№ 0001·SUPERSTAR 001·Chinatown·AUG 14 2026·2:13 AM
LENA
Painter
Lena paints in a former garment workroom above a fish market on Eldridge Street. The windows don't close all the way. She says the smell is part of the rent. She has been in New York for six years and has had, by her count, eleven apartments, four studios, and one show, which she describes as "fine."
She works at night because the building is quiet and because, she says, she can't stand being seen not-working during the day.
- Q
- What time is it?
- A
It's 2:13. I know because I've been avoiding looking at the clock since one.
- Q
- When did you decide you were a painter?
- A
I didn't. I just kept doing it until other people started using the word. I still don't say it first. If someone at a party asks what I do, I say I work in a kitchen, which was true until March.
- Q
- What's the painting behind you?
- A
My sister's apartment in Bushwick from memory. I've painted it four times. I've never been there at night, so I'm making up the light.
- Q
- Who do you paint for?
- A
Honestly? One person. She doesn't know. That's not romantic, it's just how I keep the standard high.
- Q
- What's the worst thing about being an artist in New York right now?
- A
Everyone is very supportive and no one has any money. So you get a lot of love and no rent.
- Q
- And the best?
- A
I can walk out of here at 4 AM and there's still someone on the corner who wants to talk. That doesn't exist anywhere else. That's the whole reason.
“I don't want to be famous. I want to be in a group show with people I'm afraid of.”
A list she gave us when we asked what she was working on. Item four is crossed out.
She walked us to the door and then down to the street and then to the corner. She said she wasn't going back up yet.