Thanin Viriaki
To someone who doesn’t know Greg Dow, isn’t aware of his unique expertise, his long-running art gallery may seem like just that and only that.
Not that Dow Art Galleries, a Camp Bowie landmark whose roots date back nearly a century, isn’t impressive. Paintings, prints, etchings, sketches, drawings and watercolors — by artists near and far, contemporary and long gone — cover the walls, their nearly perfect symmetry broken up by the occasional sculpture or antique piece of furniture, all of which, by the way, are for sale.
But hidden behind two rickety doors and down a long hallway of this 1947 building is a cavernous room with sky-high ceilings — a fortunate feature, as it turns out. This is Greg Dow’s workspace, and his tools of the trade fill every inch of his large shop, right up to the tip-top of the ceiling.
Greg Dow is one of the city’s most well-known art dealers, but he’s also a practicing artist himself, specializing in the increasingly rare craft of art restoration. In North Texas, Dow stands out as one of the few capable of repairing not only frames but also the works they protect. From filling in miniscule pinholes on portraits of grandma to repairing a sizable rip on a high-dollar 18th century European painting, no job is too big or too small for Dow — a mantra his family business has recited, as of this year, for nine decades.
“Three generations,” Dow says. “We’ve had the same phone number for almost 100 years. The phone company once tried to change it, and we said, ‘You’re not taking our phone number.’” [An extra “33” was eventually added as a prefix as the city grew.]
Dow has spent the majority of his life within the walls of this shop, learning — starting at the age of 12 — the art of art from his father, Donald, who, in turn, learned it from his father, Percy. An author, too, Dow is considered one of the preeminent authorities on early Texas art; his gallery has hosted dozens of exhibitions from local and regional artists.
“One of the things I love about art is learning the origins of a piece,” he says. “I love to do research. I love to talk to people. I love to hear their stories about their pieces. Every day here, you never know what’s going to walk through the door.”
Oftentimes, Dow says, it’s someone who wants a new frame for their favorite picture or painting. “Their frame got damaged in a move or maybe they just want a new frame for an older piece,” he says. “Maybe the original frame doesn’t go with their new house or design.” Chances are, with mountains of frames to choose from, he can find a replacement frame easily.
Thanin Viriaki
“That’s how I acquire a lot of these frames,” he says, pointing at a pile that literally reaches the ceiling in his shop. “People want new frames, and I ask them what they want to do with the old ones and they say, ‘I don’t want it; you can have it.’ At some point, I’ll find a new home for it.”
Dow can also repair frames, filling in their missing or broken pieces with wood, gesso, and other filler materials, and repainting them to match the original, even highly carved frames with Rococo intricacies and Victorian whooshes.
The greatest demand for Dow’s workmanship comes from local families who want to restore family heirlooms.
“What people bring me is priceless to them,” he says. “Nine times out of 10, it’s something of sentimental value — a painting of a family member, a painting by a family member, a favorite picture, something they value tremendously, something you can’t put a price on.”
Depending on Dow’s workload and the needs of the job, a restoration can take weeks or months. Many paintings, he says, simply just need a good cleaning to bring them back to life. In those cases, he uses a wide range of solvents to remove grime, dirt, dust, discolored varnishes, and overpaint.
For significantly damaged pieces — rips, holes, missing pieces of paper or canvas — Dow undertakes a meticulous restoration process akin to surgery, employing a diverse array of tools — from delicate tissue mending techniques to the precision of a scalpel and the gentle touch of Q-tips — to fill, repair, refine.
“It can take some time,” he says. “Especially these days when I’m backed up with projects. But we’ll get it done.” Dow guestimates he’s handled thousands of restoration projects.
Dow’s family business is rooted in Depression-era Fort Worth. In 1935, Percy Dow, Greg’s grandfather, purchased the J.T. Brown Frame Shop in the W.T. Grant building downtown. Percy had acquired a taste — and knack — for picture framing and repairing while working at another frame shop.
“He might not have made it if some pretty big customers hadn’t come along,” Greg says, noting Amon Carter Sr. and Sid Richardson called upon Percy’s services. “Matter of fact, at the same time my grandfather opened his place, Amon decided to remodel the Hotel Texas, which he was a co-owner of. He wanted to put three framed prints in every room, and my grandfather got the order. That got my granddaddy’s name out there in a big, big way.”
Six months after opening, Percy was making $150 a week — good money during those troubled times.
Beginning with Percy, the Dow family has often been at the mercy of a growing city, Greg says. The original shop was booted from the W.T. Grant building due to a building redo, then lost another space on Monroe Street due to the construction of the federal building. After 15 years at 1207 Throckmorton St., Dow says the family was evicted to make way for Tarrant County Convention Center. A tough year in a small west Fort Worth space followed, nearly closing the shop.
Thanin Viriaki
“Finally, in the summer of 1970, my dad was driving along Camp Bowie when he saw this place, which used to be a carpet company,” he says. “He managed to buy it, and we’ve been here ever since.”
Today, he contends with traffic issues brought on by the current retooling of Camp Bowie between University and Montgomery streets. “Development has always followed us around,” he says, laughing. “This city is constantly changing, constantly growing. We’re just honored to still be a part of it after all this time.”
While the business has been handed down from one generation to the next, whose hands it’ll fall into once Greg retires remains to be seen. Neither of his two daughters have interest in taking over the business, although one of his daughters, Jennifer, worked there for a while before she embarked on a career in the financial industry.
At 70, Greg says retirement is still years away — but he can’t help but wonder who’ll take the reins.
“What I’m really hoping is that one of my employees takes it over or someone comes in and buys it and keeps it going, similar to how my grandfather acquired it,” he says.
“There’s no lack of business, that’s for sure. There was a day last week when all I did was take orders; I didn’t get any actual work done,” he says. “There will always be a need for people who can help other people hold on to their history and memories.”
Dow Art Galleries, dowartgalleries.com
