Interview with Eduardo Medrano, Jr. & Alfonso Gonzalez, Jr. of John Doe Gallery

Image courtesy of the artists and John Doe Gallery. Photo: Willie Gomez.

Eduardo Medrano, Jr. and Alfonso Gonzalez, Jr., a commercial photographer and artist respectively, met in a high school airbrush class the two jokingly say they both failed. Now, more than 15 years later, the artists are collaborating on an artist-run gallery space, John Doe Gallery, along with friend Angel Castro. Though Castro did not participate in this conversation, he plays an integral role at the gallery, assisting with installations and maintaining the space. Tucked away in downtown L.A.’s Santee Alley, the gallery represents the streets of L.A. with which the trio was raised and pushes for a future that honors that culture. Location was specifically important to Medrano, who sees “the street” as an identifier of where he and his co-founders come from. Santee Alley—known originally as Los Callejones and more commonly as the Fashion District—holds cultural significance for Mexican Americans as a place where many families gather on weekends to buy fabric, bootleg items, and party supplies.

While many galleries are named after the owners, John Doe subverts this tradition by reflecting the ephemerality of physical spaces and representing a sort of anonymity. Medrano says it’s the pseudonym used by law enforcement to refer to an unidentified deceased person. (Medrano says he often receives emails eerily addressed to a “Mr. John Doe.”) Santee Alley, where some of the labor force is undocumented, was also a target of the Trump administration’s ICE raids this summer. In August, the gallery hosted a benefit show for families affected by ICE, selling prints produced by White Label Editions and featuring works from artists Michael Alvarez, Michael Bardales-Urióstegui, Shizu Saldamando, and Josiah O’Balles, among others.

Two summers after John Doe Gallery celebrated their two-year anniversary, I sat down with Medrano and Gonzalez to discuss how they situate their business within the landscape of the L.A. art scene, particularly in a time when political art is becoming less popular in the art market and the federal government continues to defund any mention of DEI, resulting in a censorship of the arts. When I sat down with the pair, only a few weeks had passed since unprecedented ICE raids first began, and Santee Alley was still feeling the effects. Still, as more and more commercial galleries have closed their L.A. locations in recent months (often citing a declining economy), John Doe is not worried: They continue to build a unique gallery model that is inclusive of friends, family, and community, prioritizing people over sales.

Leah Perez: How did your own experiences as artists influence your approach to this space? What were the types of things that you wanted to course-correct?

Eduardo Medrano, Jr.: I had a photo studio [I was using]… and I thought [what] was really cool about having the studio was just having an open door for friends to come by and hang out. Two years ago I was like, I want to do something [similar], but I wanted to do a space where we could show art and also maybe have a shop where we sell books, zines, [items by] friends that [make] clothes. So I started looking around downtown and I wanted a space that was on the street—then I found this spot. When I got the space, I hit up Alfonso [and] Angel… The idea was just to have a place to be at and hang out and have conversations and show art.

Alfonso Gonzalez, Jr.: I used to organize shows, whether it was art shows with my friends or backyard [music] shows. When there wasn’t a space, we created a space. When I began pursuing my art [practice], there weren’t really opportunities for me to show… You know, tapping into the art world is a very difficult thing. It’s very exclusive and not inviting. [What] I began doing was bringing that DIY sort of thing into just basically organizing shows with friends ‘cause I knew how to do it. I never really thought of myself as a curator or never wanted to have a gallery, necessarily. But when Eduardo opened the space, we started brainstorming programming and that’s how I came to be involved here.

LP: Because you mentioned your experience of the art world as being exclusive, how do you go about combating that here? I know you do barbecues at your openings—how do you see them playing a role in combating art world exclusion?

EM: I think the barbecue thing comes from a very familial [thing] for me. That’s how [we grew up]… Every Sunday or every Saturday there was a barbecue. Every weekend, you know, all my cousins would get together at my grandma’s house. I think doing the barbecue is like an extension of that.

AG: Most commercial galleries are free [to visit]… But a lot of people don’t realize that. [So] I think a very intentional thing that we do is make it accessible [and] welcoming. You know, we invite friends who aren’t gonna spend anything, but just having them here is a win.

LP: I think there’s something super communal about breaking bread with people. Eduardo, you mentioned your grandma handmakes the tortillas, and that’s what makes people feel welcome. And I saw some teenagers here—are they your friends?

EM: [They are] our younger friends. We try to, you know, in some ways hopefully inspire them… We know their dad or their moms, and now they’re here and we’re able to kind of introduce them to the arts.

AG: We try to have programming that involves them too… It’s cool because you get artists that are in their 60s or 70s that we show here, along with kids [for] their first art [show], you know?

LP: How does working with a range of artists (from early in their careers to well-established ones who might have gallery representation) influence how you go about making sales and engaging with the art market?

EM: Whether the market is down or not, it doesn’t really make a difference for us ’cause we’re so early on [in this]… I think there’s a lot of shifts happening, whether it’s galleries that have been around for [20 to 30 years] closing, maybe because of burnout or because of the market slowing down, or because of many other reasons… I think there’s more opportunities to come because of those things happening.

AG: Before last year, I think the art market was booming and I always felt skeptical about it… I saw a lot of mediocre work have success, but I know that that’s not sustainable. […] I think a lot of galleries try to copy what the big blue chip mega galleries are doing. So they’re all chasing the same [collectors]. In L.A., [there’s] way less collectors than in New York. L.A. is booming with artists… [so] then there’s an oversaturation of art with not that many collectors.

The opening reception and celebration of Firme Atelier’s bridal collection, Till Death Do Us Part, held at John Doe Gallery on May 25, 2024. Images courtesy of John Doe Gallery. Photos: Willie Gomez.

Brendan Lynch & Matt McCormick, Enter And Exit Through The Same Gate (installation view) (2025). Image courtesy of the artists and John Doe Gallery.

Mia Scarpa, To Star (installation view) (2025). Image courtesy of the artist and John Doe Gallery

We do [have some] overlap with some [collectors who] have bought here too, but there’s like a whole other group of people who feel comfortable with us, who don’t even know what BLUM [Gallery]¹

is. They don’t know that the market is down, they don’t read ArtNews… They see a cool artwork, and they’re able to buy it… Some of these people that have bought from us, it’s like we understand where they’re coming from…and we could build that trust and that rapport so that we’re not competing with everybody trying to sell to the same 20 people in L.A.

EM: We’re sometimes showing artists that are showing for the first time or emerging very early on and the price points are a bit more accessible. So that opens the door for other artists who want to [buy something to] support an artist or, you know, maybe someone that never bought or collected artwork wanting to buy something here…’cause they want to support the space and the artists.

LP: You also frequently show artists from Mexico; can you speak more to that?

AG: We do a lot of traveling shows. We’ve done stuff in Mexico… We’re working on stuff in Japan. We’ve done stuff in Miami. It’s like basically another DIY backpack, luggage art show. There’s this momentum and energy and expansion… We figure out ways of getting access to space ’cause there’s so many vacant spaces that aren’t being used.

EM: I think [it’s] really important to show in different spaces and bring L.A. artists with us… We did a show here with our friends Yope Projects, a collective from Oaxaca [of] six artists, and then we did a show at their space. They have a small gallery space…and we brought artists from L.A. over there.

I think it’s also very important to have a space to be able to talk and hang out… Sometimes we just bring two [suitcases] full of small works, sometimes it’s rolled up and we’re like, you know, mounting it and stretching it on the spot.

LP: The DIY spirit definitely comes through. What is your advice for your young friends who may want to do something like this?

EM: To find ways to do it without overthinking it. Maybe not like spending a ton of effort [or putting] money into it in the beginning, keeping it very tight… I grinded [the gallery] floors down with my friends… I got $400 bucks and I could rent the machine or pay someone $2,000 to do it. Not only would I rather do it myself to save the money, but it also builds this longer friendship [where] we are all in this together. I remember early on friends of mine putting shows on, on the street [or] under the bridge…things like that. Find a space or build a space.

AG: Don’t wait for permission. I think a lot of artists are like, “Okay, once I get my MFA or once I get my studio, or once I get the gallery, or once I get that studio visit, or once I make the sale.” A lot of that shit doesn’t come, or it takes a long time to come.

LP: There’s never gonna be a right moment. I’ve seen a lot of discourse lately about the fact that L.A. doesn’t have third spaces and it’s especially important right now to have things like this so that people remember that they’re not alone. Our people are making the decision to be outside in the face of violence and celebrate.

AG: Exactly. And, sort of, not hide [cultural] things that inspire us. [Instead] to be proud of it and present it in a way that shows everyone else how important [it is]. It’s not like whiteness [is the only thing that’s valuable]. I think street shit is valuable and it should be included in [our] history and part of the conversation.

LP: I was here for a walkthrough recently, and that was a couple weeks after the ICE raids started in L.A. and the artists were having this conversation about the artist’s political obligation in these times.

EM: I think for me being first generation Mexican-American—and my parents [going from] being “illegal,” then being granted amnesty…and then citizenship—I think the space itself is somewhat political. It’s a place for us to have a voice, to have opinions, to have conversations. This is why we started this space—to show who we are, where we come from and where we’re about and not be afraid of that.

AG: Sometimes, it’s like if you’re working in the studio alone and you see all this going on in the news, it’s overwhelming. It’s like, Wow, what the hell do I do? But when you do it with a group of people and you actually raise real money, and you donate that and give back, then it feels okay. Like there is importance, there is power—we can do something, we can make a change. It’s very difficult to do it by yourself. But that’s the cool thing about the space; it’s like collectively, that’s where [it] happens. We’re gonna continue to use the platform and the space to be able to do that.

Uber Lopez Enamorado poses with his work during the opening of his solo exhibition, Blue Hues, at John Doe Gallery on September 22, 2024. Image courtesy of John Doe Gallery. Photo: Willie Gomez.

Jaime Muñoz (left) pictured at the opening of his solo exhibition, The meaning is the end, on February 22, 2024. Image courtesy of John Doe Gallery. Photo: Willie Gomez.