At 22 years old, I got an unpaid internship at the Capp Street Project, a nonprofit artist residency program in San Francisco. I’d only ever worked service-industry jobs at cafés and salons.
I was living with my parents when I got the interview, so my mom took me to the Bebe store to purchase a new suit. It was a Jackie O–inspired cut, with a cropped black jacket and A-line skirt. When I arrived, I realized I was overdressed for the office. Still, they offered me the job on the spot. I kept doing café work so I could make money.
At Capp Street, I labeled and ordered the slide histories of all their exhibitions. I helped organize the Gary Hill show, which was the last residency at Capp Street, from March to June of 1998. The organization closed later that year.
Tony Meier was on Capp Street’s board of directors. It was 1998, he’d recently opened his gallery Anthony Meier Fine Arts, and he was preparing an exhibition of work by Australian artist Gail Hastings. He needed someone to answer the door and serve drinks at the opening. He called Capp Street to ask if anyone was interested. It was my job to answer the phone, so he spoke to me!
Tony offered cash for a few hours of work, and the rate was higher than what the café paid me. After my “success” at the opening, he offered me $10 per hour to work at his gallery one day per week. Later that year, he brought me on full-time, at a $27,000 annual salary. I stayed with him for two decades, working with artists who became dear friends. That was the best part of the job.
