1-800-ART4YOU: Celebrating Cleveland’s Smallest Exhibition Space, Phone Gallery

If you find yourself lost or alone, in need of a quick phone call, a smart phone may be the only option. According to the Federal Communications Commission (FCC), there are no functioning public pay phones in Cleveland. The only telecommunication companies that provide active services to Ohio focus on pay phones that are located within prison systems for contacting the incarcerated.

Earlier this year, John Pana of Cleveland.com went on the hunt to find Cleveland’s surviving pay phones, encountering remnants of previous boxes, parts that had been repurposed for nostalgic decoration, and, finally, arriving at the final location: Cleveland Hopkins Airport, Concourse C, Gate 18. He was met with silence, a dead line. Chipped paint and torn wire—left behind from a bustling system of pay phones that once dotted the city’s streets and provided a reliable source of communication—might whisper the sound of a dial tone, but the digital realm moves on too quickly to hear it. Infrastructure is often built with a sole purpose, and what function does a pay phone serve when it has been stripped of its intended feature?

Breathing new life into an unsuspecting alcove of Cleveland’s Waterloo Arts District, the Phone Gallery playfully interacts with the bygone era of sliding another nickel into the coin slot when the call was running longer than one had expected. The pay phone box sat dormant and phoneless on the side of Russ’ Auto Care, 15302 Waterloo Road, until 2013, when freelance architect Allison Lukacsy-Love and Project Pop-Up Galleries artist Ivana Medukic transformed the space into an unconventional mode of exhibiting Cleveland-based artists within the miniature container.

It began as a temporary project, funded by the Kresge Foundation, as just one part of a major overhaul of vacant spaces within the Northeast Ohio region. Lukacsy-Love and Medukic took on the challenge of disassembling sprawling cords and cleaning decades worth of drive-by graffiti, displaying their own work and unknowingly fostering a network of artists who would communicate their interest in the project.

One artist became dozens, and word quickly got around that there was an open call for regional creatives to host their own solo shows. Lukacsy-Love and Medukic installed a lightbulb in the box—running directly through the automotive repair shop’s electricity—and developed an application system, despite Lukacsy-Love stating that rejections are few and far between. Today, openings to display works are typically booked months in advance.

Lukacsy-Love, now serving as the director of the Cleveland Urban Design Collaborative (CUDC) at Kent State University, took over the project after Medukic moved away from the area. She maintains the original goal of creating an informal environment for artists to emerge onto the scene without the need of an established portfolio or local credibility.

“[Phone Gallery] is a space for emerging artists [and] artists that are exploring new disciplines,” Lukacsy-Love said. “I’ve had artists that have said ‘I’ve always worked at this massive scale’ and so the challenge of doing it in a confined space is new and exciting.”

Her main motivation in keeping the gallery alive is its 24/7 accessibility. Conventional galleries may require a call to make an appointment, or have limited hours that can be difficult for some individuals to work around. Public art captures a person’s wandering gaze and brightens the local community at no cost to the viewer, eliminating the intimidation that comes with entering an unfamiliar setting and enlivening the surrounding area.

“The fact that you might be going from point A to point B, and now you’ve discovered this thing on the way; there should be a lot more of that in our urban realm and public spaces. I think there should be joy [that is less] destination based.” Lukacsy-Love said.

Installations vary and depend on the artist’s approach to tackling the restrictive room, ranging from sculpture to photography—and everything in between. As Phone Gallery has grown past its infancy as an ephemeral operation, the exhibitions have become bolder and reflect an evolving artistic, and social, climate.

Notably, artist Marlene Weinstein acknowledged the history of the pay phone in her exhibit, How it Was, by creating a series of vignettes that showcase previous generations of public phones. A phone resembling the one that had likely been installed before it was decommissioned hangs in the center of the collage; she pondered the concept of younger generations having little knowledge of what a pay phone was and observing the box as a gallery, nothing more. Her homage to the past was the first of its kind, and her artistic path serves as a testament to the wide array of creatives that find solace in Phone Gallery’s open-arms philosophy: a medical professional who left the field to pursue an MFA—now working as a teaching and practicing artist. Fate is ever changing and may not resemble the future one had initially imagined; for a phone box and a human being, this is a shared experience.

Hailing from MTV and Nickelodeon fame, Tom Megalis’ 2019 Phone Gallery installation, I Can Start Tomorrow,featured a well-dressed mixed-media puppet living in his claustrophobic container. Megalis’ puppets date back to his work as a stop-motion puppeteer, and have also appeared in his public murals and commissioned large-scale pieces around Northeast Ohio and elsewhere in the United States. His attachment to the Cleveland arts scene drew him toward the relaxed, authentic character of Phone Gallery: he is an artist who has it all, but chose the quirky pay phone box to display one of his pieces.

Elena Flores, known by her alias KWOLL, is a freelance artist and a recent graduate of the Cleveland Institute of Art with a BA in Painting. As her mentor, Lukacsy-Love approached Flores shortly after her graduation with the proposition of submitting a design to Phone Gallery. It was the ideal setting for her to explore site-specific sculpture and reflect upon her past works, leaning into the challenge of utilizing a cramped box to express a particular idea or concept. She exhibited in the gallery during March and April of 2025 with her show dreem grl—a peek into a fantastical inner world hiding behind the plexiglass. She approached the project with the intention of creating an intimate view of her creative mindset.

“I wanted to give the perspective of somebody looking into your sketchbook,” Flores said. “[It’s sort of like] stepping into somebody else’s dream. The figure itself was exploring the topics of isolation or [thinking] within your head, because I think a lot of the biggest problems I had as an artist emerging out of the CIA was trying to establish a studio practice and some consistency.”

The appeal, in Flores’ opinion, is its ease of access to her and those who wish to view her work. An artist that is attempting to find their footing may cower in fear at the proposition of submitting to a major institution or exploring the larger art world—especially artists that are a part of underrepresented groups or simply refrain from entering the public eye. She notes that these worries are mirrored onto the audience, who may not align with the formalities of attending an opening to a show and interacting with large crowds of gallery aficionados.

“I find it kind of intimidating just to walk through the door in the first place and have a conversation with the artist and the gallery owners there,” Flores said.

Though it remains open to the dangers of theft and destructive vandalism, she did not fear any person or group harming her work; however, she was concerned about the natural elements taking a toll on the unprotected paper clay sculpture and thin sketchbook pages that were pasted onto the inner walls of the enclosure. Flores accepted the risks in order to yield the reward of contributing to a space that values public art, claiming that “people could steal whatever they wanted; I made it [as] a regurgitation, recycled ideas.” Two months of exposure to sunlight, snow, and rain did not deteriorate her project, as it sits proudly on her desk to commemorate the achievement.

Phone Gallery embeds confidence into artists through Lukacsy-Love’s determination to steer clear of hierarchical processes in exhibiting works of art. Abandon all one knows and engage with creativity in its purest form, unbound by consumerism—see oneself in the reflection of the glass. Flores admires the conversational aspect of the gallery, believing in its ability to connect humans without the need for face-to-face interaction.

“It’s a very unassuming thing, and I think there’s something kind of whimsical about randomly encountering a tiny gallery,” Flores said. “It’s important that everyday people can walk by it, [learn something] from it, and engage in more community-like thinking rather than just passing something by.”

By way of collaborations with other local organizations, Phone Gallery solidifies its legacy within the Waterloo Arts District. It promotes its street neighbors, such as Praxis Fiber Workshop, and participates in the many events organized by Waterloo Arts, like the 2020 Inside Out project, which transformed Collinwood Street into a pandemic-safe exhibit. Lukacsy-Love touched on her partnership with Zygote Press in 2014, when their Print-a-Go-Go bicycle was lent to the gallery for their one-year anniversary celebration. She was ecstatic that visitors could screen print custom Phone Gallery merchandise thanks to the assistance of Zygote, viewing the repurposed, utilitarian object of a pay phone as analogous to a bike that was now functioning as a portable printer.

Lukacsy-Love does not profit off of the gallery; these partnerships stem from a genuine effort to keep originality alive. She periodically repairs the box and plexiglass out of her own pocket and continues to pay the small monthly fee to the auto shop for electricity. Her dedication was tested, as threats to the gallery came in the form of a $200,000 city-wide effort to remove all non-functioning payphones from Cleveland in 2017, claiming the boxes were a “nuisance.”

She, despite not having any legal authority over the pay phone, felt unnerved by the legislation but stood beside it, determined, and argued for its purpose within the visual culture of the region. If she was to be approached by someone who was interested in purchasing the gallery, she would practice extreme caution—treating it as a gem to be protected at all costs.

“It is virtually indestructible,” Lukacsy-Love said. “People put a sticker on the side of the box or scratch it, but that was part of the found-object status of the box to begin with. There has always been that sort of graffiti that has always existed there [and] whatever art is inside almost elevates it to this precious status object.”

Her vigilance is appreciated and recognized amongst wider audiences. Many find that the gallery brings a smile to their face and plays a significant role in their enjoyment of Walk All Over Waterloo each month. The absence of the pay phone would remove the cultural history and everlasting color that it provides to the region: “it would make things a little more gloomy,” one visitor said.

Once a pay phone and now a symbol of expression, this current reincarnation carries the echoes of pitstops and broken-down cars. Phone Gallery will be 13 years old this year, and Lukacsy-Love has expressed no interest in giving up on the project any time soon.

“I think part of its success is that it isn’t a commercial opportunity,” Lukacsy-Love said. “It is my passion project to meet other people’s passion projects where they are.”

As of April 2026, the next available opening to show in Phone Gallery is January 2027. The max display size is 11 inches wide X 22 inches high X 6 inches deep. All applications and inquiries can be directed to ali.alithearchitect@gmail.com.

Kylee Herrick is a fellow in CAN Journal’s Broadening the Conversation program for young writers, which is made possible by a gift of Wallace Lanci and grants from the Cleveland Foundation and the George Gund Foundation.  She is a student in the art history program at Cleveland State University.

A PARTIAL RECORD OF EXHIBITS AT PHONE GALLERY
As recollected by Ally Lukasy-Love. Additional exhibitors at some time during Phone Gallery’s thirteen years include Jessica Pinksy, Stephen Bivens, Duvall Ivory, Tina Meeks, and Charley Frances Burns.

2020
December–January: Tom Megalis
February–March: Aja Dandridge
April–May: Tonya Broach
Inside Out Project: Alexis Morton
July–September: Emily Metzger
October–November: Sagree Sharma

2021
February–March: Tekikki Walker
April–May: Rebecca Groynom
June–July: Laura D’Alessandro
August–September: Daniel Kearsey
October–November: Kathy Morris Bakhshi

2022
January–February: Nick Lee
April–May: Angela Snyder
August–September: Frank Hadzima
October–November: Stephanie Stewart

2023
December–February: Chrystal Robinson-Shofroth
March–April: Lori Brumfiel
May–June: Jordan Mastrocola
July–August: Patrick Arthofur
September–November: Dylan Rundle

2024
December–January: Chey Jeffries
February–March: Allison Hennie
(Renovations in April w/ Doug Holmes)
May–June: Emma Walker
July–August: Becky Hoelter
September–October: Rebecca Groynom
November–December: Rebecca Groynom

2025:
January–February: Nicole Condon-Shih
March–April: Elena Flores
May–June: Marlene Weinstein
July–August: Robert Palinkas
September–October: Arron Foster
November–December: Scout Bach

2026
January–February: Laura Tuokkola
March–April: Ian Rapp

Upcoming Artists to be Featured (Until January 2027)
May–June: Shannon George
July–August: Nicole Carroll
September–October: Claudia Berlinski
November–December: Lovena Grillot