Rebecca Ibel Gallery

This is slightly embarrassing, but for a while, I could not figure out how to get into Rebecca Ibel Gallery. Just so you know, the entrance is on the side, and it’s not the first door or either of the garage doors; it’s the skinny one in the middle, the one with no marking, no welcome sign, no ‘we’re open,’ not even a window to peep in and make sure you’re not about to enter a vortex.
Once in (on my third visit), I felt accomplished, like the attendant should have greeted me with a gold sticker. But, there was no greeting. So, I staked out the gallery. I felt alone and a bit excited, like I had just got locked into the history museum and was about to spend the night.
The art was all contemporary, bright, colorful, usually abstract. I was really drawn to one painting that didn’t seem to fit with the rest of the bunch. It was of a young girl swimming in a murky pond. She was floating with her head just barely above the water. It was very well done, realistic with an innocent quality that snagged me; the ripples were nice too.
There are several sections of the Rebecca Ibel Gallery, and as I meandered out of the first, I spotted the girl who was tending the space. She looked at me and went back to her paperwork without even giving a nod. I began to feel a little cheap. She knew I wasn’t going to buy anything. But I kept looking. I have a right to look.
The art selection at Rebecca Ibel Gallery is alluring, maybe it was just that one particular employee who was off-​putting. I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt. I’d also like to check out the downtown location in the Miranova building.
One star for having a few private parking spaces.

What a weird experience this place was. It’s a little off the street, and even during Gallery Hop I don’t think it gets much traffic. When we entered the place was empty, made emptier by the small pieces of art on display and the stark whiteness of the walls they clung to.
Our entrance did not seem to make a splash, as the curator or who-​ever-​it-​was barely looked up from her computer to acknowledge our presence, let alone engage us in any way.
The art on display was mediocre at best and our chilly reception got the best of us. We literally retreated from the gallery, beaten and demoralized.