Gentrification and Labor Practices in the Art World

How Inequity Shapes Opportunities for Artists

Over the past summer, I interned at a Hudson, NY gallery. I heard about the opening via a curated mailing list for creatives. It was advertised as paid, $15 an hour, which is the minimum wage in Upstate New York, which struck me as low for a posh job in a wealthy town like Hudson, but I was in no position to negotiate. After all, I was thrilled to have been offered the opportunity to work in a prestigious gallery with New York City history. 

Blurred art gallery in Hudson, NY (Adobe Stock / Thampapon1).

The pre-screening phone call and the interview went well, but my soon-to-be-boss specifically mentioned that she wouldn’t be able to pay me the full minimum wage for my first few weeks of work while I was “in training,” which struck me as particularly odd. The job itself included managing the gallery’s social media pages, keeping the website up to date, greeting customers, managing inventory with custom software, and hanging artwork. By the end of the summer, however, I had worked as a bartender at an opening reception, done the event photography for another, and even drove 300 miles to deliver an oil painting, all for minimum wage. I’m fortunate to have been able to cover my rent and groceries via other means, but many other candidates for similar internships would have struggled to stay afloat without secondary employment or external support.

This is not a unique story, nor one only seen in the art world. In her book Do What You Love And Other Lies about Success and Happiness, Miya Tokumitsu summarizes the shift in the characteristics of the modern workplace since the turn of the century: “Unpaid internships have infiltrated the professional landscape, depressing wages and providing additional barriers to careers in fields like the media, the arts, and government policy (though by no means limited to them).” Employers in desirable industries take advantage of this fact through low-paid or unpaid internships which, on the surface, are advertised as educational experiences. Many interns, however, will find themselves doing the same work as salaried employees and running errands for their bosses. 

Economics aside, unpaid internships are degrading and often dehumanizing, This structural humiliation is built into many of the art world’s internships, and it is a common trope to hear creatives farther along in their careers justifying the degradation and abuse as a necessary period of submission and sacrifice to advance one’s chances of becoming a successful artist. Those who speak up will find themselves quickly replaced with eager alternatives. This creates friction especially in spaces where the industrious intern is expected to go above and beyond without fair compensation as a way of paying fealty to their employer.  Why do young artists have to submit themselves to humiliation in the workplace to advance their budding careers?

This phenomenon is slowly changing as younger generations are becoming more disillusioned with the present economic reality and are beginning to demand better treatment at work. A maxim nearly as old as time itself is that “no one wants to work anymore.” This is especially parroted by older generations privileged to have come of age before the neoliberal disintegration of the social services safety net in the United States, when it was still possible to buy a house with a single income.

It’s not that no one wants to work anymore, it’s that no one wants to work for pennies on the dollar. Younger generations are becoming more class-conscious as the wealth gap continues to widen and they are left behind; while workers across the country were fighting for safer working conditions and a $15 minimum wage during the COVID-19 pandemic, America’s billionaires amassed over $1 trillion, illustrating the utterly unimaginable inequality endemic to late-stage capitalism. While the wealth gap is not as stark in petty bourgeois (small business) settings, inequality is still deeply felt as wages remain stagnant even as the cost of living steadily continues rising.

Figure 1. Workers' share of corporate-sector income across business cycles, 1979–2024.

Figure 2. Corporate profits after tax (without IVA and CCAdj).

Let’s break down my previous example. I delivered a $7,000 painting in a rented van, which cost the gallerist $250 for the day, plus $50 to fill the tank. I was paid $200 to drive 300 miles—close to the federal mileage rate, $0.67 as of 2024. Assuming the gallery fee is industry standard, around 50 percent, the artist took home $3,500 and the gallerist took home $3,000, accounting for the $500 for my labor and the van rental. This is for one painting. My boss took home what I made in four months from the sale of one painting. This is the absurd inequality prevalent at all levels of the labor market in the United States. 

In 2020, the arts and culture industry accounted for 4.2 percent, or $876 billion, of the national GDP, a 6.4 percent reduction from the year prior, nearly double the 3.4 percent decline in the economy more broadly, according to a report published by the National Endowment for the Arts. Because many artists are self-employed, data on the state of labor is less accurate, however the film and video industries shrunk by 136,000 salaried jobs, performing arts organizations by 50,000, and performing arts presenters by 56,000 jobs. 

Those from underprivileged backgrounds are most vulnerable to economic volatility, which manifests on the community level through patterns of gentrification. Though gentrification has been happening for decades, it recently reached a fever pitch in the region with the surge in popularity of AirBnB followed by the COVID-19 lockdown, which saw wealthy metropolitan residents migrate upstate for fresh air, idyllic countryside views, and wide-open spaces at the expense of renters and the working class. To them, spending $500,000 on a home is a steal compared to the cost of housing in New York City. Why spend $5,000 a month on your Manhattan loft when you could live in a renovated upstate farmhouse and log into your Microsoft Teams meetings from the coworking space on the main drag? Since the initial pandemic lockdown, your boss doesn’t expect you to come into the office anyhow. 

Urban sociologist Richard E. Ocejo explores this migration pattern in his book Sixty Miles Upriver: Gentrification and Race in a Small American City, which studies Newburgh, New York as an example of post-industrial revitalization (i.e. gentrification). The study of Newburgh maps well onto the rest of the Hudson Valley, which is an exemplary case study of patterns of real estate value and human migration as a microcosm of a global issue as privileged young people move into renovated homes with artificially inflated rent, designed to price the original occupants out of the neighborhood, who in turn do not benefit from urban revitalization. Many middle-class transplants, however, do not see themselves as gentrifiers. After all, the housing stock upstate does not compare to Brooklyn brownstones or SoHo lofts in terms of price tag. Lower-income individuals cannot compete with the gentrifying class as it moves in and swallows up the newly-created kombucha-brewing reclaimed-materials-sculpting jobs. 

The march of capitalist accumulation and the pattern of systemic displacement, of course, have not gone unresisted. Communities organize to fight gentrification, tenants form unions, and workers build solidarity. The Economic Policy Institute published a report that stated that strike activity in 2023 was up 280 percent from the previous year as workers mobilized to defend their rights to collective bargaining and striking. Perhaps the most notable strike of the year saw more than 60,000 SAG-AFTRA (Screen Actors Guild - American Federation of Television and Radio Artists) members picketing for better working conditions, higher wages, and residuals from streaming companies. The union was able to reach a tentative agreement on November 9th. 

The art industry is infamously difficult to break into, especially for those from underprivileged socioeconomic backgrounds. Workshops and MFA programs are prohibitively expensive, which means that the students by and large come from comfortable, privileged backgrounds. They often have established networks of industry connections through friends and family along with disposable income and/or savings to cover the cost of living and to spend on materials, advertising, and submission fees. This reinforces the “laptop class,” consisting of young, hip workers with hybrid, high-paying comfortable jobs offering cushy benefits. This class is mostly composed of individuals from affluent backgrounds with a disposable income; this makes them the perfect customers for hallmarks of gentrification like vintage shops, boutiques, artisanal handcrafted furniture, and trendy artwork. There are, of course, financial aid packages for higher education programs and grants available for emerging artists, but it’s much easier to make art when you don’t have to worry about how you’re going to make rent.

To reiterate, I come from a position of privilege and my ability to take advantage of the gallery internship opportunity was entirely contingent upon my class. I go to a small liberal arts college, which absolutely contributed to my attractiveness as a candidate for the gallery job as its name recognition stands out on creative resumes. Though the galleries and boutiques are pushing out family restaurants and bodegas often come with a progressive, hip veneer, many of them employ classist and even racist hiring practices. They often privilege already-wealthy, college-educated candidates, such as myself, over those from less comfortable socioeconomic backgrounds competing for the same opportunities.

What, then, can be done? Labor organizing for better working conditions, benefits, and higher pay is a historically effective tactic for winning dignity at work. Those from privileged backgrounds should work alongside their less fortunate counterparts for the benefit of all as inequality continues to worsen by showing up to city council meetings, participating in local organizations, and educating themselves about the history and political dynamics of their new homes. Community organizations such as tenant unions are effective vehicles for resisting the negative effects of gentrification. Local organizations are currently working on getting Good Cause Eviction, legislation that would protect tenants against unfair rent hikes, passed in several cities across the Hudson Valley as a result of efforts to mobilize renters. It’s a lot easier to think about your next creative project when you don’t have to worry about how you’re going to pay the month’s rent, stay up to date on student loans, put food on the table, pay the electricity bill, afford your supplies, and somehow find free time, energy, and inspiration to be able to create.