Sande Webster Gallery of African American art closing

For more than four decades, Sande Webster has been a torch on the Philadelphia art scene.

First at Locust Street Gallery, founded by Webster and three partners, then on her own, she has been a force for the commercial exhibition of photography, ceramics, and textiles as art, and - perhaps most notably - has provided an uninterrupted outlet for the work of African American artists.

After 42 years running a gallery here, through the recessions of the early 1980s, the early 1990s, and the early 2000s, Webster is finally closing. She stayed one recession too long. Business has gone south.

"People are scared to death," Webster said this week as she bounced around the welter of what was once one of the city's premier art spaces.

"She was very brave when she did what she did, which was to open a gallery with African American art," said Libby Rosof, cofounder with Roberta Fallon of TheArtBlog.com, which chronicles art in Philadelphia. "People advised her not to do it. But she provided opportunities for people who would not have been shown. . . . I think she's heroic."

Now, Sande Webster Gallery on Walnut Street seems more like a dustbin after a heavy wind. Art is stacked against walls, papers are piled high, wads of bubble wrap are strewn everywhere. She can't find her glasses. Where's the phone?

This is what the end of a business looks like.

She's giving away old prints and frames, all kinds of art-related objects. Even art.

"The craziest thing is trying to return the work of 50 artists," she said. With a sweep of her hand, she added, "We're giving this away."

She had a couple of sidewalk sales last weekend, selling $800 and $900 prints for $25 a pop. Business was brisk; she sold out.

"We made $1,000," she crowed. "You can imagine how many we had to sell at $25 apiece." Much will be donated to a charitable organization that provides meals for those in need.

What happened? Webster, 78, a rock on the city's art landscape since before there even seemed to be an art landscape, has seen a lot.

"The last year, business has steadily declined," she said. "The interesting thing, being in business for so long, this has happened two or three times before. But it always came back after a few months. This time, it didn't come back at all."

Collectors and other clients have grown reluctant to put down substantial sums; instead, they now worry about paying their children's college tuitions. Art acquisition is on the back burner.

Wealthy buyers are still in the game, she said, but the rest - those who might have spent $10,000 or even $20,000 on a painting four years ago - are holding on to their cash.

"Art is something they say, 'OK, I can wait on it,' " she said.

Webster once might have grossed $1 million in a decent year. She's now below $500,000. "Rent is going up. Health care. Rent on the frame shop. It's all going up," she said.

"I was not willing to sacrifice the quality of the artwork I was selling to have artwork that was more accessible. I have a reputation for quality and integrity."

Moe Brooker, one of the more prominent African American artists in the city, who has exhibited at the gallery for more than 20 years, called the closing "a big blow for the city."

Before Webster, "no galleries in the city were willing to show African American artists, period. Her gallery opened the door," he said, though even now, "you won't find a large number of artists showing regularly with other galleries."

The impact will be felt in two ways, Brooker said. "What's lost now, I think, is that younger emerging artists won't be getting the exposure they deserve, so potential careers will be stifled." Just as important, "the [greater] community won't be able to see these people."

Another local artist, Richard J. Watson, who is also an education administrator at the African American Museum in Philadelphia, agreed.

"The African American art community benefited immensely from having Sande take the lead when no one else would. . . . She is one-of-a-kind in the marketplace of established galleries. She has handled many people who have gone on to successful careers. Her voice has been very important to us."

Watson noted that Webster was instrumental in establishing the artist group Recherche, whose members still meet monthly to swap news and gossip. She arranged for black artists to exhibit internationally. And, he said, she brought the work of black artists of national stature, such as Sam Gilliam, to the city.

"So many artists here owe her a debt of gratitude. She'll be missed."

Webster said other galleries in town were also feeling the pinch. Some are charging artists for inclusion in shows at art fairs. Some commercial galleries are becoming cooperatives, asking artists to share the financial burdens of exhibitions.

Partly, Webster said, it is the result of a changing marketplace. Galleries represent a declining share of the marketplace, she said, citing published reports that a growing share of art sales take place at auctions, fairs, and websites, and not directly from galleries.

Rosof, of TheArtBlog.com, said she believed that there had been a change in the way art has been shown in Philadelphia, but that a stealth transformation of owner-run galleries into pseudo-co-ops was probably not a trend. More important in her view has been the emergence of artist collectives as major players on the cultural landscape.

In Liquid and Vox Populi are just two examples of noncommercial art spaces that have a major presence. That was not so much the case only a few years ago, and certainly not so when Webster began showing work in 1969.

Webster in no way attributes her business decline to her representation of African American artists, though she says bias still exists in the gallery world. From James Brantley to Barkley Hendricks, Moe Brooker, Syd Carpenter, and many others, she has consistently been a supporter, despite warnings decades ago that the work would not sell.

"African American art is the hottest ticket in town," she said, "but galleries are still discriminating against African American artists. When I first started, people said, 'You can't show that.' I said, 'Why not?' And they said, 'If black people come, white people won't.' I said, 'How can you say that? You don't even know who I am.' "

They came, all right. But nowadays, people of all colors are coming less and less frequently.

Webster will have all the accumulated work and paper and bubble wrap out of her gallery space by the end of next week. Though she may be exiting the gallery, she is not exiting the art world. She intends to work privately - some sales, some consulting, a bit of teaching and advising.

"I'm excited," she said. "Those that dwell on regret can't imagine the future."