Zoe Fisher is an art student turned gallerist whose first space was born out of an undergraduate thesis project that imagined an alternative art space. Since then, she’s run a DIY artist-run space, a traditional white cube gallery, and is now curating and working with artists independently. We spoke with Zoe about the artists she has in her living room right now, blurring the lines between art and design, and how she’s thinking about curating and building community in a post-pandemic world.
How did you end up in the art world?
I ended up in the art world in a pretty organic way. I had a studio practice of my own in college, where I focused on sculpture, art history, and design. I loved making work but ultimately found that I enjoyed the conversations and connections made with my artist peers more than I liked showing my own work. My thesis paper was this insane 30-page manifesto for an alternative gallery space which aimed to merge the worlds of art and design (10 years ago that line was not as blurred as it is now). As soon as I graduated, I opened it — HANDJOB Gallery/Store (HJGS) was a gallery and shop that invited artists who had never worked in design or functional object-making to make an edition of objects by hand that were by their own definition “functional.” The goal was to merge the (then) largely disparate fields of art and design and to offer a space in which artists could explore uncharted territory in their practice. This project opened me up to a huge network of artists, designers and gallerists very quickly!
HJGS started as an online shop, but I needed a space to store and show the work occasionally too. A few of my girlfriends (Simran Johnston and Riley Strom) were also looking for studios for their own art practices and in looking we found this beautiful little old 99¢ Store in Bushwick (near where most of us lived and worked) that had been shut for years. It was cheaper for us all to share it and had so much extra space that we ended up having enough room for three artist studios, a storefront shop for HJGS, and an extra space we decided to make into a collective artist run gallery.
Enter 99¢ Plus Gallery. None of us had any experience, but we all jumped in and started curating exhibitions and inviting friends to curate shows with us. We ran 99¢ Plus Gallery and HJGS for three years and, without initially setting out to, created something really special and built a community of artists and friends that have been the foundation of everything I have ever done since.
HJGS started as an online shop, but I needed a space to store and show the work occasionally too. A few of my girlfriends (Simran Johnston and Riley Strom) were also looking for studios for their own art practices and in looking we found this beautiful little old 99¢ Store in Bushwick (near where most of us lived and worked) that had been shut for years. It was cheaper for us all to share it and had so much extra space that we ended up having enough room for three artist studios, a storefront shop for HJGS, and an extra space we decided to make into a collective artist run gallery.
Enter 99¢ Plus Gallery. None of us had any experience, but we all jumped in and started curating exhibitions and inviting friends to curate shows with us. We ran 99¢ Plus Gallery and HJGS for three years and, without initially setting out to, created something really special and built a community of artists and friends that have been the foundation of everything I have ever done since.
What is currently hanging in your living room?
Currently hanging in my living room is an amazing bonnet painting by Caitlin MacBride from our show at Fisher Parrish earlier this year. I fell in love with this painting as soon as it came through the door!
I also have a huge six-foot painting by Aaron Elvis Jupin I am borrowing for the time being but will probably have to buy because I’m obsessed with it and can’t imagine letting it go, a small Black Butterfly painting by Alexander Harrison from our first show together, a Sasha Gordon work on paper, and a great green painting by Rainen Knecht who is an Oregon-based artist I love (I have a secret obsession with buying green paintings ever since someone told me “green paintings never sell”).
I also have a huge six-foot painting by Aaron Elvis Jupin I am borrowing for the time being but will probably have to buy because I’m obsessed with it and can’t imagine letting it go, a small Black Butterfly painting by Alexander Harrison from our first show together, a Sasha Gordon work on paper, and a great green painting by Rainen Knecht who is an Oregon-based artist I love (I have a secret obsession with buying green paintings ever since someone told me “green paintings never sell”).
Caitlin MacBride's Peripheral Vision (2018) hanging in Zoe's living room.
What was your first art purchase and why that piece?
The first art purchase I can think of right now was a painting on paper by Berlin-based artist Maren Karlson. She was one of the first artists who we invited to do a show at 99¢ Plus and it was the first show where we felt like we were really doing it the way galleries are supposed to: she was an international artist, we shipped the work, paid for framing, and she even flew out for the opening! So fancy. I bought one of her surreal little paintings on paper for something to the tune of $300 (which felt like so, so much money for me as a recent grad). It’s hanging in my bedroom right now.
“I have a secret obsession with buying green paintings ever since someone told me ‘green paintings never sell.’”
What would you like Zoe Fisher Projects to be known for?
I would like Zoe Fisher Projects to be known for its relationships with artists more than anything.
It’s super important to me that a community is built around us as there was with HJGS, 99¢ Plus, and Fisher Parrish. We were known for our insanely packed openings that spilled through the streets with a community of mostly artists (and the occasional collector — thank goodness, ha!). Because I don’t have a physical space right now and we’re in the midst of the pandemic, it’s all about my personal relationships with artists and collectors right now — it will be interesting to figure out how to illustrate that to the public in a new way.
It’s also very important to me that I continue to create a space in which the lines between art and design are blurred. I will continue to do projects with artists/designers (I use those terms pretty interchangeably), and show object-based functional works alongside paintings and more “fine art.”
It’s also very important to me that I continue to create a space in which the lines between art and design are blurred. I will continue to do projects with artists/designers (I use those terms pretty interchangeably), and show object-based functional works alongside paintings and more “fine art.”
Caitlin MacBride, Jean and Jane, 2020, oil on panel, 24 x 18 inches (61 x 45.8 cm)
A packed opening at Fisher Parrish in 2017.
Are there any recent additions to your roster and how did you discover those artists?
I am really excited to start working with Bay Area-based artist Maureen St. Vincent. We are planning a show for 2021. Maureen does beautiful pastels on paper that I was initially drawn to because of their frames — she makes these beautiful painted and sculpted wood frames to protect her fragile pastels. For me, they turn her soft and dreamy pastels into tangible portals to another world — into an object I want to grab off the wall and take home with me so I can always enter into their surreal dreamscape. Her work is full of symbolism and she’s also a total art history buff with references to art historical paintings throughout most of her work.
I found Maureen’s work on Instagram, I believe, or possibly through another artist (that's usually how I find artists). We met over a FaceTime at first and then I went to visit her in SF and I immediately felt like I had known her forever.
I found Maureen’s work on Instagram, I believe, or possibly through another artist (that's usually how I find artists). We met over a FaceTime at first and then I went to visit her in SF and I immediately felt like I had known her forever.
Maureen St. Vincent, Tic Toc, 2018, soft pastel on paper with artist-made frame and museum glass, 24 x 21 inches (61 x 53.3 cm)
“I’ve had the traditional white cube gallery (Fisher Parrish) and the DIY artist-run space that changed colors every exhibition (99¢ Plus). Perhaps this is my third wave –– a more fluid one. Whether in a park, in a friend’s home, online, or in another gallery, I’m freed up to think about curating exhibitions in a different way.”
What is the best and hardest part of running Zoe Fisher Projects?
Not having a space is definitely the hardest part. It’s a double-edged sword, though, because at the same time not having a space has created a ton of freedom and given me the ability to do projects I’ve never been able to do before — not just curating exhibitions, but producing editions and working with other galleries. It’s made me a little more creative and brought me back to a sort of guerilla-style way of curating. For instance, I wanted to show Gustav Hamilton’s new series of ceramic table sculptures, so I brought them to Cooper Park in Brooklyn and had an outdoor, one-day exhibition. It was so much fun and we did super well!
I’ve had the traditional white cube gallery (Fisher Parrish) and the DIY artist-run space that changed colors every exhibition (99¢ Plus). Perhaps this is my third wave — a more fluid one. Whether in a park, in a friend’s home, online, or in another gallery, I’m freed up to think about curating exhibitions in a different way.
I’ve had the traditional white cube gallery (Fisher Parrish) and the DIY artist-run space that changed colors every exhibition (99¢ Plus). Perhaps this is my third wave — a more fluid one. Whether in a park, in a friend’s home, online, or in another gallery, I’m freed up to think about curating exhibitions in a different way.
Gustav Hamilton, Mirror to Mirror, 2019, glazed ceramic, 13 x 16 inches (33.1 x 40.7 cm)
Can you tell us about one of the pieces or artists currently featured in your Parlor collection?
The large blue Tricia Keightley piece on Parlor was in one of our first shows at Fisher Parrish and I completely fell in love with it. Tricia’s paintings are what she calls “mechanical abstractions.” They’re beautiful compositions of oddly familiar structures that look like something that actually functions and exists but is really quite abstract. They look computer-generated but are hand-painted and improvised layer by layer. Over the years, Keightley has developed her personal vocabulary of imaginary rivets, cords, and counterweights that can only exist in her paintings, yet there is a familiarity to them. This exploration is born out of her fascination with unseen infrastructural systems and their place in our imagination.
Tricia Keightley, Untitled, 2017, acrylic on canvas, 40 x 34 inches (101.6 x 86.4 cm)
