Artists, Galleries, and the Washington Post
by Richard Speer
November 16, 2024
Anselm Kiefer, “Deutschlands Geisteshelden (Germany’s Spiritual Heroes),”
1973, oil and charcoal on burlap mounted on canvas, 120 1/2 x 267 3/4”. Courtesy of The Broad, Los Angeles.
For years I’ve subscribed to the online edition of the Washington Post, which for decades has been a premier exemplar of watchdog journalism in the service of an informed, engaged electorate. That is, until owner Jeff Bezos recently prevented the paper from publishing its presidential endorsement. Still, their political reportage is legendary, and I also enjoy their arts coverage, which, for a daily newspaper, has been second only to the New York Times for cultural reporting, features, and reviews of the art forms I care about: visual art, classical music, opera, dance, books, and film. Over the past several months, however, the Post has sent some alarming messages to those of us who value the arts, particularly those of us who believe artists and art galleries play a crucial role in enriching our personal and civic lives.
This latest follows a widespread trend in the newspaper industry that already struck the West Coast’s flagship papers, starting with the Los Angeles Times (whose owner, Patrick Soon-Shoing followed Bezos’ lead, quashing that paper’s planned endorsement of Kamala Harris), San Francisco Chronicle, and San Diego Union. All of these papers now maintain arts coverage that is a mere shadow of what it was a generation ago.
Pamela J. Crook, “Arts and Books,” 1986, acrylic on canvas, 40 x 52”. Courtesy of the artist.
On August 25th, the Washington Post ceased their weekly regional arts column, “In the Galleries.” For thirteen years, columnist Mark Jenkins had been the eyes and ears of Washington, D.C.-area gallery-goers, offering insights, tips, and critiques of local and regional exhibitions. After the cancelation, the paper released a statement insisting it “remains committed to local art coverage, including galleries and museums, across all platforms.” How eliminating a longstanding local arts column demonstrates commitment to local arts coverage escapes me. Such an affront might not sting as much if the Post were not owned, since 2013, by the second wealthiest person in the world. So much for noblesse oblige. Nor might it have felt so discouraging if the column hadn’t been canned on the heels of 240 Post staffers being let go in October 2023 via voluntary separation packages.
Bezos and the paper’s senior leadership are adamant that the Post must stop hemorrhaging money (a reported $100 million loss in 2023) and become financially self-sustainable. I get that. Times change, technologies and consumer habits evolve, and businesses have to adapt, right? And yet there are paradigms we value that resolutely do not adapt; art forms we seek out hundreds or thousands of years after their heyday, which somehow never becomes obsolete. We hold these forms close to our hearts for their merging of anachronistic stubbornness and transcendent timelessness: Gothic cathedrals, Renaissance paintings, Greek and Shakespearean plays, Bach fugues, the Verdi Requiem … We do not dismiss these from their exalted position because more people in 2024 would rather put on a V.R. headset and play video games than head to a concert hall to take in a Mahler symphony. In other words, the canon still matters.
Jaume Plensa, “Behind the Walls,” 2018, polyester resin and marble dust, 295 1/4 x 109 5/8 x 122”.
Installation view, Rockefeller Center, New York. Courtesy of Richard Gray Gallery, Chicago.
Perhaps we should think of quality journalism, including art criticism, as an anachronism worth underwriting — journalism as high culture, essential to the human spirit, not as a business model to be trimmed, gutted, homogenized, and transmogrified in the name of profitability. Maybe old-fashioned philanthropy of the Andrew Carnegie stripe — along with the likes of J.P. Morgan, Isabella Stewart Gardner, Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, Armand Hammer, Peggy Guggenheim, J. Paul Getty, Eli Broad — can save our legacy newsrooms and the arts coverage they provide us. Museums, opera companies, and dance troupes don’t presume to depend on ticket sales alone; why should newspapers exist solely on subscriptions?
Paging Mr. Bezos and Dr. Soon-Shiong: If you value American democracy and the stable global economy that enables your billion-dollar fortunes, a free press is essential. If you’re really committed to your trophy newspapers, you should be opening your wallets wider and protecting the integrity of your editorial voice more vigorously, not bowing to budgetary or political pressure and dictating what your Opinion editors may or may not publish until your newsrooms are reduced to ghost ships.
Interior designer and lifestyle creator Ben Nelson suggests referencing sites like Houzz or Pinterest
to make a difference in the sophistication of a room. Courtesy of the Washington Post. Photo: Ben Nelson.
It disappoints but doesn’t surprise me that a well-regarded column about local and regional art galleries was axed by a prestigious daily paper serving our nation’s capital. Five days before “In the Galleries” got canned, the Post ran an article — actually, let’s call it what it was, a “listicle” — offering readers tips on improving their home décor, including their art collections. Not once did it mention artists or galleries. That’s sort of like printing a recipe for the perfect omelet without mentioning eggs or a skillet. This is the caliber of “art” feature you get when you cancel a column of thoughtful art criticism.
Entitled “11 ways to make your apartment look like it belongs to a real adult” and written by Sophia Solano, it admonished recent college grads to “Up your wall art game.” The phrase “wall art,” with its icky, interior-decorator-y undertones, makes my teeth hurt and my knee jerk. Putting the “wall” before the “art” implies that art isn’t something we choose with care, to be cherished and passed down to our progeny, but merely some expedient tchotchke to paper over those pesky bare walls. Some of Solano’s tips were straightforward, if banal, others downright dubious. Hang up photos of friends and family. Print out free images of artworks from museums’ websites. Cut up pieces of “cheap rugs” to frame as abstract compositions. “They’ll end up looking really high end, like luxury pieces,” we’re told by interior designer Meghan Gallagher. Yes, you read that right, I’m not making this up.
Honoré Daumier, “The Print Collector,” c. 1860, oil on panel, 13 7/16 x 10 1/4”.
Courtesy of the Philadelphia Museum of Art.
Here, if I may, are some recommendations Solano did not suggest but should have: Visit a local gallery. Look around, see what catches your eye. Strike up a conversation with the owner, director, or front-desk associate. Ask questions: What can you tell me about the artists, their backgrounds, and their ideas? Next, go to another gallery and repeat. Get on mailing lists. Attend openings and talks. Do a web search for artists in your area. Visit their websites and social-media accounts, read their bios, and if you’re wild about their work, contact them and ask if you can visit their studios. You’d be surprised how many will say yes. If you see an artwork in the studio or a gallery, don’t hesitate to pull out your credit card and buy it — not as an investment to flip for profit (that rarely happens outside the echelons of Christie’s and Sotheby’s anyway), but as an investment in your visual pleasure, quality of life, and the satisfaction of supporting a local artist or business you believe in.
A lot has been debated over the last few years about the decline of mid-level galleries, the types of galleries that the Post’s Jenkins used to cover and which I used to write about for Willamette Week in Portland, Oregon. These occupy a different universe from the kitschy beach-town emporia where you find souvenir paintings of palm trees and sailboats. They’re also several rungs less exclusive than mega-galleries like Gagosian, Zwirner, and Hauser & Wirth, which cater to the one percent. Mid-market galleries tend to be staffed with friendly, approachable staff; they can’t afford to be standoffish. Go to their events month after month and you’ll see the same faces attending, from young collectors to seasoned connoisseurs, exchanging ideas and contact info over red wine and brie. Introduce yourself, hang out, keep your ears open. You’ll learn a lot about art and make new friends in the process.
David Hockney, “Mr. and Mrs. Clark and Percy,” 1970-71, acrylic on canvas, 84 x 120”. Courtesy of the Tate Gallery, London.
As with so many businesses, commercial art galleries have been changing extensively in the digital age. Artists who depend solely on the gallery system don’t get the sales they used to. The more adroit among them are migrating from brick-and-mortar galleries to online platforms, such as Instagram and TikTok, on which they can show colleagues, fans, and potential collectors their work without mediation. It’s possible to make a good living catering to consumers who’ll buy a painting, print, sculpture, or NFT based on a tiny image on a smartphone. I applaud artists who adapt to the times, but I believe something vital is lost when we no longer interact with artworks, artists, and fellow art-lovers in real time and space. Art connects us to our shared histories and humanity; take away that connection and we’re left with a soulless and airless white cube: commodity without community or context.
It’s a new world, alas, when billionaires, starting with Mr. Bezos, who could endow news organizations in perpetuity without breaking a sweat, insist that profitability ranks higher than public service. It has produced a new generation of feature reporters and design consultants who urge readers to slap carpet swatches on the wall, call it art, and call it a day. Both paradigms — the former in macrocosm, the latter in microcosm — discount the vital importance of artists and their support systems, commercial galleries included. Fortunately, there are still artists and galleries dedicated to bucking the trends. They continue to produce and exhibit substantive work that advances aesthetic discourse and civic life. Reach out to them, engage with them person to person, and reward yourself with art that fills your spirit, not merely your walls.
