Hannah Traore

At This New York Gallery, Serious Collectors and Cool Kids Collide

By Bonnie Langedijk

Hannah Traore’s infectious enthusiasm and quick wit are two of the many reasons she broke into the cutthroat art world. The Toronto-born, New York-based gallerist’s mission to champion diversity in the contemporary art world has made her one of the leading voices in the New York art scene. Traore was introduced to the arts from a young age by her mother, a fiber artist and collector of west African art. Being raised with the belief that a career in the art world is a valid one, that’s what followed. The gallerist landed roles at MoMa—working under renowned curator Isolde Brielmaier—and a stint at photography museum Fotografiska. At 27, Traore opened her eponymous gallery, never having worked at a commercial one herself. 

But Hannah Traore Gallery isn’t just another gallery. Nestled in Manhattan’s Lower East Side, the gallery’s programming sits at the intersection of art, education and culture, creating experiences that invite dialogue between disciplines. Next to exhibitions with leading artists, including Camila Falquez, Misha Japanwala and Anya Paintsil, the gallery regularly collaborates with brands and people with a shared vision, from a 5-course dining experience by Chef Roze Traore–not related to the Traore we’re talking about—to hosting events with fashion brand Helmut Lang. Existing outside of the traditional constructs of the art world has made Hannah Traore Gallery a space that’s accessible to all. With it, Traore is building a growing community of art enthusiasts—both old and new. 

She might be one of the city's youngest gallerists, but don’t let her age fool you. Traore is on a quest to change the art world. So far, she’s succeeding.

Bonnie: Do you remember the first artist that left an impression on you? 

Hannah: It's funny because I don't relate to his work very much anymore, but [Edgar] Degas for sure. My mom introduced me and my siblings to the arts. She also studied art history. Introducing me to Degas was really smart of her because I was a little dancer myself. Anytime we would go to a museum, I would always be looking for Degas' little dancers. Ironically, years later in college, we learned that he was a creep. The other artist, but I didn't know him by name at the time, was Alexander Calder. My mom put fake Calder mobiles in all of our rooms. I've always been, and still am, drawn to his work. 

How do you think some of those early experiences of art have shaped your vision as a curator and gallerist today? 

Hannah: The smartest thing that my mom did was to make art such a big part of our lives that it didn’t necessarily feel like art. It was just part of our life. We took art classes from the time we could talk, we did arts and crafts on the weekends, we went to museums and we read art books. I've been raised with the idea that art—and a career in the arts—was valid. In New York, people are a little more understanding of the arts but I have felt judged—specifically by my friend's parents back home in Toronto—for the fact that I chose a career in the arts. I said to my mom before opening the gallery, I bet if I get any press in magazines that they know, all of a sudden I'm going to be respected. Now, I do feel like they respect it. It's sad, because the respect for the arts should be there with or without the accolades.  

“People always talk about the art world, but there are MULTIPLE art worlds. Not only city to city, but even within a city many different ecosystems make up the larger art world.”

It’s funny how people work, isn’t it? 

Hannah: Being raised to already know that creativity is just as valid as academia was magical. My parents raised me with a lot of confidence. My style when I was younger was wild. I would go outside in the most ridiculous outfits with no judgment from my parentl. That was important in building my style, as well as building my confidence in my own choices and understanding that it's okay to be different and eccentric. I remember the first day of grade six, I wore a shower cap to school for a week because I wanted to start a trend. I remember I did it with my best friend and her mom said, you guys can't do that. And I was like, what? Why? All of those things early on made me comfortable with breaking the rules, even though I don't feel like I'm necessarily breaking the rules. I'm doing what I want to do, which is exactly what my parents raised me to do. 

You learned you don’t have to conform. You touched upon New York and the city being a bit more open to art as a serious profession. What are your thoughts on the art ecosystem of New York, and what are the key things that shape it? 

Hannah: People always talk about the art world, but there are multiple art worlds. Not only city to city, but even within a city many different ecosystems make up the larger art world. I'm torn in this answer because in some respects I feel like there are so many people from the quote-unquote old guard who have shown me support and love for what I’m doing. On the other side of it, I've been struggling with quote-unquote haters in the art world who take issue with the fact that I'm working in an unconventional way. In terms of what shapes the art world, I think the people do. The so-called "taste-makers" which include all types of people in the ecosystem—curators, gallerists, artists, writers, and even collectors. We have some incredibly creative and powerful minds in New York so I feel lucky to be a part of that. 

I think people always struggle with things they don't understand or can't fit into the traditional frameworks. 

Hannah: I think that the people who have taken the time to look into what I'm doing, appreciate it. I actually don't find that it's coming from other gallerists. 

Is it more the world around it? 

Hannah: Yes. I saw that something could be added to the art world, which is why I wanted to add to it. I don’t hate the old guard. There are issues, and I can talk about them, but I'm not someone who says ‘fuck you’ to the art world. I never actually set out to be different. I truly just set out to do what I wanted to do, which happens to be different. I want people to see the gallery as a serious gallery. We have fun events and it's community-minded, but if you look at the work, if you read the press releases, if you look into the artists, we're doing serious work. I don't want all the other stuff to get in the way of people seeing that. I'm not going to bend what I do because other people have this reductive attitude. We're putting on shows with serious artists, group shows with real theses, and the work is being collected by important collectors and museums. People may not realize that. 

It’s interesting how you’re still only allowed to be this very singular thing, especially as a woman. 

Hannah: It's The Madonna-Whore complex. I'm a 29-year-old woman. I like to dress the way I like to dress. I enjoy spending time with my friends and going dancing, but I also work extremely hard. Why can’t I post about the essay I wrote about the show I curated and also post a photo with a bit of skin showing? Why do those have to be mutually exclusive? 

Completely. 

Hannah: I never set out to have a public platform. When I opened the gallery, I didn't necessarily realize that this would happen, which of course was naive of me. I'm not saying I don't love it, I do, but I didn't realize that it meant that I couldn't post pictures that I've always posted when only my friends were watching. I would love to say that I don't care what people think about me, but I do. 

You're human. That's part of our condition. I think artists are dealing with a similar duality. Through social media, some of those existing power structures are falling apart. We're in a world now where artists can be in direct dialogue with buyers, with people who are interested in their art. But it also creates this question of whether you’re a “serious” artist or not. 

Hannah: You’re doomed if you do and you’re doomed if you don't. My artist Chella Man comes to mind. He’s an artist and activist. If he didn't have a following, people would deem him irrelevant, but because he does have a  following, all of a sudden the work that he makes isn't quite as “serious” or “real”. To me, the reach he has makes his real, powerful, and important work more accessible and thus even more real, powerful, and important.

Earlier you touched on community and it's clear to me from the outside looking in that community is an important aspect of your work. Today, how do you think you can build community both digitally and in real life?

Hannah: Often I stand in the middle of the gallery at an event or an opening, and I could almost cry thinking about it now. I'm so proud of the community that the gallery has cultivated. Many people have told me this was the first gallery they have felt comfortable in, which makes me so happy. There are things I did very intentionally to make people who look like me or come from outside the art world feel comfortable in the space. But really, community builds community. Every opening I see the same crowd, but that crowd grows. Whoever I'm showing brings their community and some of those people connect with the gallery's community, and it builds from there. Our common love of art connects us. Creating a space that facilitates connection is the only thing I can take credit for because the community built itself. 

To build that platform, it does need to have a very clear vision of what it is that brings us all together. That's not an easy thing to do. In my opinion, the art world has been the only creative industry that has felt quite insular. Fashion or design seem to be more open-minded to be in dialogue with other creative disciplines. How important is it to you to create dialogues across disciplines? And how do you think you can successfully and authentically connect art to the rest of culture? 

Hannah: One of the main pillars of the gallery is creating a dialogue between industries because art doesn't exist on its own. We don't like to admit it, but art feeds off of all these industries. It's a disservice to those industries and our industry to keep ourselves boxed in. I said to myself when I opened the gallery, I want to make sure that everything that I love—food, fashion, and children—is infused into the gallery's programming. I hosted an exhibition with three schools in the neighborhood. The youngest student was three. I also hosted one of Helmut Lang's fashion week presentations. My friend Roze Traore hosted a 5-course meal in the gallery this spring. We’re working on more fashion, food, and educational collaborations. Once my team grows, I hope to actualize more of them.  

When you have a clear creative practice you can apply it to different mediums. Especially when you're new to them. There’s real power in not knowing the rules. 

Hannah: That's what I’ve said from the beginning. It's a good thing and a bad thing. There are certain systems that I should have had in place for the past two and a half years, and I just haven't because I didn't know they existed. But at the same time, it is amazing because I'm doing what intuitively comes to me.  

What you would say are some of the key things that drive you? 

Hannah: I feel very fulfilled by what I do. It's also the fact that it’s not just about Hannah Traore Gallery. There's a bigger picture and that drives me. People of color have that burden in many industries, including the art world. It sounds cheesy, but part of the fulfillment is feeling like I’m making a difference. I don't need it to reflect back to me, but when my artists or someone from the community tells me that they’re inspired or that the gallery has made them feel more comfortable in art spaces or it has made them feel seen, that drives me too. Lastly, I just really enjoy  it... it's fun!

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

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