The Jersey City Independent "

When the Chamot Gallery opens for business next week in a glossy 650-square-foot street-level space in the recently renovated Library Hall Lofts building on Grand Street, it will be the first high-end professional art gallery in Jersey City’s Bergen Hill neighborhood. But its proprietor, Charles Chamot, is hardly a newcomer to the local arts scene.

Chamot, who was born in Lima, Peru and grew up in New York City, ran a well-known gallery of the same name in downtown Jersey City’s legendary 111 First Street artist community for nearly a decade. Like its predecessor, the new incarnation of the gallery focuses on fine American and international contemporary art, like that of Jüergen Wolf, a renowned German artist whose collection of oil paintings on wooden boxes, titled “Variations to chapter 4, houses and cupids, from the little bestiary,” inaugurates the space when it opens on Sept. 23.

Chamot recently sat down with JCI to share his thoughts on Jersey City’s artistic past and future, and his plans to bring high-quality, high-yield art to what could be the next big arts neighborhood in Jersey City.

The original Chamot Gallery was at 111 First Street. What was that space like and what did it mean to you to be a part of that community?

The building was originally the Lorillard tobacco factory. It’s claim to fame was it was the first place where automated cigarette making machines were used. It went through all kinds of changes. During the war it was factories, and then it was storage facilities, and then it became small shops and factories. Then it was empty and [the neighborhood was] very crime-ridden; nobody would go there. I got there after people had been there for about six years, in 1996. I thought, what a great opportunity — there are all these artists here, but a lot of people don’t know what to do to push their own work. So I decided to open a gallery, which was open from 1996 to 2005.

The building had 168 lofts, it was the whole block, and there were a lot of really interesting people there. Different people have different feelings about what that meant. To me it was a great place to interact with different artists. There were people from all over world. And it was a great place to have a gallery. I was able to expose a lot of new people as well as established artists. That’s what I usually did, because new people don’t sell but they need the exposure and established people do sell, and it costs money to run a gallery, so one can help the other.

111 was a big old party house as well. There was all kinds of strange stuff. There was an S&M whorehouse, there were guys farming pot. A lot of people hanker for what they think they had. A lot of people are still talking about it and hashing it over, but you know, it wasn’t that fabulous. … It was nice, it was fun, but it wasn’t what most people remember it being, in terms of having historical significance. But it was fun and it was also creative. A lot of stuff came out of there, a lot of collaborations, a lot of productivity, a lot of mayhem.

The building was razed in 2005 and the artists were displaced, but you stayed in Jersey City.

I left half a year before everyone else. I could see the writing on the wall. Instead of going through all the crap, I thought I’d go do it somewhere else. Meanwhile I met my wife, got married and had kids [now 3 1/2 years and 9 months old].

I stayed in Jersey City because I think it’s a great town. I think it’s really necessary to get the arts more established here. Right now it’s like a bedroom community. Everybody comes and goes to Pavonia and goes to work and doesn’t really explore the actual city, which has a very long history — just as long as New York if not longer. I think it should have world class art, which is what I’m trying to do. There are a lot of artists in Jersey City, there’s a lot of good energy. Which is nice because you have a support system. But there are a lot of young artists, and everybody goes through the same thing. They’ll all do the same stuff, using the same colors, the same forms, the same images, until their personality emerges. That takes a while.

What made you decide to reopen the gallery now, four years later?

I missed it. I missed the interaction with the public. I love showing work, mine and other peoples’. I think it’s really important for people to have the arts around them, especially in today’s world, which is totally diseased. Art is a wonderful part of our consciousness. I can’t live without it, I can’t understand how people do. I understand that people do, because it’s expensive, for most people, and it’s not very accessible. My other place wasn’t on the street, it was on the 4th floor, [but] it still worked, shows were well attended, it got a lot of great place.

Here, we’re on really busy street, and while it’s not an art neighborhood it’s beginning to become one. Artists are always doing the same thing — they go, they find a place, they get thrown out. Which I’m not complaining about. If artists can’t figure out how to fight or be relevant, then they’re not so good.

Where do you see the neighborhood heading?

A lot of people are moving here, especially in the last year or so. There’s something like 13 acres across the street slated to be turned into a park, which is needed because there aren’t a lot of [green spaces]. I believe this is the next thing. Just like when I first moved downtown, people were afraid to go there and now it’s Trump. It’s constantly changing, which is a good thing.

What are your long-term plans for the gallery?

We’re going to show shows regularly, probably every every four to six weeks, and do other creative things. Lenapeeps is right next door, which is a smaller gallery, but nice and very synergistic. We’re probably going to do openings at the same time so we can cross pollinate. There’s room here to show 20-30 pieces, and to do performances. I want to reach out to corporate clients and collectors. I want to sell the work, because artists need money. The artist I’m showing now, Jüergen Wolf, I showed nine years ago, when his works were going for 300 bucks. Now the same ones go for $6,000 to $8,000. I want to bring guys like this. I can’t abide bad stuff.

I want to show serious artists. I don’t care what it is. It doesn’t have to be super contemporary or a fad. I really want stuff that I think has depth and thought, some soul to it — something that makes you think and reflect, as opposed to tabloid art, so to speak — I’m not interested in that. I also have a large print inventory. I want people to have art. So if you can come in here and buy something for $300 that’s great. But I also want to sell things that are more valuable because it costs a lot of money to pay rent, insurance and all that. It’s a business. But you can do both.

Jüergen Wolf Opening/Chamot Gallery Grand Re-Opening
Chamot Gallery
704 Grand St.
Wednesday, Sept. 23
6-10 pm

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