up things from destruction sites and construction sites.

At the same time, there was someone that the police were looking for who they called the Oak Lawn Marauder. They happened to see David practically before daylight, and he had on tennis shoes, which the police thought marauders always wore. And so they picked him up as the Oak Lawn Marauder and took him to jail and told him he could make one phone call and he phoned Norma and she wasn’t even out of bed yet. This was early. And he said, “Norma, I’m in jail.” And she said, “Well, I will call a lawyer.” And she called someone they knew who is a lawyer and the lawyer said, “Make sure that he doesn’t tell them that he’s an artist.”

00:28:05

LA: Because then they would be certain, right?

RW: Well, that would erase any doubt. If he was an artist, he was at least strange enough to put him in jail.

LA: Yeah, exactly.

RW: But anyway, the lawyer went to the jail and got David out and the police realized they had made a mistake. I don’t know if a story like that is useful but I think it shows a little bit of the relationship of the Dallas artists and the police at that time. I can’t emphasize enough how often Jim Love came to Dallas. He loved the irony that he would fly up to Love Field and usually spend a weekend and spend his time at David and Norma’s house. I think I said before. I think they were the—

LA: The nucleus of the group?

RW: Yes. We all lived pretty near, but Hal Pauley and his family lived right across the street from David and Norma on Welborn Street and all of us were near. As I said, I think it was about the most vital thing going on in Texas at that time and a lot of that was the result of Douglas MacAgy.

LA: Were you ever involved or did you have any relationship with the Dallas Theater Center and Paul Baker?

RW: No, but the others did. He had taught at Baylor before he came to Dallas, which I’m sure you know. Jim Love and Roy Fridge somehow studied with them. Jim, I think he was majoring in business. I'm not sure what Roy was majoring in but they both worked with and were fans of Paul Baker. Roy Fridge married someone who—I think she might have even taken Paul Baker's place, Mary Sue Fridge or at least she became very important. She and Roy had split up, but she became very important at Dallas Theater Center. Of course we went to plays there. I mean, at that time very advanced plays, (00:30:47) theater of absurd plays.

LA: Oh, the art.

RW: Yes. And it was a vital place in Dallas, and of course the fact that it was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, no matter how unrealistic some details in it were like—there was a stairway that led down into a wall.

LA: I didn’t realize that.

RW: Well, we didn’t until we went down to the stairs. But it was a vital place and that too was in the Oak Lawn area. I've lost track of that really and don’t know if that part of town still has any studios.

LA: Well, Turtle Creek is pretty much lined with tall high-rise condos and apartments. The Kalita Humphreys Theater is still there. But I think there are some small homes and maybe remnants of that neighborhood near Lee Park and kind of closer to Oak Lawn to and behind Oak Lawn but I don’t know where—

[00:32:15]

RW: Like there are still cottages?

LA: Yeah, and I don’t know where the artists’ neighborhoods would be today, but I think it’s just everybody is so spread out now.

RW: Yeah. For a while, there were lots of studios being rented out of old buildings around East Commerce and Elm and that part, but I don’t know if that’s still the case or not.

LA: Yeah, there are few artists living in that area and also near 500X and Exposition Park and that is kind of—I think it was very vital in the 1980s and 1990s. But the activity kind of slowed down for a little bit, and I think it's starting to pick up again.

RW: In that part of Dallas.

LA: Yeah.

RW: Well that’s where my gallery is that Kirk Hopper: East Commerce—

LA: No, go ahead, I’m sorry—

RW: Well, he has a very good space and a lot that he used like a sculpture garden in the back. From my point of view, he is doing very well. I don’t know if in general he is, but I'm happy I'm there.

LA: We're happy you are there too because that means you are still connected to Dallas in some way.

RW: Well yes, that’s right. I had been through three theaters and then later to Gerald Peters as you know he closed the Dallas gallery. That was a renaissance for that gallery while he was there because he added people like myself and David and Jim Love. He added a lot of things that—I don’t know, Gerald Peters had run into some problems when—what’s her name, Talley [Dunn]?—then left and a lot of artists followed her and artists who are still on the scene I think, like David Bates, and I'm not sure who else, a guy from Fort Worth.

LA: Vernon Fisher.

RW: Vernon Fisher is still there. And I think also that gallery—things are a little more cutting edge than Gerald Peters’s.

LA: How did Ted [Pillsbury] get or did you meet Ted through the Artist’s Eye program at the Kimbell [Art Museum], or how did you connect to local?

RW: That’s right. The first two people from that gallery talks in the Kimbell were myself and Vernon Fisher.

LA: Okay.

RW: And then Bill Jordan was like the associate director of—I'm not sure what his title was, but he was working with Ted and I knew Ted for very long before meeting him. And because he was a friend I guess with Philip Pearlstein, the New York figurative painter, and Pearlstein had done portrait of Ted and his wife and his daughter—

[00:36:15]

LA: Yeah, the two of them. I've seen that. That's beautiful.

RW: Oh, you have seen the painting.

LA: Uh-hmm.

RW: Do you know if this is off the subject but I saw Mireille, and she told me I could call her Mimi. That’s what her mother called her and I had trouble pronouncing her French name. I saw her last spring, a little more than a year ago and I wonder if she is—what’s her condition?

LA: She is still in treatment as far as I know. It's been terribly—it's been over a couple of months since last time I talked to her, but I think she is now living with her son and his wife and their new baby in Oak Cliff. But I think—sometimes I think she is going to live forever because she just has the will of that kind of person. But I think her condition has gotten a little bit worse in the past.

RW: It’s Christine?

LA: It's their daughter.

RW: Is the daughter visiting at all?

LA: She's gone to visit Christine and her husband and family in Malta.

RW: Yes, in Malta now?

LA: They have a home in Malta but they live mostly in Singapore. But I think traveling to Singapore is just too far and too hard on Mireille. So the last time I think she visited the family in Malta. And I don’t know how often Christine comes to Dallas. She came back a few times you know in 2010 and then in 2011 to help kind of settle up Ted’s—but I think for the most part, she likes to have Mireille visit her at their various locations.

[00:38:11]

RW: It’s so good that Mireille has the stamina to make the trip.

LA: That’s true.

RW: And I love her and Ted both. I met Christine and she’s just like them.

LA: Yeah, she’s just like Ted.

RW: I know, she’s just terrific. I was very happy I meet her. She asked me about the images of little paintings in a certain period and I did it, and he brought one.

LA: Oh, that’s so nice.

RW: Oh, it really was. I was shocked and very happy.

LA: That’s so nice, yeah. But it was through his Artist’s Eye program that you’ve kind of got involved with that.

RW: I think so, and that’s where I met him was giving a talk at the Kimbell. We just spoke briefly that day, and then I didn’t see him again until Gerald Peters’s days. And then he did so to maybe to know at the Meadows [Museum at Southern Methodist University] with recent work of mine. It was very, very different from the earlier works I've done. It's called The Subway Series and Beyond, and Ted wrote the catalogue where there were several—our sons wrote some. And then after that I kind of lost track of him. I last saw Ted in 2007—no, 2008. I did a little show at the MADI Museum in Dallas. And they had a dinner afterwards and Ted and Mimi were there. She liked that because it reminds her of her mother.

LA: Right. That’s sweet. Next time I talk to her, I'll mention that.

RW: Sure, please do and I remember her so well.

LA: Yeah, she's great. I was wondering while you were a professor at SMU and teaching, if you were connected to what William Jordan was doing at the Meadows Museum and with the University of Pollock Galleries.

RW: I never saw that. Well, it was Pollock Gallery and then it was called the University Gallery for a while. They were all really I guess part of somehow the Meadows Museum, but I was there before Bill and I had a sort of almost messianic drive to teach. It was a way to make money to support a family, but I really love teaching since University of Texas days with teachers like Lauren Mosley, who did a catalogue for this and Everett Spruce, Constance Forsyth, William Lester. I wanted to be a teacher because they were so important to me, and I never knew there was such a thing as an “artist/teacher,” but they're the ones who certainly wouldn’t worthwhile . So I want the kind of life that could be and that’s what I wanted to be and that’s why I went to the University of Iowa to get the MFA. At that time that was what you needed as a background in order to teach.

Jerry Bywaters—before Jordan came to SMU—Jerry Bywaters was, you know, the director of the Dallas Museum [of Fine Art] but was being sort of phased out. He would ask me—and he was head of the Art Department at SMU—and he asked me once, "Brother Roger, would you like to teach a photography class?" And I said, "I don’t know anything about photography." And the next year, he asked me if I would like to teach a design class, and that was more interesting, but I said, “No, I don’t think I would want to do that.” And then he asked me if I would like to teach a drawing class and I said, "I would love to." And the art department was on the third floor of Dallas Hall at that time. Well, I had already been teaching it at the Dallas Museum and in SMU’s high school, and I just got totally absorbed in the art department on the campus and spent altogether 26 years teaching at SMU.

LA: Wow.

RW: I think that I had some very, very outstanding students during that time. Also from the Dallas Museum School, that served a big purpose for the high school. There were high school classes, and so many people who are still around started with me in the Dallas Museum School at Saturday classes. It’s a painter name Robert Yarber. I don’t know if you know his work.

LA: No, I'm not familiar.

RW: Sort of flying figures and people falling from—anyway, Robert Yarber started there. Stephen Mueller started there. He taught until he retired, I guess, at Bennington College. People are still working in the Dallas area. Charlotte Davis started the museum classes. I love that high school age because they had their hearts on their sleeves—and they’re saying most on about things.

To tell you what historical period this was, one of my students was a valedictorian at a Jesuit high school, and he couldn’t attend the graduation and give his valedictory speech because he was in jail for marijuana possession. [Laughter] That is a true ‘60s story. [Laughter] I love my students at SMU and I love the idea of teaching and I've done five texts on drawing. I understand from Quin Mathews that you have a friend who has done a very, very elaborate textbook.

LA: I do, I guess. Her name is Debbie DeWitte. She did basically a textbook.

RW: Don’t the permission rights for all the reproductions cost thousands and thousands of dollars?

LA: I'm sure.

RW: I don’t know who that is.

LA: It was a friend of mine who I know shows a graduate program at UT Dallas. She worked with a larger publishing company and coauthored an art history textbook, but instead of the usual chronological order, I think her approach takes a look at art history through themes as opposed to chronology, and as a way to kind of incorporate Eastern and non-Western perspective I guess you could say. That’s the best way to put it.

She wrote it because she teaches at UT Arlington and at the University of Dallas, and most of her students are nonwhite, non-Western, and they were just not engaging with a lot of the traditional textbooks that are used because traditional textbooks focus on typically white, typically Western culture, and so she decided to offer a book that could include everything and kind of be something a little bit different.

RW: At least a lot of the drawing text, it was women who drew were scarce, and I even thought at one point of doing one of my texts and having messing with drawings or examples about women, and just because it was so solidly male in the earlier—I mean, like, the ‘50s and ‘60s.

LA: Yeah, that would be interesting. Maybe you should do it!

RW: Well, it would be interesting. I might do that. I always have more projects than I need; I might as well add that one! But actually I wanted to say that I certainly know about the cost of reproduction rights and even refusals. It’s not an easy thing and it takes someone with probably a good—I don’t know what you’d call it—administrative mind to keep up with. She probably had an assistant, your friend.

[00:48:04]

LA: I don’t think she did. I kind of like to call her superwoman because on top of writing the textbooks, she taught at three different places, and is working on her PhD, and she is a mother.

RW: Oh boy! She is a person after my own heart. She is my kind of person.

LA: I know. She's unstoppable.

RW: Overload yourself. Do you know the painter Robert Birmelin?

LA: No, I don’t.

RW: He was sort of a big name for a while like a lot of people, he lost it, or however you want to say it, but he refers to me as a man of many parts because I seem to have a lot of different things going at any given time with just—perhaps like your friend, it seems natural.

LA: Yeah. Well, yeah.

RW: Not natural to everybody.

LA: No.

RW: I guess.

LA: Yeah, I can relate. I think I'm more productive when I have a lot of projects.

RW: Oh yes, I am too. I'm more alive unless I have less energy to worry about things because I don’t have time for that.

LA: That’s exactly right.

RW: Bill Jordan, when he came to us, two things happened. He came at the same time that SMU moved its art department and its whole arts program into a different building that was built just for the arts. Bill also added a kind of glamour to SMU's art department and I doubt if it ever had before. He knew people. He and Dennis Hopper were very close for a while, and he got SMU involved, for better or worse, in the summer program art house. I think they may have lived and at the Mable Dodge Luhan House a while.

[00:50:05]

LA: Yeah, I think you're right.

RW: His being there was definitely a plus for the school starting from graduate department was probably good because it brought in more mature students and there were Meadows grants in Meadows Museum that covered tuition. And maybe some grants beyond that. Some people were coming in from other parts of the world to SMU, and I certainly worked awfully hard as a teacher. Maybe everyone wouldn’t say my work was good. Everyone would admit that that I did everything that I could to make it as strong or good as I could.

LA: Do you recall any of the exhibitions that Bill Jordan brought in to the university gallery?

RW: Pardon?

LA: Do you recall some of the exhibitions that Bill Jordan brought in to the university gallery?

RW: Yes, I can't tell you the titles. I mentioned Dennis Hopper. He did an exhibition once where the motorcycle from—was it Easy Rider?

LA: Yes.

RW: It was one of the exhibitions in the university gallery. He was far more adventurous. He would take great chances with exhibitions. He and I, basically the two of us, we were so into every possible kind of drawing we could collect, any form of drawing, and someone even gave us some drawings of music sheets that [Enrique] Caruso had drawn.

[00:52:14]

LA: Oh really?

RW: Yes, and that was really exciting to people because it's kind of extended the idea of what drawing was. It wasn’t just an atelier thing to do with skylights, lights filtering down. That’s broad, you think, but maybe someone did without even knowing to call it drawing. He didn’t have money or any of the shows that would compare with MacAgy shows. But then he did do, you know, he’d had a catalogue, he is the one that fostered one at a time [One i at a Time, Pollock Galleries, Southern Methodist University, March 20–April 25, 1971], so by getting MacAgy to curate it and getting all these works together.

LA: Why do you think he decided to do that show? It wasn’t sure, knowing you and knowing some of the other artists that he came—

RW: I was triggered by—Roy Fridge came down to SMU. He was, I think, teaching at University of Oklahoma at that time. Roy came as a visitor and of course that caused a lot of get-togethers in the evening. I think it was Bill's idea sort of triggered by David, Roy, and myself probably getting together again. And then he got MacAgy into it, and then MacAgy has dreamed up the show, and pretty well selected the things that would be in the show and wrote a very unusual catalogue for the show.

I don’t really like MacAgy’s writing, but I don’t think everyone really liked it that much. I wanted to mention something. Janet Kutner's name would come up. Janet and John have a little house on—oh gee, it wasn’t Hall Street but it was one of the streets in the Oak Lawn area. In the back of the house, there was probably a guesthouse, and they rented that out. I know David McManaway was in it for some time. It could be that Herb Rogalla has used it as a studio. So Janet and John were great supporters of the contemporary museum and great supporters of the artists in that area, in the Oak Lawn area.

LA: I need to speak with her. I'm sure she would have a wealth of information to share.

RW: I'm sure she would and I don’t remember what her job was but she worked at the DMCA.

LA: Right. I think I've seen places she wrote PR for the DMCA and she was a secretary to MacAgy, and she kind of did a few different odd jobs working there.

RW: Their houses were often used for big parties or dinner parties because their house kept getting bigger. [Laughter] The little house, I think it was on Sale Street. That was just an Oak Lawn cottage, and then they moved to Inwood—or just off Inwood—and that was a much more impressive home, and then they bought a home and grounds at North Dallas. We were there many, many times, and I'm not even sure where Janet and John live now. They had moved to an apartment the last I heard.

LA: Yeah, I'm not sure either.

RW: But she would certainly be a fantastic source of information and just remembrance of things

LA: Well, over the course of all of your time in Dallas, can you think of any major turning points in the Dallas art scene?

RW: I think it was in the process when we moved there at the contemporary museum making a big difference, and the contemporary in the DMFA. They were really competitors because the DMFA still had the regional shows, and I'm not saying that in a disapproving way, but Jerry Bywaters is just a very big supporter of those painters who have taught at UT and all of those are—do you know I wrote a little book about other shows I think last year for Valley House Gallery?

LA: No, but I will look into it.

RW: I wrote a little essay, and then I also interviewed David Bates, because in later years Otis Dozier and Velma Dozier became like very supportive of some of the younger artists at that time. David Bates, Delabano, the guy who lives in Austin now whose father wrote for the Dallas Times Herald, The Texas Talk or something—Frank Tolbert Jr.!

[00:58:05]

LA: Right. They made the chili parlor, didn’t they?

RW: Pardon.

LA: Didn’t the Tolberts have a chili parlor in Dallas?

(Crosstalk 00:58:13 — 00:58:18)

LA: Didn’t the Tolberts have a chili parlor in Dallas?

RW: Yes. The father started the chili cook-off in Terlingua, Texas. And then I know his son Frank Jr. had a restaurant like that in Austin I believe. Frank is still around. He's in Kirk Hopper Gallery as well, I mean, Frank Jr. and he still comes around.

But anyway, Otis Dozier is very supportive of them. Otis also wanted to meet James Surls because he felt that affinity—which had a background at Surls had, which is more of east Texas bushwhacker type or something than an eastern establishment type. I think that can be said without fear, the accuracy with having known Surls well for a long time.

LA: Yeah.

RW: The essay and interview, I titled it because of something David said: A Transfer of Spirit. Otis wanted to like transfer his feelings and maybe ideas about art to younger generations I guess is a natural and, maybe, a teacherly instinct. He would have the younger artists over for dinner, and after Otis died, Velma put some things out on the table that belonged to Otis and invited the same group of artists, David and Delabano—I can’t think of the son’s first name.

LA: Martin?

RW: Martin Delabano. I should be able to because my sister was once married to Barney’s brother.

LA: Oh, really?

RW: We would have probably the same hometown from Denison, Texas. Anyway, Velma asked them over and told them if they saw anything that they liked, to pick it out, to just take it and Otis would certainly be happy. David said he was little embarrassed but also really happy to do this. He took a brush that had a little bit of paint dried, and he put it up on his studio wall, and it’s still there. And I’d asked David, you know, why did he have the brush up on his studio wall and he said, “Well there again, it’s kind of like a symbol of the transfer of spirit.” So there is that lineage going on.

LA: And these were your students, too, at SMU?

RW: Yes.

LA: Did you think about it in the same way? Were you as a teacher interested in passing along your spirit too?

RW: No. Well, I guess, yeah. I guess I’d never think of it that way but I wanted my students to find their own voice. That was very important. There is no easy route. You couldn’t just bypass things because that was too hard if you didn’t want to learn it or whatever, but you have to find your own voice.

You had to find something that was strong in yourself, something about yourself that was really important, and I guess that‘s when I have treated my own work and so in that respect, yes, I guess I was trying to. But I didn’t try to pass along any style. I've never really had one. But it was more like an attitude toward art making and attitude toward what art was, and it was a medium for a person using paint to speak, a language without words, beyond words.

So in that regard, I guess I did. I used to take people, my students, out to artists’ houses or studio all the time, and I asked him to be a guest in the classes, too, because I respected very much what he represented as an artist. It wasn’t an easy route. It was like the real McCoy, and then he and Velma both were just very curious and intellectually, they wanted to find out about everything that came across their paths and David was amazed that Velma Dozier was showing him some kind of a jewelry and she said, “Sandy made this for me.” And he found out that Sandy was Alexander Calder and that the Doziers have gotten around in their time.

Anyway, this is so complex culturally. I don’t know that it can all be put together but there were many strands there. I don’t know. I guess that was like a catalyst trying to make everyone aware of them and have them come together.

[01:04:16]

LA: Did you go to gallery shows a lot?

RW: No.

LA: No.

RW: Not very much.

LA: Where did you go to look at art?

RW: Well, in Dallas, around Dallas—Fort Worth, the possibilities were limited, but Jeanette and I often made trips in New York and we moved to England for—I got the first sabbatical leave than everyone here in the art department or in the arts at SMU, and we moved to England most of the year.

Well, I haunted the museums in Europe and in New York. It all depended, if I were really intensely focused on something in my work I didn’t want to see a lot of different kinds of paintings or works. But if it was a time when I was just kind of drifting and not sure what to do, I’d take on everything, and I've always read a lot about art and I love to read about artists and art and the history of art.

LA: All right. Good.

RW: I certainly appreciate your friend or the person you know who wanted to make a text that wasn’t quite so focused on Europe and United States. I feel like a product of American art, so that’s the thing I might naturally identify with, but I'm very interested and curious about other cultures, other times.

[01:06:11]

LA: Well, let me talk to Debbie and see if we can get a copy of the textbooks.

RW: Oh boy, that would be wonderful. I’d love it.

LA: Yeah, and maybe I can give her your number and she can talk to you about it.

RW: Or maybe she can get me a discount. Is it a big, big book?

LA: I'm trying to think. It’s several hundred pages because it’s like a typical survey course textbook for art history with a much different approach that what you would normally take it to be, but it’s pretty great and I’ve been talking to professors who have been using it this past semester and they said it’s interesting and it’s helping them to kind of think about things in a much different way too.

RW: You know something y’all mentioned; our sons are both poets, and one is married to an opera singer and the other is married to a poet, and our older son following Jeanette’s footsteps really has written and sometimes illustrated children’s books and recently he’s been very, very successful and in June of this year, the Dallas Museum was doing some kind of convention on children’s books.

LA: Oh, yeah. I think I saw an email about that.

RW: Our son will be a guest there, and I don’t think they know that he grew up in Dallas.

LA: Well, they should know that.

RW: Jonah Winter, and I think the two books that they’re focusing on is one this year called something like Just Behave Yourself, Mr. Picasso [Laughter] and the earlier one is about Frida Kahlo.

[01:08:03]

LA: Here we go. He sent us an email and Jonah Winter’s Just Behave, Pablo Picasso!

RW: What is it? Just Behave—

LA: Just Behave, Pablo Picasso!

RW: He also did, and I'm going to suggest that he mentioned this for two years. He did a book last year about my childhood, it’s called Born and Bred in the Great Depression, which is a children’s book. And the woman’s name I think is Kimberly Root. Kimberly Bulcken Root illustrated it, and she did a beautiful job. I hope he mentions that because you guys have a few of them—two or three things in your collection, and no one might associate Jonah with Dallas and all of that.

LA: Right, with you. Well, they should. I’ll mention that to somebody maybe because he is going to be talking—

RW: During the lunch hour—

LA: — that looks like he’ll be doing story telling in the galleries and then he has a presentation and then a book signing at four o’clock.

RW: Ah, well, Jonah is a fantastic entertainer. I don’t know who will be in the audience but he is just wonderful. I mean he’s been in plays and he has done a lot of different things. He has very diverse sort of talents. When I've seen him with children or talking to adults about children’s books, he really puts on a show.

LA: Well, that’s really neat. I’ll have to—

RW: I don’t have any way to predict what that show will be as I’ve never been able to predict what Jonah will do. But he’s just a very creative person. I think you all will enjoy or maybe be annoyed but I don’t know. We’ll see, but I hope he mentions the Born and Bred in the Great Depression.

[01:10:14]

LA: Yeah, I’m sure. That’s great! What a nice connection!

RW: Well, I'm very pleased with our sons, and Jeanette has done over 60 books. That’s quite a number, I think.

LA: Oh my gosh, yeah! Does she write as well as—

RW: She does! She didn’t for many, many books but she really—everyone got tired of doing out of people stories. The advance and royalties are a lot bigger if she did the writing and the illustrating. So it’s just commercially more interesting to do it that way.

Jeanette’s done some very well-received books. She did one called The Librarian of Basra, about a librarian in Basra who saved most of the books and these weren’t paperback. These were, like, ancient columns in that library hiding them in the basements of various friends and the library was bombed, but she saved 70 percent of the books. That got Jeanette and that librarian who visit to Parma for a book thing, and I tagged along as a—whatever you want to call it—“The Not-Royal Consort!”

But anyway, that’s enough for my family history. Our younger son has a small—he and his wife have a small press called Solid Objects in New York. I'm very, very proud of the works that they’ve published and they’re both poets.

[01:12:00]

LA: Did your kids—were they proud to think of you as an artist? I bet that you were really neat to have an artist as a parent. Did they understand that when they are young?

RW: I think it might have confused Jonah that I had such a different life from the others. Jeanette and I were very different from a lot of the other kids’ parents in Highland Park and University Park. But I think it’s dull. They are very, very proud if it and Jonah has said this. Max was so young when this happened, but Jonah said he is so happy that we moved to Europe at that time and we just had all that time to explore things and go to Paris and drive through Germany and the Scandinavian countries. This really meant as an adult, it means a lot that he did it.

LA: Yeah. I bet.

RW: Max remembers very little—the only thing our younger son remembers is in our little town in England in Wiltshire: there was a rubber ball factory. And one day when we were in that little town, some of the balls escaped from the factory and they were all bouncing down a hill. I think that’s his memory of Europe.

LA: That would capture any child’s imagination!

RW: I guess it would. Just the sight of it, it’s fixed.

Well, if you have more questions I’ll keep talking.

LA: No, I think we’ve covered so much within the past two interviews and I'm just really thankful that you are willing to share so much information with me today.

[01:14:07]

RW: Well, I'm just happy to do it. You know, the poet, Jane Valentine interviewed me for a catalogue. That’s going to be at the MAC show in September [RW: Lost Highway—A Painter’s Journey]. In the interview, I quoted something James Surls, you know James, had once said and used this quote. Well, he wrote this and I used this quote, “Thank you art. I love you.” And I thought that was so touching and I never even thought of coming at it from that direction, but it’s like your life. Your work is your life, and I hope I have a little more of it.

LA: I do too. Well, I'm going to keep an eye out when your show opens so I can be sure to be there to meet you.

RW: Oh yeah, please. I’ll make sure you’ll find out.

LA: Okay.

RW: And if you do think of calling Quin Mathews, it would probably be helpful.

LA: I will. That’s a great suggestion, and I’ll give him a call this afternoon.

RW: Thank you, Leigh. It’s been quite a pleasure.

LA: Thank you, Roger. Bye!

RW: Bye!

[01:15:42]

Ruth Wiseman, Michael Tichansky, and Judith Williams

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Ruth Wiseman is the former owner of Ruth Wiseman Gallery (1976–1992) and currently a docent at the Dallas Museum of Art.

Michael Tichansky is an artist who has been active in the Dallas art community since the early 1970s.

Judith Williams is an artist who has been active in the Dallas art community since the early 1970s.

Interviewee: Ruth Wiseman, Michael Tichansky, and Judith Williams
Interviewer: Leigh Arnold
Date: December 10, 2011
Location: Tichansky and Williams Residence, Dallas, Texas

500X Gallery Records

Collection Overview

Title: 500X Gallery Records
Creator: Garrett, Randall (compiler)
Dates: 1977–1996
Collection ID: SC–003
Extent: 0.5 linear feet
Language: English
Arrangement: Chronological
Access/Use Restrictions: No restrictions on access or use.
Publication: Publication must be approved by 500X Board of Directors.

Contact Archivist for more information.

Preferred Citation: 500X Gallery records, SC–003, Dallas Museum of Art Archives, Texas

Repository: Dallas Museum of Art Archives, 1717 N. Harwood Street, Dallas, Texas 75201

Historical Note: The 500X Gallery, established in 1978, is an alternative space with a decided interest in experimental possibilities of the visual arts. Over the years the gallery established itself as one of the most artistically courageous spaces available. 500X has provided a starting point for many, as well as an opportunity for artists to present their ideas uninhibited by traditional standards.

The 500X Gallery is a cooperative organization, with new members selected democratically by the current members. (Thank-you statement, 1998)

Scope and Content Note: The 500X Gallery records are a history compiled by Randall Garrett, 500X Gallery public relations officer between 1993 and 1995. The records are arranged chronologically with divisions for each year. Types of materials include gallery mailings, press releases, photographs, and news clippings.

Administrative Information

Acquisition: Donated by Randall Garrett on October 15, 2001

Processed by: Archives staff, 2001–2002; Hillary Bober, February 2010

Processing Note: The history was arranged in five three-ring binders. The material was removed from the binders, page sleeves, and black paper backing and rehoused in archival sleeves and folders in February 2010.

Box and Folder List

Box 1

Folder 1: History of 500X Gallery—Volume 1: 1977–1979

Folder 2: 1977

Folder 3: 1978

Folder 4: 1979

Folder 5: History of 500X Gallery—Volume 2: 1980–1981

Folder 6: 1980

Folder 7: 1981

Folder 8: History of 500X Gallery—Volume 3: 1982–1988

Folder 9: 1982

Folder 10: 1983

Folder 11: 1984

Folder 12: 1985–1987

Folder 13: 1988

Folder 14: History of 500X Gallery—Volume 4: 1989–1993

Folder 15: 1989

Folder 16: 1990

Folder 17: 1991

Folder 18: 1992

Folder 19: 1993

Folder 20: History of 500X Gallery—Volume 5: 1994–1996

Folder 21: 1994

Folder 22: 1995

Folder 23: 1996

Collection Overview

Title: DW Gallery Records
Creator: Block, Diana, Linda Samuels, and gallery staff
Dates: 1977–1988 (bulk 1981–1988)
Collection ID: SC–001
Extent: 1.0 linear feet
Language: English

Arrangement: Records are arranged in three series: Series 1. Administration; Series 2. Artist Files; Series 3. Artifacts.

Access/Use Restrictions: Restricted access to artist resumes that contain social security numbers. See Archivist for viewing procedures. No other restrictions on access or use.

Preferred Citation: DW Gallery records, SC–001, Dallas Museum of Art Archives, Texas

Repository: Dallas Museum of Art Archives, 1717 N. Harwood Street, Dallas, Texas 75201

Historical Note:

Along with several other women, Linda Samuels (formerly Linda Surls) started the DW Gallery (DWG) as a small women's co-op at McKinney and Hall streets in 1975. In the first few years, the gallery was staffed by member artists, each of whom worked three days a month and paid a $33 monthly fee toward overhead costs. Throughout its 13-year history, the gallery developed a reputation for recognizing raw talent and eventually became one of the nation's most respected showcases for contemporary regional artists. DWG was the first to exhibit several "new" artists who are nationally recognized today, including Lee N. Smith, David Bates, and Clyde Connell. The gallery was also successful at promoting up-and-coming Dallas artists such as David McManaway, John Hernandez, and Sam Gummelt. In 1978, the gallery was incorporated after receiving backing from founding member Lou Alpert (formerly Frederickson). By 1980, when director Linda Samuels moved to California, the gallery had expanded twice. In 1981, Diana Block succeeded Samuels as DWG director. Under Block, the gallery continued its successful theme exhibits, including a popular Book/Art exhibition. In 1983, DWG expanded to a new space on Main Street in Deep Ellum and opened a bookstore in a renovated warehouse.

In 1986, when the gallery again needed to expand, it moved to new space on Canton and Oakland Streets rented from John Tatum, Dallas developer and major stockholder in DWG. After a dispute over the lease between Tatum and another major stockholder, Lou Alpert, the gallery closed in September 1988. By this time, its operating budget had increased from $24,000 to $100,000 since 1981, with investors contributing less than 25 percent of the annual budget. The closing exhibition, The Last Show, was guest-curated by founding member Linda Samuel. It featured recent works by each of the 28 artists associated with the gallery over the past year. The gallery received postcard tributes from more than 80 artists who had exhibited there through the years, including Bob Wade, Peter Julian, Gilda Pervin, James Surls, Benito Huerta, Dan Rizzie, Danny Williams, Bill Komodore, and Frank Tolbert.

Scope and Content Note:

The bulk of the records cover Diana Block's tenure as DWG director (1981–1988) until the gallery's closing in 1988. Types of records include correspondence, notes, financial documents, certificates, legal papers, exhibition schedules, resumes, policies, press releases, mailing lists, photographs, scrapbook material, creative works artifacts, and ephemera.

The records of the DW Gallery are organized into three series: Series 1. Administration; Series 2. Artist Files; Series 3. Artifacts.

Administrative Information

Acquisition: Donated by Diana Block on May 5, 2000. Prior to acquisition the records of the DW Gallery were in the possession of Diana Block, former gallery director, from its closing in 1988 to 2000.
Processed by: Sammie Morris

Box and Folder List

Box 1: Administration

Folder 1: Director—Diana Block Correspondence, 1981–1988

Folder 2: Director—Diana Block Notes, 1984 and n.d.

Folder 3: Assistant Director—Judy Cohen Correspondence and Budget, 1985–1988 and n.d.

Folder 4: Assistant Director—Judy Cohen, DWG Invitations: Orders and Proofs, 1983–1988

Folder 5: Assistant Director—Judy Cohen, DWG Invitations, 1983–1988

Folder 6: Assistant Director—David Bates Print, 1982, 1988

Folder 7: Assistant Director—David Bates—Resale/Bates

Folder 8: Assistant Director—Billy Hassell Prints, 1987–1988

Folder 9: Assistant Director—Staff Duties

Folder 10: Board of Directors—Artists Represented, n.d.

Folder 11: Board of Directors—DWG Board Resignations, 1984–1985

Folder 12: Board of Directors—Ellen Soderquist, DW Gallery Stock Certificate, 1982

Folder 13: Board of Directors—Lou Alpert (Alice Louise Alpert), 1987–1988

Folder 14: Policies—General Policies, n.d.

Folder 15: Policies—DWG Layaway Policy, Blank Forms, n.d.

Folder 16: Legal—Consignment Contracts with Artists, 1981–1983

Folder 17: Legal—Art Commission Agreements, 1986–1988

Folder 18: Legal—DW Contracts/Legal, 1982–1984, n.d.

Folder 19: Legal—Property Return, n.d.

Folder 20: Legal—Clients/Consultants/Corporate, 1988, n.d.

Folder 21: Exhibitions—Book/Art, Curated by Diana Block, 1983

Folder 22: Exhibitions—Exhibition Schedules, 1982–1988

Folder 23: Miscellaneous Press and Press Release List, 1984–1985, 1987, n.d.

Folder 24: Parties/Artists, n.d.

Folder 25: Parties/Artists—Patricia Forrest Gallery Talk, 1980, 1986

Folder 26: Resale/Tax Exemption Certificates, 1977–1988

Folder 27: Notes/Phone Log, 1987

Folder 28: Shipping Information, 1983–1988, n.d.

Folder 29: Card File System

Box 2: Administration/Artist Files

Folder 1: Ephemera—Note Cards and Exhibition Advertising Cards

Folder 2: D.A.D.A. (Dallas Art Dealers Association)

Folder 3: Raffaele Martini Paper on Art Criticism, 1983

Folder 4: Artist Files—Anderson, David

Folder 5: Artist Files—Bagley, Frances, and James Baker

Folder 6: Artist Files—Beeman, Malinda

Folder 7: Artist Files—Chambers, Nancy

Folder 8: Artist File—Cohn, Julie, 1986

Folder 9: Artist File—Dowell, James

Folder 10: Artist Files—Finnell, Linda

Folder 11: Artist Files—Grant, Susan Kae

Folder 12: Artist Files—Harris, Tracy

Folder 13: Artist Files—Maroney, Dalton

Folder 14: Artist Files—Monroe, Gary

Folder 15: Artist Files—Smith, Lee N. III, Scrapbook Material

Folder 16: Artist Files—Smith, Lee N. III, Photos

Folder 17: Artist Files—Smith, Lee N. III, NEA and Smith Press, 1987–1988

Folder 18: Artist Files—Smith, Lee N. III, Paris, 1988

Folder 19: Artist Files—Smith, Lee N. III, Ephemera and Miscellaneous

Folder 20: Artist Files—Swenson-Roberts, Carroll

Folder 21: Artist Files—Warner, Mary (1 of 2)

Folder 22: Artist Files—Warner, Mary (2 of 2)

Folder 23: Artist Files—Washmon, Gary, and Laurie Weller

Folder 24: Artist Files—Wilder, Steve

Folder 25: Artist Files—Various Artist Files and Artist Resumes, n.d. (Carolyn Louise DeBus, Martin Delabano, David Bryan Erwin, Vincent Falsetta, Patrick R. Faulhaber, Patricia Forrest, Linnea Glatt, Billy Hassell, John Hernandez, Emily Jennings, Marilyn Jolly, Tom Kraa, Susan Magilow, Heather Marcus, Celia Muñoz, Susie Phillips, John Pomara, Lela Helen Rose, Randy Twaddle, Jean Wetta)

Box 3: Artifacts

Item 1: DW Gallery T-Shirt, blue

Item 2: DW Gallery T-Shirt, Pink

Item 3: Bandana Invitation, Fashion Play: A Performance by C. Kenneth Havis

Item 4: Final Opening Letterhead Design, pencil design on tissue, mounted on foam core

Paul Rogers Harris Papers

Collection Overview

Title: Paul Rogers Harris Papers
Creator: Harris, Paul Rogers
Dates: 1959–2001
Collection ID: SC–004
Extent: 6.3 linear feet
Language: English

Arrangement: Materials are arranged in seven series: Series 1. Claes Oldenburg; Series 2. Gateway Gallery (DMA); Series 3. Modern Dallas Art; Series 4. Independent Curator; Series 5: Dallas Love Field Parking Garage Expansion Public Art Project Selection Committee; Series 6. Dallas Art Publications; Series 7. Audio Recordings.

Access/Use Restrictions: Records in Series 4. Independent Curator related to the exhibition One i at a Time are unprocessed and restricted for preservation reasons. No other restrictions on access or use.

Preferred Citation: Paul Rogers Harris papers, SC–004, Dallas Museum of Art Archives, Texas

Repository: Dallas Museum of Art Archives, 1717 N. Harwood Street, Dallas, Texas 75201

Biographical Note:

Paul Rogers Harris was born in Dallas, Texas, in 1933. He graduated from the North Texas State College (now University of North Texas) in Denton, Texas, in 1954 with a major in art and a minor in education. He taught at the elementary and high school levels from 1954 to 1960. From 1960 to 1965 Harris was the art director of the Dallas Independent School District’s educational television program on KERA-TV, the Dallas PBS affiliate. During this time, Harris also established and supervised the Children’s House at the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts, an experimental program for teaching art to children ages 5–12.

In 1965, Harris moved to New York City to undertake graduate work at New York University. While in New York, he also worked in the education department of the Museum of Modern Art as a lecturer (1966–1968) and coordinator of educational services (1968–1970). While at MoMA, Harris also coordinated Claes Oldenburg’s Documents of the Ray Gun Theater in conjunction with Oldenburg’s solo exhibition at the museum in 1969.

Harris returned to Dallas in 1970 to be the head of the Department of Art Education at Southern Methodist University, a position he held until 1974 when he became director of the Art Center in Waco, Texas. He was curator of 95 exhibitions in his 12-year tenure. He also began his career as an independent curator during this time, organizing the inaugural exhibition at the Dallas Museum of Art’s new education space, Gateway Gallery, in 1984. Harris left Waco in 1986 to become director of the Craft Guild of Dallas, where he remained until 1988.

Harris transitioned to an independent curator, establishing Paul Rogers Harris Exhibitions in 1988. He organized numerous exhibitions at Dallas-area galleries. Highlights include The Texas Printmakers, 1940–1965 at the Meadows Museum, Southern Methodist University, in 1990; and Breaking into the Mainstream: Texas African American Artists at the Irving Art Center in 1996. Harris was also a consignment dealer and executor of the estates of two Dallas-area artists, Barbara Maples and Coreen Spellman.

Paul Rogers Harris is also an artist who designed two holiday cards for MoMA in 1968 and 1971 and exhibits work in competition exhibitions and local galleries.

Scope and Content Note:

The Paul Rogers Harris Papers contain records on a wide variety of projects, from his graduate work at New York University, to his work with Claes Oldenburg, to his work as an independent curator in a number of capacities: curator, consignment dealer, and estate executor. Materials date between 1959 and 2001. Types of materials include correspondence, notes, research material, ephemera, exhibition information for the gallery Modern Dallas Art, exhibition records, artist slides, consignment sales records, publications, and estate dispersal records. The materials have been arranged in seven series: Series 1. Claes Oldenburg; Series 2. Gateway Gallery (DMA); Series 3. Modern Dallas Art; Series 4. Independent Curator; Series 5: Dallas Love Field Parking Garage Expansion Public Art Project Selection Committee; Series 6. Dallas Art Publications; Series 7. Audio Recordings. Additional information on the contents of each series can be found in the Series Descriptions section.

Administrative Information

Acquisition: Donated by Paul Rogers Harris on July 24, 2003.

Processed by: Archives staff

Accruals: May 17, 2012. January 16, 2013: Additional materials on the Coreen Mary Spellman Estate distribution and The Texas Printmakers exhibition.

Processing Note: Accruals incorporated into existing arrangement by Hillary Bober at the time of acquisition.

Series Descriptions

Series 1: Claes Oldenburg, 1955–1999

This series consists of material on Claes Oldenburg, with the majority of the material focused on documenting his happenings throughout the country (New York, Chicago, San Francisco). Included are news clippings about the happenings and several reviews of Oldenburg's work. There are also records pertaining to the Oldenburg poster exhibition Harris curated at the Waco Art Center.

Series 2: Gateway Gallery (DMA), 1983–1985

Paul Rogers Harris was the guest curator for the opening exhibition in the Gateway Gallery, the new education center of the Dallas Museum of Art.

Series 3: Modern Dallas Art, 1986–1994

This series contains the records of exhibitions organized by the gallery Modern Dallas Art. Types of records for exhibitions may include postcard mailing, news release, artist biography/artist statement, exhibition checklist/statement, and news clippings. The series also contains general information about the gallery and the memorial for Glenn Lane, its founder.

Series 4: Independent Curator

This series includes correspondence; lecture notes; records of exhibitions that Harris guest-curated; consignments; and executor duties.

Series 5: Dallas Love Field Parking Garage Expansion Public Art Project Selection Committee, 2001

Harris was a member of the selection committee for the public art project. Records include correspondence and artist proposals.

Series 6: Dallas Art Publications, 1979–1994

Publications focused on Dallas artists, art galleries, and events, collected by Harris.

Series 7: Audio Recordings

Audio recordings of Harris lectures and interviews Harris conducted with Dallas-area artists.

Box and Folder List

Series 1: Claes Oldenburg

Box 1

Folder 1: Documents of the Ray Gun Theater—MoMA Correspondence, 1969–1971 (Exhibition, films, programs, expenses)

Folder 2: Documents of the Ray Gun Theater—MoMA Exhibition, Films, Program Descriptions, 1969

Folder 3: Documents of the Ray Gun Theater—MoMA Press Releases, 1969 (Exhibition and films)

Folder 4: Documents of the Ray Gun Theater—MoMA, 1969 (Notes on photographs, wall label text, Oldenburg chronology)

Folder 5: Documents of the Ray Gun Theater—Barbara Rose lecture, “Claes Oldenburg: Traditional Revolutionary," MoMA, 1969

Folder 6: Documents of the Ray Gun Theater—Ellen Johnson lecture, MoMA (cancelled), 1969

Folder 7: Documents of the Ray Gun Theater—List of Happenings and Films for Oldenburg Programs, 1969 (Happenings and Oldenburg presentation scripts)

Folder 8: Documents of the Ray Gun Theater—Paul Harris Notes and Layout for Oldenburg Exhibit, Films, and Programs, 1969

Folder 9: Documents of the Ray Gun Theater—MoMA exhibition press, 1969

Folder 10: Documents of the Ray Gun Theater—MoMA Members Newsletter, Fall 1969 (Contains article on Oldenburg)

Folder 11: Oldenburg's “The Geometric Mouse”—To announce the Oldenburg exhibition at MoMA, 1969

Folder 12: Claes Oldenburg—Selected Posters and Announcements, TAC (The Art Center), Waco, Texas, 1959–1985 (Press, correspondence, notes, budget)

Folder 13: Oldenburg Exhibition of Posters at TAC (The Art Center), Waco, Texas, 1985–1991 (Checklists, installation views)

Folder 14: Oldenburg: Catalogue, TAC (The Art Center), Waco, Texas, 1985 (Correspondence, notes)

Box 2

Folder 1: Oldenburg: Notes for Essay and Talk, 1969–1985 and n.d. (Articles and information)

Folder 2: Jim Dine/Oldenburg—Photocopies of Mimeographed Books, n.d.

Folder 3: Oldenburg—Artist Statement, "Red Tights," MoMA, n.d.

Folder 4: Oldenburg—Interviews, 1963–1977

Folder 5: Claes Oldenburg's Happenings, 1960–1969 and n.d. (Scripts and press)

Folder 6: Oldenburg—Chronology and Biography, Sidney Janis Gallery, New York, 1967

Folder 7: MoCA Chicago News Release, "’Pop Art’" Pops Up as ‘Pop Tart,’" n.d.

Folder 8: Oldenburg—Articles/press, 1959–1967

Folder 9: ArtNews cover depicting Oldenburg's 1936 blue Chrysler model, February 1966

Folder 10: Oldenburg—Articles/press, 1968–1978

Folder 11: Oldenburg—Articles/press, 1982–1999 and n.d.

Folder 12: "Claes Oldenburg: Adult-Child Artist," paper for NYU Modern Art Seminar, Fall 1965

Folder 13: Notes made at Oldenburg's studio, fall 1965–spring 1966 (Original notes and typed transcript of notes)

Box 3

Folder 1: "Claes Oldenburg: Selected Posters and Announcements, 1959–1985," dated, The Art Center, Waco, Texas, 1985 (Black-and-white object photos)

Folder 2: "Claes Oldenburg: Selected Posters and Announcements, 1959–1985," undated, The Art Center, Waco, Texas, 1985 (Black-and-white object photos)

Folder 3: Claes Oldenburg Films

Series 2: Gateway Gallery (DMA), 1983–1985

Box 4: Gateway Gallery

Folder 1: DMFA Children's Wing Research Committee/Junior League Education Committee, 1983–1984

Folder 2: DMA Education Wing Plan, 1983–1984

Folder 3: Correspondence—Roberta Matthews (Associate Curator of Education), April—October 1983

Folder 4: Gateway Gallery Project, Schedule

Folder 5: Exhibition Budget, Bills

Folder 6: Exhibition Construction Agreements

Folder 7: Exhibition Plans, Drawings, Installation

Folder 8: Exhibition Checklists

Folder 9: Exhibition Label Copy

Folder 10: Exhibition Loan Forms; Lender and Registrar Correspondence

Folder 11: Exhibition Section—Orientation Area (Conversation with lender forms, checklist)

Folder 12: Exhibition Section—Slide Show

Folder 13: Exhibition Section—Participation Area (Text drafts, conversation with lender forms, checklist, games, design and installation)

Folder 14: Exhibition Section—Viewing Area (Checklist)

Folder 15: Exhibition Section—Line (Conversation with lender forms)

Folder 16: Exhibition Section—Form (Conversation with lender forms)

Folder 17: Exhibition Section—Color (Conversation with lender forms)

Folder 18: Exhibition Section—Texture (Conversation with lender forms)

Folder 19: Artist Commissions—James [Jack] Boynton

Folder 20: Artist Commissions—David McManaway

Folder 21: Line, Form, Color and Texture catalogue (Introduction, description, checklist)

Box 5: Gateway Gallery

Folder 1: "The Gateway Gallery Guide to the Elements of Art"

Folder 2: Gateway Gallery Programs Brochure; Volunteer Brochure

Folder 3: Docent Guide

Folder 4: Opening Activities

Folder 5: DMA and Gateway Gallery Opening Preview Invitations

Folder 6: Promotion and Press Coverage of Gateway Gallery Opening

Folder 7: DMA Opening Publicity and Press Coverage

Folder 8: Letters of Congratulations and Thanks

Folder 9: Early Notes, To-Do Lists

Folder 10: Reference Sources

Folder 11: Children's Gallery Research

Folder 12: Children's Gallery Research—Capital Children's Museum/National Learning Center

Folder 13: Children's Gallery Research—Children's Museum, Boston

Folder 14: Children's Gallery Research—High Museum of Art, Atlanta

Folder 15: Children's Gallery Research—Institute for the Arts, Rice University, Houston

Folder 16: Children's Gallery Research—Kaleidoscope

Folder 17: National Art Education Association Presentation by Bonnie Lewis, Museum Learning Associates—"Orientation Galleries: Do They Work?" 1987 (Request for information to include in presentation; follow-up question from attendee)

Series 3: Modern Dallas Art, 1986–1994

Box 6: Modern Dallas Art/Independent Curator

Folder 1: Modern Dallas Art, 1986–1994

Folder 2: Photographs

Folder 3: Glenn Lane (Modern Dallas Art director and co-owner), 1994

Folder 4: Exhibition Schedule, 1986–1990

Folder 5: Bodyscapes: Rhae Burden, December 13, 1986–January 1987

Folder 6: Bon Voyage: Sheila Sloan, January 31–March 7, 1987

Folder 7: Gesturing: Tony Holman, March 14–April 30, 1987

Folder 8: Gwen Norsworthy: Recent Paintings, May 6–June 18, 1987

Folder 9: Dallas Works by a Moscow Artist: Olya Cherentsova-Collins, June 24–July 30, 1987

Folder 10: Biotechnic Speculations: Bob Nunn, September 12–October 15, 1987

Folder 11: Timepiece Series: Meg Loomis, October 17–November 21, 1987

Folder 12: The Best of Modern Dallas Art: Cherentsova-Collins, Holman, Loomis, Norsworthy, Nunn, Sloan, November 21, 1987–January 5, 1988

Folder 13: Traveling Trophy Show: Tracy Hicks, January 9–February 13, 1988

Folder 14: The Dallas Invitational: Evelyn Baldwin, Lynne Dees, Jean Fo, Norman Kary, Connie Smart, February 13–April 1988

Folder 15: Abstract Symmetries: Charlene Rathburn, April 2–May 14, 1988

Folder 16: Recent Works: Tony Holman, May 21–July 1, 1988

Folder 17: New Constructivism: Meg Loomis, Charlene Rathburn, George Moseley, Norman Kary, July 9–August 6, 1988

Folder 18: Attune Your Seeing: Norman Kary, September 10–October 8, 1988

Folder 19: Gwen Norsworthy: 25 Years, October 15–November 12, 1988

Folder 20: The Best of Modern Dallas Art: Cherentsova-Collins, Holman, Kary, Loomis, Norsworthy, Nunn, Rathburn, Sloan, November 19, 1988–January 14, 1989 (Part 1: Edgefield. Part 2: McKinney—December 15, 1987–January 14, 1988)

Folder 21: Dennis Doran: New Modernism, January 28–March 18, 1989

Folder 22: Adrienne T. Rosenberg: The Persephone Series, April 1–May 6, 1989

Folder 23: Drawings: Norsworthy, Rathburn, Holman, Doran, Nunn, Cherentsova-Collins, Kary, Manning, May 27–June 10, 1989

Folder 24: Charlene Rathburn: Paintings—Encaustic on Canvas, June 17–July 29, 1989

Folder 25: Artists of Oak Cliff, Texas: Chambers, Delabano, Hassell, Holman, Metz, Sellars, September 9–October 7, 1989

Folder 26: Olya Cherentsova-Collins: The House, October 14–November 18, 1989

Folder 27: The Best of Modern Dallas Art: Cherentsova-Collins, Holman, Rathburn, Kary, Doran, Rosenberg, Loomis, Norsworthy, Nunn, Wright, December 2, 1989–January 20, 1990

Folder 28: Norman Kary: Confiscated Images, January 27–March 3, 1990

Folder 29: Anthony Wright: Sculpture and Drawings March 17–April 14, 1990; Texas Sculpture: Sacred Forms: Loomis, Kracke, Rathburn, Wright (at Mountain View College), March 17–April 6, 1990

Folder 30: Earth After Man: Bob Nunn, April 14–May 26, 1990

Folder 31: A Show of Hands: Larry Felty, June 2–July 7, 1990

Folder 32: Celia Munoz, September 16–October 6, 1990

Folder 33: Patricia Forrest—Collages; Martin Delabano—Drawings; Nancy Chambers—Constructions, October 12–November 9, 1990

Folder 34: Rooted in Landscape: Meg Loomis, Olya Cherentsova-Collins, Larry Felty, Bob Nunn, Bill Thompson, Mary Hatch, Anthony Wright, November 17–December 29, 1990

Folder 35: Glenn Lane: Remembering (Memorial Exhibition and AIDS Quilt), 1994 (Includes announcement, catalogue, object images [slides], installation images [slides], photo of AIDS quilt, review

Box 12: Oversize

Item 1: Modern Dallas Art scrapbook (News clippings of gallery and its exhibitions, 1986–1990)

Series 4: Independent Curator

Box 6: Modern Dallas Art/Independent Curator

Folder 36: Exhibition—Breaking into the Mainstream: Texas African-American Artists catalogue, May 18–June 16, 1996, Irving Art Center

Folder 37: Exhibition—Breaking into the Mainstream: Texas African-American Artists Artists A–L

Folder 38: Exhibition—Breaking into the Mainstream: Texas African-American Artists Artists M–W

Box 7: Independent Curator

Folder 1: Center for Visual Communications/Allen Street Gallery, 1980–1983

Folder 2: Correspondence—500X Gallery, 1981

Folder 3: Correspondence—Esta Nesbitt, artist

Folder 4: Correspondence—Janet [no last name, possibly Kutner], 1961

Folder 5: Alexander Calder Lecture, n.d. (List of slides with notes)

Folder 6: Waco Tribune Herald article, February 22, 1981

Folder 7: Exhibition—Zoomorphism (Dallas Zoo) Checklist

Folder 8: Exhibition—Zoomorphism (Dallas Zoo) Artist Biographies

Barsamian, Robert; Carter, Dwayne; Cruz, Steve; Delabano, Martin; Fitzgerald, Barnaby; Hassell, Billy; Hernandez, John; Huerta, Benito; Huerta, Leticia; Kary, Norman; Komodore, Bill; McManaway, David; Meza, Rosemary; Munguia, Roberto; Muñoz, Celia; Nicosia, Nic; Palmer, Patrick; Rosenberg, Adrienne; Thompson, Bill; Vernon, Mary

Folder 9: Consignments—IN

Folder 10: Consignments—OUT

Box 8: Independent Curator—Spellman Estate

Folder 1: Coreen Spellman Estate—Artwork Inventory Lists

Folder 2: Coreen Spellman Estate—Object Slides, 1994

Folder 3: Coreen Spellman Estate—Spellman Print Sales, Inventory, Etc.

Folder 4: Coreen Spellman Estate—Coreen Mary Spellman: Stimulus for Art to the Southwest, by Jackie MacLelland, Women's Caucus for Art, March 1991

Folder 5: Coreen Spellman Estate—Spellman Biographical (Coreen Mary and Mick)

Folder 6: Coreen Spellman Estate—Stashka Art Conservation

Folder 7: Coreen Spellman Estate—Correspondence—Baker, Professor James Graham

Folder 8: Coreen Spellman Estate—Correspondence—Book Donation

Folder 9: Coreen Spellman Estate—Correspondence—Dallas Museum of Art (Includes correspondence, copies of deeds of gift, and lists of donated objects)

Folder 10: Coreen Spellman Estate—Correspondence—Forney, City of (Includes Forney Ex-Student Association and Holy Trinity Episcopal Church; correspondence, gift and loan agreements, and news clippings)

Folder 11: Coreen Spellman Estate—Correspondence—Gene Autry Western Heritage Museum (Exhibition loan)

Folder 12: Coreen Spellman Estate—Correspondence—Panhandle-Plains Historical Museum (Includes correspondence, copies of deeds of gift, and lists of donated objects)

Folder 13: Coreen Spellman Estate—Correspondence—Spellman, Mick (Includes correspondence, invoices, and statements)

Folder 14: Coreen Spellman Estate—Correspondence—Texas Woman's University (TWU)

Folder 15: Coreen Spellman Estate—Correspondence—Tyler Museum of Art (Includes correspondence, copies of deeds of gift, and lists of donated objects)

Folder 16: Coreen Spellman Estate—Notes

Box 12: Oversize

Item 3: Polaroid of Paul Rogers Harris at Dallas Museum of Fine Arts Groundbreaking, November 15, 1980 (Polaroid depicts Harris in a hardhat with shovel. Mounted in plastic frame with event and date printed on frame.)

Box 13: Independent Curator (One i at a Time), 1970–1971

Joint exhibition between the DMA and the Pollock Galleries at Southern Methodist University (SMU). Records consist of news clippings about the exhibition, installation notes, and loan forms and correspondence organized by artist or lender. March 20–April 25, 1971

Box 14: Independent Curator—The Texas Printmakers (exhibition)

Folder 1: Exhibition—Material Connections: Contemporary Art Quilts/Fabric Concerns: The Quilt Renewed—Exhibition handbook, April 14–May 31, 1991

Artists: Sue Benner, Kathy Casey, Helen Giddens, Barbara Oliver Hatrman, Gabrielle Swain

Folder 2: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Exhibition Handbook, August 23–September 30, 1990 (SMU Meadows Museum)

Folder 3: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Catalogue and Secondary Publication, The Women Who Challenged: Interviews with Nine Artists

Includes artist resumes: Evelyn Lucile Beard, Frances Jane Bishop, Edith M. Brisac, Grace Adell Crockett, Lia Cuilty, Mary Cranfill Curtis, Lorene David, Marie Delleney, Mary Doyle, Constance Forsyth, Ann Cushing Gantz (Mrs. Everett E. Gantz Jr.), Lura Ann Taylor Hedrick, Veronica Helfensteller (Mrs. Haakon Ogle Helfensteller), Bess Bigham Hubbard (Mrs. Chester A. Hubbard), Lucille Jefferies, Dorothy Krueger, Lucile Land Lacy (Mrs. Floyd Lacy), Stella LaMond, Bertha Landers, Mary Lightfoot, Verda Ligon, Barbara Lucile Maples, Florence Elliott White McClung (Mrs. Rufus A. McClung), Hazel McGraw (Mrs. Fulton McGraw), Blanche McVeigh, Daga Ramsey (Mrs. Jack Ramsey), Emily Rutland, Coreen Mary Spellman, Janet Turner, Jean Cullum Turner (Mrs. William E. Turner), Elizabeth Walmsley (Mrs. Donald Walmsley), Vera Wise, Camille Wunch (Mrs. Raymond Wunch)

Folder 4: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Exhibition Checklist

Folder 5: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Exhibition Loans

Folder 6: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Exhibition Installation, gallery floor plan

Folder 7: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Exhibition Catalogue Essay

Folder 8: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Exhibition Invitation List

Folder 9: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Exhibition Publicity

Folder 10: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Exhibition Gallery Talk

Folder 11: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Exhibition Tour

Folder 12: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Exhibition Images, objects, installation, opening event (Slides)

Folder 13: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Correspondence—The Meadows Museum

Folder 14: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Correspondence—Meadows Museum, notes and drafts

Folder 15: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Correspondence—David Farmer, SMU

Folder 16: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Correspondence—Sales, prints, and secondary publication

Box 15: Independent Curator—The Texas Printmakers (exhibition)

Folder 1: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—Texas Printmakers/Printmakers Guild Members

Folder 2: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—Biographical, general

Folder 3: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—Printmakers Guild Membership Lists with Lists of Prints in Portfolios

Folder 4: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—Texas Printmakers/Printmakers Guild Artist Resumes (Compiled by Paul Rogers Harris, June 1990)

Folder 5: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—Texas Printmakers Printed Material

Folder 6: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—Texas Printmakers/Printmakers Guild Minutes of Meetings (photocopies), 1946–1960

Folder 7: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—Texas Printmakers/Printmakers Guild Ledger (photocopy), 1940–1964

Folder 8: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—Texas Printmakers Bank Statements

Folder 9: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—Dallas Circuit Information

Folder 10: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—Object Purchases

Folder 11: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—News Articles

Folder 12: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—Exhibition Catalogues

Folder 13: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—Dallas Museum of Art Objects

Folder 14: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—DMA Print Exhibitions

Folder 15: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—DMA Exhibition Lone Star Regionalists

Folder 16: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—David Farmer Presentation “The Printmakers Guild, 1939–1945” at the North American Print Conference, November 1988

Folder 17: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Research—Notes

Box 16: Independent Curator—The Texas Printmakers (exhibition)

Folder 1: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Beard, Evelyn

Folder 2: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Bradford, Katharine

Folder 3: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Crockett, Grace

Folder 4: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Cuilty, Lia

Folder 5: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Curtis, Mary Cranfill

Folder 6: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Doyle, Mary

Folder 7: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Helfensteller, Veronica

Folder 8: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Gantz, Ann Cushing

Folder 9: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Hendrick, Lura Ann Taylor

Folder 10: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Hubbard, Bess

Folder 11: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Jefferies, Lucille

Folder 12: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Lacy, Lucile

Folder 13: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Landers, Della

Folder 14: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Maples, Barbara

Folder 15: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—McClung, Florence

Folder 16: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—McVeigh, Blanche

Folder 17: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Ramsey, Daga

Folder 18: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Rutland, Emily

Folder 19: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Spellman, Coreen Mary

Folder 20: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Turner, Janet

Folder 21: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Turner, Jean Cullum

Folder 22: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Walmsley, Elizabeth

Folder 23: Exhibition—The Texas Printmakers—Artist File—Wunch, Camille

Series 5: Dallas Love Field Parking Garage Expansion Public Art Project Selection Committee, 2001

Box 9: Love Field Public Art Selection Committee

Folder 2: Correspondence, Project Overview, Meeting notes, April–October 2001

Folder 3: Finalist proposals, October 2001

Folder 4: Artist Teams letter of application and resumes: 1–12, July 2001

Folder 5: Artist Teams letter of application and resumes: 13–26, July 2001

Folder 6: Artist Teams letter of application and resumes: 27–43, July 2001

Box 12: Oversize

Item 2: Oversize Finalist proposal, October 2001

Series 6: Dallas Art Publications

Box 10: Dallas Art Publications

Sub-Series 1: Dallas Arts Revue/Texas Arts Revue, 1979–1994

Item 1: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 1, 1979

Item 2: Dallas Arts Revue, Vol. 1, No. 2, September 1979

Item 3: Texas Arts Revue, Vol. 1, No. 1 (No. 3), Spring 1980

Item 4: Texas Arts Revue, Vol. 1, No. 2 (No. 4), Summer 1980

Item 5: Texas Arts Revue, No. 5, 1980

Item 6: Texas Arts Revue, Vol. 2, No. 6, Summer 1981

Item 7: Texas Arts Revue, No. 7, Autumn 1981

Item 8: Texas Arts Revue, No. 8, Winter 1982

Item 9: Texas Arts Revue, No. 9, Summer/Fall 1982

Item 10: Texas Arts Revue, No. 10, Spring 1983

Item 11: Texas Arts Revue, No. 11, 1983

Item 12: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 12, 1983

Item 13: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 13, 1984

Item 14: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 14, 1985

Item 15: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 15, October 1985

Item 16: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 16, November 1985

Item 17: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 17, December 1985

Item 18: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 18, January 1986

Item 19: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 19, March 1986

Item 20: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 20, Spring 1986

Item 21: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 21, Summer 1986

Item 22: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 22, 1987

Item 23: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 23, Early Summer 1987

Item 24: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 24, Late Summer 1987

Item 25: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 25, Winter 1987

Item 26: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 26, Spring 1988

Item 27: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 27, Summer 1988

Item 28: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 28, Winter 1988

Item 29: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 29, Summer 1989

Item 30: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 30, Winter 1989

Item 31: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 31, Summer 1990

Item 32: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 32, Summer 1991 (Double issue with Amoeba, No. 9)

Item 33: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 34, 1992

Item 34: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 35, Autumn 1992

Item 35: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 36, 1993

Item 36: Dallas Arts Revue, No. 37, June 1994

Item 37: Dallas Arts Revue/Texas Arts Revue Letters (Includes correspondence between Paul Rogers Harris and J. R. Compton regarding the numbering of issues)

Sub-Series 2: Deep End News/Deep End Voice

Monthly publication for news and information from the Deep Ellum/Fair Park Neighborhood Association

Item 1: Deep End News, Vol. 1, No. 1, [April 1987?]

Item 2: Deep End News, Vol. 1, No. 6, October 1987

Item 3: Deep End News, Vol. 1, No. 7, November/December 1987

Item 4: Deep End News, Vol. 1, No. 8, January 1988

Item 5: Deep End News, Vol. 1, No. 9, February 1988

Item 6: Deep End News, Vol. 1, No. 10, March 1988

Item 7: Deep End News, Vol. 1, No. 11, April 1988 (2 copies)

Item 8: Deep End Voice, Vol. 1, No. 1, August 1988

Item 9: Deep End Voice, Vol. 1, No. 2, September 1988

Item 10: Deep End Voice, Vol. 1, No. 3, October 1988

Item 11: The Deep End Voice, Vol. 1, No. 6, February 1989

Item 12: The Deep End Voice, Vol. 1, No. 7, March 1989

Item 13: The Deep End Voice, Vol. 1, No. 8, April 1989

Item 14: The Deep End Voice, Vol. 1, No. 9, May 1989

Item 15: The Deep End Voice, Vol. 1, No. 10, June 1989

Item 16: The Deep End Voice, Vol. 1, No. 11, Late Summer 1989

Sub-Series 3: ARTS Dallas magazine

With Gallery Guide, Theatre Directory, and Cultural Activities

Item 1: ARTS Dallas magazine, NR 1, February 1988 (Premiere issue)

Item 2: ARTS Dallas magazine, NR 2, March 1988 (2 copies)

Item 3: ARTS Dallas magazine, NR 3, April 1988

Item 4: ARTS Dallas magazine, NR 4, May 1988 (2 copies)

Item 5: ARTS Dallas magazine, NR 5, Summer 1988

Item 6: ARTS Dallas magazine, NR 6, September 1988 (2 copies)

Item 7: ARTS Dallas magazine, NR 7, October 1988 (2 copies)

Sub-Series 4: Bwana-Art

Alternative publication for Dallas artists

Item 1: Bwana-Art, Vol. 3, No.1 (Includes Bwana-Art, Vol. 2, No. 1)

Item 2: Bwana-Art, Vol. 4, No. 1, 1983

Item 3: Bwana-Art 5

Item 4: Bwana-Art 7

Item 5: Bwana-Art 8 (2 copies)

Item 6: Bwana-Art 10

Item 7: Bwana-Art 11 (2 copies)

Sub-Series 5: Gallery Catalogues

Item 1: Lucero Scanga Surls—Delahunty Gallery, September 1982 (See also copy in Mildred R. and Frederick M. Mayer Library, Dallas Museum of Art)

Item 2: Photography in Spain in the Nineteenth Century—Delahunty Gallery, March 3–April 11, 1984 (See also copy in Mildred R. and Frederick M. Mayer Library, Dallas Museum of Art)

Series 7: Audio Recordings

Box 11: Audio Recordings

Item 1: Gallery Lectures: Paul Rogers Harris (Audiocassette, “Projects: David McManaway,” DMFA [side A]; “The Woman Who Challenged,” from The Texas Printmakers exhibition, rehearsal at 7211 Concord Avenue, Dallas [side B])

Item 2: Conversations with David McManaway, April 18, 1991 (Audiocassette, 7211 Concord Avenue, Dallas)

Item 3: Conversations at the McManaways’ home (Audiocassette; Jan McCommas, Sam Gummelt, Norma McManaway)

Item 4: Taped at McManaways’ home on Tremont, c. 1991 (Audiocassette; David McManaway, Sam Gummelt, Jan McCommas)

Item 5: Paul Rogers Harris lecture: “Exhibition Design for Public Education for Public Schools” (Audiocassette)

Item 6: Harris, Paul—Talk at D.A.R.E., DMA (Microcassette)

Item 7: Boynton, Jack, December 13, 1996 (Microcassette)

Item 8: Love, Jim (Microcassette)

Item 9: Love, Jim, March 1997 (Microcassette)

Item 10: Witkin, Joel-Peter, DMA, April 27, 1995 (Microcassette)

Item 11: McManaway, David, January 4, 1997 (Microcassette)

Item 12: Nunn, Bob, Interview (Microcassette)

Item 13: Harris, Paul, and Kutner, Janet, Waco, Texas, September 28, 1994 (Microcassette)

Item 14: Harris, Paul—Recollections of DMCA (Oak Lawn, MacAgy, Exhibition and Installations, Oldenburg Happening) (Microcassette)

Item 15: Owens, Gene (Microcassette)

DallasSITES: A Developing Art Scene, Postwar to Present

About This Publication

About the Texas Curatorial Fund for Research

About the Dallas Museum of Art

About DallasSITES

This publication is best viewed using the latest version of web browser.

Neighborhood Essays

Fair Park-South Dallas: The City's First Arts District

Leigh Arnold

Uptown: The Original Gallery District

Leigh Arnold

A Vibrant but Short-Lived Contemporary Art Museum

A Gallery District Emerges

DARE and The MAC

Uptown in the New Millennium

Oak Cliff: Dallas' Left Bank

Leigh Arnold

Oak Cliff Artists: 1970s

Northwood Institute’s Contemporary Arts Program

Oak Cliff through the 1980s

Into the 21st Century

Deep Ellum: Where Mainstream and Counterculture Converge

Leigh Arnold

The 1970s and 500X

The 1980s: An Explosion of Arts Activity

The 1990s and Beyond

Deep Ellum in the New Millennium

Arts District–Downtown: A City’s Cultural Dream Come True

Leigh Arnold

The 1950s and 1960s

The 1970s

Developing an Arts District

The 1980s

The 1990s

Into the 21st Century

Design District: Not Just for Interior Decorators

Leigh Arnold

University Communities: Shaping the Future

Leigh Arnold

Artists as Teachers

Artist Collectives

Visiting Artists

Notable Faculty and Alumni

Scholarly Essays

Contemporary Art at the Dallas Museum of Art: How Stanley Marcus, Al Meadows, and James and Lillian Clark Shaped a Collection

Leigh Arnold

Stanley Marcus: The Beginning of Contemporary Art Collecting

Al Meadows: A Contemporary Collecting Boom

James H. and Lillian Clark: Carrying the Contemporary Collection Forward

Appendices

Gallery Location Map

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Edith Baker and Patricia Meadows

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Eugene Binder

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Anne and Alan Bromberg

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Laura Carpenter and Nic Nicosia

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

J. R. Compton

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Celia Eberle

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Brian Gibb

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Susan kae Grant

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Paul Rogers Harris

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

John Held Jr.

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Janet Kutner

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

June Mattingly

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

David McCullough with Ruth Wiseman

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection

Vicki Meek

History of Contemporary Art in Dallas Oral History Collection