six Artists on the Closing of Legendary Fine art-Supply Store Pearl Paint

a sign hangs outside Pearl Paint, a famed art supply and paint store, on Canal Street on April 10, 2014 in New York City. The Building Pearl Paint occupies has reportedly been put up for sale, prompting rumors that the New York City arts supply institution may close.

R.I.P. Photo: Andrew Burton/Getty Images

For months, rumors have swirled that Pearl Pigment, the legendary fine art-supply store on Canal Street, would be closing its doors. Yesterday, the cherry landmark was gated and locked, evidently marking the terminate of its eight-decade run equally the supplier of choice to multiple generations of established and emerging downtown art stars. In the days before administration did all the shopping, Pearl was more than than a shop — it was a scene in its own right, where artists would mingle and get hints most what their peers were working on based on the supplies they were buying. To mark the stop of this affiliate in New York's cultural history, Vulture asked a scattering of top local artists to reminisce nigh the six-story retailer, which multimedia-installation specialist Justin Lowe lovingly referred to as "the StairMaster, helping lower Manhattan burn off those giant-cola calories for years."

Julian Schnabel: Years ago, I was down there with my cousin'due south married woman Corky. She was wild — she wore makeup on her legs, and she had a streak in her hair like Yvonne De Carlo in The Munsters. She liked to pigment. I had overalls on with just a T-shirt and looked like any. It was 1973 probably. I was making these Projected Drawing Examination paintings that were evidently very different than Brice Marden or Ellsworth Kelly's or anything else people were thinking about in 1973 or '74. I've never shown those paintings. I had 1 at the Whitney Museum when I was a student — perhaps they'll stop up somewhere to be seen at some time.

Nosotros were trying to buy a bunch of supplies with my cousin Jesse's credit card. They looked at the credit card, and then they looked at us and thought mayhap nosotros stole the card, so they called Jesse upwardly. He was a physician who became the head of trauma at St. Vincent's. They said, "There's somebody here with this credit card and nosotros want to know if it belongs to y'all."

He said, "Well, does the woman take dyed blonde pilus and imitation eyelashes and look like she stepped out of the backstage of some kind of silent movie, and is she with some guy who has wild hair and is kind of dressed like a bum?"

"Yep, that'due south them."

"Yes, that's my cousin and my wife. It's okay, they can charge information technology on my card."

Marilyn Minter: Well, it was always right down the street. I got all my supplies there for years. It's difficult to believe they are closing. I Sabbatum night, I saw the Bush Tetras perform at Danceteria, and the next week, I recognized their guitar player, Pat Identify, was behind the counter. She was a legend! I retrieve she was in the Contortions, also. Blew my mind. You saw famous artists, like Vito Acconci, purchase supplies there all the time. Not then many assistants in those days. Kinda absurd for someone right out of school.

Nir Hod: When I moved to New York, it changed my paintings and the style I work. Compared to Israel, it was and then full and rich with so many new materials, brushes, and a big range of paints that I never knew. As an artist, I felt like a kid going for the starting time time into some toy shop. I bought so many new materials I hadn't heard of or used before, and that developed my work in new directions. The best retentivity I have is 10 years agone, I went in that location and bought a big, new, heavy white sail they just had in a whorl. The guy who used to work with me by mistake stretched it on the wrong side, but I liked the effect of the opposite side of the canvas. I plant some acrylic medium to cover the canvas with and so I tin work amend, and it reminded me of Francis Bacon paintings. After that mistake, I worked for some years in that fashion. The craft store they used to have was my favorite part of the store. Every time I used to go there, my work concluded up covered with glitter and shiny gold stuff. There was something very artistic and crude at that place — this heavy odor of paint made the place romantic compared to many new art stores, which look like Duane Reade.

Tom Sachs: Almost every project built in my studio from 1986 to 2004 has components from Pearl. At one point, Pearl was so humming that the treads of the five stories of stairs had to exist replaced annually.

But Pearl has sucked for more than a decade. Once upon a time, it was the Mecca of all things fine art-supply, merely like all the other greats of Canal Street, it has faded and died, along with so many other remnants of what fabricated NYC the hub of the great Nazi-killing machine known as Usa.

Shirin Neshat: How sad, I didn't know that Pearl Pigment was closing. I still have a studio across the street from there on Canal Street, and was at Pearl Pigment just a few weeks ago.

I'm a photographer, not a painter, but I used to become there to buy ink and brushes for writing calligraphy on my photographs.

I started to go there in the mid-1980s. I call up that every time, while walking upwards their many stairs, I would run into the coolest artists, many of them turning into celebrity painters. So for me going to Pearl Paint in the '80s was entering a scene, interacting with other artists, watching what type of art supplies they bought, likewise every bit how they dressed and looked. Often times the staff were artists, so one ended up having bang-up conversations and gave you swell advice well-nigh supplies. I remember on the weekends Pearl Pigment was particularly buzzing with artists.

Later the business organization expanded, and many of us felt that it became less personal and more commercial and seemed to serve more than art students than professional artists. Also, the scene changed, because artists started to have assistants, so they no longer shopped for their art materials themselves, simply sent a list with their assistants.

So my feeling is the endmost of Pearl Pigment is partially a reflection of economic system, only also partially reflection of how corporate the art scene — and even New York artists — accept get. It'due south quite lamentable, actually.

Teresita Fernandez: My beginning studio in New York was in Tribeca, on the corner of Greenwich and Desbrosses. Going to Pearl Paint for supplies required a strategy: You had to organize a shopping listing vertically, because you lot had to pay for items earlier leaving each floor. This required a kind of stacking in one's mind, and usually meant starting from the sixth floor and working your way down. Each floor was its own little separate kingdom — mold-making on half dozen, paper on iii, and so on. I distinctly call back that the stairs between the fifth and 6th floors were a danger zone, the unlabeled space where you lot could get caught smuggling merchandise from one level to another, not because yous were stealing, only because you wanted to pay but once.

half-dozen New York Artists on the Closing of Pearl Pigment