Esteban Sabar Gallery

Why would anybody hate on something free, let alone a free art gallery? If it’s not good, turn the channel. Freedom of speech is free to all — including the haters I suppose…
Esteban Saber’s space is something out of left field. It has arched doorways, tight spaces, and unusual artwork. I love it! Just navigating the space was a thrill in itself. I can’t wait to see what this gallery has to offer in the future.

LOVE Esteban and his tall red platform heels. LOVE the art (most of the time), and a great location.
Check out his office– that’s where he stashes all the best stuff. Always a fresh flower arrangement at every Oakland Art Murmur open house!
My favourite exhibit was the paintings and drawings of the naked male form. Very unusual and beautiful. Rare to see and great to experience.

We saw some great pieces and Esteban was so warm and friendly.

I love love love this gallery.
Esteban has great taste in finding amazing artists to exhibit their work at this urban art gallery. There is a large selection of artistic styles and it’s located at the Art Mecca of Oakland. Marty McCorkle’s work is gorgeous, I own one of his pieces named «Wish». Marty, you inspire me!

Went here for the first time during last month’s Oakland Art Murmur, mostly because i wanted to escape from the freezing cold sidewalk. Was pleasantly surprised by the large space and airy layout of this gallery– a big change of pace from places like Mama Buzz and RPS around the corner. I thought the combination of artists complimented each other nicely — pieces have enough space to «breathe» and aren’t crowded on the walls. You can find everything from architectural sketchings to blown glass to many Oakland-​inspired works to Lichtenstein-​esque paintings of Bethany Ayres (my personal favorites at the gallery). Their website provides a handy overview of artists before you arrive.
It’s just too bad these are higher-​priced pieces I could never afford (although the art here is worth every penny). Otherwise I’d become the patron of many of Sabar’s featured artists in a heartbeat.

Ok, so my three friends and I were by far the preppiest people at September’s Oakland Art Murmur (a first-​Friday-​of-​the-​month event where a bunch of Oakland galleries have openings and some others just open their doors to the public… oak​lan​dart​mur​mur​.com), but we still had an awesome time, and though I trust «BL“‘s opinion more than I do my own, I just wanted to say that I *really* enjoyed a few of the artists shown at Esteban Sabar – I could barely bring myself to walk away from paintings by Marty McCorkle and Albert Hwang, and my friends were really into Sue Averell’s stuff. Sure, the works at ES weren’t as «innovative,» but they sure were a heck of a lot nicer to look at (than, for example, the Smörgåsbord exhibit at Rock Paper Scissors, which was awesome in its own way, but not particularly my cup of tea). But that’s just my opinion – as Lavar Burton used to say on Reading Rainbow, «Don’t take *my* word for it.»

This is a joke of a gallery and I do not understand the people who like it or its artists. There, I said it. I’m risking great scorn and derision, but I really think this gallery deserves it.
This place has the most distasteful curatorship I have ever seen in my life at a gallery (besides Jr. High shows where *everyone* gets their chalk pastel self portraits and still life’s masking-​taped onto upright cafeteria tables), and yes, I’ve been to local, international, and underground galleries on 4 continents. That is NOT to say that I’m very well-​traveled and know everything about art, but rather says that I’ve seen many quantities of crap, internationally, and this place takes the cake.
First off, the Esteban Sabar Gallery is completely out of place in the community of Oakland collective start-​up galleries who stage Oakland Art Murmur (First Fridays), and though I am not aware of a grand Murmur board meeting that dictates that participating galleries must support diversity, the community, collective efforts, the art itself versus the establishment, it is pretty obvious that there is a conflict in interest.
RPS, Ego Park, Mama Buzz, Boontling, LoBot, 21 Grand, and 33 Grand (RIP) are clearly all about innovation with materials, experimentalism, culture, activism, and the underground. Esteban Sabar reeks of boring San Francisco canvas-​on-​a-​wall boxed-​wine-​in-​a-​plastic-​cup grazing meaningless for-​sale rich-​kid-​in-​private-​school music-​teacher-​in-​tye-​dyed-​schrock mediocrity.
I do not look down on the place because it exhibits painting and drawing only, or because the works are for sale, or because of its audience that ostentatiously sticks to its own threshold and doesn’t bother to explore the neighboring galleries. Okay, I admit I slightly do. But the main completely ridiculously obvious fact is that about 90% of the work within the gallery is the most stereotypical crap art I’ve seen — the kind I’d parody in college and high school, the kind we’re all guilty of when we’re taking beginner’s classes and don’t know what the hell to illustrate.
PLEASE go see it for yourself. The paintings aren’t going anywhere. Out of the 10-​or-​so rooms in the maze-​like layout (the one thing I like about the place), the paintings merely rotate month by month. What, do you think I’ll be blinded by the olé’ switcharoo and won’t smell the stench? Please go see the crude, off-​shape, ugly figure drawings of graphite on newsprint. Please go see the humpback whale of blue and white acrylic poster paint leaping out of water in the night sky of purple and gold glitter on canvas. Please go see the dove bought at Michael’s or Pier 1 glued onto a canvas and painted over with pastels smeared together to make clouds that are supposed to be from heaven.
Please go see the worst of the worst: The guy who has occupied the back room in 2 of the last 6 months of rotations. You’ll recognize the monstrosities by their flesh-​toned blobs of oil paint and cartoonish eyes that look attemptedly narrative in nature and contain a lot of exposed cocks. You can even close your eyes and find it – the artist will be there explaining very loudly that his intricate process involved taking a photograph, splitting it into a grid on his laptop, zooming in by several hundred percent, and specially lighting both canvas and laptop to reinterpret the photos, square by square, onto canvas, the ultimate art ever produced.
I’ve gone through some classic symptoms with this place: mockery, more mockery, frustration, anger, disbelief, and now I’m back to mockery. I do hate art snobs, but I’m sorry to say that I look down on anyone who likes or supports this place.