Goth space comes to KuBe
Radical change has transformed Changolife Gallery at the KuBe Art Center. Curator Frank Mesa still represents Cuban artists, but now, a nondescript classroom in the old Beacon High School is painted mostly black, including the ceiling. Blood red enlivens the walls.
The gallery is sharing space with Moon, Serpent and Bone, a cafe and salon specializing in curios, the dark side and spirituality. “It’s a space for people in this community to come together in a casual setting, which is something that’s missing,” says Mesa.
Amy Wilson, his next-door neighbor at Other Worldly Waxes, conducted the makeover. The namesake for the new endeavor is the same as her DIY production company, which hosts a series of pop-up makers markets around the valley.
The opening came closer to July 4 than Halloween because 13 other creepy happenings have emerged to oversaturate the market since October, Wilson says: “Our world isn’t all that big, so this is a pivot. At our shows, we noticed that a lot of people come to just hang out and socialize.”

But she continues with the tried and true. Other brand offshoots include the monthly Full Moon Magickal Market at the intersection of Chestnut and Church streets. The Fire and Brimstone Night Market will come to Beacon on Oct. 24.
The new gathering space’s retail component offers ritual scents and goods with skull and snake motifs. Along one wall, a creepy old doll rests in a vintage pram. The four-seat serving counter is illuminated by three overhead lights that cast a golden glow. Wilson’s menu offers baked goods and more substantial fare.
But the main goal is to host events, some of them free, including seances, tea parties, tarot readings, horror-writing workshops, avant-garde musical performances, movie screenings on Sunday afternoons and spirit readings with medium Nicole Nightfall.
And Mesa’s gallery still sells art. A handful of Wilson’s paintings hang on the walls, including a colorful flapper portrait. But Mesa’s main find, Sheyla, vibes with the space’s new guise. The artist often imposes her own face onto the works, like the horned creature in “Resurrection” sticking out its tongue.
“She has her demons,” he says.
Sheyla’s grotesque neo-Gothic style portrays an exaggerated sense of drama, and perspectives can be askew: In the pen-and-oil on canvas “Horus Without Limits,” a wan human figure appears to hug itself.
At the cafes opening last month, dozens of visitors circulated through the room and the rest of the building. Tattoos and black leather served as popular means of expression. Angelique McGue’s outfit ranged from a large-brimmed hat to boots with 6-inch heels.
Her style also includes a pierced lip and seven tiny star tats on each cheekbone — “spider bites,” she calls them. “I’ve been Goth since high school and dress like this all the time,” she says.
Mesa credits Wilson with everything. “We went for a nostalgic groove, like the old Limelight,” he said, referring to a defunct Manhattan nightclub once housed in a church. “She turned this whole place into a work of art. If I had to put my money on anyone, it’s her.”
Moon, Serpent and Bone is open Saturdays, noon to 6 p.m., and Sundays, 11 a.m. to 5 p.m., at 211 Fishkill Road, Room 308.