Danny Ghitis
On a sultry evening in Aspen, Colorado, as storm clouds roll in over the Rocky Mountains, I make my way up the stone path of Jeanne Greenberg Rohatyn’s vacation home. Her husband, financier Nick Rohatyn, greets me at the porch, along with their children, Alexander, Coco, and Clara. I’ve come for dinner with close friends and family.
Inside, Greenberg Rohatyn moves effortlessly among her guests, proffering drinks and passing hors d’oeuvres. Her laugh occasionally rings out as she chats with friends and hugs new arrivals. Lithe and sylphlike as a dancer, she’s fine-featured, with anthracite eyes.
The owner of Salon 94 in New York, Greenberg Rohatyn is a respected art dealer, curator, advisor—and fashion icon. She’s appeared in Vogue, ELLE, W magazine, and New York Magazine. With her finger ever on the pulse of what is relevant and exciting, she was a judge on Bravo TV’s Work of Art: The Next Great Artist. She’s launched the careers of myriad artists.
Art fills her own home in Aspen, providing pops of color, humor, and movement. A blue painting titled The Legend from Richard Prince’s Tiffany series plays off alphabet-inspired works by contemporary artist Aida Ruilova. An enormous ceramic snail, created by Dutch industrial designer Hella Jongerius, appears to be steadily making its way across the room.
Everything interacts with the views outside, echoing Greenberg Rohatyn’s belief that objects should play off of each other while enhancing one’s living experience.
Growing up in Clayton, Jeanne’s tastes were dramatically shaped by the world around her. At friends’ homes, she would note the elaborate themes in some rooms, “from trophy rooms adorned with exotic taxidermy and home dioramas to red-lacquered ‘Chinese’ dining rooms.”
In her own childhood home, a Betty Woodman pillow pitcher sat atop a Giacometti table. “Before my mother entertained, she would cradle this vessel and carry it into the pantry, where we would fill it with wildflowers,” she recalls. “This form never behaved as a mere vase; it stood clearly in our home as an object of ceremony. The act of filling it became a ritual.”
Jeanne’s father, art dealer Ronald Greenberg, adorned their home with art and frequently hosted artists, including Andy Warhol, Marilyn Minter, and Betty Woodman. Jeanne and her siblings would often visit art museums and galleries, where her parents would lead them on scavenger hunts. “We would show them a picture or an object, and see if they could find it,” her mother, children’s-book author Jan Greenberg, recalls with a broad smile. “Jeanne was always fascinated by art. She loved playing the game.”
Every year, Jeanne would travel with her father to the Art Basel fair in Switzerland, as well as other art-filled parts of Europe. Perhaps it was inevitable, then, that she’d eventually follow in her father’s footsteps. “I knew that I wanted to be in the business,” she says, “and knew that I was almost incapable of anything else.”
In 2002, after studying art at Vassar College and New York University’s Institute of Fine Arts, Greenberg Rohatyn founded Salon 94. She opened the art gallery in her town house on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, with the first floor consisting of an exhibition space and the second floor serving as both a gallery and living quarters. She chose the location—which remains her primary base of operation—to be near her children.
As the sun sets, Greenberg Rohatyn frequently mentions family. Evidence of her children’s interests is scattered throughout the home: Coco’s pink-dyed cowboy hat for an upcoming skating competition, Clara’s craft projects, Alexander’s books on the dining-room table.
It’s there that Greenberg Rohatyn recounts how she met David Hammons, the celebrated and reclusive artist who grew up in Springfield, Ill. In graduate school, while working on a survey for a show at London’s Royal Academy of Arts with then-director Sir Norman Rosenthal, Greenberg Rohatyn noticed the survey was sorely lacking in women and African-American artists. Rosenthal challenged her to find Hammons, whose unconventional work often revolves around civil rights. After attempting to reach him by phone with no success, Greenberg Rohatyn visited his home in New York’s Harlem neighborhood and rang the doorbell. When there was no response, she purchased a bouquet of flowers and left them on the doorstep. She tried this approach several more times. Finally, on her last attempt, the door of a nearby apartment opened. Hammons peeked out.
“You’ve been leaving them at the wrong door,” he said.
No one laughs harder at this story than Greenberg Rohatyn, who’s since developed a long-standing connection with the artist. She has a knack for forming a strong rapport with artists—perhaps, in part, because of the same fresh approach that won over Hammons. Greenberg Rohatyn has worked with a range of artists, both established and emerging: Nate Lowman, Jayson Musson, Wangechi Mutu, Lorna Simpson, the late Terry Adkins…
Along with Greenberg Rohatyn’s original gallery, Salon 94 now has two more locations: Salon 94 Freemans and Salon 94 Bowery, both located on New York’s Lower East Side. They showcase work from artists whom Greenberg Rohatyn represents, as well as a carefully curated selection of works reflecting her connection to the world—and to pop culture.
The first time Greenberg Rohatyn met baseball player Alex Rodriguez, it was at Salon 94. He came in to see a collection of Richard Prince Joke paintings, but another artist’s work grabbed his attention instead. “What caught his eye, actually, was a small Nate Lowman smiley-face piece,” she says, referring to the work of the 35-year-old painter and sculptor. “The same kind of practice he put into his work as an athlete, he wanted to see in the artists of his generation.”
Indeed, when Rodriguez opened his home to a select group of collectors during the 2011 Art Basel show in Miami Beach, Greenberg Rohatyn installed a series of Lowman’s smiling paintings—enough to fill an entire batting cage. The result, in some ways, reflected the sight Rodriguez has often seen while on the field at Yankee Stadium.
Then, last year, Greenberg Rohatyn collaborated with another notable client: Jay Z. For the release of his 2013 album, Magna Carta Holy Grail, and the video for his single “Picasso Baby,” the rapper hoped to create an art-inspired event, performing the same song over and over, similar to performance artist Marina Abramovic.
Last July, a crowd formed at Pace Gallery in New York’s Chelsea neighborhood to see Jay Z repeatedly rap the lyrics to “Picasso Baby” over the course of six hours. He rapped to a variety of guests: actress Rosie Perez, director Judd Apatow, art dealers, designers, writers, fashion designers, other musicians—even Abramovic herself.
As The New York Times later recounted, “It was Ms. Greenberg Rohatyn who subtly and with little fanfare acted as a guiding force.”
Tonight, Greenberg Rohatyn is dressed in flowing cream chiffon pants and a T-shirt. A black ’70s-style tracksuit jacket emblazoned with “Salon 94” is draped around her shoulders.
“I found this at a boutique in town,” she says. “You could have anything sewn on the back, and they had a whole bunch of different patches you could add to it.” Hers is a four-leaf clover.
One can’t speak about Greenberg Rohatyn and not mention fashion. It’s not something studied with her; it comes naturally. She often dresses to match her mood. She describes her style as classic, but with an eccentric touch.
“I like established designers like Saint Laurent, which appeals to my idea of a woman being in a uniform every day—classic, straight-lined, masculine, almost a suit,” she says. “But I also love Rodarte. They have this kind of artisanal, crafted look, which appeals to my bohemian side.” This is also an apt description of Greenberg Rohatyn’s personality: serious, intense, and professional, yet playful, girlish, and romantic.
Such labels don’t bother Greenberg Rohatyn. She’s been termed a socialite, a fashionista, an art brat. “But I am an art brat!” she laughs. “I am the daughter of two parents who were involved in art, whose entire investigation was ‘How do we look at an object?’”
As for the term socialite, Greenberg Rohatyn is proud of the women she surrounds herself with: fashion designers and art-world impresarios, including Tory Burch, Yvonne Force Villareal, and St. Louis native Gigi Newhard Mortimer. “The women of my generation who were coined socialites are all hardworking and doing amazing things, running billion-dollar companies and on boards of major hospitals and museums,” she says. “I am immensely proud of them and proud to be included amongst them. So what if I’m called a socialite? Bring it on!”
She then adds, “What else did you read?” and breaks into laughter.
The storm has broken over the mountains. Thunder rumbles in the distance, as the cicadas’ song swells and guests make their way out the door. The family talks about an upcoming whitewater adventure and a camping trip. For now, though, Greenberg Rohatyn stands at the door, with her sleepy daughter Coco leaning against her side. Seeing the gallerist here, removed from the chaos of New York, she’s serene, in her element.
The sight reminds me of something she said earlier, when asked what makes her so genuine. With a sly smile, she’d replied, “It’s probably because I’m from the Midwest.”
