East Hampton - Gallery Valentine offers that immediate impression of affluence. The sheen of hardwood pine floors, the echoing clack of high heels reverberating against crisp white walls. Not to mention the Picasso mounted opposite the entrance, garish neon colors on a black backdrop beaming art historical prowess. And the pair of De Kooning paintings, small scale oils on canvas. And the Kenneth Noland target, his last before the onset of the new millennium. Then there's the Haring, the Warhol, the Rauschenberg. The John Chamberlain sculptures, scattered casually about the space, jutting from the floor like rainbow-dyed stalagmites. Gagosian just snagged global representation of John Chamberlain's works. One of his pieces, "Nutcraacker" (1958), broke a $4.7 million dollar ceiling at a Sotheby's auction in May. No big deal. This is East Hampton, right?

Gallery owner Ryan Ross seems equally nonplussed. Standing in cool opposition to the bombastic collection of master works that surround him on a daily basis, he is the polo-shirt-wearing purveyor of hundreds of millions of dollars of capital "A" Art. He opened Gallery Valentine on Memorial Day weekend - a sister venture to a corresponding gallery in Palm Beach. This past Saturday, July 2, patrons and pedestrians enjoyed an opening reception in conjunction with Nick Korniloff from ArtMiami. And it wasn't until the end of the interview that he told me his co-partner was Tommy Mottola.

"Do you know who that is?" he asked, without the slightest susceptible trace of pretense.

I know who he is. I'm more of a Mariah Carey fan than I should admit in polite society, probably more so than is emotionally healthy for a 22-year old male. Under the shadow of the Frankenthaler in the corner, I thought it best to keep this sentiment to myself.


Ross has been an art dealer for over 15 years, and he recounted his career trajectory with the same friendly, casual air that pervaded all aspects of our interaction. An art history major in college, he studied in Florence and immersed himself in the works of the Renaissance. He is well versed in classic American and European painting, and with Gallery Valentine, he is following the art establishment caravan of increased interest in post-war, mid-century modernists.

When it comes to choosing new works, Ross tends to trust his immediate, kinesthetic reaction to a particular piece, and never underestimates the significance of market trends - "you have to put everything into a context," he said.

Like the De Kooning on the left wall – "Two Women" (1963). Knee deep into his preoccupation with the female form, the local abstract expressionist scrawled and scratched the biomorphic figures, complete with all the vehemence and unabashed gesture that garnered him accusations of misogyny a little over a decade prior. The work epitomizes De Kooning's visual language, and one can appreciate the artist's evolution from cubist to figurative abstraction, with just a slight turn of the head – his painting, "The Stenographer" (1948) is mounted on the next wall.

"As a kid, I would split my time between Yankee stadium and the Met," Ross admitted, unknowingly revealing the secret of his success - that perfect balance between scholar and salesperson, art acolyte and sports fan. An accessibility that toes the line of dude-ness, undoubtedly putting media moguls with exorbitant amounts of disposable income at ease as they slip out their checkbooks. There's no fuss here – the maudlin can check their egos at the door, preferably before the Sam Francis splotch. I was waiting for the Mel Bochner "Blah Blah Blah" (2010) to lift into the ceiling, revealing a big-screen broadcast of the Subway Series behind it, along with a chilled bucket of Coors Light.