Midtown Kingston’s metamorphosis from a corridor of derelict garages storefronts into a humming hive of artistic activity has, of late, reached something of a crescendo. In the past year alone, we’ve seen the Center for Photography at Woodstock land a gleaming new home on Dederick Street, the International Museum of Dinnerware Design set a table on Broadway, and the Center for Holographic Arts beam its way into our dimension with a rainbow shimmer. Now comes 68 Prince Street Gallery—a lovingly reimagined space that was once a dry cleaners.
It’s the latest addition to the Kingston cultural constellation and the result of a six-year labor of love by Paula and David Kucera, who have slowly and methodically transformed the property on Prince Street into a 1,800-square-foot contemporary art gallery with aspirations as large as its walls. “We didn’t come in thinking, ‘Let’s open a gallery,’” says Paula. “We just knew the space deserved something more interesting than, say, a warehouse for cash machines.” (A real offer. They declined.)
The Kuceras, both artists themselves, imagined a place where large-scale sculpture and immersive painting could coexist with small, intimate works—artist books, prints, performance pieces, and the kind of weird, ambitious stuff that often gets squeezed out of the white cube. Enter curator Alan Goolman, known for his programming at the Lockwood Gallery in West Hurley, who saw the potential and jumped. “It’s sculpture-driven,” he says. “We’re building a place where objects—and the conversations between them—can breathe.”
The gallery opens Saturday, April 26, with “Symbolic of the Whole,” an exhibition of paintings and sculptures by New York artist Francine Tint, on view through June 8. An opening reception will be held from 4 to 7pm.
Tint, a former costume designer for David Bowie and Ridley Scott, turned full-time painter in the early ’70s after a series of personal losses nudged her toward abstraction. Her work, radiant with color and muscular gesture, is held in the permanent collections of over two dozen museums including the Neuberger, the Heckscher, and the Portland Museum of Art. Tint’s career is long and storied—but her sculpture, though powerful, is rarely shown. Goolman spotted a few small bronze pieces in her studio and asked if he could build a show around them. “People who know her were thrilled to see the sculpture—it’s like a secret coming out.”
The exhibition unfolds across the gallery’s back room, where Tint’s sculptures converse with her canvases in a duet of form and color. “They make each other better,” says Goolman. “The dialogue between them is real. You feel it.”
The smaller front room of the gallery is dedicated to artist books and prints. This program is overseen by book artist and curator Maureen Cummins, who brings heavyweight connections to the world of handmade books and paper art. “I didn’t realize how vast the book art world was until Maureen opened that door,” Goolman says. “It’s global. It’s alive. And it’s beautiful.”
There are plans for more than just exhibitions. The Kuceras envision a gallery that functions as a community node—a place where college students and emerging artists can exhibit, where performance and installation can happen without compromise, where young artists can get their shot. “It’s in the DNA of the space,” says Goolman. “Mentorship, experimentation, giving emerging talent a platform—those are priorities.”
And then there’s the outside. Behind the gallery, a large open space is being outfitted with a patio and sculpture pads, creating an outdoor exhibition area. “We’re building this so people can linger,” David says. “Barbecues, music, hanging out with art. It’s not a temple—it’s a playground.”
As Kingston’s art scene continues to sprawl and specialize—Roundabouts Now by the Thruway entrance, Monument on West Strand, Headstone on Hurley Avenue—68 Prince Street Gallery doesn’t feel like an outlier. It feels like a natural extension of the city’s evolving cultural topography: smart, serious, welcoming, and still a little scruffy around the edges.
This article appears in April 2025.
