Curator Storm Ascher on Celebrating Black Art in the Hamptons
By: Curate La
Tags: Art, Interview, Los Angeles, Gentrification, Black Art

I think the Hamptons is past gentrification at this point, so with Celebrate Longevity, it’s kind of a reversal of gentrification. We’re putting all this art up that’s made by people that don’t normally live here and inviting them into that space where normally they would think, “Oh, I can’t go there,” or even, “I won’t go there.” And these rich people also need to be brought back to earth a little bit and see what the real world is doing. It’s probably the only Black-owned and Black-focused show here right now that isn’t a secondary market. I guess that’s why I chose to keep pressing forward with finding a space here for it.

Shelley: Yeah, I’m interested in that, specifically, because it is an inverse experience. What is it doing for you, or how has the experience been for you to create a show in a predominantly white and upper-class arena, for lack of better words, with artists that are predominantly of color and generally speaking to a different audience?

Storm: Well, they said all the galleries need to meet their collectors at their summer homes during COVID, right? And I wasn’t about to just be like, “Oh, well, I guess we can’t do that. I’ll let the high tier galleries deal with that.” I realized that it’s actually taking a lot of money and opportunities away from my artists if I don’t try to also get in front of these faces. Even though there is an overall, like, cringyness to pandering to an “upper-class” audience, I just didn’t want to miss out on any new possibilities for the artists. So it was like, “OK, I’m gonna try and find a space here, even if it’s my backyard.” Obviously the crowd is gonna be different from every other show, but this is just what the market is doing and we’re not about to sleep during it.

And then the other aspect is the amount of time it actually took to find a space. There was scrutiny from probably five different spaces that I was speaking with and you can’t really tell in the Hamptons that anything is going on with either COVID or the protests. So as soon as they heard the proceeds from the show are going to a Black school, they’re like, “Oh, well, what is that like? Are there going to be protests here? Just make sure it’s tasteful.” As soon as I heard, “Just make sure it’s tasteful,”… I thought, well, I guess this isn’t the spot.

Girl Getting Hair Braided, 2020 Marcus Leslie Singleton @marcuslesliesingleton

I won’t go on with all the stories, but then I was able to find Reform Club. Dominique Clayton all the way from L.A. connected me with one of her friends here. It’s been really nice, all the people around are really accommodating to me and that makes me really excited about it. The Jamaican and Dominican people that work in the Hamptons have come through and looked at the show and been like, “Oh, somebody does give a fuck.” Even though I’ve had a lot of visitors staying at the hotel nearby, they were the most art historically and culturally engaged when I was talking and asked follow-up questions. Not just like, “Oh, that’s a funny picture,” you know?

I want to show that there is still space for us in these types of places, and luxury can be attained by Black people.

Shelley: Totally. So I guess I’m wondering, what’s the point of you wanting to sell to this particular demographic of people that live in the Hamptons? Is the point for you to just make money for your artists and peace out, then they’ll make more work and you can just move on from these kinds of patrons?

Storm: I need to be clear that there are historic Black beach communities in Sag Harbor about 30 minutes from Reform Club and it is overlooked. Currently they are fighting against development there, so I want to show that there is still space for us in these types of places, and luxury can be attained by Black people. And I want patrons to understand that you can have high-quality art in a space or in a nonexistent space like mine, Black-owned, and a model they’re not used to. They don’t have to go to Gagosian to find something interesting. Maybe that would actually change the way they’re thinking about the whole art world in general and then about their own lives and their own decisions. If we never approach these places that are stuck in their ways, we can’t expect them to change. That’s actually why I’m doing it. I want those types of people to also be a part of the conversation, even though it may not be my favorite conversation, we have to give them a chance to be allies.

Labor of Love Opening Reception, from left to right: Eilen Itzel Mena (@eilen.itzel.mena), Ludovic Nkoth (@lnkoth), John Rivas ( #JohnRivas), Storm Ascher (@stormascher), Tiff Massey (@tiff_massey), Marcus Leslie Singleton (@marcuslesliesingleton)

I realized, I can be here. The artist can be here. And all the rich people that have always been here will still be here. And that’s all fine.

And the other aspect, of course, is if that’s where the market is, I want to be able to give all my artists a chance to be able to say, “Oh, yeah, I’ve also shown in the Hamptons,” and not have it be like, “Oh, the Hamptons? Maybe in like, 10 years when I’m at Sotheby’s.” No, this is possible now because we just did it, and I don’t feel intimidated by it. When some of the artists are coming out here and they’re like, “What is this place like? I feel like I just walked in the 1800s,” that’s exactly how I felt when I came here the first time. My initial reaction was “I’m not supposed to be here. I need to straighten my back or something,” and then I thought, “That’s so stupid. Why would I try and change my demeanor for anyone just because I felt, like, an overall aura of oppressive history,” you know? I realized, I can be here. The artist can be here. And all the rich people that have always been here will still be here. And that’s all fine. People from all different demographic levels live in the Hamptons, you just don’t think of it that way, that’s not how it’s advertised

Driving Stick, 2020 Melanie Luna @ohmeluna

Shelley: You mentioned before that there’s currently this rush to collect Black art. As a curator, you’ve always represented Black artists and it’s been a part of your mission that the artists you show are a part of the Diaspora. I’m curious, has anything changed for you in how you sell art, now that white collectors started being “woke” and are scrambling to add Black artists to their collections?

Storm: Yeah. In terms of dealing, I’m not giving in at all to collectors that ask for a discount on Diasporic art. I think it’s just preposterous to ask something like that right now, especially when we’re also fundraising for a Black organization. So I’m very blatant from the get-go saying this will not be discounted unless it’s going to an institution. And then, yeah, If somebody buys the work, they’re not allowed to resell it for at least five years, that’s always been in my contracts. It discourages inflation for the artists market. It’s basically aiming to slow down when a young artist would go to auction because and be flipped after that peak, they just only go down from there, they need longevity! If this is a promised gift to an institution or something, I need to know that it’s going to have all the provenance information and that it’s going to have the artist involved in future programming. I have to make sure I cross all my T’s for the artists’ sake, you know? And I think that is a really important part of it.

‘Celebrate Longevity’ is really saying, this work and these artists aren’t just a fad. We’re here to stay.

Shelley: So you’re basically offering protection for artists and their careers?

Storm: Yes, I mean, that’s the goal. I am working to sharpen all my legal foundations and art market classes at Sotheby’s. And that’s also what I was saying about why I like working with emerging artists because I’m also emerging. They understand that the relationship is a mutual learning and growing experience and that I’m in school for this and in real-time trying to figure out how to navigate the market.

Shelley: To me, it just shows that you’re hustling. You are giving the system a run for its money and doing it well. I’m just amazed, especially with the people that you’re dealing with. I wouldn’t have the patience. And so kudos to you.

Storm: Thanks. I had a lot of practice in private school. [laughs]

Shelley: Can you talk about the works and the concept of the show on view in the Hamptons?

Seuños Mio, 2020 collaboration between John Rivas and Raelis Vasquez

Storm: Yeah, so the show is called Celebrate Longevity. It’s pretty much me wanting to talk about the longevity aspect of everything that’s going on right now. With the protests, everything that’s going on with Black art being flipped and sold very quickly, this kind of fever frenzy going on. Celebrate Longevity is really saying, this work and these artists aren’t just a fad. We’re here to stay. And also Superposition as the gallery is here to stay. We’ve made it two years and we’re celebrating that. So that was the basic setup of the title.

John Rivas and Raelis Vasquez did a collaboration for the first time just for this show. They did exquisite corpse pieces where they gave each other the foundation of a drawing and then passed it back and forth, like, four or five times for about a month. I thought that was really cool that they wanted to collaborate on it, because that also went into the aspect of celebrating each other, supporting each other, and making it a permanent idea that this is a family within the gallery.

And then Dodi King — I just started working with them; This work includes “La Fausse Maison,” which means “the fake house” in French. It really takes a comedic approach to racial tensions and European elitist ideologies contributing to the deterioration of Black identity. The ankh swinging from the rearview mirror of the car preserves those ancestral ties we seek out. Dodi talked to me about how these symbols are polarized against the figures’ matching hair and clown makeup, and they have really developed a kind of lexicon that pokes fun at the monotony of western society. Also you really can’t help but laugh when taking in the reality of this scene. And laughter can stem from a spectrum of emotions, whether it makes you uncomfortable, or is just genuinely funny. It calls out the duality of maintaining social order with costumed appearances while also at the same time burying this underlying conflict and distress that we experience.

Even on a personal level, I’m very aware of the fakeness of when people interact with each other, and we’re not of the same race, that awkwardness of forcing a connection that is stagnant. Even at first look, as a black woman, I can assume the figures at the table are putting on a facade, and they’re not giving these two figures in the car a seat at the physical table. I just thought it was so powerful. It’s so real and true.