CURATE LA: Curator Storm Ascher on Celebrating Black Art in the Hamptons

Curate LA

Dec 17, 2020

Storm Ascher is an artist and curator who founded Superposition Gallery in August 2018. Storm started her curatorial projects with a mission to subvert gentrification tactics used in urban development through art galleries. By starting a nomadic gallery model without a brick and mortar space, the gallery has continued to grow their community outreach and has drawn in exhibition participation from over 70 artists of different cultural backgrounds and multidisciplinary practices.

Ascher recently curated Celebrate Longevity, a traveling series of rotating exhibitions at Reform Club Amagansett in The Hamptons, NY and at Allbright West Hollywood, CA, to celebrate Superposition Gallery’s two year anniversary.

We spoke with Ascher about the power of artistic collaboration and how she curates shows that combat gentrification, from start to finish.

Shelley Holcomb (Curate LA): Let’s start with where you’re from and how your practice began?

Storm Ascher: I was born in North Carolina because my mom had just graduated from Duke. She met my dad at her first internship out of college when she was 21. I was only there until I was 2, and then we moved to New Jersey for about five years, and then moved to L.A. when she went back to school at the Claremont Colleges, which is where I am now with the Sotheby’s program, actually.

I guess I’d say I grew up in L.A., but I always felt like I wasn’t so much, like, a West Coast girl until recently. Now I’m building up a better community with the type of people that are interested in the same things that I am. When I was in college at UC Santa Barbara, I went abroad to Barcelona for a year, and that was where I actually started learning about art history. And it wasn’t the Western perspective of it, which was a really lucky opportunity to be able to learn through a non-U.S.-centric lens. For me, this class was very spiritual, “I’m changing my life goals right now,” kind-of-class. My focus on the effects of gentrification really took root while I was there. I originally went to study the city’s branding, but ended up focusing on how art gentrifies neighborhoods.

The curating aspect didn’t come until my last year in the SVA art program in New York in the Visual & Critical Studies department. I was painting, I was doing sculpture with neon signs, and I was doing mostly shows with my own work. Then, senior year, my department had asked me if I wanted to curate the show with one of the professors and it required me to do studio visits with each of my peers every week. That was when I started getting really obsessed with other people’s practices, following up with them, seeing how they changed, and getting out of my own head in my studio work. It was a cathartic thing, like, OK, so I’m not the only person toiling with too many ideas. I felt like I was getting a lot more out of learning about other people’s practices.

I ended up showing my paintings and my documentary thesis project, called “Gentrify 2018.” I filmed it in different cities and interviewed people in New York, Miami, Barcelona, and L.A. about what was really going on with the galleries in neighborhoods like Boyle Heights in LA and Chinatown in NY. It was all happening, like, right at that time. I never actually published that documentary outside of the screening at SVA because I just kept getting new information and kept having to edit it and change it. And then I was just like, “OK, I need to work on a project that actually changes this instead of trying to just document everything that’s wrong,” you know? I’d rather document how I’m actually changing it. After graduating, I got back to L.A. and started putting out open calls for more shows. And that’s when the first Superposition show happened in downtown L.A. on 8/18/18

Shelley: What was the genesis of your gallery Superposition?

Storm: Well, what’s funny is I actually was really obsessed with physics when I was in high school. It was the one class I was good at besides dance team and I think it plays into why I’m also artistic. There’s the physical aspect of art that’s tied to science. “Superposition” means to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time, it’s quantum mechanics. To me, art is just that. There are many ways to be an artist, there are many ways to identify, and there are many ways to live. You can be moving around all the time and the gallery moves around all the time. We’re stir crazy, and vibrating and recreating ourselves constantly. So it’s basically like subverting the idea of permanence. We’ve never had the same space twice.

My goal is to always move because I want to introduce the group of artists to all different communities and have the artist be able to say, “I’ve shown here,” “I’ve shown in little Ethiopia,” or “I’ve shown in the Hamptons,” and not have to feel like they have to go to all these different galleries to do that or that they’re spreading the market really thin or focusing only in one area causing the rest of the art world to have no idea about them.

Shelley: Can you talk about the artists that you feature in your shows and if you have a roster?

Storm: Every artist that works with [Superposition] somehow falls into a similar category or position. Whether it’s identity issues or having lived in a lot of different places, whether they are of the Diaspora or they are dealing with gentrification — they don’t all have to check every single one of those boxes, but that’s kind of how I navigate selecting artists.

The roster is always growing and changing and it really depends on what they need from the exchange. I’m more interested in developing a relationship with each artist. And then that trust just builds up over time.

I also want to make sure that I don’t tell people to not send unsolicited images to the gallery. I think that’s a really discouraging thing that a lot of places have done. And in the beginning, that made me kind of averse to the gallery system because I’ve always thought, “Why can’t I just walk up and talk to them? Like, what’s the problem?” For me, it’s always friends of friends or a completely random occurrence that I meet an artist and we end up working together. Now, during COVID, I’ve been FaceTiming so many people that I’m meeting for the first time, and I think it’s been the most fun part about it. I’ve done probably 10 of those virtual visits this summer with different artists. Even if they don’t end up working with me, at least now we know each other and it’s “Hope to see you soon,” you know?

Shelley: And do you purposely choose emerging, young artists?

Storm: Yeah, I’m trying to learn from my own practice and I’m following this journey with them. So it’s kind of this synchronized thing where we’re the same generation and figuring it out together.

Shelley: I’m interested to hear more about how you navigate existing in a gentrified space, while, at the same time, exploring these topics in your curation often with artists that come from marginalized or historically oppressed communities? And also the concepts that you’re dealing with then, how do you feel with those being juxtaposed with what the art world stands for?

Storm: Yeah, I mean, the biggest part is when we’re in a space, I look up the demographics and what was happening recently there. It also really depends on which landlords I’m dealing with, and every space is different. It’s just being aware of what events have been there before or am I morally OK with what has been there before and being associated with giving money to that? Is it something the community wants there?

While we’re in a space, usually for just a week, we can interact with the community and actually have them come in to talk about the work or even do workshops in a space they may have just passed by had we not been there. The doors are wide open. And I hope that it’s not intimidating to walk in. I try as much as possible to make sure the neighbors know that they can come and enjoy it.

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.

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?

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.

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

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.

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?

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.

We’re going to do a solo show with Dodi later in 2021 in New York. I wanted to introduce the rest of the artists and our audience to their work and get them in the programming with everyone so that they feel supported when their solo show comes around.

There’s also Jeremiah Onifadé. He dealt with religious persecution in Nigeria when he was really young and his whole village was torn apart. Everything that he paints now is based on little stories or vignettes. This one is “The Percussionist.” It’s basically him and his brother fighting over a bowl of fish soup. Instead of sharing the soup, they spilled the soup and both lost a tooth. So if you can see, in the top left and bottom right, their teeth are falling out. It’s just like an African proverb. Then if you zoom in a little bit, these faces are drawn within their skin. This is all acrylic, but then he adds these little collage elements to it.

Shelley: What have you learned about yourself in quarantine and how has it affected your curatorial and creative practice?

Storm: I think it made me feel more confident in my ideas from the beginning, because all of a sudden everybody had to adapt to what I was already doing in terms of having mostly virtual content.

I mean, I definitely know how to deinstall a show very quickly when a global pandemic happens now. And I know how to send out a blast with all this legal information about why we have canceled something and that it’s for the protection of everybody. [laughs] Curatorial wise, we’ve all had so much time to really think about what these shows actually mean and what they’re doing. So the concept was just so naturally there: celebrate and longevity. That’s just what’s happening right now for me. And that’s also how Superposition was. I’m so torn with moving and traveling. And I don’t know what my business will look like a year from now. And I’m constantly explaining to people that I’m Black but specifically Nigerian and Senegalese but also Jewish but specifically Russian, Irish, Polish and German, like, I don’t know how to talk about this anymore. I want to see how other people express that feeling with the things they’re dealing with because most people of the Diaspora have this feeling.

I guess just curating with the intention of basing it off of real-time experience and seeing artists actually having fleshed out ideas because we’ve slowed down — I think everybody will be more grounded from this, even though it has been kind of scary and stuff. I think it actually was a nice breather for me.

Shelley: So Celebrate Longevity is up until the end of September in the Hamptons. Do you have a plan to come back to L.A.?

Storm: Yeah. The plan is to bring this show to L.A. So once I get back, I’ll be looking for spaces there and I’m bringing all the artwork back with me. Even if the work sells, it’s still going to be in programming. These works somehow just came on so strong because of quarantine and were so specifically for this theme. I feel like it needs to travel and that plays into everything too.

Superposition Gallery is currently in two virtual art fairs: Future Fair NY Holiday Market, from November 27 — December 20, and PRIZM Art Fair Miami, from November 30 — December 21.

Follow Storm Ascher on Instagram at @stormascher and visit superpositiongallery.com to view more work. All images courtesy of the artists.

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