The Brooklyn Rail

I had the privilege of knowing Asher for over twenty years—as a friend, a supporter, and someone whose presence quietly shaped the trajectories of many artists, including my own.

Asher occupied a rare position in the arts ecosystem. He was not only a collector, but also a cultural producer, facilitator, and connector—someone who understood that the vitality of experimental practices depends as much on relationships as it does on ideas. His commitment was not performative; it was sustained, attentive, and deeply personal.

In his earlier years, through his gallery work, and later through Hyphen Hub, Asher created platforms that gave space to practices often operating outside conventional structures. He had a particular sensitivity toward intermedia, sound, and technologically driven work—fields that are not always easily supported, yet he engaged them with clarity and conviction.

What distinguished Asher was not simply that he supported artists, but how he did so. He listened. He paid attention. He followed processes over time. He believed in the work before it was recognized more broadly, and he acted on that belief—whether by collecting, organizing, or making introductions that would open new paths.

In my own case, his support was formative. He collected my work early on, introduced it to other collectors, galleries, and curators, and nominated it for projects internationally. These gestures were never transactional—they came from a place of genuine engagement and trust. He was someone I could count on, not only professionally, but as an artist navigating the uncertainties of a long-term practice.

Beyond the professional sphere, Asher was a deeply generous human being. Our relationship extended into shared meals, long conversations, and moments that had little to do with art, yet everything to do with friendship. He had a way of bringing people together—creating environments where exchange felt natural, where ideas could circulate without pressure.

His passing leaves a profound absence. Not only for those who knew him personally, but for a broader community that benefited from his presence, often in ways that may not have been immediately visible.

Asher’s life reminds us that the support structures around art are not abstract—they are built through individuals who choose to care, to engage, and to sustain others over time.

I will carry his friendship, his trust, and his generosity with me.

Richard Garet