Flight and fight: New York City galleries make strategic moves to survive

Lately, the usual suspects of New York City’s art scene seem to be everywhere but the Big Apple. Since the coronavirus crisis brought business-as-usual to a screeching halt more than a year ago, the rise in spaces launched by some of the city’s stalwarts – such as Acquavella Galleries, Pace Gallery, Lévy Gorvy, and Paula Cooper – in destinations like the Hamptons, Aspen, and Palm Beach suggests that a Manhattan zip code is no longer a prerequisite. Even so, those who remain say that what has filled the city amid these absences is even more valuable – a renewed sense of purpose and camaraderie.

‘This has been a moment of recalibration – a necessary one,’ says James Fuentes, who has operated his eponymous gallery for nearly 15 years. With a program rooted in the history of New York City and its artistic movements, the Lower East Side gallerist is committed to the city ideologically as much as financially. ‘The by-product of being a gallery here is that you are always embedded in the global art market,’ he says. ‘What I think has come to the fore, though, is how much we rely on local infrastructures and our neighbors.’

This means, however, that some galleries have been looking for new turf. The dispersal to other locales, though catalyzed by the global pandemic, in fact predated the crisis, and is evidence of a growing trend among New York City galleries. Take, for instance, the coalescence of more than a dozen galleries, including Bortolami, Andrew Kreps Gallery, P.P.O.W, and Canada, in Manhattan’s Tribeca neighborhood over the last few years in an effort to build up a more physically accessible and financially sustainable alternative to West Chelsea.

Nevertheless, gallerists with the means to do so have also been eyeing sites further afield, as evidenced in the destination pop-ups that have proliferated during the pandemic. ‘Pop-up spaces have existed for many, many years, [for at least] as long asI’ve been in the art world and I’m embarrassed to admit how long that is,’ says Rachel Lehmann, of Lehmann Maupin, which opened in the city’s storied Soho in 1996 and has grown into a global gallery with satellite locations in Hong Kong, Seoul, and London. Within the last year, the gallery also launched temporary spaces in Aspen and Palm Beach.

‘With the pandemic we have learned how to use pop-ups more effectively. Their purpose became very clear and their need, urgent,’ Lehmann explains, noting that the lack of fairs and exhibitions necessitated new venues that could allow for distancing and open-air socializing. This year, Lehmann Maupin is planning to return to Aspen and Palm Beach, as well as another as-yet-unannounced Asia location. ‘Industry-wise, I expect we will definitely see a rise in temporary exhibitions [in other places],’ says Lehmann. ‘I envision a hybrid model where we have a pop-up space before or after an art fair to give collectors more time to engage with the work.’

Nick Olney, director of Kasmin – which, in spite of its founder Paul Kasmin’s passing in April 2020, has effectively tripled its Manhattan footprint over the last few years by creating a small campus of three adjacent spaces in Chelsea – agrees that longer stays in other cities will become more de rigueur in the trade. He attributes this to the need for more conscientious travel that the pandemic has engendered, and perhaps even more so the normalization of remote working over the last year. ‘The art market, New York’s especially, is already international, and that’s not going to change,’ he says. ‘It’s just how that internationalism manifests that will shift.’

A brave new world of online viewing rooms (OVRs) has made global sales all the easier, even for hyperlocal galleries. ‘A virtual component will be a part of any show we do now,’ says Olney. ‘Not only do OVRs allow you a wider reach, client-wise, they also allow artists to be able to present a body of work that doesn’t have to fill a giant space in New York every two years. That kind of grind can inhibit creativity.’

As with so many sectors, the pandemic accelerated trends already in progress, both positive and negative. The economic crisis brought on by the pandemic has led many galleries to slash costs. According to the 2021 Art Basel and UBS Art Market Report, authored by Dr Clare McAndrew and released this week, aggregate dealer sales in 2020 declined 20%, and both the smallest and largest galleries were forced to lay off staff and make drastic cuts in overhead.

But mid-sized galleries have not been immune to the seismic shifts reshaping the city and have caused many to rethink their business plans. Notably, Metro Pictures – which represents major artists from the Pictures generation like Louise Lawler and Robert Longo – recently announced its closure after 40 years. ‘In no way are we closing because of the pandemic, but I do think the artworld changed a lot. Not traveling gives you time to think,’ Metro Pictures co-founder Janelle Reiring said in an interview with Artnet. The slowed pace of the city gave her time to think, Reiring continued, saying: ‘It seemed like, “Okay, we don’t have to keep doing this.” A new generation with more energy will see the future of the art world. And I don’t mean it in a negative way, I think it’s exciting.’

Marianne Boesky agrees, noting that the last year has prompted many – including herself – to shift priorities in their programming. On March 27, Boesky will present her first ‘carbon-conscious’ exhibition with artist Allison Janae Hamilton’s solo debut with the gallery. Known for work highlighting issues of environmental justice, Hamilton is tracking the carbon output involved in the planning and execution of the individual artworks and the exhibition as a whole. At the show’s close, the gallery will make a donation (including for any unsold works) to old-growth forest conservation with Galleries Commit x Art to Acres. ‘I realized during Covid that these principles have always been near to my heart, but perhaps adhered to more by talk than by action,’ Boesky says. 

Indeed, collective action has come to define the city over the last year, perhaps best evidenced by the Black Lives Matter protests that swept its streets for months on end. ‘There was so much sadness, violence, but also care and celebration – all within these public spaces,’ Olney says. ‘It was a big part of reminding me why we live here.’

According to Fuentes, the entire city has endured a ‘trauma’ in the last year that won’t be easily overcome. But what is for certain is that healing – and, with it, change – are already underway. ‘Hardship can force your hand in good ways and bad, and we’ll be seeing a lot of people make decisions based on their experiences of the last year for a while,’ he says.‘If it wasn’t present in the minds of some of my gallery peers before this, then I definitely think it hit home in the last year that place you’re in and the people you’re around matters and, I think for some, that means a recommitment to New York. It’s promising – it feels like we’re witnessing a changing of the guard.’

Margaret Carrigan is an independent writer and editor contributing to The Art Newspaper, Frieze, and The Observer, among other publications, and has appeared as an art market commentator for ArtTactic, Bloomberg, and Reuters.

Top image: Installation view of Allison Janae Hamilton's Waters of a Lower Register, 2020. © Allison Janae Hamilton. Photo by Max Yawney, courtesy of the artist; Creative Time, New York City; and Marianne Boesky Gallery, New York City and Aspen.