{"@context":"http://iiif.io/api/presentation/3/context.json","id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/iiif/d21rf5nh0p/manifest","type":"Manifest","label":{"en":["Gold, Fay"]},"logo":"https://d9jk7wjtjpu5g.cloudfront.net/organizations/logo_images/000/000/082/original/TheBreman_SecondaryMark_Horizontal_Blue_Black.png?1713640889","metadata":[{"label":{"en":["Date"]},"value":{"en":["2005-07-09 (captured)"]}},{"label":{"en":["Agent"]},"value":{"en":["Pressman, Joan (Interviewee)","Gold, Fay (Interviewer)"]}},{"label":{"en":["Language"]},"value":{"en":["English (primary)"]}},{"label":{"en":["Format"]},"value":{"en":["Audio"]}},{"label":{"en":["Source"]},"value":{"en":["William Breman Jewish Heritage Museum","Esther and Herbert Taylor Jewish Oral History Collection","Jewish Oral History Project of Atlanta"]}},{"label":{"en":["Description"]},"value":{"en":["\u003cp\u003eFay Gold is interviewed by Joan Pressman in Atlanta, Georgia on July 9, 2005.\u003c/p\u003e (general)","\u003cp\u003eFay Saltzman Gold was born on April 8, 1932, in Greenville, South Carolina, the youngest of three children of George and Ethel Diamond Saltzman. Her father had found early success operating an apparel factory, but the Great Depression forced its closure shortly after Fay’s birth. The family then returned to New York, their original home, settling in Brooklyn’s Manhattan Beach neighborhood. There, Ethel supported the family by opening a beauty parlor. Fay enjoyed a happy, close-knit childhood, attending Temple Beth El and spending time with her extended family.\u003cbr\u003eAfter graduating from Abraham Lincoln High School, Fay studied drama and art at Adelphi College. In 1954, she married Donald David Gold (1926–2010), a World War II veteran who later co-founded Nantucket Industries, a lingerie manufacturing company, with his brother. As Fay raised their three young children, the family relocated in 1966 to Atlanta, near a new factory Donald had opened.\u003cbr\u003eIn Atlanta, Fay returned to her passion for art, working in a studio built in the backyard of their Buckhead home. The studio soon became known as Fay’s World, evolving into a thriving enterprise where she taught art to women and children. With the income from her classes, Fay began building a significant personal art collection.\u003cbr\u003eAfter more than a decade of operating Fay’s World from her home, Fay leased a commercial space for her classes. In 1980, she expanded further, opening the Fay Gold Gallery. As an art dealer and gallerist, Gold played a pivotal role in transforming Atlanta’s contemporary art scene. The gallery became especially known for its pop art exhibitions and for introducing the city to artists such as George Segal, Robert Rauschenberg, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and Keith Haring, while also championing emerging local artists.\u003cbr\u003eA dedicated philanthropist, Gold has raised substantial funds for organizations including Elton John’s AIDS Foundation, National Jewish Health, and the Fay Gold Respiratory Research Fund. She has served on numerous boards, including the Savannah College of Art and Design and the Louise Nevelson Foundation.\u003cbr\u003eGold closed the Fay Gold Gallery in 2009 and now operates Fay Gold Art Advisory Services alongside her eldest daughter, Ames Gold Fisher. She continues to collect art, pursue philanthropy, and maintain an active social life. Dividing her time among reading, cooking, and enjoying her four grandchildren, Gold is also writing her memoir, Basquiat’s Cat.\u003c/p\u003e (bioghist)","\u003cp\u003eFay recollects her childhood and family. She talks about going to college, marrying, starting a family and moving to Atlanta. Fay describes how her love of art developed and later led to her opening an art school. She explains how her art school evolved into a gallery. Fay recounts the opening of her gallery. She discusses how her gallery grew and developed into a successful business. Fay shares what role religion plays in her family’s life. She considers some of the cultural challenges she has encountered. Fay talks about her philanthropy and the opportunities she has had.\u003c/p\u003e (scope content)"]}},{"label":{"en":["Rights Statement"]},"value":{"en":["\u003cp\u003eAll rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, recorded by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written consent of the William Breman Jewish Heritage Museum.\u003c/p\u003e"]}}],"summary":{"en":["\u003cp\u003eFay Gold is interviewed by Joan Pressman in Atlanta, Georgia on July 9, 2005.\u003c/p\u003e","\u003cp\u003eFay Saltzman Gold was born on April 8, 1932, in Greenville, South Carolina, the youngest of three children of George and Ethel Diamond Saltzman. Her father had found early success operating an apparel factory, but the Great Depression forced its closure shortly after Fay\u0026rsquo;s birth. The family then returned to New York, their original home, settling in Brooklyn\u0026rsquo;s Manhattan Beach neighborhood. There, Ethel supported the family by opening a beauty parlor. Fay enjoyed a happy, close-knit childhood, attending Temple Beth El and spending time with her extended family.\u003cbr /\u003eAfter graduating from Abraham Lincoln High School, Fay studied drama and art at Adelphi College. In 1954, she married Donald David Gold (1926\u0026ndash;2010), a World War II veteran who later co-founded Nantucket Industries, a lingerie manufacturing company, with his brother. As Fay raised their three young children, the family relocated in 1966 to Atlanta, near a new factory Donald had opened.\u003cbr /\u003eIn Atlanta, Fay returned to her passion for art, working in a studio built in the backyard of their Buckhead home. The studio soon became known as Fay\u0026rsquo;s World, evolving into a thriving enterprise where she taught art to women and children. With the income from her classes, Fay began building a significant personal art collection.\u003cbr /\u003eAfter more than a decade of operating Fay\u0026rsquo;s World from her home, Fay leased a commercial space for her classes. In 1980, she expanded further, opening the Fay Gold Gallery. As an art dealer and gallerist, Gold played a pivotal role in transforming Atlanta\u0026rsquo;s contemporary art scene. The gallery became especially known for its pop art exhibitions and for introducing the city to artists such as George Segal, Robert Rauschenberg, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and Keith Haring, while also championing emerging local artists.\u003cbr /\u003eA dedicated philanthropist, Gold has raised substantial funds for organizations including Elton John\u0026rsquo;s AIDS Foundation, National Jewish Health, and the Fay Gold Respiratory Research Fund. She has served on numerous boards, including the Savannah College of Art and Design and the Louise Nevelson Foundation.\u003cbr /\u003eGold closed the Fay Gold Gallery in 2009 and now operates Fay Gold Art Advisory Services alongside her eldest daughter, Ames Gold Fisher. She continues to collect art, pursue philanthropy, and maintain an active social life. Dividing her time among reading, cooking, and enjoying her four grandchildren, Gold is also writing her memoir, Basquiat\u0026rsquo;s Cat.\u003c/p\u003e","\u003cp\u003eFay recollects her childhood and family. She talks about going to college, marrying, starting a family and moving to Atlanta. Fay describes how her love of art developed and later led to her opening an art school. She explains how her art school evolved into a gallery. Fay recounts the opening of her gallery. She discusses how her gallery grew and developed into a successful business. Fay shares what role religion plays in her family\u0026rsquo;s life. She considers some of the cultural challenges she has encountered. Fay talks about her philanthropy and the opportunities she has had.\u003c/p\u003e"]},"requiredStatement":{"label":{"en":["Attribution"]},"value":{"en":["\u003cp\u003eAll rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, recorded by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written consent of the William Breman Jewish Heritage Museum.\u003c/p\u003e"]}},"provider":[{"id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/aboutus","type":"Agent","label":{"en":["William Breman Jewish Heritage Museum"]},"homepage":[{"id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/","type":"Text","label":{"en":["William Breman Jewish Heritage Museum"]},"format":"text/html"}],"logo":[{"id":"https://d9jk7wjtjpu5g.cloudfront.net/organizations/logo_images/000/000/082/original/TheBreman_SecondaryMark_Horizontal_Blue_Black.png?1713640889","type":"Image"}]}],"thumbnail":[{"id":"https://d9jk7wjtjpu5g.cloudfront.net/public/images/audio-default.png","type":"Image","format":"image/png"}],"items":[{"id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503","type":"Canvas","label":{"en":["Media File 1 of 1 - Gold__Fay_Saltzman.mp3"]},"duration":2973.98857,"width":640,"height":360,"thumbnail":[{"id":"https://d9jk7wjtjpu5g.cloudfront.net/public/images/audio-default.png","type":"Image","format":"image/png"}],"items":[{"id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503/content/1","type":"AnnotationPage","items":[{"id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503/content/1/annotation/1","type":"Annotation","motivation":"painting","body":{"id":"https://aviary-p-thebreman.s3.wasabisys.com/collection_resource_files/resource_files/000/299/503/original/Gold__Fay_Saltzman.mp3?1767723262","type":"Audio","format":"audio/mpeg","duration":2973.98857,"width":640,"height":360},"target":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503","metadata":[]}]}],"annotations":[{"id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503/transcript/88087","type":"AnnotationPage","label":{"en":["Gold, Fay [Transcript]"]},"items":[{"id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503/transcript/88087/annotation/1","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"\u003cstrong\u003ePressman:\u003c/strong\u003e This is Joan Pressman interviewing Fay Gold, July 9, 2005, for the Jewish Oral History Project of Atlanta, co-sponsored by the William Bremen Jewish Heritage Museum, the American Jewish Committee, and the National Council of Jewish Women.","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503#t=4.0,28.0"},{"id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503/transcript/88087/annotation/2","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"\u003cstrong\u003eGold:\u003c/strong\u003e This is Fay Gold, telling you the story of my life. I was born and raised in Greenville, South Carolina on Spartanburg Road in the house by a midwife. My father had a major shirt factory there called Piedmont Shirt Company that manufactured women's shirts that were distributed all over the country. It was 1932 and the Depression came. We lasted another two and a half years there, when everything failed. So, we moved back to Brooklyn [New York City, New York]. I had an older brother and older sister. My brother stayed in the South with one of my aunts and uncles. My sister, who was 16, who is six years older than myself, moved back to New York. My brother was 16 years older than I was. That was due to the fact that my mother, eloped when she was 16 and my father was 21. They met at a wedding. They eloped from New York to Boston [Massachusetts]. At 17, my brother was born and I was born when my mother was 33. So, my brother Harvey stayed in Greenville and my sister Cyma and I moved to Brooklyn, where my folks had lived in a very large home because my father was enormously successful and was a kind of success story. He went to the sixth grade and then had to go out and sell newspapers. [He had a] large family in Brownsville [a neighborhood in the New York City borough of the Brooklyn], and he was the oldest of three brothers. He started with a cutting table at 21, brought his brothers in, and made huge success in the shirt business. And then, my fate, when I'm born, removed everything. [We] moved back to Brooklyn, a place called Manhattan Beach, and my mother, in a bungalow that we're living in, opened a beauty parlor on the front porch to support the family. My father was so depressed from this failure that he [could not] pull himself together. So, my mother had the same small motor skills that I have. We can chop, we can draw, we make things, we can cook, and we can do hair. She had the beauty parlor. I was basically the vagabond who was living in one neighbor's house or the other. I was blonde. I was cute. I could sing. I was starting to sing at the Hadassah meetings when I was seven years old. Then, I was on the [unintelligible] singing. I was just that cute little thing that everyone sort of wanted to have around. [Unintelligible] my mother. My sister, six years older, cooked, took care of me. My father got back on his feet eventually by about the time of World War II. Until that time, we lived in Gainesville, Florida. We lived in [unintelligible], various businesses, trying to get on our feet again. I never had all the lessons and private schools that my grandchildren had, or that my own children had. When I started first grade, I lived in [unintelligible], which is a hotel with a community kitchen. I had holes in my shoes and hand-me-down clothes but, you know, I didn't know about those things. They didn't seem to even mean anything to me because I had my mother who was so loving, and caring, and protective. One quick story, my sister whose last husband was a founder of Faberge [Cosmetics], who had homes in Europe, the Hamptons, and Manhattan townhouses. She and I used to watch the men playing poker, and we'd get them sandwiches, and we'd get them drinks, and they'd give us a nickel tip. At the end of their playing, we'd have a quarter and the knish man would come by with the big black leather bag on his back and we'd each have a knish for five cents each and have dinner. Now, of course, our lives have taken a very different turn, but I am thankful for that beginning because I think it motivates my working habits. I acknowledge that everything can be taken away from you, so you mustn't take anything for granted at any time. I grew up in Manhattan Beach in Brooklyn in a big Jewish neighborhood, went to the Reformed temple, Temple Beth El, heard Yiddish spoken in my house, and had many relatives in the Brownsville section of Brooklyn, who I visited, who used to make me my favorite cookies, and everything always smelled of chicken soup wherever I went. It was great growing up in Brooklyn. I continued singing. I continued drawing. I was always very talented, a Renaissance child. As it turns out, my sister's daughter [Loni Ackerman] was a lead on Broadway and was a lead in \"Cats.\" My sister turned out to be a Broadway producer, but it was my career that was supposed to be in the theater. Jumping ahead, right after I graduated Abraham Lincoln High School, I was offered a contract at the age of 17 because I'd made high school in three and a half years. So, I had a very high IQ. [I was offered] a contract with Louis Shurr, who was the agent for Judy Garland to Bing Crosby. I just walked in cold. He wanted me to study with Lee Strasberg, what you've heard of. I was signed up to go to Adelphi College in Garden City [New York]. I had been accepted at Cornell [University in Ithica, New York], but my father, being so conservative, wanted me close to home. It was my sister and father who said, \"No, she's got to go college.\" But that was the turning point of my life. Had I taken that contract, I would have gone in a very different direction. Yet, her [my sister's] own daughter never went to college and went into theater. But I'm grateful to have gotten my college degree. I majored in drama and was in all the plays and I minored in art. The first art project I did, I won first prize over all of the majors. I just seemed to have been blessed with a lot of talent. When I graduated college, I had wanted to become a TV producer. I met my husband, Donald. Actually, I dated his brother and his cousin first, and then they introduced me to Donald, the sweetest man I'd ever met in my life. A year after college, we got married at the Plaza Hotel in New York. It was quite lovely. We moved to Riverdale [a neighborhood in the New York City borough of the Bronx] and, jumping ahead, had three fabulous children. When the youngest child was one year old, and the next one was five, and the next one was nine, my husband's business, which was on 125th Street … He was a manufacturer of women's lingerie and men's fashion, underwear, and hosiery. He and his brother decided to move their factory to the South to avoid various labor problems in New York. In fact, it was on 126th Street in Harlem [a neighborhood in the New York City borough of Manhattan]. He went to Albany, Georgia, and took me down there, and said, \"This is where we're moving.\" He had bought a factory there. Both he and I agreed that, at that point, we couldn't raise our children in Albany because of the poor educational system. So, for a year he commuted and then, a year later, he said, \"We're buying a factory in Cartersville, Georgia, 37 miles from Atlanta, and we're going to Atlanta.\" So, at the age of 33, with a two-year-old, a six-year-old, and a ten-year-old, not knowing a soul, I moved to Atlanta, Georgia. Until that time, I had been studying with Vita Corido, a fabulous art teacher, for four years prior to moving to Atlanta, who was a protege of Hans Hoffman, who was the father of abstract expressionism. I had all the charts, and all of the projects, and all the paintings that I did with Vita Corido. She really taught me how to look at art and how to think about art. During that period as well, from my kitchen money I started buying Robert Rauschenberg prints and [Andy] Warhol prints. You know, you could get them for two, three hundred dollars at that time in the early 1960s. I also should mention that when I moved into my apartment, I didn't have a couch or any furniture. My sister was able to get me a [Pablo] Picasso. So, I had a Picasso and no furniture. I'm just giving you an idea of how important I feel art is to my spirit and to my soul. I just instinctively was drawn to it. Going back again to when I was 16, I stood in front of a Mark Rothko painting. It seemed greater than life, and overwhelming, and that experience stayed with me forever. I like very large paintings. I like to be overwhelmed by the whole environment and atmosphere of it. So, we moved to Atlanta, and I had been painting for four years with Vita. I needed a little studio to paint in. The house [was] near Chastain Park. It was chosen because it was near Dykes [Drive] and near the public school. I didn't know about private schools. My children went to public school in New York. My daughter skipped third grade. You know, my children were good students. I had this little studio built in the back yard and when the kids went to sleep, I would paint there. Then, someone in the neighborhood said, \"Would you teach my son to paint? He's eight years old, Dean Puller.\" I said, \"Well, I'm not a teacher.\" [They said,] \"Oh, please, please, we heard you're painting, and could you help him? He's so talented.\" Well, he was petrified and so was I. But I pulled out all my charts from my teacher, and I started with Dean. And, you know, I created Fay's World in the backyard, and I've been doing that ever since. I was so out of place in Atlanta. I so yearned to be back in the cultural mecca of New York with my family. I went to garden clubs, and I felt very out of the place. Even though I grew up being called a shiksa with my blonde hair and blue eyes, I suddenly had this very strong identity that I was Jewish, where in New York, you blend in because there's so many Jews you don't have to be singled out in the majority. In Atlanta, it was a very different experience. So, in my backyard, I was able to create Fay's World and blackout, put on blinders to everything that was around me that I didn't understand or felt uncomfortable. I even felt a little uncomfortable at the Standard Club. We were sponsored for membership and people said, \"Oh, did you spell your maiden name with a 'T' or without a 'T'? Because with a 'T' means you're Russian and without a 'T' meant you were German.\" I had never heard of that kind of thinking before. So, the Jewish people I met were so assimilated. Many of my friends belonged to the Piedmont Driving Club, and other places, where they assimilated sometimes for business and sometimes for different reasons. So, I'm in the backyard and within a year, I had 60 students. I had ten children every afternoon. I had two ladies classes, women I'm still close to, women who are still painting, children who have gone on to become professional artists, and my own three children. My ten-year-old daughter became the person who collected money and took attendance. My two small children had children in the backyard every afternoon to play with, or to come in and take an art class. The younger one was fantastically talented, you know. At five years old, won a contest at Rich's [Department store] out of 500 children because she painted our Yorkshire Terrier on top of a heart for Valentine's Day. My son is a fantastically talented architect who draws beautiful images in New York and my two daughters still work at the gallery. My oldest daughter is still my best friend. She's only 23 years younger than I am. She'll be 50 and it's nice. So, 40 years have gone by very quickly. From that art school, the women had never gone to New York. Most of them had never been to New York, no less to art galleries and to artists' homes. So, I started my first trip to New York. At this time, the money I'm making in the backyard, I'm buying art with. I always felt that whatever I made in art should go back to art and a little jewelry, because I do love jewelry—you know, something for myself, but not much. So, what I'm making in the backyard, which is $20,000 a year, I'm working 16, 18 hours a week, I'm a tax deduction. I have no overhead. The bathroom's in the house. My Yorkshire Terrier at that time, Treasure, chased everybody. He loved the art school. They were all used to it. He was covered in paint, and I was covered in pain every single day and I loved it. And the back door was covered in paint. The kids went to the bathroom in my kitchen. Many of the ladies are still, as I say, very close. So, I took them to New York. The first place I take them is George Segal, the great sculptor, to a chicken farm in New Jersey, to visit him. And this was all because I befriended a certain dealer in New York named Carroll Janis in the Sidney Janis Gallery, who was showing the pop artists. So, with the money from the backyard, I started buying [Claes] Oldenburg drawings for $350, [Tom] Wesselmann oils for $800, [Josef and Anni] Albers, you know, and I was meeting all of these artists as well. So, whenever I went up to New York, it was a treat of mine. So, I took the ladies to New York, everywhere. Then, I took another group of couples. And then people started asking me, \"You know, Fay, can you help us buy some art? You're buying all this art. Can you help us?\" Well, I'd never thought about that. But that was sort of the beginning of my becoming a dealer. In addition, the children are growing up now. I'm in a usual ranch house on Hollydale Court near Blanton Road with wainscot molding and long windows. I have no room to hang paintings. So, two of the children by this time are out. I have a 16-year-old. I start looking for a place with big walls and I found a place on Moores Mill [Road], these condominiums that a California architect built that were in bankruptcy had huge walls. We moved out of the house. But then I didn't have a place to teach, so I rented a store on Cain's Hill Place. I rented the front out to a framer named Meyer, a very young guy. He was starting out. He worked at the Frame Circus. All my students were bringing him their things to frame, and I said, \"You know, Meyer, you really should go into your own business.\" I had this little space in the front of the gallery, in front of the art school. So, I had the art school in the back. I rented the front to Meyer, and I rented a spot in the back to Ruth Zuckerman, a sculptor, so I had no rent. I was rent-free because, you know, I didn't know about overhead the way I know about it now, where I have an eight thousand square foot gallery, and seven employees, and the truck. So, I know all about overhead. Anyway, I'm teaching in the back, Meyer's in the front, and after two years, he moved around the corner to a larger place. I rented to a florist. That didn't work out. It was 1980. And I said, \"You know? Maybe I should open a little gallery in the front. Keep the art school in the back.\" And no one's really bringing contemporary art to the city. It's already 1980 and nobody was bringing … Oh, David Heath. I must say, Heath Gallery was doing a … you now, bringing in, but he kind of had his own set group of artists and his own following, not the artists from the pop art that I wanted to bring in. So, in this 24-by-24 square foot space, I borrowed $20,000 from my husband, which he hasn't let me forget, and renovated the whole thing, and opened the gallery. We had a little teeny office. Our desks were made of file cabinets with a piece of Formica [laminated wood] on top. The art school [was] in the back. I would either run up front if someone walked in, take off my robe, or put my robe back on, and go back and teach. The gallery opened with a George Segal sculpture show. The second show was Irving Penn, a photography show, followed by Rauschenberg and Alex Katz. I didn't know about local artists. Then, designers started coming in with pink and green swatches, wanting things in lower price ranges to match their decorating scheme. I didn't have that. I didn't know about local artists. I was kind of, you know, Mrs. Gold, who taught art in the backyard. No one really took me very seriously. I started having Mondays where artists could bring work to me. I didn't believe in looking at slides. I wanted to see work. I would schedule them every 15 minutes. Mondays were packed. From that, I started to pick regional artists, local artists that I liked, and that I could sell at a different price range, and that weren't as heavy and serious as the things I was showing. I didn't stop showing the other things. I just needed more variety. I actually still have one artist [Unintelligible], and another, Robert Jessup from 1980, that is still with me. We'll have our 25th anniversary, in fact, this October 1980 to 2005. Time goes fast when you're having fun and I do consider it fun, even though the arrows are shot at me about every 20 minutes. I have excruciating problems. I'm pretty good at solving them now, although we're all vulnerable. You never know when one of those arrows will really pierce you, when you least expect it. You get very hurt in any business, but again, that's part of getting tougher and trying to avoid that as much as possible. So, I opened my gallery. It took three years for it to show a profit. When it showed a profit after three years, I closed the art school, because I needed that space now for inventory. After a while, the gallery itself became too small, and Gooch Movers was beneath me. When they moved, I took over their space and had a staircase go down to the downstairs. Their space had high ceilings. One third at a time, I sheet rocked it, because I couldn't afford to do it all at one time. That was a glorious space, even though you had to walk downstairs to it. I did every major artist you can think of from Cindy Sherman to Frank Stella to Tom Wesselmann. I represented [Henry] Callahan. I did every photo show that you could ever dream of. If only I had bought all of that stuff and I bought a fair amount of it. If only [I bought] every one. At the Jean-Michel Basquiat show, where the drawings were $3,500 each, I sold two and one I insisted my daughter buy. When she got married, I sold it for $60,000. She furnished her home. That same drawing now is worth $150,000 to $200,000. So, unfortunately, for the Basquiat painting, which I'll tell you about … Actually, I should tell you now because it was 1982 and it was my 50th birthday. I wanted a bracelet. So, my husband generously gave me $5,000. Before I went to New York, I had a very famous dealer named Holly Solomon do a group show. She was sitting in my kitchen. I said, \"I'm going to New York tomorrow. What should I see?\" She named three artists I'd never heard of. One was Jean-Michel Basquiat, one was Keith Haring, and one was Eric Fischl. So, I went to New York armed with my $5,000. Before I went to 47th Street, I went to the Jean-Michel Basquiat show, and I so fell in love with a 10-foot painting. It was $5,200. I called Donald, my husband, I said, \"You know, I think I want this painting instead of the bracelet, and I'll pay the $200 extra.\" I bought this painting, which I sold about three years ago for an extraordinary amount of money. In the last Christie's auction, my painting was up for two and a half to three million, and I thought I had gotten an extraordinary amount of money for it. It was called in. It didn't sell at that price, but I'm sure they settled on something close to that. So, I just mentioned prices on that and how incredible all my art investments were without even … I never had a plan. When I bought all the pop art, I bought it because it was wonderful, it was energy, excitement. It was alive. It made me feel alive. Not that I didn't feel alive, but it just added that much more to my life. I had no idea that these things would be the things that would finance the building of the gallery. Because, you know, one gallery cost $360 to build out, one cost $450,000 to build that, and so on. My husband has never given me another penny since that initial loan, which he has been paid back. I promise you he's been paid for that initial loan. So, without any real plan, because basically I always wanted to be in the theater, I have made a gallery into theater. I'm the director. Sometimes I'm the star. I have my cast that changes each month, my artists. I have sets, which are my different paintings, or sculptures of glass, or installations that change every month. I have invitations, my openings every month, and so I'm not that far away from a different kind of theater. It all ties into what I really love, which is performance. That acting ability has certainly helped me—not in an insincere way—to become a better saleswoman because I truly believe in what I sell, but my acting ability might enhance my enthusiasm because I speak in a more emotional way. So, the gallery opened in 1980, and I stood at the door with my best friend, Artie Mackelberg, and he held my hand. I had 25 bouquets. I had the most amazing press, because Cohn and Wolfe, the major PR [public relations] company at that time, did an exchange for one year of art for their offices for PR. I had a full-page, double-page story, \"Fay Gold's Dream Comes True,\" because Cohn and Wolfe was sending out PR packets with black and white photographs and cut lines, and the newspapers had never had such a thing from a gallery. So, I hit in a very professional way. Bob Cohn is still a dear friend, helped me tremendously. I still use that same format 25 years later. I learned so much from him in that first year about PR that we've never ever had to have another PR person for the next 24 years. I do it myself with my staff, and the information gets out. So, that opening was fabulous. It changed my life on the spot, because I knew that I had arrived at something, unexpectedly, that could be very fulfilling. You have to realize, too, that I didn't even start on my career until I was 40. You know, it's not … I was child rearing for 15 years and teaching in the backyard, but then taking on an art gallery, more of a full-time job. Fortunately, by this time my children were grown, and I started having lots of fun. So, here I had this gallery, and I started meeting all the great artists and the dealers. They all kept coming to Atlanta and I've learned how to really grow as a person. I knew nothing about business. I knew you were absent or present. You paid or you didn't. I never took a business course, and I had to really learn the hard way. I have paid my dues, learning about business the hard way, but now I am sharp as a tack. I can stand up without emotion like it's any man. Because I used to get emotional, I used to get angry, take things personally. I would get upset at my staff. I don't believe in stress. I don't care if you're the toughest and you want to beat me to death over a price, or you can take a project that I create and then steal it from me, or you could be an artist that I take from nowhere and make them rich, and then they leave me for a New York gallery. When I think of them as one of my children, I can go on and on as to the things I've been tested with, but I'm still here and I'm still loving what I do, but most of all, I'm loving Atlanta. It took me ten years. I have wonderful, loving friends here that care about my husband and I, and I care about them. I have the most fabulous extended family of artists who depend on me for their living, who care about me, and I care about them as a friend of theirs as well. I have my religion. I had my son bar mitzvahed at Solomon's Wall in Israel. My mother was alive at that time, and we went with the children. It was a transitional period at Temple Sinai when we didn't have a temple. We were meeting in a church, so we didn't have a true edifice, but that wasn't the only feeling. I, at that time, thought the big bar mitzvah parties were barbaric, you know, out of style. Of course, I've changed my mind since. It was a great trip for the family and for all of us, but I did rob my son of a bar mitzvah because you're by the wall and you're not allowed to touch anybody because it's so Orthodox. You can't even shake the rabbi's hand. My son was whisked away, and he didn't even say his Haftarah. You know, he went on to be valedictorian at Westminster, and went to Princeton [University in Princeton, New Jersey] and Columbia [University in New York City, New York]. [He was a] smart boy, but he was whisked away, and afterwards, we put out some bread, cake, and wine, and the beggars come and eat that, which is a mitzvah and very nice, but I missed being with my family and friends. I think my advice is you have your bar mitzvah here, and then you take your trip, and you have it symbolically, because that's all it is. The wall is a symbol. You have it symbolically in Israel and you can celebrate it one more time. Nevertheless, we did do that, and it was a great experience. My son, of my three children, still lights candles on Friday night and, you know, doesn't eat matzah and bread. In fact, when he was at Westminster, he always brought matzah during the holidays and when he was valedictorian, he did a prayer in Hebrew. So, he has a very strong identity. My youngest daughter married eight and a half months ago. Her husband is an ER [emergency room] pediatric surgeon. His parents met in a concentration camp during the Holocaust, in [Auschwitz-Birkenau], and then they were separated. They both survived and he found her back in her village, and they married and immigrated to Texas. So, he has a very strong Judaic background, which I'm very proud of. My granddaughter in Atlanta was bat mitzvahed last year and my grandson in New York will be bar mitzvahed [unintelligible]. So, we have our Jewish ties. I have all my mother's recipes [for] gefilte fish, tzimmes, cabbage, and [unintelligible]. So, all of us are still making my mother's recipes, because food is love and [unintelligible]. So, that's kind of my life so far. I have this fabulous space that I've been in for five years. I have five more years left on my lease. I'm 73. We'll see at the end of five years what I continue to do. My husband's been retired for several years now, so I'm the working part of the family and he's doing more of the domestic things, which is quite a switch because he owned a public company. We never lived far from that for 40 years because he was always traveling or inspecting. He's changed roles and it works out very well. I had my 50th anniversary last year and my children gave me a Yorkshire Terrier, because my other dog lived 19 years. Even though he's been gone for 14 years, they knew how much I loved him, and so they gave me … They gave Don and I … And we named him Murray and he's just the love of my life. He's smart and wonderful, adorable. I feel very blessed and very fortunate.","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503#t=28.0,2223.0"},{"id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503/transcript/88087/annotation/3","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"\u003cstrong\u003ePressman:\u003c/strong\u003e I would like to ask you a question. When you talked about some of the paintings you have sold or some of your students asked you to help them purchase, because of your love of so much of the art, how do you feel when you part with one, when you sell it, even if it turns out to be a wonderful sale?","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503#t=2223.0,2241.0"},{"id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503/transcript/88087/annotation/4","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"\u003cstrong\u003eGold:\u003c/strong\u003e Well, you know, when you live with something for 20 years and it's a possession and you sell it because you can't resist the price and you want other things. So, when I sell something, yes, I miss it and I say, \"Oh, that's my painting,\" but it's not my painting anymore. There's so many other fabulous things that I want that it's really nice to change things out, buy something else, and have that capital to work with, and reinvest it in other things.","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503#t=2241.0,2287.0"},{"id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503/transcript/88087/annotation/5","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"\u003cstrong\u003ePressman:\u003c/strong\u003e When you were starting out in Georgia with the gallery and with the school, how did you find your acceptance in Georgia, in Atlanta, as a female in the art world, or as a Jew? Did any of that make a difference, or is the fact that basically artists are so much more open-minded than some people?","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503#t=2287.0,2308.0"},{"id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503/transcript/88087/annotation/6","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"\u003cstrong\u003eGold:\u003c/strong\u003e Well, being a female is actually an asset. There are so many successful female entrepreneurs. You need just to have the talent, and the intelligence for it, and be able to deal with people. So, that didn't bother me except when it came to running that business against very tough professional men. But I think I have enough leadership. I'm a member of the International Women's Forum and I've traveled around the world going to their meetings. I've been exposed to the most remarkable female leaders around the world, who own the most amazing businesses or CEOs, and are accomplished so much as political leaders that I'm humbled that I could even be in the same room with them. My admiration for women is so tremendous. I'm very proud to be a woman, and I don't find that a problem. I find that an asset. As far as being Jewish in Atlanta, I have so many non-Jewish friends. And I think that that's changed a lot, as far as acceptance. You're more or less accepted for who you are and if people are comfortable with you. There are people who carry prejudices, but there are Jews who carry enormous prejudices against black people, particularly the Jewish people I know who were born and raised in the South. They still makes disparaging remarks, which they are not allowed to make around me. They'll make a remark about, you know, this unbelievable home that has two Rolls Royces and so on in the garage, and it turns out it's a black ball player. I say to them, \"He's a very talented man. Can you play ball like he can? Can you score, you know, 40 points in a game?\" So, they don't like my defensiveness. But I also, last year, was a member of the class of Leadership Atlanta. I'm pretty sure I might have been the oldest member they ever had. But that, too, took me out of my comfort zone when we learned about the Westside, when we had a series on racism, where I really befriended the most remarkable African American people, who are still my close friends. So, I thought I didn't have much prejudice, but that year really showed me that I did have some and showed me how I could relieve myself of that. So, you know, I don't get into politics too much because I'm a Democrat and I'm not happy with the situation in Washington [D.C.]. But I don't really get into it with friends. Most of my closest friends are Democrats, that I'm comfortable with. As far as religion, that's their problem. I'm fine with who I am. I've been to many places where Donald and I are the only Jewish people there. It's who I am. If you don't like it, don't talk to me. If I don't you, I don't care what your religion is, I won't talk to you. There are so many good and nice and wonderful people in this world. You don't need a lot of people around you. You just limit yourself to who you care about.","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503#t=2308.0,2565.0"},{"id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503/transcript/88087/annotation/7","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"\u003cstrong\u003ePressman:\u003c/strong\u003e I am going to turn this off for a minute. [This is the] Joan Pressman interview with Fay Gold on behalf of the Breman.","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503#t=2565.0,2579.0"},{"id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503/transcript/88087/annotation/8","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"\u003cstrong\u003eGold:\u003c/strong\u003e Well, it's very nice as you're plodding along and working along, to suddenly be recognized. Two awards that I'm very proud of are, one, the Big Thinker Award from the [Brain Injury Association of Georgia]. Actually, I was given the first award, and they had various people come and talk about me. One was John Wieland of Wieland Homes, my son, the artist I represented at the time, Radcliffe Bailey. And very nice things were said. It seemed surreal. Like, \"Hey, are you talking about me?\" I've never really taken myself too seriously because basically I was insecure and searching for financial security and emotional security, so don't take me too seriously. But that was a great honor. Then, the Israel Bonds group gave me an award that took place at Saks Fifth Avenue. A large bunch of 200 women were there—all my Gentile [non-Jewish] friends, Jewish friends—and I gave a talk as well, and it was very thrilling. Then, I was on the first issue, on the cover of \"Jewish Life.\" They did a great story in 1985, along with [Unintelligible], and Robert Shaw, and the head of the NAACP, and myself. There was a story called \"Five Who Have Shaped Atlanta,\" and I was one of those five in 1985. That was so amazing to me because I've never really had a plan. I've never had goals. I've only walked through doors when they opened for me. I'm basically an opportunist and look at each day is a blank page. Whatever is written there, I try to make the best of. So, I've just been swept along by the opportunities that have come my way, that I've believed in, and that I have gambled on. I'm a huge risk taker. You have to be, because you're dealing in art. That's not a roof over your head, it's not a car, it is not something that you're going to wear on your back. It's some obtuse, esoteric, abstract idea—art—and bought for many different reasons, for decoration, or \"I can't live without it,\" or \"I want to shock everybody.\" [There are] so many different reasons for buying art that I've become, in a sense, an art therapist. You can take a couple and put them in front of the painting, and unbeknownst to them, after they've conversed for about 10-15 minutes, I can tell who controls the money, who makes the decisions, who has a feeling for art, who wants to please who, what they like, what they don't like. All of these things they reveal in their conversation help me lead them to the right piece of art for them. Art has no rules, and it's not a necessity except when you make it a necessity. That's what makes it so challenging to try to sell something that is functional yet non-functional, beautiful, political, and controversial, or just something that you put on your wall and once you see it once, you pass it and never see it again. Well, I try to avoid having that kind of art in my gallery. I want it to be a lasting experience. I want it to ask questions that are never answered. I want people who come in the house to respond with their own set of experiences to what they see. Working with Elton John has always been a great privilege. He was buying photography and art from me long before it became public knowledge that he was collecting the amount of art he ended up collecting. So, for about three years, I kind of felt I had him to myself in Atlanta, and it was a great privilege. Then, I proposed the idea of doing an art auction, which he loved. The entire thing was organized right from my gallery. I never had a committee except my staff. And between two art auctions, one year and a year following, we netted $700,000 for the AIDS Foundation. Elton stood there with his arm around me, and I brought in an auctioneer from Sotheby's, and we had Versace models modeling clothes, and men modeling bathing suits, and we all mediums from glass to paintings to photography, and it was a great highlight of my life. I went to two of his Oscar parties in [Los Angeles, California]. When he won his Oscar for \"The Lion King,\" he actually let me hold it. It's very heavy. So, he's a very good friend. [It is] because he loves Atlanta, and that I'm in Atlanta, and he loves art that I had a chance to become a friend of one of the world's greatest celebrities.","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503#t=2579.0,2969.0"},{"id":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503/transcript/88087/annotation/9","type":"Annotation","motivation":"transcribing","body":{"type":"TextualBody","value":"\u003cstrong\u003ePressman:\u003c/strong\u003e You certainly have put a stamp on Atlanta.","format":"text/plain"},"target":"https://thebreman.aviaryplatform.com/collections/994/collection_resources/164528/file/299503#t=2969.0,2973.0"}]}]}]}