Gun-Toting Grandmothers Meet Pornographic Yo-Yos in Brooklyn

Museums are great, but many feel that the best part of visiting one is stopping at the gift shop on the way out. Those who feel that no cultural adventure is complete without a browse through the museum bookshop should head down to the Brooklyn Collective Gallery, located at 198 Columbia St. The Brooklyn Collective is at once artisan’s gallery and communal marketplace, bringing together the disparate wares of many Brooklyn artists.

With Tiffany light fixtures illuminating its red-painted interior, the den-like co-operative boutique houses all kinds of handmade objects in a laid-back atmosphere. The goods range from embroidery work and other light-hearted knick-knacks to paintings, photographs, and silk-screened tees—all mixed together in a pairing of the perverse and the palatable.

The Brooklyn Collective’s recipe for success seems simple enough: equal parts local talent, organic creativity, natural determination, and 100 percent good spirit. Nonetheless, Rachel Goldberg and Tessa Philips, the founders of The Brooklyn Collective, established the gallery in response to the lack of such an ostensibly basic MO.

Motivated by their own experiences in the conservative and often creativity-restrictive atmosphere of arts and design sale, the enterprising owners intend for the Collective to foster a creativity unfettered by the financial and aesthetic jurisdictions of most gallery owners and store buyers.

As a boutique, gallery, and social center, Brooklyn Collective’s diverse functions parallel the mixed personality of its locale. And as a fashion designer and jewelry designer, respectively, Goldberg and Philips embody the creative eclecticism that they hoped their gallery would stimulate. Although the original creative vision of the two founders has driven the Collective’s success, they rely on the input and interest of artists within the community.

In this way, the Brooklyn Collective quite effectively brings together the artist and the viewer. And these ladies certainly know how to play hostess and make their guests feel welcome. Each season’s collection opens with a party. The Collective teams up with Lido’s, the bar next door—matching the casual feel of Brooklyn Collective, Lido’s offers the ideal neighborhood hangout.

The informal and familiar atmosphere of the opening parties carries over to the exhibitions themselves. A palpable sense of collaboration, uncommon in the art world, pervades the Brooklyn Collective. At the Collective, Goldberg and Philips value artistic process and productivity over profit. Each month, the artists on exhibit at the Collective share the cost of rent and keep 100 percent of the profits they make from the sales of their wares. This mode of sale allows each artist autonomy and creative freedom in a space designed with the artist—not the consumer—in mind.

The Collective’s non-discriminatory policy makes for a diverse assortment of arts and crafts. Ranging from elegant to obscure, a variety of mini-exhibits dot the interior of the gallery. Shelves display hand-painted canvas sneakers, guitar straps embroidered with song lyrics, and slightly unsettling painted book covers which recall the surly, admonitory imagery from the Grimms Brothers’ tales. Although much of the work is quite interesting and imaginative, some of it is too flighty and verges on insignificant.

Alexandra Batsford’s photographs are humorous and affecting takes on mundane daily routines. Batsford uses the camera angle and lighting to pare down her surroundings to powerful and expressive distillations of a moment. Framing a profile of a grizzly old bird clutching a larger than life rifle, Grandma with Gun exemplifies Batsford’s humor. Perhaps more powerfully, if less humorously, Street Scene presents a familiar and accessible glimpse of a summer afternoon in the neighborhood. The image capitalizes on angles and diagonal lines. The paws of a dog along the bottom edge of the frame are cut out. Complementing this, the owner’s head is also cut out along the top edge. A pair of tan legs in jean cut-offs strides across the image and intensifies the sense of movement and vitality in the scene.

Marc Goldberg also attempts to render humorous takes on everyday peculiarities and overlooked treasures, but his images of action figures and dolls do not transcend their inherent silliness with the same effect that Batsman’s do.

Despite Goldberg’s shortcomings, the majority of the works on display at the Collective have definite appeal and immediately engage the viewer. Niccole Ugay adopts a frank, feminine eroticism in her paintings—female portraits comprise the entirety of her work. Each one is sincere and presents a contemporary and simultaneously timeless representation of the female mystique. Audery’s focused gaze accosts viewers, and a ghost of Austrian painter Gustav Klimt and his protégé Egon Schiele linger in Ugay’s use of color, especially in Myrna. Here, Ugay endows her subject with a visceral presence in the bold blush that colors her cheekbones. Ugay’s pencil work and brushstrokes are strong—and at times harsh—giving her figures an almost cosmetic appeal.

Gallery owner Tessa Philips’ crafts share the forward femininity of Ugay’s portraits, but with a rather different effect. In her porno yo-yos, Philips remodels the classic toy to elicit new and unexpected pleasures. Philips crafts her yo-yos with lacquered images of busty brunettes and hourglass-figured blondes cut out from 1970s magazines. These might not be your typical museum shop souvenirs, but they certainly grab the eye and fit the whimsical and creative verve that defines the Brooklyn Collective.

Part rough-around-the-edges innovation and irreverent artistry and part casual accommodations and homey hospitality, an afternoon spent at the Brooklyn Collective Gallery is definitely worth the trip.