My dad, Dr. Charles E. Giuliano, was a surgeon with many talents. He could sing, play instruments, cook and was a prolific landscape painter. He married a doctor, my mom Dr, Josephine Rita Flynn. 

It was a given that I would follow in the family business.

At the end of my freshman year at Brandeis University I flunked chemistry and got an A in studio art. Based on the obvious I announced that I would not pursue pre med and would instead major in art. 

That infuriated dad. It was summer in Annisquam. He dragged me into the back yard, ripped off our shirts and proceeded to knock some bare knuckle sense into me. Mom and my sisters intervened and we sat for a family council. 

It was decided that I would be a fine arts major and that beyond college Dad would essentially disown me. 

Largely as an act of singular defiance I was determined to become an artist. That proved to be complicated. By policy, studio majors were required to minor in art history. The professors were brilliant and their courses fascinating.  

As Creighton E. Gilbert, a renowned Renaissance scholar advised me “If you want to be an artist, study art history.” 

That led to a diverse career as an arts journalist and critic, gallerist, curator, photographer, and professor of humanities and art history. 

A Fork In The Road

Often as my career developed I followed the advice of the great American philosopher Yogi Berra. “When you come to the fork in the road take it.”

Nothing went according to plan or training but there was an array of enticing opportunities. 

Falling by my Lower East Side storefront studio my friend Jim Jacobs had a gift of an old Remington upright typewriter. Soon after I was invited to contribute to 57th Street Review and Arts Magazine. I became New York correspondent for Boston’s Avatar. 

In the summer of 1968 after an aborted trip to Mexico, which ended in New Orleans, Arden Harrison and I ended up in Fort Hill, Roxbury. We went to work for Avatar paying the rent by selling the rag in Harvard Square. 

There was a blowup with the Mel Lyman cult and with David Wilson we took over Avatar. By fall he returned as editor of Broadside and I got a job with Boston After Dark which later evolved into the Boston Phoenix. I reported to Arnie Reisman my former Brandeis Justice editor. Covering the emerging Boston art world I had a column called Art Bag. 

When Timothy Crouse departed the Boston Herald Traveler for Rolling Stone he recommended that I replace him as “Popular Music Critic.” In addition to rock I pursued a passion of jazz, blues and soul music. Mom told me that dad read my reviews.

When the Herald imploded I went on to years as a freelance writer for Art New England, Art News, The Patriot Ledger and numerous music publications and weeklies. By then I was photographing the artists I covered.

History

1960s

Brandeis University, Class of 1963.  In the fall after graduating, joined the Department of Egyptian Art of the Museum of Fine Arts as an intern for conservation.  Various writing gigs and some curations followed.

1994

Bought a three-decker in Jeffrey’s Point, East Boston. Established Maverick Arts Gallery and the website Maverick Arts.com. Married the arts administrator, writer and editor, Astrid Hiemer. The ceremony took place in the back yard of 82 Webster Street under the apple tree. With Astrid traveled to England, Ireland, France, Italy, Spain, Shanghai and Senegal. As a curator/ critic invited to Vienna, Montreal, Quebec City, Paraza, France, and Portugal.

2022

Selected for inclusion in the annual Marquis publication “Who’s Who in America.”