Over the last few years, one of the most meaningful parts of running the gallery has been meeting artists, photographers, writers, designers, curators, and creative thinkers from all over New York. One thing I hear constantly is how difficult it can be to find real creative community in this city. Not networking in the transactional sense, but genuine connection. A place to work, think, exchange ideas, and be surrounded by people who are serious about what they are building.

At the same time, I have also been overwhelmed in the best possible way by the number of artists inviting me into their studios. I wish I could visit every single one. Realistically, there are only so many hours in a week.

So I started thinking differently.

What if we created a space where the community naturally came together under one roof? A space where I could engage with artists and creatives more consistently and organically, while also creating a thoughtful environment for people to actually work and grow alongside one another.

That is the beginning of The Practice.

The idea is simple. A small, intentional coworking space inside a working contemporary art gallery. Quiet, beautiful, welcoming, and deeply creative. A space designed for people who are building something meaningful, whether that is a painting practice, a photography portfolio, a magazine, a fashion line, a film treatment, a creative agency, or simply carving out time to think clearly in a city that rarely slows down.

The Practice would remain intentionally small. Around twenty members at a time. Admission would be application-based and rotating to keep the energy fresh, engaged, and community-driven.

Members would work inside the gallery surrounded by rotating exhibitions, changing artwork, and thoughtful programming. There would be openings, critique nights, creative conversations, workshops, and gatherings that feel inspiring rather than performative. Membership could also potentially lead to opportunities to participate in future group exhibitions and projects with the gallery.

Most importantly, I want this to feel warm.

Not a space with phone booths and forced networking. Not another members’ club built around exclusivity for the sake of exclusivity. The goal is to create something inviting, ambitious, and creatively alive. The kind of place where someone editing photographs across the table sparks a conversation with a writer finishing a manuscript or a painter preparing for their first exhibition.

The space itself is still evolving, and before making decisions around layout, pricing, hours, and amenities, I want to hear directly from the community.

What would actually make a creative workspace feel useful to you?

What do most studio spaces get wrong? What do you wish existed? Do you need quiet? Community? Long work tables? Critiques? Natural light? Good coffee? Events? Accountability? A place to take meetings? A place to disappear into your work for a few hours?

We are listening first.

For those unfamiliar, “Shibumi” is a Japanese concept that loosely translates to effortless perfection. A quiet and understated beauty. Something refined without trying too hard. That feeling has always guided the gallery, and it would guide this space too.

If this resonates with you, even loosely, I would genuinely love to hear your thoughts.