Show of a (Long) Lifetime at Studio 18 By April Koral Studio 18 Gallery in Tribeca had an opening last month. No reviewers came and there were no dealers looking for fresh talent. But to the 21 artists in attendance, some famous, all accomplished, none of this seemed to matter. They were together again, in this gallery carved out of the front of a Warren Street loft, attending — several with the help of wheelchairs or canes — one of the most memorable openings of their long lives. They embraced one another, choked back tears and, standing beside their works, gamely posed for children and grandchildren who recorded the event. A half-century ago, they were buddies in Paris, living in garrets, arguing about art in smoky cafes and showing their work at a tiny gallery at 8 rue Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre, called Gallerie Huit.   The gallery, the first in Paris run by Americans, was an unheated space measuring a mere 23 by 15 feet, in the shadow of Notre Dame. It opened in 1950 and lasted only two years. But it was an important center for the artists, nearly all of whom were young war vets enrolled in art classes under the G.I. bill. “The gallery was a cohesive thing,” says Jonah Kinigstein, who showed there. “It pulled us together.” Now they are together again, in the show, “Galerie Huit: American Artists in Paris 1950-52,” which will be at Studio 18 Gallery through Dec. 28. Each of the artists, many of whom are now in their 80s, has a piece from that period and a recent work. The gallery’s owner, Franz Friedrich, got the idea for the show while sitting around his kitchen table with Hayward Bill Rivers and Sidney Geist, old friends who belonged to Gallerie Huit. “Hayward’s a great raconteur,” Friedrich said, “and he had always talked about his days in Paris and the gallery. I said to him, ‘Gee, it would fun to show their work.’” Tracking down the artists wasn’t easy. One of them had the addresses of a few others, who provided still more. Word spread: A woman called with the number of an old boyfriend. A son in Washington, D.C., called about his late father. All happily contributed work. “Some hadn’t shown in years,” Friedrich said. “Others, like Al Held and Jules Olitski, still show in prestigious galleries.” Friedrich picked up many of the pieces in his station wagon, traveling from a town near the Canadian border to Cambridge, Mass., to New Hope, Penn. “Basically it’s an historical show and we wanted to include as many people as we could,” he said. “There was a conflict in the art world at that time between abstract expressionist in New York and representationalists, and Galerie Huit artists reflected the two schools.” Back then, the young artists’ stipends were $75 a month, which lasted about three weeks. Dollar-a-night-hotel rooms were their lodging. “It was a dream of young artists,” says Kinigstein. “We went across to see new forms of painting, but also to go to Montmartre and sit in the cafes. We had just come out of the army and we wanted to hobnob with other artists. I painted in my room and kept the paintings under the bed.” “We barely had enough to live on,” recalls Herbert Katzman, “Toilet paper, for example, was very hard to find in France then, and when we went to the American embassy every monthto pick up our checks, we’d steal all the toilet paper.” The gallery’s rent was paid by American sculptor Bob Rosenwald. All other expenses were shared by the artists. Before the gallery opened, Geist recalled, the artists cut out an “8” from a piece of metal, painted it red and attached it to the facade so that it stuck out from the building. “As we were finishing this job, the neighbors, who followed our activities with interest, all began laughing. What was so funny? It seemed that precisely such a red number had customarily been used to announce the presence of a brothel.” Like all the artists, Burt Hasen, who served in the South Pacific for four years and came back to Paris on a converted troop ship, recalls those years as “the best time of my life. They are encased in my spirit.” Though the “real revolutionary and significant work” was not being done by them, he adds. “It was being done by Rothko, de Kooning, who were more mature. We were young guys.” Young guys who also grew and matured. “It looks so different from my later work,” Hasen says of a small representational piece in the show that he painted 50 years ago. “I wonder, ‘Did I do that?’” “Galerie Huit: American Artists in Paris 1950-52” Studio 18 Gallery, 18 Warren St. 385-6734. Wed–Sat, 1-6 p.m. or by appointment. To 12/28. A catalogue is available at the gallery.