Constantine Grimaldis, founder of C. Grimaldis Gallery, now at the Mill Centre in Hampden. Credit: Ed Gunts

When art gallery owner Constantine “Costas” Grimaldis closed his business on Charles Street and moved to Hampden last December, it was a setback for a once-bustling block of Baltimore City.

His business, C. Grimaldis Gallery, was part of a mix of tenants that would have made Jane Jacobs proud — restaurants, shops, services and apartment dwellers all on the same block, everything that makes a city lively and walkable.

C. Grimaldis Gallery opened in September of 1977 in the front parlor of a Mount Vernon rowhouse at 928 N. Charles St. In 1986, it moved to 523 N. Charles Street, where it remained until December 31. From 1990 to 1993, Grimaldis also had a building at 1006 Morton Street to show large-scale sculpture, called the C. Grimaldis Gallery Sculpture Space. That’s 48 years of continuous operation in Baltimore.

While on Charles Street, the business gained a reputation for being a leading contemporary gallery, specializing in postwar American and European art. Besides featuring Maryland artists such as Eugene “Bud” Leake, Raoul Middleman and Grace Hartigan, Grimaldis introduced the Baltimore public to such art history icons as Alice Neel, Elaine de Kooning, Willem de Kooning and Sir Anthony Caro. To the extent that Baltimore is on anyone’s map in the art world today, he helped put it there.

“A Costas Grimaldis show in Baltimore was the closest you could get as an artist to having a New York City opening,” said Baltimore-based filmmaker and visual artist John Waters, who has had three shows with the gallery. “He knew the right collectors, the heavy hitter painters and photographers yet was still always looking for new talent. For decades his Charles Street gallery WAS the Baltimore art scene.”

 “Costas is a dear friend and someone I deeply respect — both personally and professionally,” said Amy Eva Raehse, partner and executive director of Goya Contemporary Gallery and Goya-Girl Press in Baltimore. “What he built here was groundbreaking: a vision-driven, sustainable space that filled a critical gap in the local art ecosystem. He accomplished this largely through his own determination and perseverance, often without the structural support that others might consider standard. His contribution has been nothing short of extraordinary.”

Over 48 years, Grimaldis calculates, his gallery mounted 445 exhibitions in the three locations, including solo and group shows. It also participated in Art Fairs in Chicago, Miami, Palm Beach, Dallas, New York, Palm Springs and Paris. Its roster of artists was never more than 50 and is now around 25.

“I estimate that more than 1000 artists from the U.S. as well as from Europe and Asia have somewhere in their resume an exhibition at C. Grimaldis Gallery,” he says.

Six months ago, Grimaldis closed his Charles Street location and moved his gallery to the Mill Centre at 3000 Chestnut Ave. in Hampden. It’s a former cotton mill that has been repurposed as a creative hub for dozens of artists, designers and owners of related businesses.

He now occupies a first-level suite that gives him about one third of the space he had on Charles Street, not enough to mount the large-scale exhibitions he had before. He’s using the space to display a sampling of the work of many of the artists he represents, and perhaps smaller exhibits starting in the fall. There’s also room for him and an assistant to oversee the virtual gallery they maintain online, on platforms such as Artsy and Instagram. Their website is: www.cgrimaldisgallery.com.

Grimaldis, 84, recently took a break from his work at the gallery to talk about his days on Charles Street and his plans for the relocated gallery at the Mill Centre. This interview has been edited and condensed.

Baltimore Fishbowl: Why did you move?

Constantine Grimaldis:  The reason I moved here is that the owner of the [Charles Street] building, the Theosophical Society, has gotten down to about four to five members and decided to sell and asked me to vacate the premises. They gave me six months.

BFB: It wasn’t your choice?

CG: It wasn’t my choice, no.

BFB: Who was in the space you now occupy at the Mill Centre? An artist?

CG: No, this was a design studio. There are a lot of artists here.

BFB: How does the amount of space you have now compare with what you had on Charles Street?

CG: It’s less than a third of what I had.

BFB: How much do you have now?

CG: About 450 square feet. I came down from about 1700 square feet, 1800 square feet.

BFB: Can you have exhibitions here?

CG: No. Not really. I cannot do exhibitions here.

BFB: It’s not allowed?

CG:  No, I cannot. I mean, I don’t have the space to do exhibitions. If I do an exhibition, it will be a very small exhibition.

BFB: You have had exhibitions in New York, in Texas, in Miami.

CG: Yes, we do art fairs. We will do art fairs.

BFB: What made you decide to move to the Mill Centre?

CG: Good question. I want to go back to Charles Street, a little bit. Charles Street, our block of Charles Street, was a gem of a block. It’s going to hell. Nobody cares. Nobody cares.

BFB: It’s going to hell, you said.

CG: It’s going to hell. There was Sascha’s restaurant [at 527 N. Charles St.], Louie’s [Bookstore Café] across the street. I was there. There was a good clothing store at the corner. The [optician] next to me. It was lively during the day. It was lively during the early part of the night.

BFB: Right out of Jane Jacobs. Especially when Louie’s and Sascha’s were there.

CG: Until 11 o’clock there would be people – 10, 11. After everything closed — except the clothing store, the eye doctor’s, myself — it went to hell. At night, there was fear. You would come to work in the morning and somebody would be sleeping in your vestibule.

BFB: Were you the only tenant in your building?

CG: After a while, yes. They had an apartment upstairs, but it was come and go. And some of them, beggars. I hope I don’t ever end up like that. We do have a sense of yes, we want to help. But [when litter builds up], we have a problem. And we have a problem because some of my clients, they would not come to the gallery.

BFB: Even for your shows?

CG: Even for the shows. Or they would come but never on the opening. I had many, many openings where it was just the artist and young people. They are fearless, thank God. But let’s be honest. All this is not done based on altruism. You know, we are not doing that because we are just good people. We do have to pay the rent. But I would still have been there if the sale of the building hadn’t happened.

BFB: There have been half a dozen different restaurants at 518 N. Charles St. since Louie’s closed in 1998, and that building’s currently vacant and up for sale.

CG: That is true.

BFB: Do galleries still fill a role in the life of the city the way your gallery has done for many years?

CG: I think that galleries are very important in the life of the city.

BFB: Baltimore still has a number of non-profit galleries, such as Maryland Art Place.

CG: I was on the founding board of Maryland Art Place.

BFB: But the number of for-profit galleries has dwindled in Baltimore.

CG: There are small galleries. Amy [Eva Raehse] at Goya Contemporary Gallery [at the Mill Centre]. Great work. Different aesthetic than mine, but great work.

BFB: Is that still a model that works?

CG: In the age of social media, if you read the reports in the [New York] Times, or Artnet, for instance, they will tell you that the model itself is getting outdated. Social media, the internet, has affected us, but I don’t think this is the problem. I think there is a disparity in the commission of artists and the pricing of artists. If you go to the auctions [in New York City, works of art sell for] more than a million dollars. Who are these people? Who are these people? That’s the thing.

BFB: Auctions are certainly another way that art is sold.

CG: I don’t want to tell you there are not these kinds of people in Baltimore. I am sure there are. But are [potential buyers] in a position to do that philosophically? Have they reached the point where they’re going to spend $50 million for a piece of art instead of a piece of property, a big house?

BFB: Does your move give you a chance to rethink the way you do business?

CG: Exactly…I cannot do a major exhibition here. My next event will be in September, a book signing. The artist is Ben Marcin. The title of the book is The Holdouts. It incorporates his Last House Standing series, which you may have seen.

BFB: His photography documents cases in Baltimore where people have torn down most of a block and leave just one house standing by itself.

CG: And then also it goes out in the country. And then these – the hobo camps…So this book is coming here. It was printed in Europe. It’s out in Europe now. It’s coming out [in the U. S.] in the summer, and in September we’re going to have a small exhibition of that work and a book signing.

BFB: Books have always been a good way to promote artists and their work.

CG: I go back to the old days, to [a seminal book about the work of artist] Eugene Leake. Craig Hankin wrote it and Johns Hopkins [Press] published it. A lot of people really got very excited about it. A lot of books were sold and a lot of works were sold. There is a lot of work that is being sold by word of mouth, artists’ studios. There are small galleries in Baltimore, but some of them are not open all week at this point. I think you can sell work off of the internet. I think most of the work is being sold off of the internet. We have an Artsy [account] and we are on Artnet…We get a lot of inquiries.

BFB: You represent around 25 artists now?

CG: Even when the gallery was open on Charles Street, it couldn’t be more. There were many others that I gave an exhibition.

BFB: I understand there’s a limit to how many artists a gallery can represent and still be effective. You can’t just keep adding and adding. And there’s a difference between representing an artist and having an exhibition of the artist’s work.

CG: When I talk about some very big names that we’ve had exhibitions with, they were not representations. I…had a relationship which resulted in two major exhibitions [with Willem de Kooning]. You can’t say that I represented that artist. It was exhibitions. Alice [Neel], the same thing.

BFB: How did you connect with Bud Leake?

CG: Through Raoul Middleman. Raoul was one of the early people who joined the gallery. He was instrumental. In the early days, and it’s a long time ago, we would get together once a month, or every couple of months. Artists would come to the gallery and sit down and kind of BS. Because at that point we were the only game in town…A lot of good ideas came out of those [sessions].

BFB: Phoebe Stanton, the architecture critic and Johns Hopkins art history professor, used to be a part of salons with local architects who would get together and want to listen to her.

CG: It wasn’t that they were coming to listen to me. I was listening to them.

BFB: But you provided the space where they came together. Does it help that you’re in the same building with Amy Eva Raehse’s Goya Contemporary Gallery? Does that make you stronger?

CG: Probably. I like the idea of being here with Amy.

BFB: Did you answer why you chose to move to the Mill Centre?

CG: No I didn’t. It was a comfortable spot to be at at this point. I needed a space to sort of understand what is going to be my next step. 

BFB: The Mill Centre is different from Charles Street in that you aren’t on a main city corridor and you don’t have to contend to the same degree with issues such as panhandlers and litter.

CG: I’m not going to put it all on panhandlers. I would put it on the lap of the city, the problem.

BFB: The recent Charles Street Promenade drew lots of people who got out of their cars, strolling in front of the building where your gallery was.

CG: Great. Marvelous. It happened before. The first time it happened, I didn’t see anybody [come into the gallery].

BFB: The crowds didn’t help your gallery?

CG: This is the problem that I never understood. Every time [community leaders] were having these shindigs on the parking lot across from me at Louie’s, you say, Well, OK, I’m closing [during the event]…Those people are here to drink beer and have a good time. They’re not here to look at art.

BFB: It keeps certain people away, you’re saying.

CG: And [promoters] don’t advertise it as: there’s also this, this, this, this, and this on the block where you are going to go and drink beer. All right? Come on. Let’s not equate everything. And this is the problem with the city. We have equated everything. Everything is the same. Hey! It’s a party!

BFB: There seems to be a big push by the city to commission artists to paint murals around town, in part to cover up or thwart graffiti. Philadelphia is doing it, too. It’s as if city leaders think that’s the only answer to exposing people to art.

CG: And Artscape is the only answer. It’s not. It’s a good thing. It’s a good thing. But not the answer.

BFB: Are you too good for Baltimore?

CG: No, I’m not going to say that. I am different, I would say.

BFB: Are you better than Baltimore?

CG: No, I’m not doing that. But I will say that I was a little bit ahead of my time on certain things.

BFB: Like Alexander Cochran bringing Modern architecture to Baltimore in the 1950s.

CG: Brenda Richardson [the former deputy director and chief curator at the Baltimore Museum of Art], came to the museum the same year I opened.

BFB: She was ahead of her time, showcasing Modern art at the BMA.

CG: That’s what we were trying to do, too.

BFB: Are you changing what you represent in any way, by moving to the Mill Centre?

CG: No. I’m the same. I’m representing the same people…We’re going to be doing what you see around you – [presenting examples of work by a variety of artists] either from our inventory or from other artists [who want to have a presence at the gallery]. I’m just at this point trying to have a presence.

BFB: Will you be at shows in other cities?

CG: We hope to go to Miami.

BFB: In December.

CG: And one exhibition that I would like to get back into is Dallas. We were there from the beginning of that fair and did quite well.

BFB: Which show do you do in Miami?

CG: Art Miami. That has been a very good fair for us.

BFB: When she led the Baltimore Office of Promotion and the Arts, now Create Baltimore, Donna Drew Sawyer said she wanted to bring an Art Basel-type event to Baltimore.

CG: Miami has a whole bunch of collectors, real collectors. We have Mr. Meyerhoff, who is a real collector. I’m sure there are a few.

BFB: It takes a major commitment by the city and the artists and the dealers to produce the range of shows that Miami puts on.

CG: A lot of collectors got together…with the city. But it’s also Miami.

BFB: Coverage of art in the mainstream press is also something that has changed over the years. It helped make people aware of art and galleries. It affected the way people think about art. It sparked conversations about art.

CG: From 1987 and 1988 on, we were in the paper every month. [Sun art critic] John Dorsey wrote an incredible article in The Sunday Sun in 1987 about Anthony Caro, the British sculptor. We had a show on March 23 and we had four outdoor pieces in Cross Keys. He wrote an incredible article. Caro liked it so much that he asked him to write his catalog for the next show that he had in New York.

BFB: Did he write it?

CG: Yes. After John, there was [Glenn] McNatt.

BFB: And Elizabeth Stevens.

CG: Elizabeth Stevens was before John.

BFB: That’s an important related subject, media coverage of art and galleries. The one helps the other. And when the one dries up, that doesn’t help the art world and the galleries. Now the section of the local Sunday paper that used to cover art devotes a lot of space to covering parties.

CG: That’s where our society is, isn’t it?

BFB: What does a city lose when a gallery closes?

BFB: A part of its cultural life. It isn’t just about an exhibition. It’s about the people who come to see it. It’s about the discussions people who come to the gallery have about that exhibition. There have been some very serious exhibitions. Especially in the olden days when there was also print [coverage by mainstream newspapers.]

BFB: Your gallery helped provide the subject matter for the newspaper articles that enlightened the general public about art and sparked the conversations.

CG: That was important and that is what is lost. That leads to a much larger question, which is newspapers.

BFB: What are some of the highlights to you, of your years on Charles Street?

CG: Grace [Hartigan]. Anthony Caro. Alice Neel. Elaine de Kooning and Bill de Kooning. Bud Leake, Eugene.

BFB: You had the cream of the crop.

CG: Then we had exhibitions of artists who were not in the limelight but they made history later, in New York at least. Important artists, like Thomas Nozkowski for instance.

BFB: Artists who broke new ground.

CG: Who drove visions. Joel Fisher. Wade Saunders. Mel Kendrick. They were not the big names at the time but they were mid-career artists that were doing things.

BFB: What are you most proud of?

CG: Maybe the way that people, a good number of people, reacted to my closing [on Charles Street]. I was touched by a lot of people.

BFB: Your move prompted people to reflect on your accomplishments and your gallery’s role in the city.

CG: There were many times in my career that gave me pride. Meeting Anthony Caro and being friends with that man.

BFB: Did you ever get any artists who said, ‘Baltimore? Why should I care about Baltimore?’

CG: I heard that from dealers in the old days in New York.

BFB: Did they think you were competition?

CG: No, and that’s the thing. They shouldn’t have thought that because I’m in the provinces. I heard it. And I used that, actually, [to land the gallery’s] second show of work by Willem de Kooning. Xavier Fourcade [the artist’s dealer in New York], said to me precisely: ‘Willem de Kooning doesn’t need Baltimore.’

BFB: Did he even know where Baltimore was when he said that?

CG: We had done a show with Bill de Kooning. But for some reason that night he was not feeling well and he decided to be difficult [and said] Willem de Kooning doesn’t need Baltimore. But I said Baltimore does need Willem de Kooning. And Xavier said we will do the exhibition.

BFB: Would you say you were instrumental in putting Baltimore on the map in the art world?

CG: I would say yes, certainly, on my level. I don’t want anybody to think I’m competing with the museum or anything like that. On my level. On the Baltimore level, absolutely.

BFB: What do you mean by your level?

CG: As the gallery.

BFB: When did you see it starting to happen?

CG: In the eighties, the mid- to late-eighties to the nineties.

BFB: What was your high point, your peak?

CG: 1987 to 2005.

BFB: What’s the biggest crowd that ever came to one of your exhibits?

CG: John Waters.

BFB: Which show of his?

CG: Any show. First, second, third. We did three shows. The lines were out the door.

BFB: What’s the secret to telling whether a work of art is good or not?

CG: If the thing that I look at hits my stomach, I know it’s good. I do. I have a physical reaction to the piece.

BFB: A visceral reaction?

CG: I have cried in front of a piece of art.

BFB: Without even knowing who the artist is?

CG: Yes. You have to have a visceral — if you want to say that — reaction. You can dissect it with education, fine. But I think that for me it’s secondary. I have to react to it. I have to react to it.

BFB: Some people may think a work of art is good because the artist is famous, or they’ve exhibited work internationally. But that’s not always the case.

CG: That’s not the case. I can’t tell people to buy it because it has a big signature. You have to like the piece, not because it’s from so-and-so or so-and-so. You’ve got to live with it. You know, in the caves, [people] had a need [for art]. Whether it was communication or, I don’t know, maybe it was saying I’ll be home at five. Or it could be the need to have a representation of something. But there was a need for art. It’s a need. It’s not a luxury.

BFB: Are you happy you’ve been in Baltimore all these years? I guess if you didn’t like it, you would have gone elsewhere.

CG: I would have gone. I can’t say I’m in love. I would prefer to be in Athens, but I’m not. I do have a place in Athens. I go there two or three times a year.

BFB: You’ve had quite a life.

CG: I have. It’s been good.

BFB: Have you thought about retiring?

CG: I don’t know what I would do with myself.

BFB: What do you do to stay energized?

CG: I travel. Next month I’m going to go to Europe for a month, a month and a half, and recharge. Then I’m ready to go again.

BFB: What would you like people to take away from this interview?

CG: I’d like to put forth the idea that, I don’t know for how long, but I’m still alive and I’m still going. I’m still here and our artists are still here…I’m in the game.

Mill Centre artists (@millcentreartists21211) will have an Open Studios event at 3000 Chestnut Avenue on Saturday and Sunday, July 18 and 19, from noon to 5 p.m. both days. Free parking is available in the lot at Mill and Darby streets, just south of 32nd Street and north of Falls Road between Chestnut and Elm avenues in Hampden.

Ed Gunts is a local freelance writer and the former architecture critic for The Baltimore Sun.

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