Today we’d like to introduce you to Jenie Gao.
Hi Jenie, it’s an honor to have you on the platform. Thanks for taking the time to share your story with us – to start maybe you can share some of your backstory with our readers?
I started my art business eight years ago after quitting my corporate job as a project manager in the manufacturing industry. Before that, I worked in the Milwaukee Public School District as an arts program specialist for a school with majority of BIPOC students that hadn’t hard art, gym, or music in seven years. I had also worked in various areas of the arts both back and front of house, such as in museum security and gallery sales.
Across the arts, education, and public sectors I repeatedly saw patterns that fell along lines of race, class, and gender. Who has access to creative learning and opportunities? Who ends up working in white-collar office jobs versus plant roles doing more difficult physical labor? Who works in front of house versus back of house in the arts? Who gets to make the decisions? Who has access to cultural authorship and leadership?
I started my anti-gentrification arts business to defy social and systemic conventions. I wanted to prove that it’s possible to build a successful arts business that is generative and doesn’t perpetuate the exploitations of the industry. In the last several years, I have hosted a paid arts apprenticeship program, run a 1,700 square foot commercial studio, and expanded my business to include consulting for cultural organizations and the public sector on equitable best practices. I’m thrilled to be in a position not only to lead by example but teach others as well.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
I have simple principles that are difficult to uphold. The arts industry is built to rely on unpaid and underpaid labor. I advocate for fair pay and equitable terms for myself and others I work with. This has meant saying no to a lot of gigs, but when I look back, I feel a lot better about how I’ve grown my business. This has also put me at odds with some representatives of fine arts institutions, who tend to look down on artists who monetize their work as being too “commercial.” But I think that’s an unfair way to gaslight artists into working for less than they are worth. Admonishing artists for seeking compensation doesn’t result in artists who operate outside of market pressures—it means that only certain artists can take the kind of avant-garde risks that cultural gatekeepers are interested in.
Another struggle is this moment we are in with Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion. There is good work happening in the D.E.I. space. The problem in the arts is that people tend to over-focus on changing symbolic representation—such as diversifying the artists represented—without changing any of an institution’s policies or systems. What ends up happening is we put artists who are often marginalized by race, gender, class, ability, etc. into institutions that are designed to extract from and exploit them. It creates a situation that is ripe for co-optation and appropriation, which exacerbates the distrust that people already have in academia, nonprofits, businesses, and other institutional spaces. So we need to pursue the symbolic and systemic change at the same time to reduce harm and create more fairness and equity.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
I’m an artist who specializes in public art, social practice, printmaking, and storytelling. I also consult for cultural organizations and the public sector in equitable best practices and ethics.
I’m proud of my work to align the symbolic and systemic parts of my practice. Most people see the final, visual result of my work—such as a monumental mural or public installation. What’s often invisible is the work behind the work: hours of community interviews and research, negotiations with municipalities and stakeholders, and writing agreements that center and protect the rights of people.
People are familiar with terms like “greenwashing” and “pinkwashing,” when a company dons the image of doing something good, but only at the superficial brand level. Part of my work is making people more aware of artwashing when a city starts hosting mural festivals and pop-up art markets, and nearly always in the neighborhoods that are ripe for “revitalization” aka gentrification. I want people to love art and its presence in their cities—but let’s do this work ethically, in a way that invests in the artists and community members that make our cities vibrant.
I’m also proud of my work exploring questions of ethics and systems through the lens of my Asian-Americanness. I’m a second-generation Taiwanese-Chinese American and a woman of color from a working-class family. It’s mainstream knowledge at this point that the white gaze, especially the male gaze, dominates industries like filmmaking. Yet somehow that knowledge doesn’t translate to how we as a society address Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion. We see art galleries exhibiting BIPOC artists primarily when their art is about race but not their thoughts on other issues. We see companies hire BIPOC as diversity consultants and diversity officers, but why not as financial officers, sales representatives, scientists, and more? The work of understanding identity is important. But it will inevitably be limited by whether we allow different identities and perspectives to inform all parts of the society that we live in. So I make art, write, and research from a perspective that is very Asian American and femme. I think people listen because it’s a perspective they had yet to consider, so it shakes up their world.
If you had to, what characteristic of yours would you give the most credit to?
My mother gave me three names, my American English name and also two Chinese names. One of my Chinese names is Yun Hsin, which means Beautiful Voice. My mother said that she gave me this name because she didn’t want me to be a frivolous person. Rather, she wanted me to be someone who spoke meaningfully and with great effect, so people would listen to what I have to say.
I do my best to live up to that and speak what’s necessary. Sometimes that means speaking to difficult but important truths. But I hope that how I address things as an artist, writer, community organizer, and business owner creates space for meaningful change. I think other people recognize that. Not everyone is ready for someone like me. But the ones who are ready are the people who are invested in one another’s empowerment and ready to build a better, more equitable world together. This is the most fortunate part of my work—that I get to work with some of the most genuine people and the most tireless fighters for good.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://jenie.org
- Instagram: https://instagram.com/jeniegao
- Facebook: https://facebook.com/jeniesart
- Twitter: https://twitter.com/jeniegao
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@jeniegao
- Other: https://jenie.studio
Image Credits
Latasia Dhami, Adam White Ossers, Truzon Thao, Stefan Gibson
