Get the Picture: A Mind-Bending Journey among the Inspired Artists and Obsessive Art Fiends Who Taught Me How to See

by Bianca Bosker

The New York Times bestselling author of Cork Dork takes readers on another fascinating, hilarious, and revelatory journey—this time burrowing deep inside the impassioned, secretive world of art and artists

An award-winning journalist obsessed with obsession, Bianca Bosker’s existence was upended when she wandered into the art world—and couldn’t look away. Intrigued by artists who hyperventilate around their favorite colors and art fiends who max out credit cards to show hunks of metal they think can change the world, Bosker grew fixated on understanding why art matters and how she—or any of us—could engage with it more deeply.

In Get the Picture , Bosker throws herself into the nerve center of art and the people who live for gallerists, collectors, curators, and, of course, artists themselves—the kind who work multiple jobs to afford their studios while scrabbling to get eyes on their art. As she stretches canvases until her fingers blister, talks her way into A-list parties full of billionaire collectors, has her face sat on by a nearly-naked performance artist, and forces herself to stare at a single sculpture for hours on end while working as a museum security guard, she discovers not only the inner workings of the art-canonization machine but also a more expansive way of living.

Probing everything from cave paintings to Instagram, and from the science of sight to the importance of beauty as it examines art’s role in our culture, our economy, and our hearts, Get the Picture is a rollicking adventure that will change the way you see forever.

Genres: Art, Nonfiction, Memoir, Audiobook, Biography, Book Club, Art History

380 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 2024

About the author

Bianca Bosker is an award-winning journalist and the author of Cork Dork: A Wine-Fueled Adventure Among the Obsessive Sommeliers, Big Bottle Hunters, and Rogue Scientists Who Taught Me to Live for Taste.

Bosker has written about food, wine, architecture, and technology for The New Yorker online, The Atlantic, T: The New York Times Style Magazine, Food & Wine, The Wall Street Journal, The Guardian, and The New Republic. The former executive tech editor of The Huffington Post, she is the author of the critically acclaimed book Original Copies: Architectural Mimicry in Contemporary China (University of Hawaii Press, 2013). She lives in New York City.

Reviews

[Charles · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is one of a kind, and Bianca Bosker’s slightly bonkers adventures in today’s art world kept growing on me. Not only was I not getting tired of Get the Picture in the second half, I continued enjoying each new section more than the previous one, and was sad to see this ride come to an end, eventually.

A seasoned journalist, Bosker inserted herself in four distinct environments in particular: contemporary art galleries, art fairs, studios, and museums. She didn’t just pop in for an interview: she got herself hired and lived the insider’s life for months at a time in each place. She didn’t choose just any location or context, either: the art fair was Art Basel Miami Beach, the museum was the Guggenheim, an artist whose studio routines she got to observe up close was Julie Curtiss, etc.

The result is an insightful and unpretentious look at artists, gallerists, collectors, and other related members of the fauna. The author’s take on all of them proved insightful precisely because she approached everything as a total neophyte and made it a point to reveal each unadulterated lesson as it first came to her, freeing herself (and you) of anything bon ton. In the introduction to this book, this made for a spunky tone that I was anxious to be rid of, as Bosker couldn’t stress enough how ignorant she was, sometimes testing my patience, but thankfully things soon did ease into a more comfortable groove—without losing in candour.

Did I always agree with the choice of personalities spotlighted in here? No, and while other reviewers already made a point of mentioning a toxic gallerist, I feel like an unusual prude for having to admit that some narcissist flaunting her augmented butt on social channels (an “ass influencer”) didn’t really hit me as an artist, in turn. (An entrepreneur? Sure. An artist? No.) It’s all part of an evolving art world, I guess, and I understand how the sheer mention of that singular character contributes to the book’s entertainment factor; though this didn’t colour my overall enjoyment of Get the Picture, it did raise an eyebrow. Or two.

Regardless, as a bonus, it was great fun to be able to check out online the various galleries and artists featured in this book: the vast majority had other art to show than their own body parts. If, as a dilettante, you still enjoy today’s art, and more generally today’s culture; if, for instance, you feel that abstraction wasn’t the be-all and end-all of visual arts, and a painter’s creative process remains alive and relevant today after trending towards the figurative again; if installation art also qualifies, in your eyes; well hey, have I got a book for you.

I remember learning for myself, one day, to take my time in a museum, and focus on pieces that draw me naturally, instead of trying to see everything and getting out of there exhausted every time. I remember acquiring a first painting, years later, not a print, and coming to terms with my own preferences as an occasional buyer, which had nothing to do with iconic works. Learning precisely such things was part of the author’s own journey in Get the Picture, but she also learns much, much more, and it’s a beauty to follow her as she cuts a trail through so many facets of the art industry. She has so much to say.

Going back to her stint as a guard at the Guggenheim, Bianca Bosker has some advice for you if you’re still submitting yourself to the ordeal of trying to take in all the art when you visit:

“I started to imagine how I’d lead my own tour. You’d meet me at the rotunda, just outside the ticket desk, and we’d begin by settling on some ground rules:

One: You don’t have to look at everything.

Two: You do have to look at something for at least five minutes.

Three: Don’t you dare lay your eyes on the wall text—that is, the paragraph-long explanation pasted on the wall beside many of the artworks.”

Why the above ground rules? Read the book and find out.

[Ula Tardigrade · Rating 5 out of 5]

I think it takes a considerable amount of courage to admit, as the author does in the introduction, that “a lot of the [contemporary] art I saw was barely recognizable as art". And yet it is a very common sentiment. I myself stopped trying to "understand" what I saw in galleries and museums - I just decided that I liked some of it and was left indifferent to the rest. But Bianka Bosker does not give up so easily. With a level of obsession worthy of a medieval knight-errant, she sets out to explore the art world and comes back with a most strange tale to tell.

It is hilarious, but also very insightful and informative. I loved her writing, her uncanny ability to capture things in perfect phrases. The book is full of keen observations (“I’d noticed that art devotees spoke like they were trapped in dictionaries and being forced to chew their way out") and deep dives into the history of art and the human connection to it. In all its intensity, it was a slow read for me, I had to take breaks - but each time I returned to it, I was immediately captivated.

Thanks to the publisher, Penguin Group Viking, and NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book.

[Jenna · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ok, ok, I’ll admit it: I didn’t love this as much as everyone else in the world seems to have done!


Having got that out of the way: this book offers a tour around the world of contemporary art through the lenses of selected players within that subculture, including artists, gallerists and dealers, and spectators and buyers, with whom the author endeavors to deeply embed herself. It’s sort of like Nelly Bly going rogue at Bellevue, only without the undercover guise or high stakes social justice aims and outcomes.


If you already have some familiarity with contemporary art and the aesthetic or intellectual challenges it may present to some viewers, and if you don’t harbor any great objections to any of this and especially if you already appreciate this type of art - then you may not be the primary audience for this book. The book very much operates from the stance that contemporary art is SO WEIRD, and what possibly gives?! Aside from that, it mostly offers a variety of character sketches from the art world combined with progress updates on Bosker’s journey toward appreciating the art itself: the author and her reporting project and corresponding personal growth and learning process seemed the subject of the book more than anything else to me.


I’ll give Bosker this: she genuinely seems personally invested in connecting with what makes all these folks flip their expensive, avant-garde lids over making, selling, viewing, and purchasing art that many might perceive as impractical, challengingly opaque, and perhaps even offputting. And “deeply invested” is an understatement: Bosker is like a dog with a bone here. I have to admit that while on some level I admired her commitment to her project, at times her breathless and Bradshaw-esque, “I couldn’t help but wonder…?!”- style enthusiasm grated on me and I wanted to tell her to just cool it. Sometimes the level-11-out-of-10 intensity and tone (and this was on audio for me, notably) presented like she was sending dispatches to Earth while exploring the topography and denizens of Venus. Calm down!


I know the contemporary art subculture is unusual and interesting and all, but - is it truly THAT unusual and interesting anymore? Especially relative to other contemporary subcultures? You could argue that it’s actually a little old-fashioned, traditional, and quaintly tame. Part of me wanted to say, people have been making art since the beginning of time, plus add capitalism, classism, exclusionary elitism and its fashion trends, and this is what happens, so chill. Nothing much new to see here.


Despite its spiritual and intellectual swathings, art and its market and production unfortunately do not exist outside of the framework of patriarchy and racism, and the parts of the book that focused on this, particularly on the struggles of women and women of color and younger women to break into the nouveau art world’s very old-world gatekeeping, were the most interesting for me.


The continued reign of old-world elitist, patriarchal gate-keeping is especially evident in Bosker’s decision to begin the book with an extended segment detailing her time with a wealthy young white male gallerist who, if the portrayal is accurate, comes off as exactly the sort of verbally and emotionally abusive, hateful, scornful, top-notch snob that you might expect as a stereotypical worst-case scenario perpetrator of this ugliest part of the art world.


I am still curious about the choice to give such a seemingly detestable, distasteful trash person so much space and voice - and therefore power - in this narrative. I… couldn’t help but wonder (?!) about leading with this Mean Boi and allowing him this front and center representation when the rest of the book presents far more complex, interesting, unexpected, sympathetic, and relatable, if quirky, characters. I suppose this framework is meant to help convey the message of yes, there is some of the bullshit and assholery you’d fully expect here, but there is also so much more beauty and humanity and passion! But still, this felt unfair to the overall subject of the art itself and to the many others in the book, especially the artists themselves, who allowed Bosker access to their lives and thoughts. And for me, this section was so hard to get through that I almost didn’t make it to the other side where I was able to meet them too.


Anywho, I hope the villagers don’t come for me with the flaming torches here! It really is a perfectly fine book, don’t get me wrong. I guess I just didn’t get all the fuss. But good for her that she found something to be excited and passionate about: such is the point of life!

[Left Coast Justin · Rating 5 out of 5]

A talented author can read a great book and squeeze out of it a compelling essay. Bosker has set for herself the more difficult task of taking a great essay and swelling it up into a compelling book. This requires not just talent but an odd sort of genius.

I’ll begin with the essay, which asks the question, “How should I approach and appreciate a piece of artwork?” She takes this assignment seriously. The first several chapters of the book describe her attempts to learn from the art insiders of Manhattan and Brooklyn. This leads nowhere, or perhaps only to her observation that

Today we hail Picasso’s Les Demoiselles d’Avignon as art and dismiss a needlepoint pillow that says “NAP QUEEN” as lowly “craft”…yet the notion that fine art exists as a separate category unto itself and moves us more deeply than mere stuff is actually a recent invention, one that’s newer and more European than the cuckoo clock.

This leads her to Ellen Dissanayake, who advocates “banning the word art altogether on the grounds that it’s uselessly vague, and argues we shouldn’t treat art as anything but a behavior.” That’s an interesting way of looking at it. This behavior is further defined as “taking ordinary things and making them special.”

This is a step in the right direction but doesn’t get Bosker over the finish line. She attends a neurology convention and is very excited to learn about “preconception filters.” You don’t win the biological gold medal by accurately perceiving everything around you – it’s far more important to learn to literally filter out most of what you see and instead make educated guesses about the dangers and opportunities the environment is throwing at you. As I type, I am wearing a white shirt with pale purple stripes on it, but where the shirt falls under the edge of the table, the stripes are quite clearly gray – but my brain insists on telling me they’re purple, because I “know” they are purple.

Artists are better than normal folk at seeing what’s there instead of what they expect to be there, but Bosker is an advocate for learning this skill yourself. With concentration and practice, anybody can learn to see the real world, and discover in it beauty in the strangest places. The ultimate lesson of the essay is that you shouldn’t approach an artwork any differently than anything else; beauty is everywhere if you train yourself to see it.

She makes this case in 344 pages, so clearly I’ve skipped a lot.

Her technique is to bring us along with her on various deep dives into the worlds of art and vision. She’s a gifted writer and makes this interesting. She started to win me over on p. 2, writing: “Growing up in Oregon, I was a sun-starved little weirdo who painted obsessively.” I find this a fantastic example of self-assessment. Having moved to New York after her days at Princeton, she found the art world irresistibly beckoning to her.

The first third of the book isn’t great. If we wish to use the art of metaphor, this is the portion of the book where people are still filtering their vision. She spends a lot of time hanging around art galleries in Brooklyn and Manhattan and finds a lot of apparently self-hating artists, collectors and middlemen. And a lot of money, which everybody was desperate to get but not so gauche as to actually mention it at any point. Treating those you utterly depend on with contempt is something I associate with surly people in their early teens, and that’s what a lot of this section felt like.

She meets sunnier and more confident people and the book becomes more enjoyable. I was not surprised to see John McPhee thanked in the credits. Her total-immersion approach to the project would have gotten McPhee’s nod of approval, but I can hardly imagine the straightlaced McPhee writing anything like this:

One morning, Julie (artist Julie Curtiss, who was employing Bosker as an assistant) came in and announced that the most important thing on my to-do list was researching the Newtown Creek Wastewater Treatment Plant.

I’d seen the wastewater plant from the safe, scentless distance of the road, and while I truly appreciated its honorable service on behalf of the city’s bowels, it wouldn’t have made my list of beloved New York landmarks. Julie apparently felt otherwise. “Isn’t it a surreal building?..It looks like eggs or breasts. It’s a very feminine kind of architecture…I want to visit it. Have you ever visited it?”



The silver breasts that Julie admired, which process sewage sludge into fertilizer, are officially called digester eggs. Unofficially, they’re called “shit tits.”

She quotes her time working as a guard at the Guggenheim. (As mentioned before, she goes all in on her assignments.) “By the third shift, I was so bored that I prayed someone would touch the art. Do it, I urged silently from my spot by the wall. Do it so I can tell you not to."

The book isn't perfect, but I loved it. Love doesn't require perfection, but this book made me laugh, got me to educate myself and got me to think hard about things worth thinking about.

A closing note:

I got frustrated thinking about those in the art world pitching the artificial scarcity of great art. Beauty was not expensive or a luxury or hard to come by. It was attention that was in short supply.

[Richard Scott · Rating 5 out of 5]

Overall, I very much enjoyed this book! Mrs. Bosker's critical yet enthusiastic tone is pitch perfect to take the glamour out of a toxic, pretentious environment. As a full time artist working in NY and Paris for the last twenty years, I had many laugh out loud moments, especially because I know some of the people Mrs. Bosker talks about either personally or by reputation. It was even more delightful to learn a few things I hadn't known about the blue chip NY art world. Some of her revelations reinforced my own observations - such as the toxicity in arts administration, and the fact that unless you have "magic money", it's almost impossible to survive long in this highly competitive and opaque world. The "market" doesn't really care about quality, it cares about "context" (i.e. are you rich or cool, do you know rich or cool people?) But, despite the gatekeeping, it can be worth it.

I was one of the rare exceptions. I grew up in a trailer park, had no money or connections when I moved to NY. I'm neither rich nor cool! Through a lot of luck, good timing (also luck), hard work, and carefully cultivated social skills, I was able to carve out my own niche. As Mrs. Bosker says many times, there art many art worlds - which makes the art world feel small, but it means that there can be a judgement free place for you if you know where to look. And what is true in one world isn't necessarily true in another. It is possible to participate in the art world without dealing with the hyper elitism, gas lighting, smoke and mirrors exploitation, price fixing, and money laundering of the 1%. This is perhaps her most salient larger revelation, which I interpret as a commentary on late stage capitalism (and the result of the "greed is good" Reagan revolution). The art market is the largest unregulated market in the world, and as such is a great example of how a laissez-faire or neoliberal free-market actually plays out in the real world: it becomes a toxic, exploitive, Oligarchy. Do we want every other sector of our society to follow?

But as I said there are ways to skirt around that bull$41T and the pay off is the genuine aesthetic experience itself. It was a nice reminder of why I got into this in the first place! I applaud Bianca Bosker in navigating around the toxicity and putting in the hard work of developing her own "eye". Thank you for taking us along on your journey of discovery!

-Richard T Scott

[Caleb Fogler · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this book because I have little knowledge of art and even less of contemporary art and until recently did not care for either. However, I picked up this book to try and understand more about art and thought that a book from a professional writer and not an artist was a good way to get my feet wet.

Get the Picture, is the journey of a journalist to explore the modern art world through multiple roles. She assists a art gallery owner to prep his studio for future works, attends a art festival/con to try and sell art for another gallery owned by a couple, assisted a rising artist with creating canvas and finding inspiration, participates in a performance art with a social influencer/artist, worked as a security guard for a museum, and also interviewed a couple who collects artwork for their personal collection.

Many of the personalities featured in this work came off as rude, snobbish and elitist. The first person the author works with almost made me put the book down with how he presented art to be cliquish and uninviting. A lot of the message was how the art world is basically a giant social networking tribe.

However, the author does work with some individuals who share the excitement for art and what it means in their lives. Through these experiences we see the author’s passion for art and gave me fomo on what I might be missing out on.

Overall the book had its highs and lows, but I came away more curious about art than I was before. The book also challenges the reader to experience art in a different way than I normally would by taking my time with one piece and not trying to experience every piece of art in a museum. I’m excited to give it a try and not read every art description along the way.

[Петър Стойков · Rating 3 out of 5]

Всички знаем, че съвременното изкуство е изключителна тъпотия. Ама няма такава тъпотия просто. До степен да има големи спорове какво е изкуство и дали една творба е "изкуство" и дали наистина е "творба". Например, в настоящата книга е описан "хепънинг" в който "творецът", намазана с олио яка мадама по бански, сяда върху лицата на зрителите и стои така колкото издържат.

Това сега "изкуство" ли е и какво "иска да каже" то? Същият въпрос си задава авторката, както и изкуствоведите, и ню-йоркското арт-общество, особено като се има предвид, че конкретният "творец" (творкиня? артист/ка?) се издържа чрез продаване на клипове на "изкуството" си в OnlyFans. И че на "пърформънсите" й не ходят само изкуствоведи...

Преди години, Том Улф чудесно описа откъсването на изкуството от сферата на красивото, за да може то да остане богаташки флекс над плебеите, което винаги е било. Един вид преди само богатите са можели да поръчат красиво изкуство на художници и скулптори и така са показвали колко по-добри са от обикновения селянин.

След изобретяване на масовото промишлено производство, че и на фотографията, всеки може да има красиво нещо в къщи - затова богатите имат нужда от друг начин да се показват колко са възвишение и почват да се надпреварват да хвалят и купуват все по-абсурдни "творби" и да повтарят как царят не само не е гол, ами дрехите му са връх на добрия вкус и социална ангажираност.

На този фон, Бианка Боскер, след като отлично навлезе в и описа света на виното, си поставя нова цел - отново да почне от нулата и да види какво всъщност става в друга обсесия на хората с претенции - изобразителното изкуство.

Това, което разкрива тя, в общи линии повтаря казаното от Том Улф, като добавя някои любопитни съвременни нюанса. Но реално от времето, когато той е писал, нещата не са се изменили особено - изкуството продължава да бъде обзето от манията по социалната ангажираност и кой познаваш, на кои партита ходиш и какъв е цветът на кожата ти е много по-важно за това как ще бъде прието изкуството ти, от това какво точно представлява то (изкуството).

Самата авторка прекарва дълги месеци в арт-сцената на Ню-Йорк, сблъсква се галеристи, специалисти, колекционери и творци. В началото абсурдното блика от книгата и самата Бианка не може да му хване края на това какво точно правят тия хора и за какво се дават тия хиляди и милиони. Накрая пак не разбира, но започва да й харесва и излиза от цялата работа убедена, че може да ВИЖДА изкуството, в каквато и абсурдна форма да е то. Мен не можа да ме убеди.

[Andrea (EvergreensAndBookishThings) · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was a bit of a disappointment… Learning how to approach art in a new way sounded as if it would be enlightening and advance my love for art. Alas, it mainly exposed the cynical world of art curation and felt disillusioning. The author seemed to bounce all over the place, not really coming to any cohesive theories about art appreciation. Which I guess is kind of the point: how we view art is, and will always be, subjective and indefinite. I think this could have been whittled down to a thoughtful article, rather than a an entire book.

[Alexandra · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is an interesting peak behind the curtain of part of the art world. If you have some curiosity about it, I would recommend this book.

The author (who is a journalist) immersed herself in the world and this book takes you on a journey as she worked with multiple gallery owners, an artist, and as a museum security guard. She evolved not only her knowledge of the dynamics but truly questioned and pushed the boundary on what art really is. Through her genuine curiosity and reflections, the reader benefits.

What even is art? Everyone has different ideas in their heads and it has been attempted to be defined in many ways but the point is that there is no one right definition.

Next time you see some art, don't read the description and move on. Spend time. Look at it. Think and feel for yourself. Don't rush to see everything in a museum and take away a chance to feel something.

When I saw the Guernica in Spain almost a decade ago, I went for the museums opening time and just stared at it. I don't know how much time passed but I do know I never did that before. Then a classroom of kids came and I left. This was the closest I have done to what the author recommends and I have to admit, it was very memorable. I have also been very privileged to be able to go to museums in New York for free with my work pass. Because I didn't have to pay, I allowed myself time in smaller sections of the MET each time I went. However, when I went to Paris and went to the Louvre I knew I wasn't going to be back, at least for a very long time, so I tried to see as much of what I thought I'd enjoy. The idea of giving up seeing things in order to spend more time with fewer works is harder to rationalize when you are far from home and likely won't be back. That is hard to grasp my head around but I will try.

Another topic I enjoyed was the concept of our tastes. The idea of our tastes changing feels like an existential threat, because our tastes become our identity. However, an artist said to her, "I like this" is such a dead end compared to "would I like this?". My tastes have changed and evolved a lot in my life and I am now thinking maybe that is related to my lack of feeling a strong identity. At the same time, it has allowed me to experience different things and have memories in different environments.

Fresh experiences can lead to new tastes and a life that feels longer. When you experience new things, life slows down a little bit. That is why going on trips feels so exciting. It is also a good invitation to try things that you might not think align with your tastes. You never know.

A big thank you to my GR friend Charles for putting this book on my radar.

If anyone knows cool places to see art in Toronto let me know.

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

(3.5) I was a big fan of Bosker’s Cork Dork (2017), her deep dive into the world of fine wine. Her second book is similarly constructed and equally fun: more personal than authoritative, light yet substantial, and accessible to the uninitiated as well as those with an existing interest in the subject. She begins as a complete novice, wondering if she’ll ever know what art is, let alone what it means and whether it’s any good (“the familiar feeling that everyone got the punch line except me”). By the end, she has discovered that, like the love of wine, art appreciation can be a way of expanding and savouring one’s life.

The aim was to get the broadest experience possible, generally through voluntary placements. She started out as an assistant at Jack Barrett’s 315 Gallery, where one of her tasks was to paint a wall white; she failed miserably to meet his expectations even for this simple task. He never lost his fundamental distrust of her, a writer and outsider, as one of “the enemy.” It was expected that she would attend as many art shows and openings as possible per week. “Talking shit was essentially a job requirement.” Bosker might not have known what to make of the art, but others were gossipy, snobbish and opinionated enough to make up for it. When she was tasked with writing a press release for an exhibit, a gallerist taught her the clichéd shorthand: “Every f**king artist allegedly transforms the familiar into the unfamiliar, or vice versa.”

In the course of the book, the New York City-based author also:

-attends the Art Basel Miami Beach contemporary art fair and sells photographs on behalf of Denny Dimin Gallery;

-befriends performance artist and “ass influencer” Mandy AllFIRE, who – ahem – sits on Bosker’s face as part of a temporary installment;

-serves as a studio assistant for French painter Julie Curtiss, whose work is selling for alarmingly high amounts at auction (not actually what a painter wants, as it tends to signal bad things for a career);

-meets a pair of North Dakota collectors known as “the Icy Gays”; and

-works as a Guggenheim Museum guard.

This last was my favourite episode. Forty-minute placements on particular ramps gave her time to focus on one chosen artwork – for instance, an abstract sculpture. She challenged herself to stay with it for that whole time, doing as one artist advised and simply noticing five things about the work. Before, her “default approach to art had just been to plant myself in front of a piece and wait for the epiphany to wash over me.” Now, she worked at it. In fact, she counsels newcomers to not read a caption because many people take a title at face value and an interpretation as gospel, and so don’t experience the art for themselves.

At times I found the book slightly scattered in the way that it zigzags from one challenge to another. There’s differing attention to various experiences; a week-long art school merits just one paragraph. And there’s no getting past the fact that some art she encounters sounds outlandish or just plain silly. (Is it any surprise that she mistakes part of a wall, and a mousetrap, for art pieces?) Ultimately, I think it’s best if you have at least a modicum of appreciation for modern art, which I don’t; whereas I do enjoy drinking wine even if I don’t have a trained palate.

Even so, Bosker’s writing has such verve (“artists were coyly evasive about their work and treated my questions like I was a cactus running after their balloon”; “a hazy daydream of an idea solidified into a yappy, un-shut-uppable chihuahua of want”) that you’ll be glad you went along for the ride. She concludes that taste is subjective, but “Beauty … pulls you close.” Art is valuable because it “knocks us off our well-worn pathways” into something uncharted, a tantalizing prospect.

Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.

[Alisha Fernandez Miranda · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a wonderful book! As a huge fan of Cork Dork, I have been waiting for Bosker’s next deep dive and this did not disappoint. She provides the most fascinating behind the scenes view of the art world that is compelling, delightful and has you alongside her for every step of her deepening obsession. I can’t stop talking about it to all my friends and family. A must read for art newbies and aficionados alike. ❣️

[Louise Hulewsky]

DNF at 40%

[Audrey Approved · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’ve been on an art history kick the past year, so I decided to see if I could gain an appreciation for contemporary art by reading Bianca Bosker’s Get the Picture.

Spoiler - I don’t think it worked (I would visit a museum of Dutch masters over watching a performance art piece any day), but did enjoy my time reading about Bosker’s experiences selling high end art and working as both a museum security guard and artist assistant. I enjoyed much less the part where she got verbally/emotionally abused (that first gallery owner she worked for is SUCH an ass).

This kind of book is a little hard for me to characterize - it’s not what I’d initially categorize as a memoir, but as we tracked Bosker’s experiences learning about art in such an intimate way, it became equally about the subject and the author. Overall, my biggest takeaway is that Bosker has such a strong commitment to diving deep-deep-deep! into her subjects, and for that I really admire her as an investigative journalist and writer.

I’m probably not going to read Bosker’s previous release about wine (never been that interested in it), but I’ll keep an eye out for whatever subject she’s going to deep dive into next!

3.5/5 stars, rounded up

[Jayne · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was so excited about this book because I was thrilled with Cork Dork. Maybe Cork Dork, set the bar too high. I didn’t engage with this as much. The author is a terrific storyteller, and I love her narration of her books I just didn’t feel like I learned anything That I will hold on to about art. Maybe I just like wine more!

[Glen Helfand · Rating 3 out of 5]

Caveat: I'm an art world insider, so this book wasn't written for me. But being someone who works in the arts, I yearn for there to be a cogent view inside. In the same way that art is dependent on context and subjective filters, an objective view of the machinations of making, viewing, selling and buying contemporary art is next to impossible. Bosker's book is one of those journalistic dives into a subject she doesn't quite get, but is intrigued by. She cites her grandmother, who made and taught art, as an inspiration. But Bosker's 'character' is that scoffing, eye-rolling type who finds so much absurdity in art rhetoric and customs. Certainly, it's not untrue that museum wall labels and gallery press releases can be laughable, and Bosker's 'isn't that crazy' position can seem trite. There is, however, accurate information here. Her journalistic actions involve essentially interning for high minded emerging art dealers (who are probably only giving her the time of day because she's free labor), becomes an artist's assistant, a museum guard, and takes art classes. She delves into the history of collecting and color science. She slowly develops an eye and understanding of the value of contemporary art, merging context and beauty, which she often reminds us that the art world frowns upon as an attribute. She offers her experience as advice to others who may want to pass through the portal that leads to art fairs and performance artists sitting on your face.

[Jeff Goodman · Rating 4 out of 5]

As I was approaching the end of this audiobook, I was compelled to drive to the Phoenix Art Museum. I actually listened to the last 5 minutes in the museum's parking lot. Inside, I followed Bianca Bosker's instructions for engaging with the art, and it was honestly an amazing experience. As someone who works in the museum space, I am always thinking about ways to get new audiences to experience beauty (a word Bosker tries to destigmatize in the book). Too often, art feels exclusionary and intimidating, and not for everyone. That's what this book sets out to tackle, including encouraging people to find art in unexpected places. It's not a perfect book, but it's very good, and enlightening. Part expose on the artist and gallery dynamics, and part how to, it's well worth a read or listen.

[CatReader · Rating 4 out of 5]

In Get the Picture, journalist Bianca Bosker spends years exploring the art world, including spending extended periods working as an assistant various art galleries, a studio assistant for contemporary artist Julie Curtiss, and a security officer at the Guggenheim Museum, as well as following various contemporary artists, with the goal of understanding how the art industry operates and what it values. Not all of Bosker's experiences were positive and expose a lot of inequities in the art world. For instance, she comes to appreciate how difficult it is to sustain oneself operating a gallery or creating art, especially in a high cost of living area like New York City, without a robust external revenue stream, i.e., a trust fund from a wealthy family of origin, like the first gallery owner she works for. She talks about how little of the profit of artwork goes back to the original artist (if they're still alive), and how having works an artist originally sold for hundreds of dollars then being resold at auction for thousands or even hundreds of thousands (none of which goes back the artist) can paradoxically doom that artist's career as it can devalue them in the tempestuous art market (as Julie Curtiss struggles with). Bosker doesn't, however, delve into the seedy underside of the art market (for more on that, see books like Orlando Whitfield's All That Glitters: A Story of Friendship, Fraud, and Fine Art or Tony Tetro's Con/Artist: The Life and Crimes of the World's Greatest Art Forger).

Still, despite interacting with so many people who seem utterly snobbish, insufferable, and exceedingly judgmental (akin to art critic Jerry Saltz and his dreadful book Art Is Life: Icons and Iconoclasts, Visionaries and Vigilantes, and Flashes of Hope in the Night, where solely his taste is apparently the Be All End All arbitrator of what is Art and what is Not Art), Bosker gleans valuable insights from her years "infiltrating" the art world. Julie Curtiss seems like a breath of fresh air in her open-mindedness about what should be considered art (she didn't uniformly pan the late Thomas Kinkade, as Saltz is quick to do), and Bosker also learned to appreciate art by developing the skill of looking closely herself and watching how fleetingly or deeply others interact with art through her work staffing art shows and at the Guggenheim (she certainly comes across as less jaded and more pure-intentioned than Patrick Bringley in his book about being a security offer at the Met, All the Beauty in the World: The Metropolitan Museum of Art and Me).

Overall, I found this book insightful and interesting.

My statistics:
Book 45 for 2025
Book 1971 cumulatively

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

"But what does it MEAN?!"

Perhaps--like me, like most of us--you don't consider yourself to be an art expert. You have a few favorite paintings, or maybe an artist or two that you know by name, but you really don't understand how to evaluate art. And the more non-representational the art becomes (i.e. the more abstract), the less confident you feel. Bianca Bosker approaches modern art in this spirit, immersing herself fully in the world of modern art in NYC (arguably THE hub for modern art, as she describes) in order to develop an appreciation for it. Is it really possible to learn to have an "eye"?

I love reading books about art because I so really do WANT to get art. I want to feel cultured and sophisticated. I want to be able to, at the very least, ask the right questions of a piece of art. Bosker is an excellent guide if you feel at all like I do. She takes us deep into the art world--first working for a gallerist (someone who displays and sells art), then for an artist, and finally as a security guard for a modern art museum. Each phase of her education is fascinating. She asks all the questions I want to ask--how do you know if an artist is any good? How can you tell what will sell? How much does context matter? (i.e. how much does the artist's reputation influence the value? how much of abstract art is valued because someone who matters says it is so? And who are the people whose voices matter in the modern art world?) Is it all just garbage that we're pretending has value? How do you distinguish between genius and insanity? What is the difference between performance art and influencer exhibitionism?

Bosker was never going to be able to definitively answer all of these questions, but I love that she tried. She pursued these questions from all angles, but none of these answers came easily. She had to earn and keep the trust of a few friends willing to let her behind the scenes. This is not easy because everyone in the art world seems to be protecting their own reputation. Bosker uncovers a certain amount of paranoia and obssession in most of her subjects, and she certainly questions the objective reality of "good modern art" at times. But somehow, along the way, she ends up developing her "eye" even as she doubts that such a thing can be taught or learned. Just sheer exposure to art, the ability to compare and contrast, seeing art in a variety of contexts (galleries, art fairs, collector's homes, and museums) allows her to be able to see how any given piece fits into the art world. She is certainly dedicated to the cause (and she hints at the level of insane dedication/self-loathing it takes for an aspiring artist or gallerist to get a foothold in this murky world.)

This has the feel of a reality TV show at times. Especially for a midwestern mom, I feel indebted to her for taking me where I could certainly never go on my own. I walked away with a better idea of how to approach art and how to listen to it. At the same time, I strongly suspect modern art to be much like the stock market, its value driven by tastemakers and other subjective factors unknown to me. Strangely, this book both confirmed my snarkiest suspicions about art, and elevated my most sincere hopes about art at the same time.

**Warning that there is some content. Art sometimes includes bizarre behavior.

[Madison · Rating 5 out of 5]

I wasn't sure what to expect walking into this, but I LOVED it. I got sucked in by all of the catty ridiculousness of the first few chapters, but stuck around through the slower parts because I felt my relationship to art changing. I love art museums--every vacation I've taken in the last few years have been museum-hopping expeditions--but I'm not someone who normally lingers with any one piece. I also had a very brief stint working at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, so I really enjoyed the chapters about the work she did as a guard at the Guggenheim.

The writing is light and funny, and her characterizations of the real, named people she works with are multifaceted and honest-feeling. I read this in, like, three sittings because I couldn't stop. I'm not big on nonfiction, but this one just really blew me away and was a LOT of fun to read. Since she did most of the work for this book in 2018-2019, I'm really curious about how the relentless enshittification of Instagram over the last few years has affected the art world (she makes a point to say how important some collectors/artists/curators find it), and I hope she continues to write about art in the post-COVID era.

[Sorin Hadârcă · Rating 5 out of 5]

That's one good writing. I like the Gonzo journalism attitude towards 'getting' the contemporary art from the perspective of people who usually don't. Myself, I get it half of the time. Maybe a quarter of the time.

Bianca Bosker takes you on a journey from gallery assistant, to assistant director, to a studio assistant and finally, a museum guard. It's supposed to be funny and very often it is.

But it also has depth. Along with tons of weird and interesting stuff, there's this idea that what we see is what we expect to see, a learned practice that tells us the sky is blue and no need looking up. Artists lift those expectations and let us see the world (and the sky in it) for what it is. Sometimes yellow. Turns out we need this. Apparently art does to our minds what dreams do: keep the world fluid so that we are ready for the unexpected.

So, I got a lot from reading it. My relationship with experiencing art has leveled up. I recommend it.

[John FitzGerald · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Beauty is the instant you sit up and start paying attention." Like when you notice a speeding bus bearing down on you? When someone takes out a gun? When a balloon pops in your face?

But that is Bosker's conclusion. I guess it's exciting for her but for me it was a letdown after going through her imaginatively compiled survey of the art world.

And it's yet another analysis of art that more or less ignores the visual features of visual art.

[Katherine B · Rating 5 out of 5]

I wish this book were twice as long! Listened to it in one day and seriously considering a reread. I discovered Bianca Bosker via an old podcast, discussing her previous book, which I also loved. To my luck, I learned Get the Picture was coming out soon. If you love art, NYC, and want a candid behind the scenes look, this book is for you!

[Rosie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Get the Picture is a super interesting and voyeuristic foray into the art world, from Brooklyn galleries and Miami art fairs to artist studios and art collector living rooms. Contemporary art can be easy to make fun of, and this book doesn't hold back when it comes to smirking at more "difficult" work (which makes for satisfying reading). It feels good to punch up, so to speak. I listened to the author-narrated audiobook, which was mostly fine but at times there was something about the tone of her voice I would describe as squeaky or high-pitched that felt very grating on my ears (especially in the morning). Bosker provides insights that aren't surprising if you're an artist or someone with some exposure to contemporary art, but overall, it's very well written. I think more reflection as to how the author infiltrated the rarefied art world so seamlessly would have added depth to the work. For example, when Bosker is following an art collector couple at an art fair, they confess that her presence as a journalist "covering" their collecting habits lends them beneficial cultural weight/air of importance, which in turn might increase their chances of landing better art acquisitions. This type of using, that is, using another human being for your own personal gain, is like the subtext to the whole book. It seems like in the art world, everyone is using everyone else for publicity, social contacts, cultural clout, to bolster their own sense of self. It is very exhausting. Leaving this mechanism mostly unspoken left a lot on the table, not to mention the fact that Bosker doesn't acknowledge how her own social markers (class, ability, gender, race) allowed her relatively easy access into this image conscious world. Exploring these facets would've said more about the deeper values of the art industry and individuals within it.

[Goatllama]

DNF. Skimmed through some, and read the final bit. Seemed to go in circles a bit, and at 384 pages that is nooot what I want, I am not here for it. That feels like way more space than needed.

As an artist, maybe I'm too close to the subject matter. Or maybe it's presumptuous and vain for me to think that that's what prevented me from enjoying this. But then again, vanity would seem to indicate that I truly am an artist. Circles circles circles.

This is very accurate: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...

[Katrina · Rating 3 out of 5]

There were a lot of unanswered questions (which may be part of the point). I enjoyed the sections that explored how to appreciate art, more than the sections about parts of her journey that were less enlightening.
It has inspired me to approach museums differently on my next visit.
Audio

[Joy · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love learning about something I know nothing about. Super accessible and so interesting

[Mai H.]

Non-fiction November TBR

📱 Thank you to NetGalley and Viking

[Maeve Daly · Rating 5 out of 5]

Holy shit, I devoured this and loved every step of the journey. What a revelation! I cannot wait to recommend this everyone I know. The author, Bianca, struggles with understanding what art is and wants to feel what she's "supposed to" when looking at pieces. Her journey takes her to working at elitist NYC galleries, for an artist, at the Guggenheim as security and with collectors. It's a fascinating study on the industry, as well as the financial vs talent aspects.

While I didn't believe that my job is unique in any way, it was so crazy to see the NYC version of myself on the page. I felt like the "Leo pointing at the tv" meme when Elizabeth was talking about the Miami financial breakdowns and her daily duties. I feel like I've met a version of every person in this book and Bianca's openness to try and understand them and not just consider them assholes with no work/life balance (as I do) was fascinating. It really is easy to be cynical in this industry and reading about this through fresh eyes was so insightful. And along the way, you learn to appreciate art.

[Kathy Helms · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thoroughly enjoyed this exploration of how and why we look at art. Bosker is a super fun writer and like her previous take on the world of wine (Cork Dork), she keeps you entertained while asking some thoughtful questions.

[Mary Rose · Rating 5 out of 5]

Marvelous