Long Story Short

All good stories start at home.

Long Story Short’s Will Leung doesn’t take himself too seriously. His devotion to art and artists, though? That he takes seriously. In a world that glorifies short-term gains and sky-high price increases, Will has cemented himself as a partner-in-growth for many artists in NYC. And Los Angeles. And Paris.

Will grew up in the neighborhood. He has a background in ecommerce and fashion. But that eventually took a backseat to his next love: art. Once he became a collector, he never looked back.

He jokes that his home became like a very big group show, as supporting artists meant buying a painting. Eventually, he realized that buying single works would only get the artist so far… so he asked himself: what would have a bigger impact?

He’d soon partnered up with beloved and respected Bill Brady of ATM Gallery (named because there was an ATM inside the gallery, in case you were wondering). Bill passed away, and Will decided to go on alone. Will now has galleries at 52 Henry Street as well as a street-facing window-only gallery on Grand Street and big spaces on LaBrea Avenue in Los Angeles and 23 rue Charlot in Paris.

The Henry Street locations – one abuts 56Henry Gallery (Will and 56Henry owner Ellie Rines are buddies) and the other is further west in a former music school run by the landlord, Ms. Moy. (Hence, the signage outside the gallery.) On Sundays, you’ll see aunties from the neighborhood sitting on the bench outside the gallery.

Will gives emerging a plinth to stand on. He is a supporter, collector and mentor. Sometimes he not only shows the student but the teacher, too. He’s been known to let an established artist curate a show of younger artists they admire and mentor. For many of the artists he shows, it’s their first showing in NYC.

Right now, Will is focusing on artists who condense. Who turn a long story into a single painting or group of paintings. It’s not unusual to find hyperrealist paintings in here, with palettes that conjure up revolutionary paintings of 1800s France. Or works that give a little nod to pirate movies. Or fabulist landscapes in rich, jewel tones that transport you into imaginary realms. Realms that also, somehow, wave across the waves to Japanese anime from the 1990s. Magic happens in here. The kind that comes from a tender eye, a curator who would have all of these works up on his wall at home.