Chelsea Hotel Artist Staring Down Eviction

Gerald Decock has lived at the hotel for 32 years. This may be his final one.

By Audrey Hill

Stepping into Gerald Decock’s apartment is like stepping into one of his psychedelia-inspired paintings — every surface bursts and shimmers in vibrant color, from the floors to his entirely pink ceiling. Decock is one of the last artists residing in the iconic Chelsea Hotel, which now functions mainly as a luxury hotel. But after a years-long legal battle, he is probably going to have to leave.

While the few other artists who still live at the hotel were able to secure rent stabilization, Decock, represented by the same lawyer as many of his peers, said he feels like he’s slipped through the cracks. Decock said he’s paid his rent on time throughout his 32-year tenure there, scraping together $2,700 through painting sales and cutting hair. He believes the owners want to strip his apartment clean of its character and lease it at market rate. Rooms at the Chelsea now start at around $650 per night.

His legal troubles began in 2007, and have continued for almost two decades through multiple lawyers, several different owners of the Chelsea and many levels of the court system.

As of this writing, Decock is trying to appeal an eviction order giving him until Sept. 30 to leave his home. It’s scary, but in some ways, he’s used to it. “More than half of the time that I’ve lived here, I have had this hanging over my head,” he said. “I’m in limbo constantly. I never really feel 100% secure.”

Decock is far from the only tenant that the Chelsea has tried to evict. Kennan McClung grew up going to the hotel, where his artist grandparents lived. After taking over their apartment in 2023, the Chelsea also tried to force him to leave. Luckily, he was able to get a lawyer friend involved and the Chelsea left him to his rent-stabilized apartment. McClung, who doesn’t work in an artistic field, said he makes bad music to “try to keep the [Chelsea’s] soul alive.”

Gaining Traction on Social Media

Earlier this year, with the assistance of various friends in the art world, Decock took to social media to share his story. Sitting with his legs crossed on a chair in the middle of his apartment, Decock tells the camera that he is one of the last artists living in the Chelsea Hotel, and that they are trying to evict him. He then leads the audience through the halls of the building to see some of the 21 paintings purchased by the hotel right before they renewed their efforts to kick him out – a move he cast as blatantly cruel.

The message, which feels like a transmission from a bygone era of New York, evidently resonated, garnering more than 2 million views. Decock has since amassed more than 32,000 followers on Instagram.

The indignation inspired by his story frequently spills into the comments of the Chelsea Hotel Instagram account, which often posts images of former famous residents of the hotel – the irony of which commenters are quick to point out. One commenter wrote “@hotelchelsea is just another soulless monstrosity profiting off artists while harming the artists that made the Chelsea famous.” On a picture of Janis Joplin from the 60s that the hotel posted, another commenter posted “Janis would be grossed out if she saw what y’all were doing to Gerald.”

At weekly painting sales, New Yorkers and out-of-towners alike come to buy paintings, lend their support, and get a glimpse of Decock’s life at the Chelsea. Decock welcomes them in, shares updates on his legal situation, and if they stay long enough, regales them with tales about his time at the famed hotel. Anthony Kiedis, the front man for the Red Hot Chili Peppers, he says, occupied the unit before he moved in.

“I think it’s unconscionable,” said Erin Kelly, a nearby resident. “People are being priced out. If the city loses its artists, I feel like it loses its soul.”

One and all who step into the “vortex” – Decock’s name for his home and workspace – stop in their tracks, arrested by the unique space. Every inch of the apartment, from the walls to the floors to the ceilings is covered in paint, gold leaf, and shimmering metallic foil.

Decock said as a child, he was fascinated by cars: their bright metallic colors and the way they shone in the light. He’s also inspired by the natural world and psychedelia. His paintings, which he began working on after decorating his apartment, often incorporate many of those elements.

Melissa Haupt, a frequent guest of the hotel, attended one of Decock’s sales. While she loves the history of the hotel, Haupt said she might consider staying elsewhere if they go through with Decock’s eviction.

For many who pass through Decock’s apartment, his story is a microcosm of a broader trend: many of the same places in New York that are eager to capitalize on their rich artistic histories are also now places where it is nearly impossible for real artists to survive. “It is capitalism,” said Amanda Sromek, who spent time at the Chelsea years ago. “Institutional redevelopment is destroying the soul of New York.”

For Decock, his struggle is about more than being an artist. It’s about affordability more broadly. “I’m a person. Even if I wasn’t an artist, I’m 67 years old. I’ve lived here for almost 32 years,” he said. “Can I honestly navigate New York real estate?”