Get the Picture, by Bianca Bosker

Bianca Bosker looked at art in her New York neighborhood and wondered what others saw.

Trying to figure out what paintings and sculptures made it into galleries and museums, she spent nearly two years working in the New York art world, trying to learn what and who makes art important right now. Because she was a journalist, getting even a menial job in this world was difficult; she was blocked by gallery owners who saw her as a potential enemy capable of distorting their work to the world. It’s an insular, paranoid world where reputations are fragile yet essential.

In Get the Picture, Bosker shares what she learned as a gallery art assistant, an artist’s apprentice and as a guard at the Guggenheim Museum. The subtitle demonstrates the book’s breadth: A Mind-Bending Journey Among the Inspired Artists and Obsessive Art Fiends Who Taught Me How to See.

Bosker developed close relationships with some of the top players in the art game, doing menial work, such as stretching canvasses and painting walls, to prove her commitment in an exhausting journey of multiple 12-hour days ending in late-night art openings and parties. Through this immersion, she learned that contemporary art often is judged by context rather than content, its meaning coming from its story. Not only who made it, but why and where, and who owns it. Art for grandma’s condo has less value than that purchased by influential collectors—even if it looks the same to us.

In fact, galleries representing “important” art are often hidden away from the annoying public. They don’t want us to bother them. The wrong buyer can spoil the story and reduce the work’s value. And it can be ruinous for an artist when her work sells at auction for many times its original selling price. While that might seem a good thing, none of that money goes to the artist, and the result of the inflation can be a deflation of the artist’s reputation. It looks like collectors see no future in holding onto the art and are dumping it for whatever they can get—which can be 100s of times the original price. Plus, being too popular cheapens the importance of the piece.

It’s a confusing world in which work that is “too pretty” is denied admittance because it is seen as simplistic and lacking in meaning, although meaning shifts so much it’s hard to keep up. The idea of an intuitive relationship with art is often seen as naïve. The art needs to earn its standing not just by being a cut above, but also by being less accessible than other works.

At the Guggenheim Museum, Bosker spent hours doing nothing but staring at art. And she learned her way of finding meaning—through immersion, waiting for the details, the meaning, the beauty to inevitably emerge. The way most of us go to art exhibits, she learned, is wrong. We dutifully look at each painting, read its description, then go on to the next. Pros, by comparison, enter the room, find the piece that captures their eye immediately, go to it, and do a deep dive. Not just for a few minutes, but for 10, 20 or more. Forget the description and let the art speak for itself. Some art instructors, in fact, require students to look at the same piece over and over throughout a semester, sometimes every class session, spending hours on one work. Each time they look, they see something different.

But there’s another reason to avoid reading the descriptions of art in galleries and museums—they are written in “International Art English,” a batch of fancy words that most of us don’t understand—and aren’t supposed to. As an example, Bosker quotes a news release for a show that will “summon forces of indexicality and iconicity from the aspirations, alibis and abuses of sovereignty.” You betcha.

So, what is art? For enjoyment, it’s up to us—what engages us and gives us joy. For profit, it’s up to the collectors and investors—what ends up in museums and art warehouses and sells for six figures or more.

Bosker introduced us to several artists that might be fun to follow, especially Erin O’Keefe and Julie Curtiss. And even though Jack Barrett took up far too much space in the book and came off as a person we need not ever meet, she nevertheless recommends his gallery in Tribeca, a block from the DIMIN gallery, whose owner, Rob Dimin and former partner Elizabeth Denny are committed to helping new artists. As for Amanda Allfire and her face-sitting art—the less said the better.

— Pat Prijatel

I Swear: Politics is Messier Than My Minivan, by Katie Porter

I Swear: Politics is Messier Than My Minivan is a memoir by Katie Porter, who was serving in her second term as the U.S. Representative for California’s 45th Congressional District in 2023 when it was published. While the book certainly highlights her accomplishments, it is also a window into the life of a woman trying to succeed at a highly demanding job in service to others while raising three children as a single parent.

Porter grew up in a very rural part of southern Iowa, and that background clearly informs her no-nonsense approach to both politics and family. Her childhood was spent on a small farm, sharing a tiny home with her parents and two feisty siblings. She looks back fondly on the simplicity of that life, but she also witnessed the anxiety and hardship of the 1980s farm crisis firsthand, including the day the town bank closed and the threat it posed to her family’s ability to continue their livelihood.

She must have stood out as a gifted student at her school, because she was invited by Iowa State University researchers to attend an elite academic summer program. That experience seems to have dramatically affected the trajectory of her life. Eventually she attended Phillips Academy, earned her undergraduate degree from Yale (writing her thesis on the effects of corporate farming on rural communities), and completed her law degree at Harvard, where she became a mentee of Elizabeth Warren.

After several years as a law professor, Porter notably testified before Congress in 2008 alongside Warren in support of the Credit Cardholders’ Bill of Rights, which was later signed into law. In 2012, Kamala Harris (then California Attorney General) appointed her as the state’s independent monitor for the $25 billion national mortgage settlement with major banks, such as Wells Fargo. She became internet-famous for making her points on a whiteboard – part of her crusade to stop predatory (and sloppy) practices that harm vulnerable homeowners. Her interest in running for congress was about gaining more power to continue this same work.

Although the book includes her professional achievements, it focuses a bit more on the reality of what it’s like to serve in Congress. She does not shy away from sharing personal foibles and things she learned the hard way. She writes openly about escaping an abusive marriage (at the urging of her campaign staff but at the consternation of her children), managing an intense travel schedule, and navigating the financial strain of public service without a spouse’s additional income or time. The book makes clear how challenging, if not impossible, it can be for an “ordinary” person with a family to serve in Congress, especially compared to candidates who can self-fund campaigns or rely on investment income.

Our group found ourselves wondering whether the criticisms she receives for being strident would land the same way if she were a man. Similarly, questions about whether she should have run for office while raising three young children alone seemed hard to separate from gender expectations.

Porter’s memoir is structured as a series of essays and short, nonlinear vignettes. Some in our group disliked the choppier format, but we felt that her voice throughout is real, direct, and accessible. Overall, Porter’s grit, humor, and unapologetic honesty make for an interesting read.

— Julie Feirer

The Anxious Generation, by Jonathan Haidt

If your child were given an invitation to join a colony living on Mars, would you let her go? What if she begged and pleaded? What if she reassured you that all her friends’ parents were allowing their children to go? What if several well-respected scientists chimed in, saying that it was probably safe, but they weren’t really sure because they hadn’t done any long-term studies about how life on Mars might affect her future growth and development? Would you let her go? Of course not, explains author Jonathan Haidt, in his compelling introduction to The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness.

Haidt goes on to explain that children, of course, were never being sent to colonize Mars, but that we took a comparable gamble with our children’s mental health and social development when we handed them smartphones in the early 2010s. And our children are the ones who have lost.     

Haidt, a social psychologist and professor at NYU, has amassed a staggering amount of research into an absorbing and highly readable book. He argues that the generation born since 1995 are experiencing a mental health crisis, citing alarming statistics about increased loneliness, isolation, anxiety, depression, and rates of suicide and self-harm.

Although his statistics are terrifying, Haidt’s examination of the cause of this mental health crisis is fascinating. He effectively argues that the linchpin of this mental health epidemic came in the early 2000s, when we became overzealous in the protection of our children in the real world, while simultaneously underprotecting them on the Internet and on social media.  Haidt takes on the role of historian and sociologist as he describes how the ‘play-based childhood’ of the 1980s and prior decades faded away and gave rise to what he calls the ‘phone-based childhood.’ He becomes an anthropologist and psychologist as he explains basic human biological needs for risky play, independence, and rites of passage in order to become fully-realized adults. Haidt closes the book by offering hope and practical suggestions for the rehabilitation of our skewed relationship with technology, but the overall effect of the book is sobering.

The Anxious Generation has spent over a year parked on the NYT bestseller list, and Fareed Zakaria called it the “defining book on the generation that grew up with technology in the palms of their hands.” This book is engrossing, timely, important, and highly recommended for anyone who wants to help the children in their lives develop into mentally healthy, emotionally well-adjusted adults.  

— Marcy Luft