You know a gallery is a nexus of civilization when the Minister of Culture himself exhibits there. In June, Joyce Gordon Gallery hosted the prints of graphic artist Emory Douglas, who held that title in the Black Panthers and was responsible for the artwork in its newspaper in the 60s and 70s.

When downtown Oakland’s first Art + Soul festival debuted in the summer of 2001, it had one sponsor, one stage, and one small crowd. Yet the weekend festival steadily grew each year after. By its 10th anniversary, Art + Soul encompassed 10 city blocks around Frank H. Ogawa Plaza and City Center, and MC Hammer, En Vogue, and CAKE headlined in honor of the special occasion. More than 25,000 people came—Art + Soul’s largest crowd.

You know a gallery is a nexus of civilization when the Minister of Culture himself exhibits there. In June, Joyce Gordon Gallery hosted the prints of graphic artist Emory Douglas, who held that title in the Black Panthers and was responsible for the artwork in its newspaper in the 60s and 70s.

John Francisco works hard to keep the legacy of his brother, Mike “Dream” Francisco, alive. Dream, a prolific Oakland graffiti artist, was the fatal victim of an armed robbery in Oakland in February 2000. His murder left behind a hole in the Bay Area hip-hop community and also an infant son, Akil.

Miriam Infinger’s family loaded up their trailer and headed West from Illinois, finally settling in Alaska, where she grew up alongside the boy who would eventually be Sarah Palin’s pastor.

Like the rabbit hole that transported Alice, the hallway goes on and on, leading visitors to an equally curious destination at its terminus: An art gallery that is not for profit, but not a nonprofit; with time and skills donated by artists, yet it is not a collective. It has no business model to speak of, but draws its inspiration from The Big City, an installation piece created in the early 2000s by its director, Joell Jones, which included “a place where all people could gather and do creative work.” Nebulous and always evolving, it is Oakopolis Creativity Center in Oakland, aka Oakopolis Gallery.

Like the rabbit hole that transported Alice, the hallway goes on and on, leading visitors to an equally curious destination at its terminus: An art gallery that is not for profit, but not a nonprofit; with time and skills donated by artists, yet it is not a collective. It has no business model to speak of, but draws its inspiration from The Big City, an installation piece created in the early 2000s by its director, Joell Jones, which included “a place where all people could gather and do creative work.” Nebulous and always evolving, it is Oakopolis Creativity Center in Oakland, aka Oakopolis Gallery.

Dr. Farnaz Shadravan, D.D.S, spent 10 hours a day, six days a week for two years etching Albrecht Dürer’s apocalyptic images into four bathtubs with her dentist drill, to honor John the Baptist.

Agana, a female graffiti artist and hip-hop Dj in Oakland, shares her artistic insights and influences.