Arts Rescue Mission -Aid For Aging Artists
P u b l i s h e d W e e k l y, N e w s, A r t s, & S t o r i e s F r o m T e x a s
Vol. 1, Issue 8, P. 1
Jan. 1, 2026
The Front Gallery on Bonnie Brae
D. M. Allison, January 1, 2026
(word count 1065)
At 1412 Bonnie Brae around the corner from where I live and easy to miss if you aren’t looking stands the home of Sharon Engelstein and Aaron Parazette. It is a modest house, set back from the street, more domestic than declarative. There is no marquee, no signage announcing cultural importance. And that, of course, is the point.
Engelstein’s Front Gallery occupies exactly what its name suggests: the front of the house, sometimes the porch, sometimes the yard, sometimes a space that feels as provisional as it is intentional. It is not a gallery in the commercial sense, nor does it behave like one. It operates on conviction rather than market logic, on curiosity rather than calendar, and on trust, trust in artists, trust in process, trust that the right people will find their way there without being told.
Houston has always had places like this. Not many, but enough to form a quiet lineage. The Beer Can House, assembled obsessively by John Milkovisch, was never meant to be a destination; it became one because it insisted on its own internal logic. The Orange Show, created by Jeff McKissack, began as a private cosmology, an eccentric, handmade monument to health, optimism, and oranges, and only later accrued institutional meaning. In each case, recognition followed persistence, not the other way around.
The Front Gallery belongs to that family of places. It is an insider’s space, known first by artists and only later, if at all, by the broader public. It doesn’t announce itself as alternative; it simply is. Shows appear because Sharon believes in them. Artists are invited because something in their work asks for this scale, this intimacy, this lack of mediation. The gallery does not explain itself. It doesn’t need to.
When I stopped by this evening, I had the time wrong, 1pm - 4pm, I thought 4pm - 7pm, I would have missed it anyway earlier in the day; I was cataloging Ibsen Espada in a storage locker. Sharon was away. The light was fading, the porch half in shadow, and for a moment my encounter with Aaron was an unscripted surprise, a "hey neighbor moment" rather than an art visit. That, too, is part of the Front Gallery’s grammar. You arrive as a person first, a viewer second. You look around not because you are told to, but because you are curious.
Inside, the current exhibition, "Ni Howdy" by Lotus Bermudez, occupies the space without overwhelming it. The work draws from Bermudez’s Southeast Texas and Cantonese roots, blending ceramic traditions, personal history, and cultural memory. The wall text speaks of ancestry, geography, and the desire to open dialogue rather than close meaning. It is thoughtful, grounded, and generous. But the Front Gallery does not frame the work as a statement to be consumed; it allows it to exist as part of an ongoing conversation.
That distinction matters. In a city increasingly shaped by fairs, openings, and short attention spans, the Front Gallery resists urgency. It does not chase relevance; it accumulates it slowly. Its influence is quiet but durable, passed along in conversations, recommendations, and word-of-mouth routes that don’t show up on maps. Engelstein has earned a reputation as a visionary not by branding herself as one, but by showing up again and again, with clarity and care. The Front Gallery is not a platform; it is a practice. It is a reminder that
some of Houston’s most meaningful cultural spaces have always lived just off the main road, embedded in neighborhoods, sustained by belief rather than funding cycles.
You don’t stumble into places like this by accident. You find them because someone you trust tells you where to turn, or because you’ve learned to look for the small signals, the porch light, the open door, the sense that something is happening quietly inside. And once you’ve been, you carry it with you, like a local landmark that doesn’t need a sign.
About the show:
"Ni Howdy" features a series of ceramic sculptures that the artist hopes will serve as a catalyst for dialogue. Celebrating the craft of ceramics. The work is a blend of the artists Texas and Cantonese Roots opening new perspectives on multicultural identities in Houston. These works, funded in part by the city of Houston and the Houston Arts Alliance through the Support for Artists and Creative Individuals Grant gave the time, focus, and energy to Express gratitude to Lotus’ ancestors and let her Express her voice and the work that has been floating around as dreams in her mind. The project opens perspectives of the identity by culture and geographic location.
I have never extensively shared my heritage story artistically before and now I find myself wanting to create a series to explore my deep SE Texas and Cantonese roots. I am exploring sculptural ceramic forms that are influenced by growing up along Dickinson Bayou, my love of historical Southern ceramics (such as George Ohr and Texas Stoneware), and listening to stories of my hardworking, extended Asian family. My great grandfather was a coolie on two railroads and grandparents had the first Asian grocery/import store in Dallas, Jung's Oriental Food and Gifts. Now as ceramist, wife, mother, and business owner I am voicing my narrative of what it means to me to be Tex-Asian in the 21st century. What I will enjoy most about sharing my work with others is offering the next generation an understanding of the paths that were laid before them so they can blaze their own trail.
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Lotus Bermudez is a Southeast Texas native and multi-cultural third generation Chinese American with three decades of experience in ceramics. She is a ceramist, educator, clay community advocate and co-owns Third Coast Clay, a Houston based ceramic studio. Bermudez received her Master of Fine Arts in 2004 and was mentored by Huey Beckham and influenced by Luis Jimenez. She is a 2025 Jones Artist Award recipient from Houston Endowment, 2025 and 2023 artist granted from Houston Arts Alliance through the City of Houston, creator of the World's Largest Clay Tools sculpture sits on the board of the Texas Clay Festival. is a former Artist-in-Residence at the Houston Center for Contemporary Craft, worked on multiple ceramic public art installations with Houston SPARK Parks (two of which were with the Houston Museum of Fine Arts), and former chair of Empty Bowls Houston
Engelstein’s Front Gallery occupies exactly what its name suggests: the front of the house, sometimes the porch, sometimes the yard, sometimes a space that feels as provisional as it is intentional. It is not a gallery in the commercial sense, nor does it behave like one.