Gallery visitors mingle with snakes at the Snake and Sip event.
(Maryna Levytska/Courtesy Fugue Gallery)

Fugue Gallery wants you to get connected

Like many other art world–inclined New Yorkers, I trekked from Bushwick to SoHo in early September to check out a gallery. Dodging tourists posing for photos in the middle of Mulberry Street, tour guides orating Little Italy’s lore, and restaurant hosts trying to persuade me to sit down for lunch, I wove my way to an inconspicuous door situated between La Nonna and Umbertos. After ascending four flights of stairs (the elevator was out of order), I finally made it to the oasis I was seeking: Fugue Gallery, a contemporary art gallery rooted in interdisciplinary collaborations. The din of the street faded, replaced by ambient piano music playing gently over bespoke speakers by designer Otis Gordon. I felt the muscles between my eyebrows relax.

I was welcomed into the space by Eric Chan, Fugue’s founder and a sculptor, and Helena Elston, the gallery manager and a textile designer. They offered me sparkling water and guided me to a comfortable crescent-shaped couch. My visit was during that turnover period when many galleries, fresh off their summer vacations or stints in the Hamptons, explode anew with fall exhibitions, but the summer hadn’t slowed Fugue down at all. “We’ve had a dozen events just this summer,” Elston told me.  

This wasn’t my first time at the gallery: I had previously walked through their current exhibition, Forbidden Fruit, and attended a sound bath there hosted by Sub Luna Collective. Forbidden Fruit, a group exhibition exploring themes of transformation, rebirth, and the interplay between decay and life, felt apt for the space’s inaugural show. Fugue’s first iteration was on Bowery and Canal Street out of Chan’s own studio in 2025. During this first run, the gallery copied the traditional gallery model with monthly exhibitions in a white-walled space. But maintaining that cadence proved financially and physically taxing, leading Chan to close that space in search of a more sustainable path. The Mulberry Street location opened this past May, ushering in a new era of Fugue centered on connecting artists with each other, collectors, and the general public. A gallery transformed. 

To embody this vision, Fugue couldn’t be a stiff space, and that it isn’t. Its brick walls, exposed beams, and ample seating make the loft cozy and congenial, a striking contrast to the typical white-walled, street-level galleries one finds in Tribeca or Chelsea. Elston said people often describe Fugue as “like a home.” There’s nothing ostentatious or intimidating about the space or even the art itself. Stepping into the gallery feels like you’re entering the home of a friend with great taste, a far cry from establishment strongholds like David Zwirner or Gladstone. Elston and Chan speak of Fugue as a place for the mid-tier: artists at mid-points in their careers, and younger collectors who have a sense of what they’re looking for. Art lovers, patrons, and artists alike are seeking new ways of interacting with art and each other, joining the hordes searching for the ever-elusive “third space.” Could this be Fugue? 

While the ultimate purpose of most gallery spaces is to sell art, Fugue’s exhibitions stretch beyond the art on the walls into multisensory, multidisciplinary experiences. The art is for sale, but Chan and Elston aren’t solely focused on courting collectors, though it is part of their plan for growing the gallery. They want to home in on the experiential aspect of art, making it as accessible to art appreciators who may not have the financial means to take home a painting just as much as patrons. Some events at Fugue are ticket-based, but others—like a scent-based exploration and aromatherapy evening—are free to attend. 

 “We are on a new wave of artists and technology and collectors,” Chan said. “Everything has changed. The economy, the politics. The gallery has to find a new way to add value.”  

New galleries opening around New York are rising to this challenge. Amid a spurt of galleries and artist-run spaces popping up in apartments across the boroughs (like Chorus and Isolde, which COPY has previously covered), Fugue stands out with its breadth of programming beyond the visual art that’s for sale. To name just a few events they’ve hosted: listening sessions, short film screenings, post–gallery hopping after parties, and even a “Snake and Sip” gathering where attendees could meet the reptilian models of David Zheng’s photographs in Forbidden Fruit.  

“ Seeing all the artworks collide in the different mediums and thinking about how one subject could be said in many different forms, that's something I want to bring to the gallery as well,” Chan said.

It’s an ambitious project to undertake, one that risks cacophony with the multitude of art forms present at Fugue at any one time. But Chan’s commitment to transformation through collaboration is strong and he understands the importance of iteration and adaptation. Fugue’s first go at the more traditional gallery model didn’t work and now the Fugue team is five months into its next evolution. Like any art practice, the gallery itself will continue to change, a living sculpture. 

October is the final month to see Forbidden Fruit at Fugue.