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SELECTED PRESS / ESSAYS
WASHINGTON
FLYER
House of Blues
On U Street, five guys dream a little about D.C.’s alternative
arts scene
By Margaret Foster
September/October 2001
Jose Ruiz and his buddies aren't trying to fool anyone. They're local
artists. But they're also young. So when the guys launched the gallery
and studio Decatur Blue (919 Florida Ave. NW, 202-518-8969) last year,
it was assumed the place would have more than a few party-house tendencies.
That's why you'll see gallery couches slouching like old mares and cigarette
butts dotting the floors. But unlike fraternity row in College Park,
you'll also see original paintings and photographs stacked along the
walls—reminders of D.C.'s vibrant arts scene.
"We try to keep the gallery humble," says Ruiz, 25. "Anyone
who likes art and wants to know more about it can come in and not have
[the experience] be an art-history thing."
Decatur Blue's origins are a combination of artistic serendipity and
guts. Last year, Ruiz spied a 2,000-square-foot studio near the U Street
Metro. He needed help with the rent, so he called a few friends and
found four—fellow artists Stoff Smulson, Ryan Hackett, Javier
Cuellar and Champ Taylor—willing to pitch in. The five met and,
unlike an episode of MTV's "Real World," got along. As they
painted, ripped up carpets and installed track lighting, the young artists
decided to become curators. A few months later, Decatur Blue held its
first show. And on September 22, the gallery will host its tenth art
opening, a multimedia group show.
"There's a renaissance going on in this neighborhood, and you can
feel it," says Smulson. "We've tried to tap into that."
The gallery has helped that urban renaissance. On opening nights, about
400 people flock to Decatur Blue—gallery owners, art collectors
and families with kids—for the open bar, the live music and, of
course, the art. The low-key ambiance works. Art sells at every opening,
and people keep coming back. "We're showing art in a way that allows
you to enjoy it," says Smulson. "Art doesn't happen in some
pristine gallery. It happens in a raw manner, with music, sweat and
dirt."
In some exhibits, the gallery has displayed photographs of a birth,
multimedia paintings and a walk-in installation of a girl's pink bedroom,
its walls covered with heavy-metal posters. Though the Decatur Blue
brothers may seem revolutionary, they have studied the masters in art
school and are plugged into D.C.'s well-heeled galleries (Taylor even
works at the Phillips Collection). While they work with established
artists, they seek out emerging ones. "Our main concern is to promote
young artists," says Ruiz.
The gallery is breaking even, but its curators aren't in it for the
cash. "We're not the most business-savvy, money-making kind of
place," Smulson says. "We're all living the lives of starving
artists."
Still, it doesn't take much to figure out that the boys are having a
good time. At their exhibits, you can catch a little music, a little
art and a lot of atmosphere. "I've been in galleries and, all of
a sudden, the lights go down at nine o'clock," Smulson says. "Our
lights don't go off until two or three."