Against all counsel, Karen Sherwood opened an independent gallery in Hillsborough in 1991. 35 years, more than 10,000 artists and countless brews later, Cupola remains one of the city’s most welcoming creative spaces.
“I always say a temporary fit of insanity,” replies Karen Sherwood with a laugh when I ask what inspired her to open Cupola Gallery. “But the reality is I’ve wanted to open an art gallery from the age of 15, bizarrely. My friend Jeni and I would design some of the first art centres, with dedicated spaces for art, fashion, independent cinema, restaurants and even stress relief rooms … we were ahead of the curve!”
I’m sitting with Karen – an instantly warm and likeable character – in the front room of her gallery on Middlewood Road. It’s a veritable Tardis-like warren of artistic talent and creativity, with four rooms and a splendid sculpture garden currently displaying the work of more than 150 artists. There’s plenty to catch the eye: from Alison Dunn’s oversized leather Mega Boob hanging in the Craft Gallery to Alexander Johnston’s Straita 1, a geometric wall sculpture assembled from thousands of individually cut wooden slats.
It turns out that the idea for Cupola wasn’t born from spotting a gap in the market so much as running headfirst into a big problem. When Karen graduated with a fine art degree in the late 1980s, she found herself looking for somewhere to exhibit her work in a city that had produced generations of artists but remarkably few places to show contemporary art.
“I could not find anywhere. People said, ‘Oh, there’s the university library,’ or there was a tiny gallery in Crookes, but I couldn’t even get an A1 portfolio through the door there. There’d been an art college in Sheffield for 150 years, there were working studios, but nowhere to show or sell contemporary art. I thought, ‘This is ridiculous.’ People kept saying to me, ‘It’ll never work in Sheffield,’ and I was thinking, ‘It’s the fifth largest city in the country. What the hell is going on?'”
Determined to prove there was an audience, Karen and fellow printmaker Shaeron organised an exhibition in the flat she was renting above a butcher’s shop on Wostenholm Road. They designed and screenprinted invitations before handing them out anywhere they could think of.
“We took them to church, we took them to the theatre, I harassed people at bus stops. In the end, loads of people came. We had free alcohol, which probably helped, but people bought things too. The work wasn’t expensive, but it was unusual, and people don’t buy things just because they’re cheap. They buy them because they like them.”
The experience helped to convince Karen there was room for a contemporary gallery in Sheffield. However, finding anyone else who agreed proved another matter.
“The bank almost patted me on the head. Business support didn’t understand the concept of an art gallery because you couldn’t buy it, mark it up and sell it off. I even contacted the Arts Council and they said, ‘We’ve supported so many galleries that have gone down the swanny. We don’t bother anymore.’ I thought, ‘Oh, that’s inspired me with confidence.'”
The breakthrough arrived from somewhere unexpected. Following the death of her grandmother, a check arrived for around £15,000 a year later. Around the same time, she’d met the owner of the picture framing business on Middlewood Road who was planning to emigrate to Alaska.
“I suddenly thought, ‘Blimey, I wonder how much he wants for the business?’ Perhaps a picture framers could subsidise the gallery? Maybe I could make that work.”
The asking price was £10,000. Karen negotiated to pay £6,000 upfront and the rest during her first year in business. The landlord offered favourable rent if she took the neighbouring unit as well.
“I ran off to Scotland to get married, came back, learnt how to picture frame in a fortnight and opened an art gallery,” she recalls, still sounding faintly amused by the whirlwind nature of it all. “It was completely bonkers, really.”
With a seemingly inexhaustible amount of energy expended in a short space of time, things fell into place and the doors opened in 1991. But there’s a wry smile as she adds, “and then came the cynicism.” Karen remembers putting out a call to Yorkshire Artspace inviting artists to submit work. Just one did.
“The thinking was it couldn’t be any good if it was in Sheffield and it certainly couldn’t be any good if it was in Hillsborough. I was like, ‘I beg your pardon?’ People said there was no money in Hillsborough. I said, ‘Hang on. People buy houses, kitchens, holidays and cars. What do you mean there’s no money?’ They’d say people wouldn’t choose to spend it on art, but if you’re never given the choice, how can you decide what your taste is?”
That determination to challenge assumptions still defines Cupola Gallery today. Karen talks less about selling artwork than she does about removing the invisible obstacles and presumptions that stop people walking through the door in the first place.
“The biggest barrier to any art gallery is often the door because people assume galleries are posh and unwelcoming,” she sighs. “But look: there’s free cake every Saturday, we’ve got Lego for children, we’re dog friendly. There are things here that cost thousands of pounds and there are things for a couple of quid. We’re here to deliver the pleasure principle: this is joy and it’s personal and it’s for everyone.”
Over the years, this dug-in philosophy has created as many memorable stories as exhibitions. During the huge disruption caused by the Supertram works in the early 1990s, when businesses across Hillsborough struggled simply to stay open, construction workers would often stand outside looking through the gallery window.
“I said, ‘Come in and have a look,’ and they said, ‘We’re mucky though.’ They came in, I made them a cup of tea and they wandered round. A few months later one of them came back in and said, ‘You don’t remember me, do you? I’m one of those builders you invited in. You weren’t rude to me and you didn’t patronise me.’ It’s just shows you how important those experiences are.”
Another poignant encounter has stayed with her even longer.
“There was a man stood outside for about 10 minutes. Eventually I opened the door and asked if he’d like to come in. He said, ‘I didn’t know whether you’d ask me to go away because I might not be the kind of person you want in your gallery.’ That just broke my heart.”
Listening to Karen, it’s clear that interactions with customers matter just as much as the exhibitions themselves. Over the years she estimates they’ve exhibited work by more than 10,000 artists. Plenty, like ceramicist Edmund de Waal, have gone on to international acclaim. Others have remained part of the Cupola family for decades. Several artists from the gallery’s earliest years are exhibiting alongside first-time contributors in the current show.
“I’m not here to be the arbiter of taste,” she tells me. “I’m interested in showcasing people’s creative talents and I love showing the diversity of art. Creativity is absolutely essential. There’s not a culture on the planet that exists without music, dance, poetry and some form of visual art. If that doesn’t tell you it’s a fundamental need, I don’t know what does.”
The gallery itself has grown organically over time. What started as a picture framing workshop gradually expanded into neighbouring rooms, while Karen and her family moved upstairs to make space for more exhibitions below. The sculpture garden followed once the building became entirely dedicated to the gallery.
There have been personal sacrifices too. Karen speaks candidly about putting her own artistic practice on hold while raising her two sons and running the business. It wasn’t until a customer lent her a caravan in Seahouses for a much-needed break that she rediscovered painting.
“I went away for 10 days, did 22 sketches and I’ve not stopped since.”
Now, Cupola’s anniversary exhibition 35 Years brings together an eclectic mix of work in what she cheerfully admits is a busier hang than usual.
“I wanted to show as many people as I possibly could because that’s what the gallery has always been about. I want people to come in, have a cup of tea or coffee, wander round and take their time.”
The celebrations continue with a free party on Saturday 30 August featuring live jazz, Persian food from local restaurant Antler and, inevitably, Karen greeting visitors with the same enthusiasm that’s carried Cupola Gallery through recessions, roadworks and changing fortunes over the last three and a half decades.
“All people have got to do is have a drink, enjoy the art on show and put up with me wandering round going, ‘I love you all.’
“Now, that’s not such a bad deal, is it?”
