GREATEST: Kimberly Drew

Day one, like 1996. We were there, at Madison Square Garden, me and my dad. That was his thing. My family is actually really sporty. I always end up talking about my family as, like, an artsy family, but sports were equally important. I had no athletic ability, but my dad always tried to get me into it because I’m built like an athlete. People are like, ‘You look like you run fast.’ I’ve no hand-eye coordination, like, please leave me alone. So it was just such a big part of growing up, especially articulating who I wanted to be. And you know, you go to a Liberty game and see every kind of woman. I really liked being exposed to that at such a young age. 

That’s such a good question. I was at this visioning thing for this residency program [recently] and one of the exercises that we did was: How would you build a residency for Alvin Ailey before he does Revelations? What does it mean to support someone on the precipice of their greatness? 

Before the Studio Museum internship, I was really depressed, to be quite honest. I was in a space of self-harming and just not in a good spot mentally, and I’d come off of being in this super-conservative prep school where I was really institutionally taught to hate everything about myself as a black woman, as a black queer person. When I got to Smith, it was really beautiful to enter into a new environment. But even there as a black woman on that campus in 2008, people were mad homophobic. So I was just, like, here in a space that is supposed to be so queer and so welcoming and I’m still up against the same shit. The year I started the blog, I made queer friends for the first time—black, queer friends. But everything before that was really dark. 

Yeah, for sure. 

It’s so interesting. I only made it because I went looking for it and didn’t find it. You know, it wasn’t like, ‘Oh, I have this brilliant idea.’ I literally was like, ‘I want someone to feed me this information.’ It was just this number of people who followed and I’d love the milestones of it, but it didn’t feel tangible. 

When I got to New York and interviewed for Creative Time, which is where I had my first job out of school, my interviewer who became my mentor said, ‘No, people look at this. We all are looking at this.’ And I was just like, ‘My little pet project?’ So that is what I would say is the first thing. 

Then I met this kid at Wesleyan who was printing it out and taking it into prisons, and I was like, ‘This is so much more important than I could have ever realized,’ because I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. It wasn’t the most rewarding experience at the beginning, of course. But there are those key moments where it’s brought so many beautiful people into my world. It’s so nice at this stage to see artists in the Studio Museum residents show that just opened. To see [Tschabalala Self] ascend as an artist and know that we’ve been in this since 2013-ish—to see these artists in my community all evolving and growing… It’s nice to have done that through a digital project. 

The thing about the Met, at that point in my life, I was 25 years old. I didn’t come into it like, ‘I’m black.’ I came into it like, ‘I’m an expert.’ Because that’s what I learned from that oscillation process where I was just like, ‘I’m not going to be your token and I, for myself and my mental health, need to assert my excellence first.’ And then all of the other work came after, but for me it was really important to make sure that people respected me, especially as a young person, because in that institution, you have people who have worked on exhibitions for 25 years. Like, the Michelangelo exhibition was thought about for over a decade, and I’ve never worked on anything that long. And so I came in just trying to make sure that people knew that I meant business— and it worked. 

It’s been amazing, because I knew I wanted to do it. When I left my job, I was really ready to talk about it, but I only wanted to say it once. And I was like, ‘I’m going to pick my battle on that one,’ and being able to talk directly to people in the field felt like the best place to do it. 

Since then, it’s been really nice to just have dialogue with people. I’ve gotten some criticism, but there is a woman named Michelle Fisher who’s a curator. She started a spreadsheet where almost 800 people have posted their salaries. And it’s so tight because there is no salary transparency in the arts, period. It’s an industry where people say, ‘Oh, you’re going into the arts, you’ll never make any money.’ And so then you end up in these salary negotiations where you settle for less because you already know you’re in an industry where you’re not supposed to make money. But the fact of the matter is people are making good money. So I was just tired of having, like, these backdoor conversations with women, especially women of color in my network, where I’m the only person they can come talk to about money stuff, and it shouldn’t be that way. You don’t have to be, like, on the Underground Railroad of getting equity. Like, come on now. 

February 2020. 

Yes. Jenna actually DMed me first and was like, ‘I love what you’re doing. I’d love to get lunch,’ and I was like, ‘Oh, shit.’ 

We then met up in Chelsea at Empire Diner and had lunch, and she pitched this idea for a zine, and I was like, ‘I don’t want to make a zine. I’m not making a zine because only 10 people read a zine.’ I’m here to do a passion project, but if I’m gonna do something, especially as the first thing, I want it to be as accessible as possible. That’s what I’m most passionate about at this stage in my life. And so being the sadomasochist that I am, I was like, ‘Let’s sell a book,’ and we got an agent and we sold the book to One World. We’ve been working with Chris Jackson for the past three years. It’s the blackest book possible, because it’s all-black contributors, black editor, black associate editor. And so that was a gift, too. 

I always get a burger at every hotel room that I’m in. I get a burger and a Coca-Cola and I get in a robe, every single time, unless I have to run to a meeting or something. That’s what I’m doing as soon as I land. And it’s, like, the best grounding practice. I also travel with all kinds of oils and stuff. And I wear compression socks. That’s my key to success on the road. 

I don’t like answering these questions, but I would say the most important organization, or one of them that I really love, is the YoungArts Foundation based out of Miami. Youth programming around the arts is something that we all need to be paying more attention to. Oh, and then also, Groundswell is another organization that’s really tight for young people. 

I would say Kia Damon, the chef, and DeVonn Francis with Yardy. I just went to a dinner they did last night and it was so crazy because at events, you never expect the food to be good. But it was so delicious that I kind of had to pause. You know how black people, like, when we eat [something good], we dance? I just had to let a little wiggle out. I’m deeply inspired by their work. I’m also deeply inspired by Angela [Dimayuga, executive chef of Mission Chinese]. 

I would say you should go to a benefit because your money will go to a good place. If you go to Groundswell, I buy this work by this artist named Bisa Butler, who’s actually from my hometown. But buying that work means that this organization benefits from these funds, and then also I get this amazing work of art. That’s probably the easiest place, too, because you’re not doing the liaising with the gallery. If you want to directly support an artist, there’s a lot of artists that have online shops. So it’s not just about going through the very traditional channels. I’ll go buy art on Big Cartel. No problem, Shopify me. I’m there. 

It’s so tight. I’ve been so frustrated this month, especially because June is Pride Month and there are so many campaigns coming out right now. But the other day I was like, ‘Yo, I gotta know somebody in every Pride campaign.’ Shit’s fucking dope. I was at the Pyer Moss show at Weeksville and Doreen [St. Felix, of The New Yorker] was there and I think it might have been, like, her first or second fashion show, but just knowing a writer of her caliber and her intelligence, getting to see her experiencing culture and also that she’s one of my good friends is just, like, on so many levels. Or knowing Morgan Parker—she is one of the most important art writers of our generation, period. It’s so tight. But it’s such a blessing to know these folks. We have so many black people now that we don’t have to like everybody. That’s what I love about our generation. 

There’s so much diversity within the levels of power and the way that people choose to exert them, too, which is so tight, because some people are very behind the scenes doing crazy, amazing shit, but just not invested in being in the limelight. Which is cool.