BmoreArt

Ed Istwan

Kim’s partner

What first comes to mind when describing Kim is some version of this special word: kind. Out of that one word a torrent of lovely words follow… open, positive, warm, radiant, loving, happy, joyful, gentle, enthusiastic, caring.

And somehow these perfectly pleasant words all seem like small descriptive failures. How to apply words to Kim’s smile? It was a smile available to anyone, and it was genuine, perennial, and infectious—especially when followed by her playful, up-to-no-good giggle. But although there are these words—we wish only for that smile. It spoke for itself.

The first time I saw that generous smile was one sticky, humid August day as she and I awaited orientation at the Maryland Institute, College of Art. At our table of four, I remember Kim not talking… at all. Instead, she took in and absorbed all of our excited, likely idiotic chatter. How many 20-something visual artists do you know who would rather listen to others than talk about themselves? Not many, I assure you. Despite all the forces at work neither of us would have known that we were meeting each other’s fortunate life partner. We remained happily together, best friends, for the next thirty years.

Kim’s studio at MICA smelled intoxicatingly of paint thinner, beeswax, and coffee. She had the comfiest sofa, and her studio door was always open. In this studio, she made mysterious paintings which seemed impossibly alchemical. They were simultaneously built and also conjured—the result of smart planning and happy accident.

Kim yearned for a career in the arts, where she could make a real difference for artists like her here in Baltimore. That dream came to fruition one day in 2005 when she was hired to be the Public Arts Administrator at the Baltimore Office of Promotion and the Arts. This is where the story gets really interesting for all of us who followed it… in the next decade and a half Kim threw herself totally, selflessly, and completely into her work—co-conceiving and producing the Janet & Walter Sondheim visual artist prize, curating countless Artscape visual arts exhibitions, overseeing and managing the spectacular multi-million dollar Light City festival which lit up our beautiful Inner Harbor for several years, and updating and implementing the city’s Percent-for-Public Art program.

My personal favorite of Kim’s projects were the delightful kids’ tents for the Book Festival, because they were so much more joyful than they ever really needed to be, reflecting Kim’s happy high standards. Later, she worked hard at establishing the operational infrastructure, creative direction, and yes—even opening a cute little store for The Peale—Baltimore’s fledgling community museum. And like her smile, much of what she accomplished was miraculously free and available for anyone wanting to enjoy it.

At the heart of this Kim understood the power of nurturing promising local talent, of respect, of sharing—and in togetherness. She got to know people and invested in their time, energy and talent. She developed deep, lasting relationships and called in plenty of favors. She never allowed herself the time to get caught up in vanity and wisely chose gratitude instead. She asked for so little—so little—and deserved so very much.

And it is here, where all those words—the ones that I said seem like small descriptive failures—begin to make better sense when placed alongside Kim’s humble tone-setting approach. Tenacity gets tempered with kindness. Curiosity happily lives right alongside enthusiasm. Intelligence gets all mixed up with joy. This is the dancing, thriving, spirited alchemy we all loved about Kim. Perhaps this is to be her legacy but only if we allow ourselves to learn from Kim’s example. If we choose to be a bit more kind. If we crack open our hearts and get our brains to operate more like Kim’s, we might discover that it costs us nothing. We might prove that in doing so we get back so much more in return.

Lou Joseph

Friend and Colleague

I worked with Kim at BOPA from 2014 to 2018, sharing an office in our old space on Baltimore Street. As office mates, we got along well, Kim sharing stories of her and Ed’s latest find at an estate auction, or her asking me about what new things my kid Gabe was doing.

We also could sometimes annoy each other, me, by having my headphones too loud, and Kim, by chewing ice when she was stressed out by a project. I learned a lot from Kim, from the nuts and bolts of managing art projects for festivals, calls for artists and Artscape planning, to bigger picture things, like seeing how she treated artists with true respect and managed her projects so thoughtfully.

We were planning on co-curating the Sondheim Semifinalist exhibition at Artscape this May. We thought it would be fun to work on it together. I was definitely looking forward to teaming up, both for her enthusiasm and because Kim had co-founded the program in 2006. We liked the idea of her returning to the Sondheim in her role as Chief Operations Officer of The Peale, where the exhibition will be this year.

Kim truly loved working with artists and enabling them to do their best work, something I’ve tried to keep in mind in my own projects. She was also very humble and did not want to put herself above the artists she worked hard for. I think reading these tributes she would be partially embarrassed at being celebrated but also touched to know the work she did mattered.

Michael Weiss

Artist

While Kim was an indelibly influential presence on many aspects of the Baltimore art scene, what I remember the most is her smile, her laugh, and her wickedly funny sense of humor. It was always lovely to speak with Kim whether in a quick pass at an event (or preparing for one) or during a longer conversation in a more intimate setting. I feel lucky to have had her in my life since our years in graduate school together and am glad we had opportunities to reconnect after she returned to Baltimore.

Ashley Molese

Friend and Colleague

When Kim passed back in March, I immediately thought of the Good Fortune Sticks she gave. They were a gift of congratulations for finishing my MFA thesis. She had been my advisor then; but in the privileged thirteen years that I knew her, I had the pleasure of being her friend, colleague, mentee and co-conspirator for good art things.

In the ten years since I received them, these silly toy oracles provided some comfort when I needed an answer on something. It was less about the fortune itself and more for the comfort of feeling connected to my dear friend in those moments; seeking clarity in the form of an object that’s become a vessel for her and her kind, generous spirit. They offer me little in this moment of making sense of her sudden death; I worry that even as a source of inspiration to find the language to describe this feeling, I still fall short.

What an immense, compounding loss of all that I knew her to be: an incredible mind, a truly generous heart and spirit, and above all else an unwavering advocate for Baltimore and its artist community. She adored her family, her friends, and the community she helped cultivate. And if you keep looking around the city, you’ll see her in lots of ways.

I’ll always think of Light City as my baby, but I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. There was no Light City without Kim Domanski. Like new parents, we feverishly agonized together over making all the rights decisions. More than anything, we wanted to do right by Baltimore and its artists. She knew instantly what a game changer it was, and for the huge opportunity it could become for the whole city. So in 2015, when I was hired to manage the curation and production side of Light City, Kim and I became enmeshed in what we saw as some of the greatest work we could do at BOPA. When I got there in January, she was all the way in and rolling up her sleeves, and it was a privilege to build that work alongside her.

“Ash, you have to remember how hard it is to just do something.” Her empathy usually spoke first; whenever I’d get frustrated or let down by something, this was her guiding advice. No one will know all the things you don’t do, and there will be lots of voices telling you all the ways you could have done it better. Between those two polarities, is the creation of something new to the world. This became our singular, shared mission—put out as much innovative, monumental art as we could. Kim and I curated over sixty Light City installations together, more than half of those were brand new works by Baltimore artists. We were both immensely proud of this work, and for the three years we collaborated kept scheming up new ways to push that a little further.

I’m forever grateful for Kim’s bullish integrity, her tenacity as an arts manager made real things happen. Her belief in doing good work was infectious. It’s almost easier to try to make sense of her loss by remembering the work first, mostly because there’s so much she accomplished. Just like Light City wouldn’t have happened without her, there would be no Sondheim Prize without Kim Domanski. The bulk public art projects at Artscape, stewarding the public art collection for the city of Baltimore for over a decade—all Kim.

Whether she curated it herself, or helped guide the vision, her fingerprints were everywhere. There are millions of other tangible memories of our friendship. My Good Fortune sticks, a photo of us from my wedding. But then there’s the intangible ones, like the conversations we shared or a very joyful dance party we had the night before our first Light City jury. We bonded over DiPasquale’s. She’s the first person to rave about Schitt’s Creek before anyone else cared about the Rose’s or adopted catchphrases into their nomenclature. She was a painter and an encyclopedic historian of art and design; she knew when something was good and had merit, and when something was total shit. She could see immediately if an artist took themselves and their work seriously.

She could sense when an artist was stuck and just needed some belief to push through to something even better. And she would find ways to support their growth because she was eager for their prosperity. I know there are hundreds of artists in Baltimore and beyond that can probably remember a time when Kim Domanski made a mark on their practice. Some of them reached out to me to say so, remembering her when they read of her passing.

I’m still not ready to say goodbye to her, instead I keep rattling this cardboard box and dumping out fortunes to no comfort. So, until that time comes I’ll simply say that she loved with total abundance. She cherished all the things that brought her joy. She could be silly and deadly serious, quiet but completely ferocious. She was and is so many things. And she will be dearly missed.

Bruce Willen

Artist

An encounter with Kim was always like walking into a ray of sunshine. She made the daunting seem effortless and even fun. Kim was a true champion of public art and someone who worked tirelessly to elevate and support Baltimore artists.

I worked closely with Kim at Light City 2018 on our installation “Some Thing in the Water,” which was a technically complex array of programmed underwater lights and sound that our team (Post Typography and PI.KL) designed and fabricated. During the installation, we were figuratively and literally in over our heads. Unexpected challenges required last-minute troubleshooting and improvisation. I was running on high anxiety, but Kim was always a calm and reassuring presence, even when we were probably a pain in the ass.

She had that rare combination of get-shit-done efficiency and easy-going attitude that put people at ease. When I think of Kim, I’ll always picture her smiling.

Nancy Proctor

Peale Museum Colleague

When I arrived at The Peale on the Saturday morning of Artscape, a beautiful poster greeted me in the lobby with Kim and Ed’s smiling faces. It is a lovely portrait of them both surrounded by flowers and Ed’s colorful paintings. Kim is wearing her green dress with the pink dress pin that Ed had given her, and looked so happy.

I couldn’t help but cry as thought about how much she had poured into Artscape over the years, not least in her last months. As soon as it was clear that Artscape was going to happen in our neighborhood this year, she suggested that we offer to host the Sondheim Semifinalists exhibition at The Peale. Once that was confirmed, she worked tirelessly with Lou Joseph, Tonya Miller Hall, and so many others to ensure that the artists and their artworks would have the best possible showcase at the heart of the festival, in sight of City Hall.

As kind and sensitive as Kim could be, she was also fierce in ensuring that the art got its due. No effort was spared, no detail too small to make an exhibition sing. Marnio Cuerva and LeRease Clark followed her lead and produced a spectacular installation of the Sondheim Semi-finalists’ show, one that Kim would have been immensely proud of and grateful to her colleagues for.

As the visitors streamed in and out of The Peale on Saturday and Sunday, I teared up again, thinking how happy Kim would have been to see the place so alive, knowing that the Sondheim artists were getting such a large and appreciative audience. It was a bittersweet Artscape for sure, but also a fitting tribute to one who gave so much love and energy to Baltimore’s art and artists.

John Suau

Executive Director, The Peale

Though I only had the briefest opportunity to work with Kim Domanski before her passing, it was immediately clear to me that her vision and dedication helped shape the cultural landscape of Baltimore. On behalf of The Peale, I express our deep gratitude for her years of service to the city’s creative communities. Her legacy lives on in the public art and programs she championed — and in the hearts of all who continue that work. It is an honor to follow in the path she helped forge.

Paul Daniel

Sculptor

It is a shame about the loss of Kim. She was an integral part of BOPA in the active days. She was great coordinator in helping me install large outdoor sculptures for Artscsape. I exhibited three sculptures in 2014 on Mt Royal Ave and had one major kinetic piece, Kiko-Cy, on the St Paul’s Street median in front of Mercy Hospital from 2007 to 2016. Kim was my contact during that time after Gary Kachadourian left BOPA. Kim was always easy to work with, and the best part was that she encouraged artists to do their thing without interference. For that, I will be eternally grateful to her. RIP.

Amy Eva Raehse

Colleague and Curator

There are some among us—a precious few—
who carry a light not born of this world.
Who seem not merely born,
but briefly entrusted to walk among us
as selfless emissaries of art.

Kim Domanski was one such light.

For more than three decades,
Kim moved through Baltimore’s creative landscape
with quiet brilliance—
unassuming as breath,
constant as starlight.

Empathetic and humble,
she made joy feel effortless
and compassion inevitable.

Her collaborations were wide-reaching,
her passion unmistakable,
her commitment to lifting others—boundless.

Kim never sought attention;
Instead, she quietly and generously redirected it—

She never needed the spotlight.
Instead, she was the stagehand of grace,
the one who made the light fall just right
on someone else’s moment.

Kim tended the soul of Baltimore’s art scene,
not for self-praise, “likes,” or recognition,
but to help beauty take root
and kindness flourish.

And when we lost her,
the air itself changed.
The city grieved.
Those of us who knew her,
and those touched by her presence,
felt the sudden stillness
where her quiet power had been.

But grief, we learn,
is love that endures beyond presence—
and Kim gave so much love
that even now,
she continues to shine.

Quietly revolutionary and
immeasurably generous,
Kim left an indelible mark on Baltimore—
a city forever shaped
by her rare and radiant soul.

And her light—
too rare to fade—
remains.

Catherine Borg

Colleague, Curator, Friend

It was devastating to learn of Kim passing. I was looking forward to seeing the Sondheim exhibition I heard she was curating, knowing it would be a kind of full circle moment—and looking forward to celebrating that with her.

Kim was the first curator to show my work in Baltimore—in 2013 in the Sondheim semifinalist show at MICA during Artscape. But I was traveling that summer so didn’t get to meet her then.

And our paths continued to cross over the years, but it was not until the fall of 2022 that Kim and her generous dedication to the arts and artists in Baltimore came fully into view for me.

Kim came on board to lead operations at the Peale shortly after their grand reopening and while I was shepherding a Spark exhibition run and schedule of programming there. From then on, I understood what she was about—immensely faithful to her work, and to people, and willing to go above and beyond behind the scenes again and again.

I curated another Spark exhibition in 2023 and after spending so much time at the Peale and with Kim and Daisy, it took on the feel of a second home. I think this was also in no small part due to the trust and care Kim shared with me, and a collective comfort working hard behind the non-profit arts curtain.

With the Balancing Act exhibition at the Peale, it was fantastic to see Kim flexing as a curator again. I remember thinking at the time how glad I was that curating was becoming a part of her role at the Peale. I wish we had the chance to see everything that she must have been conceiving.

How apt she ended up at The Peale where her light was shining bright. I’m grateful to be among those who got to know her and will never forget her.

Jack Livingston

Friend and Colleague

When I moved here from Houston in the late 1990s, my first job was at Artscape. It was there that I met Kim, who helped transform the unwieldy endeavor into something special. She was a delight from the start—a wonderful combination of sharp dedication and bubbly enthusiasm. I was not a great art handler, but Kim was patient and showed me the ropes.

Soon, I had other opportunities thanks to her. We worked at various times alongside her partner, the artist Ed Istwan. We all grew close. Over the years, Kim has made significant contributions to this city’s art scene and community. She was an insightful, wise innovator who preferred to stay out of the spotlight while solving problems and making things happen.

One-on-one, she had a feisty sense of humor punctuated by a trilling laugh. OK, I admit it. We loved to gossip too, and I cherished her wicked wink-wink knowing repartee. We are all utterly heartbroken that she is gone, that we won’t see her again, but look closely around town; her mark is everywhere. Kim was a unique Baltimorean treasure.

Gary Kachadourian

Friend and Colleague

Kim and I first met in 1996. She was in the Mt Royal grad program at MICA and signed on to do a one day a week internship for Artscape exhibitions. That year the exhibition program was even more complicated than usual and already drastically behind schedule with one project in particular being more difficult and behind schedule than all the others. It was a project where over 100 artists were making 300 aluminum sign panels to be installed across the city on street lighting poles. Kim started working on this and quickly went from one day a week to probably 80 hours a week.

Honestly, I’m not sure it would have gotten done if she hadn’t shown up and taken it on with such focus and abandon. At the time I remember thinking that she was meant for this kind of work. If a project was over ambitious and had an unreasonably short deadline she all in. Ten years passed before we worked together again. That was when she came to work at BOPA where one of her first projects was to co-create the Sondheim Prize. She was a natural born exhibitions coordinator.

Tonya Miller Hall

Mayor’s Office, Senior Advisor of Arts & Culture

We are deeply saddened by the passing of Kim Domanski, a visionary artist and tireless advocate for Baltimore’s creative community. While our professional paths may have only brushed against each other like sliding doors, Kim’s body of work and unwavering commitment to artists speak volumes about her foresight and transformative impact.

Kim’s visionary thinking helped shape the Sondheim Artscape Prize into a powerful launchpad for countless artists, providing them with not only recognition but also the confidence and resources to thrive. Her legacy is etched into the fabric of Baltimore’s arts community — a testament to her dedication, brilliance, and belief in the power of art to uplift and unite.

The arts community mourns this profound loss, even as we celebrate her many remarkable achievements. Well done, Kim, and thank you for your service.

Rebecca Alban Hoffberger

Friend and Colleague

There are but a precious few whom I have encountered who emit such an inherently and unearthly luminosity that I am convinced that they are here among we flesh suits but on loan, and surely by the hand of some great and superior Grace. Kim Domanski is and was always part and parcel of this rarest of company.

Profoundly humble for one so extremely gifted, Kim’s love for her life partner and constant companion of more than three decades, Ed, glowed with a devotion few marrieds ever achieve—a living thing of ardent beauty to behold. This quiet muse, Kim, also set about expressing loving kindness to all and made grand scale orchestration of community joy look effortless. An awesome and fun judge of AVAM’s annual Kinetic Sculpture Race, our recent 25th Race Anniversary was solemnly dedicated to the vast sweetness of her good memory. Ram Dass said it well, “We are all just walking each other home.”

That we had Kim for as long as she could stay is the mega gift that far outshines the sadness of her missing. To her family, free of a body, surely she remains close to you. Our sincere prayer is THANK YOU for such a wondrous goodness. Ed, few people will ever experience being loved as wholly unconditionally as she surely did you. Vincent Van Gogh concluded in a letter to his brother Theo, “The more I think, the more I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.” Kim was a very great artist.

Nancy Proctor

Friend and Colleague

When I arrived at The Peale on the Saturday morning of Artscape, a beautiful poster greeted me in the lobby with Kim and Ed’s smiling faces. It is a lovely portrait of them both, standing in the Latrobe room, surrounded by Ed’s colorful paintings. Kim was wearing her green dress with the pink dress pin that Ed had given her, and looked so happy.

I couldn’t help but cry as thought about how much she had poured into Artscape over the years, not least in her last months. As soon as it was clear that Artscape was going to happen in our neighborhood this year, she suggested that we offer to host the Sondheim Semifinalists exhibition at The Peale. Once that was confirmed, she worked tirelessly with Lou Joseph, Tonya Miller Hall, and so many others to ensure that the artists and their artworks would have the best possible showcase at the heart of the festival, in sight of City Hall. As kind and sensitive as Kim could be, she was also fierce in ensuring that the art got its due. No effort was spared, no detail too small to make an exhibition sing. Marnio Cuerva and LeRease Clark followed her lead and produced a spectacular installation of the Sondheim Semi-finalists’ show, one that Kim would have been immensely proud of and grateful to her colleagues for.

As the visitors streamed in and out of The Peale on Saturday and Sunday, I teared up again, thinking how happy Kim would have been to see the place so alive, knowing that the Sondheim artists were getting such a large and appreciative audience. It was a bittersweet Artscape for sure, but also a fitting tribute to one who gave so much love and energy to Baltimore’s art and artists.

John Suau

Executive Director, The Peale

Though I only had the briefest opportunity to work with Kim Domanski before her passing, it was immediately clear to me that her vision and dedication helped shape the cultural landscape of Baltimore. On behalf of The Peale, I express our deep gratitude for her years of service to the city’s creative communities. Her legacy lives on in the public art and programs she championed — and in the hearts of all who continue that work. It is an honor to follow in the path she helped forge.

F. William Chickering

President and Board Chair at The Peale

Kim seemed to know everyone and be able to connect to anything in Baltimore. Her work in planning exhibitions and events provided marvelous experiences for artists and creators of all sort to tell their stories in Baltimore.

Always thoughtful of resources, especially time, Kim was a wonderful collaborator in arranging opportunities for me to give tours and tell The Peal’s story.

There is much I miss with Kim absent. I miss her emails and texts, involving me in tours and programming, but most of all, I miss her smile!

Kristen Hileman

Friend and Colleague

The first time I met Kim in the mid-1990s, it was to learn about and admire her own artwork, which I remember as vibrant, welcoming, and joyful…words that I have continued to associate with Kim herself. Throughout the next two-and-a-half decades, I knew Kim as a strong and committed advocate for art and Baltimore, building up the creative community and our city through her dedication and hard work organizing initiatives at the Baltimore Office of Promotion and the Arts and The Peale—initiatives that brought opportunities and resources to artists and raised public awareness and engagement.

Kim was also an excellent diplomat—gracious, calm, and firm—as she developed consensus amongst members of the Baltimore Public Arts Commission and made the Janet and Walter Sondheim Art Prize exhibitions and awards into wonderful celebrations of the achievements of the Baltimore region’s artists. While we grieve the loss of this generous, smart, sparkling, one-of-a-kind force, we must also celebrate Kim and the many significant ways that she made visiting, living in, and making art in Baltimore better for countless people. Her legacy (and the example it sets for us) is remarkable.

Theresa Segreti

Friend and Colleague

I always wondered if BOPA chose Kim Domanski as the curator of Baltimore’s Light City because they too saw her inherent radiant light. Everyone who knew her felt it—the softness and sweetness, humility and kindness.

My connection with Kim came from our similar birthplaces and the culture surrounding them—small coal-region towns in Pennsylvania. Hers, Shamokin; mine, McAdoo—hardly incubator-towns for Fine Art—but perhaps fertile soil for dreaming of bigger beauty. I’d like to believe that all those dusty main street parades, polka parties, community bingo nights, and wacky roadside attractions that Kim and I reminisced about had much to do with Kim’s intrinsic ability to infuse big city events and exhibitions with a loving small-town touch.

I perhaps selfishly used our friendship to my own advantage—enlisting her to be a part of the wacky events I was working on at AVAM. She concocted ridiculous trophies, adjudicated costumed pets at AVAM’s Pet Parade, donned a powdered wig and robe in ridiculously hot weather as part of the iconic trio of Kinetic judges for the Kinetic Sculpture Race—and she always did it with such discerning kindness and generosity.

I especially loved her wide-eyed excitement for all things maybe more lowbrow: anything tiny, japanalia, cuddly short-legged wiener dogs wearing hats, matryoshka nesting dolls, game nights, costume jewelry, raffle drums, sleepovers, lavender, and bingo.

She was the most thoughtful of friends, a funny and playful sidekick. We laughed and cried together. She was my chosen family.

Kim, if you can read this, I’ll meet you again in the warm end of the pool and tell you how much I’ve missed you. And I hope you can see how much dimmer the lights are in Baltimore without you.

George Collins

African American Fire Fighters Historical Society

As president and founder of the African American Fire Fighters Historical Society I can say that Kim Domanski will be truly missed by our organization. She coached us through our inaugural exhibition at The Peale, with diligence, creativity and professionalism. Simply put, Kim took what was in my head and put it on the wall. I can say that  I was amazed and in awe of her vision. People who came to see the exhibition would be wowed by all that was on display, I gave all the credit to Kim, because she was just amazing.. Rest easy Kim, because we know that you worked hard.

Timothy Nohe

Friend and Colleague

When I learned that Kim had passed, a wordless sensation of sudden, blue plummeting seized me. The physicality of it, this feeling of sinking, enveloped me. I knew that others in “Smalltimore” would be feeling a similar grief at the loss of such a giving spirit. The realization that she was gone, and that her dear family would be staggered with loss, and that the culture workers at The Peale and BOPA would grieve, added to the stark sensation that she would no longer be just around the corner at an opening or a buzzing Peale event.

Moving into early summer, I have rebounded from that initial shock of falling, and I am comforted by her significant and quiet contributions to the arts in our city. Grief is an expression of love, and this community truly loved Kim Domanski.