"JAM was a complete world. Between the business model of the gallery and the clubhouse model, JAM was definitely the clubhouse where people gathered. It was sometimes hard to know who was a JAM artist and who was not. David definitely, and Senga and Maren, and Houston and Randy. But what about Tyrone? He was nominally with Cinqué, but was he ever not at JAM? Did George ever have an exhibition there? Did it matter? Everyone knew how good his work was. Then there were young artists finding their voices, like Sandra and Cynthia. But artists were just one part of the whole. There were art historians in potentia, like Judith Wilson and a young Kellie Jones. Photographers documenting others’ work and doing their own, like Coreen, like Dawoud. There were intellectuals like Danny and pure spirits like Charles. And there were curators. Lowery was always there. Kynaston never was, but his presence hung like a shadow on the wall. That was one way to be, she thought. That could have been her goal. It was easy when whiteness was part of what you were. But instead she had come HERE."

 

Lorraine O'Grady, Rivers and Just Above Midtown, 2013, 2015,

 

[about how the art world changed]

"At that time, art was not necessarily work made for a general public, but more like a gang of friends. It was much more limited framework, in any case a much smaller group of people; even just in terms of numbers, even before one speaks in terms of money or power or anything like that. The artist – and all the people in the artworld – had an entirely different relationship with the world around them."

 

Seth Siegelaub, in Hans Ulrich Obrist, A brief History of Curating, JRP Ringier & Les presses du réel, 2013