Any student trip to New York City is likely to offer a sense of what art looks like. Last November, Claude Wampler helped a group of students see what artists’ lives feel like. Wampler, the Ruffin Distinguished Artist-in-Residence, took the group on an immersive in-depth journey behind the creative curtains of the New York art world. For three days, they visited museums and galleries. They spoke with the editor of Artforum Magazine during a visit to the offices there. They met with a Museum of Modern Art curator and asked questions about his current exhibition. They toured the studios of the MFA students at NYU. And they gathered in professional artists’ working spaces for an intimate look at the way they create, live and even sleep (they spent their nights camped out in the loft of artist, John Tremblay). “We went to visit Ellen Harvey at her loft (and studio),” said Elise Sokolowski (College ‘14), currently in the midst of The Aunspaugh Fifth Year Fellowship. “Ellen told us everything: How she got started as an artist, her practice in public and studio art, detailed accounts of the thoughts and the work behind some of her biggest projects. I think hearing her stories and seeing her art firsthand while huddled around her coffee table sipping tea and eating pastries made for a very different experience than if she had come to our class and given a formal lecture. Maggie Goodman (College ‘15) was particularly inspired by a visit to artist Matthew Ronay’s studio. “I saw someone who shows up at his studio six days a week, and stays an average of ten hours a day – someone whose art is how he lives. Claude’s intimate knowledge of the New York art world and its members created this opportunity for us, and the weekend is already changing how I work, why I work, and the kind of work I want to do.”

~John Kelly

Claude Wampler:

It was a great honor to have the opportunity to take my diverse and talented students to New York City this Fall and attempt to give them a glimpse of something that may inspire their practices as young artists.They have written so eloquently about their individual experiences of the trip rendering it unnecessary for me to say another word…

Bridget Bailey:

Our trip to New York reaffirmed my dedication of my life to being an artist. It was also the most intimate visit I’d ever had with the city, I believe in large part due to our total emersion in the art scene—from museum to studio to gallery visits, to our communal sleeping space in a Williamsburg loft. Looking at art and hanging out with working artists was more real and vivid and sensory and memorable and inspiring than most any art viewing or art talk experiences I’d had to date. At moments of the trip, I’d feel these powerful ripples of reassurance in my art practice and current projects—thinking, I’ve got to keep this going, to be part of this momentum I see and feel all around me.It was of course also very much a reality check as to the odds of “making it” as an artist, but even that felt exciting: the “art world” seemed fathomable for the first time, and also a not so scary place, sort of insular, rather a matrix that is necessary for keeping art and artists alive and well and permeating. At the end of a really long day, as we all sat on the floor of the NYU art building, a recent MFA grad told us her life story as an artist up to present, and that felt so good and close and reassuring—that yes, she was an extraordinary human to have made it this far, but it didn’t feel so far, and our class, “baby artists” that we are (yet a formidable, supportive collective, for sure) none the less could make it to right there too, if that’s what we want to do. So, I keep making.

Caroline Nilsson:

From our NYC trip, the thing that struck me the most, and the most often, was what having a life as an artist could actually look like. Until this trip, I hadn't really seen a working artist's practice, living situation, or the means by which they are able to make things work. It was crazy and humbling to realize the amount of accidents and chance go into anyone's life, the fact that nobody ends up where they plan to be. In a way though, that fact is incredibly exciting. Every place that we visited, every artist, had created these floating little worlds for themselves; lofts in which they have built their homes, studios where their work blooms into existence. It is all up to them, their own design, their lives are a manifestation of what they have done with the opportunities presented to them, or opportunities they have made for themselves. Especially Ellen Harvey, with her graffiti work, The Beautification Project, that “put her on the map”. Nobody told her to do that, and there was no guarantee as to what would come for it. Making art is about risk and about believing in the story you are trying to tell and jumping fearlessly into whichever passions compel you.

Ava Lonergan:

Our trip to New York City in November was a whirlwind of museums, galleries, and studio visits. On the second day we explored the Chelsea, and in the first few galleries most of us were judging and analyzing the art based on whether we liked it or not. There was a lot of "I like this painting, the colors are cool," or, "I don't like this drawing, the patterns don't work together." By the third or fourth gallery, Claude brought us together as a group and told us to stop analyzing the work in terms of whether or not we liked it; instead, think about work in the context of the contemporary art world: How did it get in this gallery? How does it compare to other work we're seeing in similar galleries or museums? What is its significance or role in the contemporary art world? It was definitely not an easy transition (I missed deciding on whether or not I liked something and then quickly moving on), but it made me think about art in a completely different way throughout the rest of the trip. Studio visits with artists were incredibly interesting and influential and helped give some "behind-the-scenes" information on the nature of the contemporary art world and how it works. All-in-all, our trip to NYC was not just about looking at art, it was about experiencing the art world and considering how and why it functions the way it does, and realizing just how difficult it is to break into such a competitive world.

Elise Sokolowski:

During my college career, I have participated in a couple NYC art-excursion-class-trips.  The weekends are always characterized by a fast paced hustle and bustle between museums, galleries, and lectures. The return trip home the Monday after is always a quiet one, everyone happily exhausted and overwhelmed by art. The trip this November with Claude was no different: We got to see lots and lots of art. However, what did set it apart were the studio visits and private lectures. Each day of the trip, we got to visit with an artist, curator, or publisher (and sometimes both). On the Friday we arrived, we met with Peter Eleey at MoMA who curated the Sturtevant: Double Trouble exhibition. It was a quick meeting, gathered in the hallway as we exited the exhibition space, but it was a unique experience to talk to the guy who had put together the retrospective we just experienced. And then, right after that, we went to the Artforum Magazine office and met with Knight Landesman, head publisher. I realized then that this NYC trip would be different than the others. The next morning we went to visit Ellen Harvey at her loft (and studio). She told us everything: How she got started as an artist, her practice in public and studio art, and detailed accounts of the thoughts and work behind some her biggest projects. I think hearing (and seeing) first hand her stories and art in such a intimate setting – our class huddled around her coffee table sipping tea and eating pastries – made for a very different experience than if she had come to our class and given a formal lecture. As students we are “baby” artists, completely unsure how or what our next steps are going to be. Getting to hear artists talk about their story and evolution in a more personal way, gives us just the slightest bit of reassurance we might just be able to figure it out too.

On Sunday, we visited Matthew Ronay’s studio before we checked out the museum PS1. Matthew seemed a little quieter, a little more reserved than Ellen. Our visit wasn’t quiet as cozy, yet just as influential and informative. He talked about his life as an artist in New York, his venture into the gallery world, and discussed in depth one of his newest projects. Hanging on his studio walls were 50 plus small prints: Delicate, intricate, beautiful, and all in stunning deep purple hue. They were unexpected (he is know for his large scale sculpture work) but so intriguing; I couldn’t help but stare at them the entire time. He told us the whole story behind the project: The first kernel of an idea, the process and realization of that idea, and then the final stage of getting the work out in the world. He talked of how important his routine was in the making of the prints, the almost performative process he took each day in creating the series.  He likened making one or two of those purple prints a day to a routine as necessary as eating breakfast or riding his bike.  It was something that I don’t think we could have ever learned if we had seen the work in a book or gallery. This kind of insight was something we could only get from talking in person.

The NYC trip this year was non-stop art as per usual but it was the first time I’ve felt almost immersed or at least given an in depth look into the art world. We got to witness first hand the practices of artists, curators, and publishers, heck; we even got to sleep on the floor of artist John Tremblay’s studio! Nothing more authentic than that, right? Trips to NYC are always important for a studio class – the works students encounter change and inspire the way they see their own artistic practice – and now, after this year’s special trip, I’m excited to see what work our class has up it’s sleeves.

Jessica Burnam:

The most valuable experience was meeting working artists and hearing them speak passionately about their art-making practices. My resolve to grow in my own artistic development has been strengthened. The trip was an inspiration and an encouragement; I feel further affirmed of my artistic vocation.

Maggie Goodman:

For three days we visited museums, studios, the offices of Artforum Magazine, the NYU MFA program, and galleries; we were immersed in art. While I value the university’s liberal arts mission, the real opportunity that weekend was to focus entirely on art. This New York trip, like the Distinguished Major Program, was about discovering and harnessing that kind of exclusive focus, a kind of focus rare in a liberal arts education. During their fourth year, most liberal arts majors evaluate the possible utility of their studies post-graduation. Arts majors are no different. The New York offered a chance to delve into these questions. The studio visits offered the chance not just to see how professional artists function in their work, but also how their work functions in their lives. The visit to Matthew Ronay’s studio made the strongest impression on me. I saw someone who shows up at his studio six days a week, and stays an average of ten hours a day, someone whose art is how he lives. Seeing the demands of this kind of life, as well as its satisfaction, was a rare opportunity. Claude’s intimate knowledge of the New York art world and its members created this opportunity for us. This immersive weekend is already changing how I work, why I work, and what kind of work I want to do.

Esther Eigers:

The NYC trip was a whirlwind; running to various places in the Big Apple, visiting MoMA, PS1, various artist’s studios, and art galleries. The visit also included meeting the graduate art students from NYU. It was a draining exposition being confronted with such important and progressive projects and people. Each morning I was excited to explore the art of New York City.

Of all the sites our group visited, one location that stood out was our visit to the Artforum offices. We had the pleasure of meeting Knight Landesman, a publisher for the magazine. Knight took time to talk us about the difficulties of living as an emerging artist and the possible keys to being a successful and celebrated artist in the 21st century. As a young artist, I know that the majority of our group have dreams of being recognized for our work, but it is very important to place both feet on the ground and think of the amount of work it will take to get there. Though we all have good intentions and aspirations, life in general is going to have various demands that can sidetrack us from our ultimate goals. New York City in particular can make living as an artist difficult; there are so many distractions. Our talk with Knight really made me think about where I want to be in the future and if art fits into that path.  All in all, the discussion was very informative and helped give me guidance for my future plans.

Nina Thomas:

New York was a dream. I feel like a dweeb saying so, but the amount that we did and saw over the course of a single weekend made everything feel surreal (the middle-of the-night bus rides on either end of the trip probably helped with that surreal feeling, too, but fittingly). The weekend was crazy, fascinating, beautiful, exhausting (in the most rewarding way), and wonderfully jam-packed. We went to museums and galleries, had studio visits, and we visited the Artforum Magazine offices.

The sheer amount of material that we were seeing was incredible, and seeing it all in such close proximity helped me process, to compare, to contrast and to put into context. It was an immersive art-filled weekend. At first, it was a little hard for me to connect with all of the art that I was seeing on the walls of MoMA or in the Chelsea galleries. I was fascinated by what I was seeing, and I was inspired, and I loved being there to see it, but I didn’t know what it all meant for me, as an art student or a young artist. I didn’t know how to connect to the New York art world that I was seeing, which seemed kind of distant and unattainable. Being able to hear from real people, however, and being welcomed into the studio spaces of working artists was eye-opening and helped make everything more tangible, more understandable, more engaging. We read about the Elaine Sturtevant show at MoMA on the bus up to New York, and there we were, after fewer than ten hours in the city, listening to Peter Eleey, the show’s curator, talk about his experience curating it. We could ask questions, in the moment, about the works we had just seen. That same evening, we had the pleasure of sitting inside the Artforum Magazine offices — being there was a dream in itself — in the warm company of publisher Knight Landesman. Our time at Artforum turned into a time to reflect about how we see ourselves as artists (or not) in the future, and felt more encouraging and inspiring than I imagined possible, given the overwhelming idea of “trying to make it” in the art world.

My favorite aspect of the trip was the studio visits. It felt magical to be invited into Matthew Ronay’s Long Island City studio, and into Ellen Harvey’s lovely Brooklyn loft. It was a privilege to see their workspaces, and to see what they’re working on and how they work on it. But above all, it was so, so, so nice to just listen to them talk about what they are doing and what they are thinking and how they go about getting things done. I felt the same way listening to young artist Cheryl Bentley talk about her own work. I was fascinated. Even though we couldn’t make it to her studio, I felt welcomed by her in the lobby of NYU MFA building. I was most inspired to see these artists sharing their ideas. The graduate students’ Open Studios at NYU were neat to see for much the same reasons: To hear about what these graduate students are working on and thinking about started to make me more aware of my relationship to my own projects. And it was great to talk to the students, because in some ways grad school seems like the next logical step (even though I know I am far from ready for it at the moment).

Ending the trip at the Xavier Le Roy retrospective at MoMA PS1 was really beautiful. I felt like I could sit in that lovely space for hours upon hours watching the most elegant, natural, powerful movement of the dancers, and listening to their real and heartfelt stories. I felt like I was being let into something special, intimate. It was nice to end the trip back in a museum space, but with conversations that were touching and personal and engaging (in similar ways to the studio visits).

The New York trip was also a great opportunity to get to know all of the other DMP and Fifth-Year students better. Although I already knew everyone in the class, and although I know some of my classmates very well, the weekend was the first time we were all spending time together outside of the classroom (there’s nothing like close quarters—many, many, many thanks to John Tremblay for allowing us to feel so at home at his great loft.).

Julia Lowman:

Our trip to New York was incredible. We saw a huge amount of work by very contemporary artists, which allows us to enter into conversation with the current art scene through our own work. The most enlightening parts of the trip for me were the studio visits that Claude arranged for us. We were able to see the actual spaces in which Matthew Ronay and Ellen Harvey work and talk to them about their experience living as artists in New York City, as well as ask questions about their work. Especially since they have very different practices, we could see that there is not just one way to be a successful artist. Every artist finds a way to make things work for him or her. It was a privilege and a rare treat to meet these artists and see their spaces.

I loved the Xavier Le Roy retrospective at PS1. When we entered the gallery, there were several dancers moving around the room, with the visitors among them. In a way that seemed very natural, one of the dancers gathered a group of people and began to tell the story of her as a dancer, performing short pieces of various dances. As we listened to several of these testimonies, we began to realize that the performances were fragments of Xavier Le Roy’s pieces, and the stories those of the dancers themselves combined with details from Xavier LeRoi’s own biography. As artists, we often strive to capture the intersection of art and life in our work as a way to reach the viewer in a meaningful way. This exhibition/performance felt as though it were doing just that, with such ease that we were unaware that it was happening. The genuine experience of hearing the personal stories of these dancers made the piece come together in such a way that it hardly seemed choreographed at all. The fact that this was all thought out and planned beforehand made it all the more magical.

Hannah Varden:

There’s a whole world of contemporary art that I feel I have never had access to, both in the sense of being where it is displayed and in the sense of being able to articulate coherent thoughts about it beyond a basic value judgment. The opportunity to travel to New York thrust me into this world of art that had previously, and continues to, make me uncomfortable. It is humbling to have to stand in front of work that you feel you have no training to break down, no intelligent thought to produce, no way to relate to, no context from which you can fall back on. All too often in the little bubble that is the University of Virginia and the surrounding Charlottesville community, I forget how important it is to be made uneasy, to have to fight to find my words, and to have the guts to articulate a thought that I’m not convinced is the “right” answer.  Perhaps not in the moment of being confronted with my initial feelings of inadequacy, but certainly now upon reflection I greatly value the challenge that New York provided and the incredible diversity of art making and art practice that it made me aware of.

Anna Bickers:

Our trip to New York City was refreshing, eye opening, and inspiring. We had an incredible opportunity to immerse ourselves in art for 3 days, in the most prolific art-making city in America. We visited museums, galleries, and attended guided tours. The most valuable part of the trip, I thought, was the time that we got to spend with working artists and art students. We had studio visits with several artists, who are professionally and successfully making art today. They spoke to us about the realities of creating art, the difficulties, and the rewards. It was completely and uniquely valuable to spend that time with these artists and hear them speak about their history and current practice. My favorite portion of the trip was the night we visited the NYU graduate student studios. On certain Saturdays, NYU grad students open their studio doors to whomever wishes to come see what they have been working on. This was especially interesting for us, as art students, to see other students’ processes. It was also a good look into what the next few years might look like, if we choose to pursue our MFAs. We had the opportunity to speak with several graduate students about their work, our work, and the experience that graduate school provides. I found this to be the most inspiring part of the trip, and it really motivated me to make more work, and make more worthwhile work. Our trip to New York was busy and hectic, but so satisfying. I am so thankful to have had the opportunity to make this trip and absorb so much art.

Quincy Darbyshire:

The New York trip was an eye-opening experience. Being able to see career artists in their working environments was an invaluable experience for us to have. We got to see the practical sides to how these artists make their living and had the chance to ask them questions about their work and how they fit into the art “industry”. I also enjoyed being able to visit museums and galleries with Claude as our guide. She taught us what questions we needed to ask ourselves about the artwork in order to look at it in a more engaged way. The trip also helped the DMP class bond as a group, preparing us for the collaboration we will have endure in the spring for our fourth year thesis shows.

Angelica Verdan:

Though I’ve visited New York plenty of times, it was the first time I had really seen the art world there. From museums and galleries to studio visits, we were all over the city. Looking back now, the trip to New York was extremely revealing and very formative for me as a young artist. The various spaces we visited each gave a different taste of the art scene in New York. I’ve never seen such a high volume of art in such a short time span before. It was difficult for me to stay critical of every piece. Most of the time, I found myself uncomfortable. I only truly felt at ease around anything digital, a familiar world and language. Why did I feel so out of place? There was so much I didn’t know or understand.

The most revealing and critical event for me was a talk with Knight Landesman at Artforum. There he revealed to us one “formula” for success as an artist. Success means galleries and museums showing your work, collectors buying your work and art press writing about it. This revelation didn’t sit well with me. I wasn’t convinced of this definition for success. Given all the art we saw, I questioned if I wanted to be a part of the system at all. Why should I even be an artist? It took some time after our trip for me to reach any clarity. After some debriefing and discussion, I realized that the New York art world was just a system, not the system. Ultimately, it was up to me to decide what defines my success as an artist.

Mina Pirasteh:

Inspiring. Engaging. Incredible. I had been to New York before, but not like this.  We did not simply skim across the top of the vast art world in the city, we submerged.  Our trip to New York was a whirlwind of galleries, exhibits, art, and artists, and we could not have had a better teacher.  Claude planned an incredible weekend of art exploration that took us through MoMA, PS1, countless smaller galleries on smaller streets and into the offices, homes and studios of her colleagues working in art who took the time to talk with us about the many facets of the art world today; from galleries, artists, publications, to consumers.  As a wonderful bonus, our stay in the fantastic art studio/loft of John Tremblay was incredibly fun, and made us all feel closer to the city and to one another.  At the end of the weekend I felt I’d taken an entire course in the state of the art world today and had seen and experienced so much art, my view of the entire discipline expanded.  The trip was more than just beautiful, more than just exhilaratingly fun, it was indispensable.

Andrea Parra:

NYC is mysticism. The most influential poets, authors and artists have romanticized it across history as an icon of grandeur and cultural prowess. As the mecca of contemporary culture, those who understand of beauty and the more important things in life have been drawn to its streets in the hope of making their way as artists. We know the story too well. We see it in Kerouac and Fitzgerald and Allens’ characters. We see it in the Broadway dreamers and I see it in me and in my classmates, dreaming of the NYC skyline as the landscape for our success.

NYC is mysticism. The most influential poets, authors and artists have romanticized it across history as an icon of grandeur and cultural prowess. As the mecca of contemporary culture, those who understand of beauty and the more important things in life have been drawn to its streets in the hope of making their way as artists. We know the story too well. We see it in Kerouac and Fitzgerald and Allens’ characters. We see it in the Broadway dreamers and I see it in me and in my classmates, dreaming of the NYC skyline as the landscape for our success.

As we trekked the cement trails of NYC, one thing I found true: The universal dream that we are after is chased by all kinds of people. With a common dream, I would have guessed a common demographic, but NYC was the most beautiful circus of misfits. They clothed themselves in suits and leather and rags, and guided by the circus master, we met them all.

We learned of the art market, which was compared by Knight Landesman to a box, with four important beams to keep its integrity. In his red suite he talked about the art critiques and the collectors and the museums and the galleries. He talked about the unseen world that hid behind those four beams and despite his efforts, that box was one shade too dark. Its contents remained hidden from me, and I couldn’t tell if opening Pandora’s box would result in fame or tragedy. But that is the beauty of the art world isn’t it? No matter how hard you try, will you ever know what art is? Will you understand why the greatest artist died in rags? Can you understand what makes one of the misfits in a suit drop all his money on a single work? The art world thrives in keeping these questions unanswered, and in surrounding itself and the city that hosts it with a veil of romantic mysticism. It might have been this that made me uncomfortable. There is such mysticism surrounding the city that its inhabitants go about like wizards, knowing the secrets of art, what it is and what it should be. And in the midst of this surreal world I felt mortal, not knowing the answers to those questions, but burning to find them.

But as I said before, the circus’ diversity allowed for all sorts of stories. This is where Ellen Harvey should be mentioned. The circus master took us to Ellen’s house, where we learned of her art practice, which contrasted notoriously with anything we had seen so far. She is a woman who can undertake any project—no matter how great it is—and will see it to completion. I was amazed by her versatility and follow through. It seemed to me that her creativity thrived from the constraints set by the demands of the institutions commissioning her work and pushed her to undertake the craziest deeds to see it completed. And despite this, she seemed to be living unaffected by the infantile egos so many of the artists that I’ve come across call their signatures. She gave the impression that she could undertake anything and make it her own.

For the 4 days that I was immersed in this parade, I couldn’t help but to play the roles of all the characters around me and dream of what my life would be if their shoes were mine. This made it an exhausting trip for it offered endless possibilities, but above all it confirmed my suspicions that as an artist you can create your costume and become any kind of misfit. In this wonderful circus, you can be anything and with all my strength, I want to join.