A Day in New York City With RAY’s Programming and Partnerships Director, Anaïs Cooper-Hackman
Anais at home by Pony Fotos.
Anaïs Cooper-Hackman is the Programming and Partnerships Director at RAY. Prior to joining the company, Cooper-Hackman worked as the Associate Director of HOT•BED, an art gallery, event venue, and artist studios in Philadelphia. At HOT•BED, she developed a concept called MICRO•GALLERY, a no-limits playground for guest curators and artists to produce and exhibit unconventional, immersive work.
At RAY, Anaïs manages partnerships; oversees public relations; produces resident-facing and public programming; and engages in extensive research to ensure each location speaks sincerely to the local community. She graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in Media Studies and Production from Temple University. Outside of RAY, Cooper-Hackman is a cacao ceremonialist, independent curator, and performance artist. You can find her on Instagram at @on_uh_ees, RAY on Instagram at @rayisaplace, and Studio 105 at Ray Philly at @studio105atray.
Anais at home by Pony Fotos.
7:15am: Every morning I wake up with a song in my head. I’ll listen to whatever it is as I get out of bed and then I listen to music, or podcasts all day; shout out Berlant & Novak. Today it’s "Hit My Head All Day" by Dry Cleaning. Ben Anderson, the Program Manager at SCF, put me on to them. Ben and I recently met through a seven-week artist residency at Salmon Creek Farm in Albion, California, which I returned from in mid-October. While I was away, the leaves changed and New York transitioned from summer into fall.
I guess the milk to water ratio on my instant matcha latte, as the instructions are in Japanese, and write down my dreams from the night before. I have over 300 fragments collected from the past five years or so. Most of them I’ve never gone back to read, but I record them because writing down your dreams helps you remember them more easily. During the residency, I thought I might work on writing guided meditations, or turning the dream material into a one-woman show, but I ended up making performance art instead. The bountiful stars, towering redwoods, crashing waves, and dazzling company of the other artists was more compelling than dreamworld. A first. I splash water on my face, a bit of mascara, and throw on an outfit for the office: my favorite jeans that are high waist and wide leg, a button down I thrifted back home in Philly, and leather mary janes from John Fleuvog. Before I leave, I put on a chunky scarf I got on SSENSE last year before the tariffs ruined everything, and my alpaca fingerless gloves an ex got me in Peru. Shades and headphones on and I’m out the door.
8:40am: I listen to “Julie Profumo” by The Cleaners From Venus on repeat all the way to work. My lease on a sunny spot in the East Village doesn’t start until December 1st, so I’m staying at my best friend’s apartment in Chinatown while she’s in Japan. Our office is in SoHo, so my current commute to work is short and eventful. I cut through Columbus Park and see the ladies doing Qi Gong. I am fascinated by the movements, and have a practice of my own that I picked up on YouTube during the pandemic.
The commute to work by Pony Fotos
I walk down Canal Street most of the way, dodging other commuters and overlit souvenir shops with their metal grates going up, and “I love NY” everything rolled out on the sidewalk. I love the way the cobblestone streets of SoHo make you pay attention to where you’re walking. On my way in, I check Instagram DMs and emails from my phone to get a jump on the day. It’s going to be a busy one, since our first ever design collaboration is launching tonight at Quarters, the In Common With showroom in Tribeca! For weeks, the team and I have been working on a partnership with the lighting company. Their collaboration with Sophie Lou Jacobsen, photographed at a 12th-century Austrian castle called Schloss Hollenegg a couple years ago, lives rent free in my head. From lasers at the Justice concert a couple weeks ago to candle lit cocktails at Bar Oliver, lighting is something I’m particularly attuned to. We commissioned the artist Dylan Rose Rheingold to paint directly on a series of seven In Common With light fixtures, with proceeds from each sale benefitting the Ali Fornay Center. It is such a dreamy collaboration, I can hardly believe how organic the connection has been.
11:45am: We recently moved our offices from the Seagram building in Midtown, to a loft in SoHo. I forgot my key card but the door man lets me up. I’m the first one in, so I hang my coat and scarf before popping on the lights.
Through meetings by Pony Fotos.
I check GCal and see I’ve got meetings at 9:15, 10:30, 11, 1, 2, and 3:30. The date: November 20, 2025. I’m reminded of the Death Doula training I was supposed to attend last weekend, at Sacred Crossings Institute in LA. I moved my enrollment to the February 2026 session instead, when this busy season ebbs. I’ve been interested in death and grief work for the past couple of years, attending seminars and completing hospice volunteer training in my free time. It’s even influenced my art practice—one of my recent projects involved sewing epitaphs out of fern leaves. It’s a part of life we could all stand to be better prepared for.
My meetings today offer a peek into the wide reaches of my role: an internal asset management update, a coordination call with our Philly site team on holiday events for residents, a check-in with our development partners on marketing strategy for the forthcoming Ray Phoenix opening, a touchbase with our contact at the Ali Fornay Center about the event this evening. Gabby Pedro, our Brand and Social Media Manager at RAY, and I usually meet at 4:30pm on Thursdays, but we decided to meet first thing today instead so that we can get to Quarters by 5pm.
I work on compiling an inventory of amenity art options for Phoenix in between meetings and think about what I’ll wear to the launch later this evening — I’m between two options from Batsheva. At 4pm, I put on “Invasion” by Atmosfear and rush home to change.
8:22pm: After breezing up to the second floor at 383 Broadway and checking my coat, I run into Jeff Rubio and Elizabeth Bergeland in the living room. Jeff and Liz are two of my closest friends, and both happen to be artists I’ve had the opportunity to collaborate with on exhibitions in the past — Rubio most recently at Paradigm Gallery in summer 2024 and Bergeland at our very own Studio 105 at Ray Philly this past summer. We embrace and share an intimate laugh about the strange similarities Quarters has with the gallery I used to manage back in Philly, namely the second floor staircase; all at once deeply familiar and shockingly new.
Dylan Rose Rheingold with Garden Talk, in front of Fishing, also by Rheingold. Photo by Pony Fotos.
I spend the evening flowing from one conversation to the next, there are so many special faces in the room. Quarters is staged like the townhome of my dreams with chic, comfy sofas and low lighting in every room, so the event has the intimacy of a house party. Seeing everyone simultaneously reminds me how many hands it takes. Connecting authentically with people is important to me and so when that manifests I feel profound gratitude. By 9:15pm, a few of us are headed to Walker’s for burgers.
11:45pm: I pick up the tab at Walker’s and walk home. I drag myself up the many stairs to my sixth floor walk-up, take a quick shower, and put on my favorite striped pajamas. I pack a light bag for the weekend — I’ll get a train from Moynihan first thing tomorrow and stay with friends when I get to Philly. We have an opening tomorrow night at our exhibition space, Studio 105 at Ray Philly. It’s a two person show: Jeanne Blissett-Robertson and Julia Policastro: Visions of an Inbetween. The artists created a collaborative artwork specifically for the exhibition that I have yet to see in person!
Transitioning from the DIY gallery scene in Philly to New York City real estate development three-and-a-half years ago has been such a massive growth opportunity, and an exciting chance to be the voice in the room advocating for art and artists. I get into bed and draft an email in my head to Dylan, thanking her for her partnership and proposing she lead artmaking workshops for residents at Ray Harlem. Phone down and I wonder what dreamworld has in store before quickly falling asleep.
This piece has been edited and condensed for clarity.