It was going to be proof positive that art could thrive in Cincinnati's hinterlands. November 1996 saw the opening of Dileia Contemporary Gallery with the exhibition SORTASORDID, featuring work by local artist Mark Fox. The brainchild of Matt Distle and Kristin Rogers, Dileia was in a vacant Camp Washington meat-packing plant. Dileia offered a brash blast of eclectic arts programming. Here was proof that young artists could create new opportunities to show their work. Until now.
A postcard exclaiming "I Told You It Wouldn't Work" announced Dileia's closing July 4th awards ceremony. Last year Dileia replaced long-running exhibitions with a series of monthly events. Distle says the decision to shut down was made months ago. The supporters who gathered at Dileia one last time already knew the end was coming. The news stung just the same: Cincinnati's boldest arts experiment was over.
"I never expected to sell a lot of artwork and make it a profitable venture," Distle says, sitting on a worn couch in the gallery's back room. "It was always meant to be more of a clubhouse than a gallery."
Camp Washington will retain one arty resident. Artist Mark Fox remains in his studio and black box theater space on the floor above Dileia. But Dileia stood as an artistic symbol for neighborhood urban renewal. In a city that grows increasingly banal, Dileia was a rare opportunity for something remotely underground and chancy.
Distle insists news surrounding Dileia's demise need not be so bleak. The 26-year-old artist plans to return to his guerrilla roots with a gallery-without-walls project called Dilemma. Collaborations are planned with other like-minded artists for stunt shows, wrestling events and entering a car at Hamilton County Fair's demolition derby. Listening to Distle talk about a cyberspace gallery is exciting. None of it will compensate for the pessimism felt by young artists after Dileia's demise.
The expectations were appropriately high. Dileia was going to prove that there's more to Cincinnati's arts community than the "Big Eight." Camp Washington would emerge as a hip alternative to the more established gallery scene along Main Street. Finally, local artists could count on support from a gallery that emphasized exposing new art over making sales. In an arena becoming more bottom-line oriented, Dileia was a grassroots effort at artistic hipness. After Rogers relocated to Cleveland, Dileia kept going. But despite its inexpensive rent, Distle was unable to continue funding the gallery space out of his own pocket.
"It's amazing, because we did sell artwork and stayed open for three years," Distle says. No deep-pocketed angel stepped forward to save Dileia.
Little has changed at the corner of Massachusetts and Marshall avenues in Camp Washington. No other arts establishments ever joined Dileia. The gallery's out-of-the way location built its esoteric reputation. After closing its doors, one wonders if Dileia was too cool for its own good. Its funky, industrial environs also kept away the consistent foot-traffic that would have made the gallery successful. Dileia's closing leaves Cincinnati with another wasted opportunity for urban renewal. Was it so hard to imagine Camp Washington as an artists' colony? Maybe some neighborhoods are destined to be eternally gritty.
It has become Cincinnati's vicious cycle: failing to support young artists and keep them locally based. Although it's clear Dileia made an impact on the local arts scene. Semantics Gallery at Brighton Corner and Emily Mazzeo's Sanctum Sanctorum, an exhibition space located inside her Over-the-Rhine apartment, follow in Dileia's adventuresome footsteps.
Will the power brokers behind Cincinnati's art community miss Dileia now that it's gone? Distle's gallery experiment remains Cincinnati's best opportunity for becoming the eclectic, urbane city it pretends to be. And Camp Washington? This unlikely arts neighborhood has lost an opportunity for a new lease on life.
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