All photos by Allison Ekevara / The Aperturist
“When I was growing up, the space was empty the whole time.” And as it stands, Sixth Street resident and photographer Reynaldo Ruetas Cayetano Jr. will be seeing the storefront gallery where his collective Inks of Truth created a community art project stand empty once again.
“No one’s even been back in to turn off the lights,” he told the Guardian when he stopped by our offices last week. On August 6, Inks of Truth was holding a release party for its new zine – until the owner of 135 Sixth Street (which also houses the Sunshine Hotel, an SRO) stopped by to kick everyone out.
Cayetano grew up across the street from the DA Arts building, which occupies a central space on Sixth and Minna streets. It was once a liaison office for the city’s district attorney, filled with file cabinets. But the space became a creative hub in 2006 when Tenderloin Housing Clinic started leasing it to display art by local residents.
Years of gallery shows culminated in THC turning artistic control of the space over to Ujima Artists, a group that hosted four to five shows before, THC artistic director Patrick Flanagan remembers, members began squatting in the small space, which faces onto Sixth Street and has massive windows.
“It was a total party scene,” says Flanagan, who told the Guardian he ignored the misuse until he found crack vials in the gallery. Ujima Artists were kicked out, but the PR damage done to the gallery may have been too late to correct.
But Cayetano was ready for his crack at DA Arts. He contacted Flanagan, and within a month Inks of Truth had cleaned out the space. Mikio “Ears” Rose airbrushed galaxy designs across the walls, and on April 1 of this year, the group held a block party that attracted young artists, older Sixth Street residents, and everyone in between. On the gallery walls: black-and-white photos of the neighbors that rendered Sixth Street in all its grittiness, but also showed all the striving and community on the block.
“Not everyone can just go in there and have this community event. Knowing how my neighborhood is, I wanted [the people that live on Sixth Street] to be comfortable,” says Cayetano.
Inks of Truth made a concerted effort to include everyone – not just artists and conventional art lovers, but the low-income elderly folk and those dealing with addiction. The gallery became a space for those who’d never shown an interest in art before, passers-by excited by their likenesses on the wall asking collective members where they could get a camera of their own.
Cayetano says his events rendered the neighborhood become a more inclusive place. “Basically, every time we had a show at DA Arts we all had a hood pass.”
But was the gallery’s owner impressed by the changes taking place on his ground floor?
Apparently not. When Flanagan, Cayetano, and Inks of Truth member Chris Beale attempted to set up a meeting with the owner of DA Arts and the Sunshine Hotel about extending THC’s lease on the place past May 28, Surajnaben Indrasinh Solanki was less than enthusiastic. In fact, he would hardly get back to them at all.
“The guy’s not saying anything. He’s not even giving us an offer,” says Flanagan, who along with the Inks of Truth members left phone numbers and messages for Solanki at the Sunshine Hotel’s front desk to little avail. (The Guardian had a similar experience – Sunshine Hotel staff would hang up on us when we called to speak with Solanki, and leaving contact information in person at the front desk didn’t yield a call back).
Eventually, the three managed to set up a meeting with Solanki on August 1. When the day came, he stood them up.
“It reflects his style of overseeing that space,” says Cayetano.
Later that week Flanagan (who lives across Minna Street at the Rose Hotel and flips the lights on at DA Arts every evening to illuminate the corner and the art inside the gallery) ran into Solanki. “He told me not to go into the space, that we weren’t supposed to be in there, and that’d he call the police.”
Which Flanagan could have done – but he didn’t. “The ball’s was in his court,” he told the Guardian, frustrated that Solanki wouldn’t communicate with the Inks of Truth team about the future of the building. “So I said, let’s keep putting on shows.”
When asked why he thought Solanki didn’t express any interest in the young people holding their events at DA Arts, Flanagan had two theories: that the owner is reluctant to get involved in any more leases because he’d like to be able to sell the building (which is in a SF Redevelopment Agency project area), or maybe because he was wary of Flanagan’s history as a tenant organizer.
At any rate, Flanagan told Cayetano to go along with the previously-scheduled zine release party.
So they did – and for a few hours, Inks of Truth and the rest of Sixth Street got to see their images published and bound (you can too – go here for a copy of Sixth Sense). That’s when Solanki finally showed up, yelling for everyone to get out.
The collective grabbed everything from the gallery – framed photography, boxes of zines, the bottles of red wine that were being shared, everything but the Best of the Bay award they’d won the week before – and migrated across the street to Rancho Parnassus, a cafe that’s hosted Inks of Truth shows in the past.
There, they rearranged the photos on the cafe tables and regrouped. Cayetano hyped the group up for October’s Sixth Street art walk, and reassured everyone that Inks of Truth would still have a presence on Sixth Street, with or without DA Arts.
Reflecting on the tribulations the collective has undergone, Cayetano’s not ready to let go of his dream of bringing pride to his neighborhood. “We’re not here just to have a show and disappear,” he says. “Sixth Street is the heart for me.”