It was exciting at first. New York City. I worked at the Whitney Museum when arrived I in 1980 and sold catalogs during the Edward Hopper exhibition. He was a favorite of mine so I spent many lunch breaks on the gallery floors. After the show closed I found a position in the accounting office. Boring. But it led to an interesting few years working as the bookkeeper for a major contemporary art gallery on 57th Street.
The Art World in the 80's was a wild place. Julian Schnabel, David Salle, Keith Haring, Jean Michel Basquiat were becoming celebrities, Mary Boone and Larry Gagosian were starting to build their empires. Soho was buzzing and many uptown galleries were opening new spaces to accommodate the gigantic work their artists were making. The Odeon was a hot spot, cocaine was passed around like dinner mints, and everyone was reaching for the limelight.
A young artist could walk into a gallery with slides of her work and someone might take a look. But without existing fame it was hard to be taken too seriously. Most people were ambitious and only interested in making important professional connections. With some exceptions. If you were young, female and attractive there were many opportunities to have sex with powerful men - and I had my share of them. One experience happened when I first started my gallery job and the principle of the business invited me to his upper east side apartment to see his collection of Pop and Contemporary painting. How exciting! When I arrived he offered me a glass of wine and began to show me around. Quickly we ended up in the bedroom where he began to undress and asked me to help him select clothes to wear to a business dinner he was going to later in the evening. Embarrassed and confused, I played along like it was perfectly normal to be standing there with my new boss in his boxer shorts. He dressed and asked me if I would like to stay at his apartment until he returned from dinner. No, I don't think so. Fortunate decision. The following week his German live-in girlfriend resurfaced. They married a year or so later which did not have much effect on his ongoing flirtations.
The Art World in the 80's was a wild place. Julian Schnabel, David Salle, Keith Haring, Jean Michel Basquiat were becoming celebrities, Mary Boone and Larry Gagosian were starting to build their empires. Soho was buzzing and many uptown galleries were opening new spaces to accommodate the gigantic work their artists were making. The Odeon was a hot spot, cocaine was passed around like dinner mints, and everyone was reaching for the limelight.
A young artist could walk into a gallery with slides of her work and someone might take a look. But without existing fame it was hard to be taken too seriously. Most people were ambitious and only interested in making important professional connections. With some exceptions. If you were young, female and attractive there were many opportunities to have sex with powerful men - and I had my share of them. One experience happened when I first started my gallery job and the principle of the business invited me to his upper east side apartment to see his collection of Pop and Contemporary painting. How exciting! When I arrived he offered me a glass of wine and began to show me around. Quickly we ended up in the bedroom where he began to undress and asked me to help him select clothes to wear to a business dinner he was going to later in the evening. Embarrassed and confused, I played along like it was perfectly normal to be standing there with my new boss in his boxer shorts. He dressed and asked me if I would like to stay at his apartment until he returned from dinner. No, I don't think so. Fortunate decision. The following week his German live-in girlfriend resurfaced. They married a year or so later which did not have much effect on his ongoing flirtations.
I stayed in New York for five years. The glamor of the gallery scene slowly wore off and its nastiness wore me down. I found myself looking for the passion I once felt in the presence of great art. Trips to Italy in 1983 & 1984 helped me see that the passion was still burning within me. Standing before masterpieces in Rome, Florence, Siena and Venice my heart opened and I knew it was time to escape the Big Apple. A year later my brother and I drove a U-Haul truck to Boston where I started a more balance life.
I love New York now and go often for museum & gallery shows, for the theater and wonderful food, a walk in Central Park. My husband & I stay for a night or two and enjoy the energy. Then we come back to Boston filled with the inspiration these short visits provide.
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