What Will Happen to the New York Artist Studio?

art studio with various artworks and an artist preparing for work
What Will Happen to the New York Artist Studio? Elisabet Davidsdottir

When arctic air grips New York City, artist Karyn Lyons bundles up and rests her feet on a heater as she paints nostalgic scenes of teenage longing in her unheated studio on West 137th Street. Lyons, who is in her forties, has been working in the 450-square-foot ground-floor space for six years. It has what she needs: ample wall space, a slop sink, and privacy. The setup would be perfect were it not for the lack of a creative community nearby. But she figures that’s a small price to pay for having a studio in one of the most vibrant cities in the world. “I wouldn’t be happy working anywhere else,” says Lyons, who shows with Turn Gallery. “It is worth the cramped studios, the occasional rat, and the lack of heat.”

From West Harlem to Ridgewood, from the South Bronx to the Brooklyn Navy Yard, artists set up studios wherever they can find a good deal. There’s no longer one area with dirt cheap rents and huge spaces—like Soho in the early 1970s or Williamsburg in the late ’90s. Some flock to studio buildings in Brooklyn because they have built-in community and amenities. Others venture farther afield, into isolated industrial areas in Queens and the Bronx. Some are leaving the city altogether, settling in upstate New York or rural Connecticut. “It’s like a game of survival,” says Michael Nevin, owner of the Journal Gallery. “There is no blueprint for an artist on how to have a studio in New York. You have to find your own way.”

Art star Rashid Johnson, whose career retrospective at the Guggenheim opens in April, set up a studio in a former Luhring Augustine Gallery outpost in Bushwick, Brooklyn, which he bought for $8 million, according to property records. Acclaimed painter Amy Sherald, who has an upcoming solo show at the Whitney, works at Mana Contemporary in Jersey City. Laurie Simmons and Carroll Dunham moved their studios to Cornwall, Connecticut, while Peter and Sally Saul are in Germantown, New York.

Affordable studios have been key in making New York the epicenter of the art world, but for decades artists have discovered obscure neighborhoods only to be priced out of them when developers follow. “New York became the crucible for progressive, amazing art in the 1950s and ’60s because artists could rent very reasonably spaces no one else wanted,” says Michael Findlay, whose memoir, Portrait of the Art Dealer as a Young Man: New York in the Sixties, traces the revitalization of downtown. “It was not fashionable. It was not clean,” Findlay says. “It was cheap, and it had big spaces—which is what artists always want.”

After artists arrive, bars, restaurants, and luxury brands follow, and eventually rents rise. It happened in Soho, then Chelsea, then Williamsburg, then Dumbo. “This is a narrative as old as time,” says sculptor Tony Matelli, 54, who set up in a small garage in Williamsburg in 1995, initially renting for $1.50 a square foot. (These days ground-floor retail spaces in prime Williamsburg locations lease for as much as $300 a square foot.)

Williamsburg is “the most dramatic version of an artist enclave becoming a completely gentrified, radically changed environment,” Matelli says. “For the better in many ways, but then artists have to move.” He went to Greenpoint and later Long Island City, where he has a 5,000-square-foot studio on an industrial stretch by the Midtown Tunnel. There isn’t a restaurant or bar in sight.

Lots of younger artists look for studios farther out along the L train line. Ridgewood became a popular destination after luxury condos displaced affordable commercial spaces in Greenpoint and Bushwick. Sculptor Mitchell Charbonneau, 30, moved into a studio building in Ridgewood in 2017, soon after graduating from Pratt Institute. It’s run by friends, and it’s a 10-minute walk from his apartment. Rentals range from $600 to $2,100 a month, according to Wyatt Burns, a co-founder. There are 32 artists on the premises, some sharing studios, which have amenities like ventilation and compressed air. Artists have access to four shops: metal, wood, ceramics, and jewelry.

stacked folding chairs on a wooden floor
Senseless, a 2023 sculpture by Charbonneau. Courtesy Mitchell Charbonneau and Off Paradise New York

Charbonneau considers himself lucky. New York is “really difficult for an artist in my age bracket,” he says. “For many people it takes years of grind to define your studio practice before the sales can provide for that. A lot of people don’t follow through.”

Painter Mie Yim, 61, is convinced her Bronx studio is the most affordable in New York. She got priced out of Chelsea and Industry City in Brooklyn, so she rented a 6,000-square-foot floor of a warehouse in Mott Haven with a partner, divided it into eight studios, and leased them below market rate to other artists. The area can be desolate, and there have been occasional shootings at night. “What are you going to do? I need a studio that’s affordable,” Yim says. “We have a toilet. We have light and heat. What more do you need?

“Our floor is always full. It’s so great to have happy tenants and happy artists.” ◾

This story originally appeared in the March 2025 issue of Elle Decor. SUBSCRIBE

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