Jenna's Journey

What began as a whisper of curiosity for me in 1996 became a calling in 2020. When I first encountered the story of Exhibition by 31 Women, Peggy Guggenheim’s groundbreaking 1943 show at her Art of This Century gallery in her autobiography Out of this Century: Confessions of An Art Addict, I felt something stir—an urgency to listen more closely to these voices from the past. This wasn’t just an art historical footnote; the memoir was a female manifesto, a beacon, a challenge by Peggy daring the world to see a woman as a living, breathing human being.

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Driven by admiration, reverence, and no small amount of ambition, I embarked on a journey to collect works by the very same 31 artists Guggenheim had once assembled—different pieces by different women from a list made over 80 years ago. What resulted is The 31 Women Collection, a reimagining and homage that not only reflects these remarkable artists' legacies, but also asserts their relevance today.

Each acquisition was a revelation. Some pieces found me as if drawn by fate, while others required persistence, research, and negotiation. I spoke to descendants, scoured archives, and walked into quiet corners of galleries and storerooms, always listening for the pulse of each artist’s heart.

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The emotional landscape of this journey was vast. There were moments of elation—finding a rare Leonor Fini, uncovering an overlooked gem by Julia Thecla, or standing before a work by Frida Kahlo that seemed to look straight at me but could not be attained. There were moments of doubt, too—wondering if I could ever gather them all together again, what the hell I would do with all the art once it began piling up, and later, whether or not the world would care.

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But it did. As the collection began to take form, so did its recognition. The international press, from The New York Times and Vogue to Forbes and beyond, acknowledged the significance of this endeavor—not just as an act of collecting, but as a form of cultural restoration. These artists, many of whom were sidelined in their time, were being seen again—through a woman’s eyes, curated with love, rigor, and a deep sense of justice.

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The New York Times praised the collection for "rekindling the radical spirit of Guggenheim’s vision in a modern age increasingly attuned to inclusion." Vogue celebrated the effort as “a poetic resurrection, balancing scholarship with instinct.”  Forbes described it as “a masterclass in purpose-driven collecting—a rare alignment of passion and cultural legacy.”

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For me, though, the truest reward is quieter: standing before these works and feeling the presence of each artist, as vital now as she was then. This collection isn’t just a tribute—it’s a conversation across time. It’s a declaration that these women mattered, and still do, and that the world is finally listening. While the 31 Women are no longer alive to see their growing acclaim, deep down I know they're smiling and I'm filled with deep gratitude for having found them.