The Orchard / Galleries on 25 Opening Reception
489 25th St, Oakland
November 15, 2025
The galleries are growing: watch out!
Well, watch out as in stop in this coming First Friday to the latest addition to 25th Street’s bustling homegrown art scene. Brought to the neighborhood by local art vets Peter Dreyfuss and Jan Watten of Jingletown’s Gray Loft Gallery, The Orchard / Galleries on 25 held its opening reception last month, welcoming art lovers of all feathers.
Yulia Pinkusevich’s “Sacred Fires” paintings.
Featuring two solo exhibitions in the front spaces, Yulia Pinkusevich’s entrancing, swirling, highly saturated and lightly abstract canvases to the left upon entrance, Nemo Gould’s found-object delights, filled to the brim with character, to the right—and nearly a dozen more stalls of individual artists reaching far back into the 6,000 square foot space, the crowded reception made for a noisy and slightly difficult way to take in the works. Unless, that is, you found yourself alone in a “room”, the makeshift walls absorbing some chatter and allowing for a more intimate experience with the art.
A sampling of Nemo Gould’s “Misappropriations”.
An undercurrent of desire to push beyond the drab, muted tones of so much of daily life and to dive into the fantastical pulsed beneath the surface of many of the works.
Simone Simon
Simone Simon’s luminous canvases (they nearly breathe: check out comic artist Rita Sapunor’s piece from February featuring Simon’s work here) benefitted from the vaulted ceilings and brightened space.
Detail of Shimanek’s wool, left, and the Dreyfuss Duo, right.
The live jazz, courtesy of the Stephen Dreyfuss Duo, was similarly heightened by their surroundings: tucked in a cozy corner surrounded by Meghan Shimanek’s plush, fluffy wool weavings.
Top row, left to right:: Suzy Barnard and Lisa Levine. Bottom
More color burst forth from Suzy Barnard’s fresh florals, the dizzying, repetitive city scapes of Lisa Levine’s mind and camera, as well as Fernanda Martinez and Fernando Reyes’ eye-popping, richly-hued botanically inspired designs.
Peter Dreyfuss
Seeking some calm, I was lucky enough to have both time alone — well, devoid of human spectators, that is, but this gal remained quite quiet (if not erm, contained) — and with the maker on hand, in Anja Ulfeldt’s darkened cavern of a cubicle. Tucked away at the rear of the enormous warehouse, Ulfeldt’s space beckoned even before entry: a foot-high, soft gray feather gently fluttered, but not just with a passing breeze.
Ulfeldt with chicken, tiny trees.
This was electric, as were a handful of the other kinetic found-object sculptures inside. Darling in their unconventionality, playful and lovely mixes of the organic and the manipulated, each held a quiet restraint and power, a duality that breathed life into the dead twigs and tinsel. Each a perfectly lit tree in miniature, tossed in chains, their tiny delicacies casting complex shadows, they are landscapes from another realm in and of themselves.
A soft energy buzzed from a curtain of chains. If you catch them from the periphery you can see sparks—or so I was told. No such luck for my bespectacled stance, the electricity so unobtrusive that the feathered friend on the floor remained entirely unruffled, posted up mere feet away.
My low-light reverie over, I wound my way back through the bustling business of art appreciation and celebrations, more than ready to return for the next show.
