Ryan Mocaby was at a crossroads. A second-generation art gallerist living and working in Santa Fe, New Mexico, he had two choices: either take up with a group of investors to start a new gallery there or come to St. Louis. Here, he’d be closer to his roots in Southern Illinois and could collect and sell the art he wanted to. Three years ago, he chose St. Louis, opened Untitled Fine Art on Cherokee Street, and has since been curating curiosities selected to spark interest in both the seasoned collector and passersby. But it’s only recently that he feels he has hit his stride.
“We were pretty eclectic,” says Mocaby, who had worked in galleries with his father since he was 12, as he thinks of how his aesthetic in New Mexico transferred to St. Louis. Untitled Fine Art’s façade is the first and last semi-nondescript thing about it. Inside, black-and-white oil paintings depicting classical figures by local artist Rob Hubbell quietly call out to the visitor. Then there’s the work of sculptor and painter Eric Nauman, chunky blotches of paint layered on canvas, next to a 3D figure that’s best described as a mashup of a toenail and a critter of unknown origin. It’s an amalgamation that aligns closely with Mocaby’s tastes.
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“I had a vision for the gallery,” he says. “I do everything there, so it just seems like it all gets a little more polished the longer I’m open. It took me a couple of years to get the gallery to where I want it.” One piece of the puzzle is working with both established artists and up-and-comers. “You can get an original piece of artwork in the gallery for $60,” he says. “I think that’s important. I don’t want somebody to come in and be intimidated by the price.”
Is it hard for the gallerist to not take home every single piece on display? “I have to leave stuff for the business,” Mocaby says, laughing. The one thing his favorite pieces have in common is that they’re works from his late father. The two had similar tastes. “I have trouble letting go of those things,” he admits. “I have this really big portrait of him that he painted and gave to me. He always told me it wasn’t him, but the painting has Eddie in the title, and his name was Eddie,” he says. “That’s pretty special to me.”
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