An Investigation into the Coffee Shop/Gallery Business

I am sitting at Torreo Coffee shop in Center City, Philadelphia, with Chamyang "Wojo" Uknow, whose photographs — most of lonely men on lonely streets captured in classic browns and whites — grace the chartreuse walls. Wojo is talking about coffee and art, in particular, his own luck at getting shows at many Philadelphia coffee shop/galleries. "I prefer my work to hang in cafes rather than galleries," Wojo says, "I'll put my stuff in galleries, but I'd rather have everyone see my photographs every day than have those closed doors. Galleries have strange hours — some are by appointment only. With coffee shops there is a wider variety of people, from many different social levels. Maybe they're interested in art, and maybe not. But I think most people like at least one of my photographs."

Coffee shop/galleries can play an important role in the careers of most artists--often a coffee shop will be the first venue to show an artist's work. In doing so, they provide artists with the validation of seeing their work hanging on white walls, and, as Wojo pointed out, an audience that is far more diverse than the one attracted to posh galleries. Coffee shops can also promote work through sales and exposure. When Wojo showed his work at café La Colombe in Manayuk, a Philadelphia Inquirer reporter wandered in. Impressed by the photographs, he wrote a long feature on Wojo, giving him in-depth publicity in Philadelphia's top newspaper. While Adam Levick, manager at Torreo, admits that only a few pieces of work get sold each year, "they're giving us free artwork, and we give them exposure. We have hundreds of customers each day. People come in and ask, 'Who did this?'"

Pat Lyons, founder of the Kailo Mantua Art Center, which provides art education for the homeless, mentally ill, and mentally challenged, has been connecting Philadelphia artists with local coffee shop/galleries for over 10 years. In that time, she's worked with almost 800 artists--and she maintains files on most of them. Lyons launched her informal coffee shop-artist liaison career when she realized both how difficult it is to secure a gallery show and how crucial showing work is to the artistic process. "Artists need to show their work in order to continue producing it," Lyons says, "Without supportive people saying 'hey, what you're doing is important,' you can lose sight of it."

Lyons never turns down an artist's request for a show. "I think that if you think you're ready for a show, than you should have one," she explains. Lyons gives each artist a list of the coffee shops (from the Taco House to the lounge at the Marriott hotel) that she serves, and encourages them to visit the spaces and consider which location is most appropriate. Because Lyons tries to keep each artist's work showing for as long as possible, her venues are often booked a year in advance. "It's not enough to show for one month a year," she explains, "you need to get on the circuit, keep stuff out for four or five months."

Why the focus on showing? "It serves two purposes," Lyons tells me. "One, it gets your work out of the studio. Two, it changes the perception of the city. Having art in coffee shops educates people about art, and that's important for developing an audience. You need to expand people's definition of what art is. If you don't do that, then your art won't sell. But I tell my artist's not to worry about selling their art--it's not what counts."

Lena Keingarsky opened Cosmos Coffee Shop and Gallery last July. A recent immigrant from Norway, Keingarsky saw a need for more community coffee shops in America. " In Norway there are a lot of small coffee shops that show work," she says, "Each has a theme: one will have books, another games, another the Internet and international clients." Lena dreamed of opening a gallery some day, and her husband longed for a coffee shop. It didn't take long to combine those dreams. A photographer herself, Keingarsky regrets that the shop doesn't give her more time to pursue her work, but finds that by running a neighborhood shop "you meet a lot of people and get opportunities." Her photographs will be shown at The Painted Bride, a venerable Philadelphia institution, this month.

How do you get a coffee shop show? You ask. In lieu of a Pat Lyons' in your neighborhood, you should approach the shop manager yourself. Neither Torreo nor Cosmos has a formal application process: if they like your work, you're in. Ask also about an opening night reception--if you take care of arranging the details, most coffee shops would be glad to stay open a little later if it gains them some new customers. But beware: many shops will expect to earn a percentage of anything that sells. At Torreo all the money goes to the artist; at Cosmos they take 30% of the sale price. Since art agents usually earn 50 or even 60% of a work's selling price, a coffee shop wanting 30% might seem reasonable. Lyons would disagree: she never takes a commission herself, and won't work with any shops that do. Whatever you decide, be sure that you enter the showing/selling process fully aware of what is expected of you, and what you can expect to earn.

Alexander Vasin is a regular at Cosmos--so much of one that he has a weekly chess game set up with Keingarsky. A student at Temple, he feels that coffee shop/galleries work because "Coffee is a more common denominator than art, but everyone loves art when you expose them to their kind." Wojo takes this a step further: in displaying his photographs in a coffee shop not only is he bringing his art to "the people," he's able to bring the people to himself. Every morning Wojo sits at Torreo's wood tables, sipping coffee and watching customers observe his work. "I like people to hang out and see my stuff," he says, "this is a community room. It's a living room, with work hung on the wall." Wojo pauses, and then continues, "and that's a beautiful thing."

Indeed.

This article was originally created for TheArtBiz.com. It appears on NYFA Interactive courtesy of the Abigail Rebecca Cohen Library.