A Late-Life Art Debut Is Fueled by Strangers and Community

Ben Feldshuh has been an artist ever since he painted a submarine in kindergarten. But few people knew.

Growing up in New York City with a poor father who wanted his children to pursue financially stable careers, Feldshuh went on to become a psychiatrist. While Feldshuh continued to paint in his free time and even studied in the late artist Sam Adler’s studio, his passion remained a private antidote to his clinical work.

“Psychiatry is precise work and serious work — you’re operating on the brain,” says the 89-year-old, who retired about four years ago. “Art is freedom. There are no rules.”

But there is heartbreak. About 35 years ago, Feldshuh sent some of his work to a local gallery. It was accepted, and the venue hosted an extravagant show largely on his dime. But at the end of the night — and $10,000 in the red later — Feldshuh had to take every creation back home.

One of the many Feldshuh paintings that sold this winter: Sweet Cheeks in the Sunshine, 2010

Courtesy of Hera

“The show was a disaster, financially and emotionally. It was a traumatic situation that no one really wanted to buy anything, and they were beautiful paintings,” Feldshuh says. “So I just stopped painting for the public. I painted for myself from that point on.”

That is, until an evening in February when Feldshuh became a real painter. The kind who attracts waitlists of strangers and sells every piece. The kind who wants to paint every day until he dies.

“It was always Saturday and Sunday or late at night,” he says. “It’s going to be a daily routine because now, I’m an artist, and I’m accepting the title of artist.”

A chance encounter

Feldshuh’s path to public artist traces back to a few months ago, when an entrepreneur named Jenny Lee was wrapping up a breakfast meeting in a diner in Manhattan. Her party spotted Feldshuh enjoying his regular toast and orange juice alone and struck up a conversation.

“He said, ‘My biggest fear is that I pass and no one has seen my art,’ ” remembers Lee, the cofounder and CEO of the health care platform Hera. When Feldshuh invited the group to his apartment across the street to take a look, Lee told him, “The world needs to see this.”

Marriage Dinner, 2010

Courtesy of Hera

She got to work making that happen, planning to put a few of Feldshuh’s compositions up at her office and invite some friends. But when she posted a clip to TikTok encouraging New Yorkers to come out to support Feldshuh, it went viral.

RSVPs exceeded the office’s 150-person capacity overnight. Hundreds more people joined the waitlist. Others messaged Lee’s team to claim the art. Then Peerspace — a sort of Airbnb for event space — caught wind of the event and donated a larger venue. The guest list grew to 500, then 600, then more.