And galleries, or some approximation thereof, were ubiquitous. There may have been overflow, and there may have been crap, but we were given the freedom to judge for ourselves. Twenty years ago, the East Village crowd, perhaps despite itself, was responsible for bringing art down from its pedestal and straight to the people. Twenty years later, things downtown are terribly less interesting. What were once gallery-dominated streets are now looking like disjointed strip malls. An entire neighborhood metamorphosed by too many bars, fast food joints, and cell phone depots. The down and dirty scene that embraced and elevated the likes of Basquiat, Haring and Schnabel is no more. To my mind, it’s a sad state of direction. And some would say an inevitable one. Not me. Not anymore. I found hope. And it lives in a brand new throwback gallery on 1st Avenue called Diamonds & Oranges.

Lyon Smith sees potential in buildings that the rest of us would label, well, shit holes. What else would you call a rotting bodega with pitted floors that blatantly served as a shooting gallery for neighborhood junkies? Shit hole seems just about right -- a place I would pass hurriedly by with my head down and hood up, and, be honest, so would you. But not Lyon. Nope, he actually stopped, took a long hard look at the squalor and thought, “Perfect.” One down payment and several months of hands-on hard work later, he successfully conjured up an ultra-inclusive, artist-friendly gallery from the ashes of an abandoned convenience store. The result is something to unabashedly celebrate. D&O is home to an eclectic showcase of paintings and sculpture by some twenty or so artists who, thankfully, refuse to jive with the SoHo/Chelsea aesthetic. Abstract expressionistic work dangles next to drip-painted work propped up next to collage. It is a feast for the eyes and the soul. Even the floors look good. Pits be gone!

Golden Sandals by Sylvie Matt Buchler	Land vs. Water by Noah Rider
Andrew Cunanan by Liberation Iannillo	Siamese & Chihuahua by Kiely Jenkins/M. Henry Jones

And then there’s that tangible vibe like transport back to an era gone. Stepping through the door feels something exactly like walking into a living breathing work of art. And that’s just the way Lyon, and fellow artist-in-residence Noah Rider, like it. Not only is D&O a gallery, it is also their studio, and a dynamic one at that. The monthly artist receptions (read: parties) last well into the night, and the stragglers are almost always kindred painters who come together over smokes and beer for some same-canvas collaboration. Listening to Lyon describe those sessions, my mind immediately went to Basquiat on Warhol. And while D&O is all grassroots, zero high society, I couldn’t help the tacit comparison.

These guys though are accessible (and living). And that’s one of the best parts about the gallery. Visit and strike up a conversation about what hangs on the walls (95% of which is courtesy of NYC-based artists), about the history of the hood, or about Noah’s MetroCard belt buckles. They’re a welcoming duo who are living up to their mission statement: Bring the art back to the people. In fact they’re doing such a good job that some visitors feel comfortable enough to take a second and bag on the place – straight to their faces. Like the old-lady-neighborhood-fixture who insisted that the bodega-junkie thing made for more interesting scenery. Or the teenage skaters who peeked in only to drop questions like, “What is this place anyway? Like, what do you guys sell?” Or, my personal favorite, the irate patron who vehemently requested a pop-art reference to Andrew Cunanan (Gianni Versace’s killer) be altogether extricated – or, you know, maybe just turned upside down maybe.

Lyon and Noah take it all in stride. Actually, they take it smiling. In Diamonds & Oranges they’ve created an art gallery where everyone’s free to judge, even if it’s a comment direct from the hip holster. In accomplishing that, they’ve reminded us what art feels like at ground-level. And with Lyon on the lookout for that next abandoned whatever, the East Village might just be, hopefully, taking a small step backwards. Regression ain’t always bad.

On The Web | www.diamondsandoranges.com