Five years after its founding, and four years after moving into their Little Italy annex, Whippersnapper Gallery has decided to move on. The non-profit gallery, which boasts a strong DIY, youth-centric ethos, first emerged as an accessible venue for emerging artists. While still in school, co-founders Luke Correia-Damude and Patrick Struys were disheartened by the limited opportunities for their creative friends. They watched as local artists struggled to find venues that were both affordable and allowed the artists to maintain creative control, citing cafes and schools as the only real options for young artists. In many ways, the internet offers a valuable alternative, allowing anyone with enough time and intent to broadcast their work. But there is something immediate and intimate about the gallery that the internet is still unable to imitate- a sentiment both Luke and Patrick seem to appreciate.
Then both barely out of their teens, Luke and Patrick decided to open their own space for showcasing their friends’ talents. They convinced a landlord of an abandoned Front Street property to lease them the space for free, in exchange for their labour and care. With the help of friends, they cleaned the place up and transformed it into a gallery, exhibiting art by over fifty artists in their first show. The overwhelming response to that first show confirmed their suspicion that they were filling a void in the local community.
After countless events and exhibits, featuring work in a range of different media, the team behind Whippersnapper has decided to move on to something smaller and more curated. Don’t worry, though- they’re intent on maintaining the accessibility that they’ve become so popular for. They’re also seeking funding as an artist-run centre, which would provide long over-due relief to a host of staff that has worked for free up until now.
To commemorate the closing of Whippersnapper in its current location, the gallery hosted a final farewell party, appropriately named “The Funeral.” Guests were asked to wear black, there was an “in memorium” grafitti tag on the wall, and the photobooth at the entrance allowed models to pose inside wooden caskets. Despite these somber details, the mood was unmistakably joyful, celebratory instead of mournful. Whippersnapper may not reappear as its former incarnation, but there’s no doubt that the people involved will contribute much more to the local arts community.
