The New Generation of Black Women and Non-binary Gallerists
Jasmin Hernandez for ARTSY
March 1, 2022
Black women are the present and future of contemporary art. It’s something I’ve said on Instagram and a fact that continues to prove itself over and over again. From Simone Leigh becoming the first Black woman artist to represent the United States at the Venice Biennale later this spring, to the recent high-profile appointments of Isolde Brielmaier as the New Museum’s deputy director and Crystal Williams becoming the Rhode Island School of Design’s first Black (and Black woman) president. Black women historically and relentlessly define, preserve, ideate art and move culture. And they’ve undoubtedly helped construct the past as well.
When pioneering gallerist, filmmaker, and food activist Linda Goode Bryant opened Just Above Midtown (JAM) on 57th Street in 1974, she disrupted the white elitist art scene of the time in New York. Top galleries such as Leo Castelli, Ileana Sonnabend, and Marlborough catered to an upper-class white status quo, and felt comfortable not evolving. At JAM, Goode Bryant shattered those norms. She showed then-younger Black American artists (and total legends at this point) such as Maren Hassinger, Lorraine O’Grady, David Hammons, Fred Wilson, and others, who created experimental and provocative work on the Black experience and identity. Today, a new generation of Black women–owned galleries across the U.S. sustain Goode Bryant’s radical legacy, whether they exist in physical, pop-up, or virtual form.
During this time of heightened visibility for Black American artists and artists from the African diaspora—which doesn’t necessarily mean more equity in the art market—Black women and nonbinary gallerists, and the spaces they’re establishing, are participating in meaningful and crucial ways in the art ecosystem. They’re creating Black-owned art enterprises, impacting their local communities, exhibiting Black and POC artists across an intersection of identities, and building legacies.
In New York, Nicola Vassell, former director of Deitch Projects and Pace Gallery, and owner of art consultancy Concept NV, opened her space in the middle of the pandemic in May 2021 in Chelsea, with Ming Smith’s inaugural and breathtaking photography exhibition “Evidence.” In late January of this year, Afro-Canadian gallerist Hannah Traore founded her gallery on Orchard Street with two weighty shows:“Hues” and “Mi Casa Su Casa,” the latter of which was curated by Hassan Hajjaj and Meriem Yin, featuring vibrant works by contemporary Moroccan artists. HOUSING on Henry Street, owned by KJ Freeman, operates much deeper than just a for-profit gallery (its name is an ode to unfair housing issues faced by Black and POC working folk in the city). It’s a haven for Black, POC, and QTBIPOC artistic safety, and in the summer of 2020, Freeman distributed essential micro grants to Black artists financially devastated by the pandemic. Curator and art advisor Cierra Britton and her forthcoming eponymous gallery are currently fundraising to open the first physical gallery in Manhattan dedicated to Black and WOC artists.
Waller Gallery, founded by curator and scholar Joy Davis in 2017, is a major player in the thriving Baltimore art scene, and situated on Piscataway Land, feels a great commitment to Indigenous art and artists. At the newly founded Chela Mitchell Gallery (it debuted in Washington, D.C., as a pop-up in July 2021), Chela Mitchell—a super stylish art advisor and dealer, and founder of Komuna House—put on two stunning shows: a group show titled “Envy the Wind,” comprised of six Black and POC artists who are D.C. locals; and painter Célia Rakotondrainy’s U.S. solo debut, featuring mesmerizing double-exposed portraits unpacking her Franco-Malagasy identity.
On the West Coast, artist and curator Tariqa Waters has been crushing boundaries through Martyr Sauce, a now decade-old renegade DIY underground gallery in Seattle’s Pioneer Square—which recently expanded with the addition of the aboveground exuberant Martyr Sauce Pop Art Museum (MS PAM). Nigerian artpreneur and gallerist Adenrele Sonariwo opened Rele Gallery’s L.A. location on Melrose Avenue exactly one year ago, building upon the Lagos-based gallery program she founded in 2015. Rele prioritizes contemporary African women artists including Nigerian painters Tonia Nneji and Chidinma Nnoli. And all-around renaissance woman in the art world Dominique Clayton founded Dominique Gallery in Los Angeles four years ago. Her West Adams storefront, arts incubator, and project space supports BIPOC artists with publicity, networking, collector relationships, and much more.
Superposition founder Storm Ascher started her flexible nomadic gallery approach back in 2018. She’s since held nuanced and engaging solo and group shows in L.A., Miami, and the Hamptons, and most recently co-curated “House of Crowns” in New York, which included works by Layo Bright, Renee Cox, and Haleigh Nickerson. Multi-talented curator and cultural strategist Ashara Ekundayo operated her namesake physical gallery from 2017 to 2019 in Oakland’s Uptown and KONO districts, showing greats like Zanele Muholi and Tiff Massey, and has since evolved to offering global pop-up and virtual art experiences centered on Black women’s artistic production.
Here, the following 11 Black women and nonbinary gallery owners—based in cities ranging from New York to Oakland—speak authentically, passionately, and truthfully about their driving passions, Black ownership, and the separate tables they’re building for themselves in the art world, instead of sitting at an existing one.
Storm Ascher (she/her)
Founder, Superposition, Nomadic
What does it mean to you to be a part of a new generation of Black women shaping the art world?
Being part of an industry that is so volatile and arbitrary means needing a lot of emotional support, no matter your background. But Black women carry a lot more pressure in all areas of life with grace. I’m proud that we have all made such strides while framing this as an ecosystem rather than a game. I’m mostly grateful to be considered as part of this long line of trailblazers because growing up in white spaces, I had to self-educate on the history of Black women creatives and leaders. Now I can say that I am living it, and witnessing legendary moves by my community that I can contribute to.
Can you briefly share your gallery’s origin story and the biggest milestone so far?
I walked into my first rented space on the install day of our inaugural exhibition and saw an entirely different pop-up that had not deinstalled in time. There were piles of clothes, huge metal installations in the ceilings, pipes in the walls, and a massive wooden cash register desk that they had no idea how to move. I was angry, but I wasn’t going to throw a tantrum because this situation was only up to me, there was no one around to fix my problem. I had rented this space and it was my responsibility to get it looking how I imagined. It was pivotal for that to happen to really test my endurance for producing exhibitions.
I helped the designers deinstall their racks and spackled the walls. Artists started arriving with their work—some of these artists I was meeting for the first time while sweating and looking clearly embarrassed. They helped me paint the walls, drill in screws, load the cars of clothing and equipment from the previous renters. That space was completely renovated by artists and I don’t think anyone would have recognized it. I looked around and saw a team form around me of people I still work with today. I get emotional thinking about the amount of spaces we are lucky enough to have access to now—like Phillips on 432 Park Avenue. I get to present their artwork in the contexts I’ve always aimed for.
What’s the mission of your gallery program? With the current state of the world, who are the artists and what are the ideas that are important to show in your space?
Superposition focuses on artists who want to instill confidence in their communities. The artwork styles are such a huge range, like Helina Metafaria’s collages or Muna Malik’s abstract paintings. As individuals, the artists are all prolific and intentional. The ideas they are working through require being unapologetic and inspiring others to do the same; they know it’s not just about them. There’s a lot of inner work, research, and self-actualization in these studios before presenting objects that can affect the masses.
From your lens, as a Black woman artpreneur, what are some art-world predictions for 2022 and the near future?
I’m hopeful that the international art world gets closer again. In 2019, you could feel the energy of a globalist art market about to explode. Nomadic personalities like mine have really been stunted since the pandemic in that regard. I was in Taiwan looking at spaces just before the shutdown, so I’m sure a lot of people are eager to be sharing in person what has been hoarded in one location the past two years. Artworks need to have a longer life of traveling before they are archived.
