By John Q. Hosedrinker 
Art museum curator and director David A. Ross resigned from his position at the School of Visual Arts in New York following the release of documents detailing his friendship with convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein. Correspondence from 2009 shows Ross calling Epstein “incredible” and “a friend,” even responding positively to an exhibition idea involving young individuals that hinted at exploitative themes. Ross claimed he believed Epstein’s assertion of a “political frame-up” after Epstein’s 2008 plea deal, and later expressed shame for his judgment when the full extent of Epstein’s crimes became apparent.
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The School of Visual Arts has seen David A. Ross step down from his position, a development directly linked to emerging details of his past associations with Jeffrey Epstein. The resignation follows the surfacing of communications and information that highlight a disturbing level of familiarity and even endorsement of Epstein’s activities. This situation raises significant questions about the judgment and ethical boundaries of individuals within influential artistic and academic circles.
One particularly unsettling exchange from 2009, attributed to David A. Ross and Epstein, proposed an exhibition concept titled “Statutory.” This exhibition, as described, would have featured “girls and boys ages 14-25” presented in a way that obscured their true ages. Ross’s response to this idea, reportedly stating “You are incredible” and referencing Brooke Shields posing nude at age 10, indicates a startling insensitivity, if not an active complicity, regarding the exploitation of minors. It’s a stark reminder of the dark undercurrents that can exist beneath seemingly respectable facades.
Adding to the gravity of the situation, reports suggest that Ross continued to express pride in calling Epstein a friend, even after Epstein’s conviction for sex crimes. This continued affirmation of friendship with someone found guilty of such heinous offenses is profoundly disturbing. It speaks to a normalization of unspeakable acts within certain circles, where personal relationships appear to have trumped moral accountability. The persistence of such associations, even after public exposure and legal repercussions, fuels a sense of frustration and a yearning for genuine accountability.
The fallout from these revelations at the School of Visual Arts isn’t just about one individual’s downfall. It highlights a broader societal concern: the need for individuals who have been deeply entrenched in such problematic circles to come forward and offer full transparency. The sentiment expressed is a strong desire for someone with firsthand knowledge of these activities to break their silence, to testify publicly and under oath, perhaps before Congress. The hope is that one person’s courageous act of revealing the truth could unravel a larger network of complicity.
The chilling aspect of these revelations is the potential for widespread complicity. The thought that dozens, perhaps hundreds, of individuals may have witnessed or participated in horrific acts, yet remain silent, is deeply unsettling. The current atmosphere of secrecy surrounding these powerful figures is a testament to their ability to protect themselves, often through mutual silence. However, the hope persists that the sheer weight of exposed evidence and the increasing pressure for transparency might eventually compel someone to speak out.
There’s a peculiar, albeit grim, satisfaction to be found in the paranoia that must now plague those involved. The individuals who once operated with impunity, shielded by their wealth and influence, now live with the constant fear of their secrets being revealed. Their carefully constructed denial and their entanglement with other unethical individuals offer no true solace. This existential anxiety, the gnawing shame and guilt, is a form of consequence in itself, a stark contrast to the outward displays of confidence they might project.
For those who attended the School of Visual Arts during the period in question, these revelations hit particularly close to home. Some recall David A. Ross as a professor, someone entrusted with guiding young artists toward their futures. The irony is palpable, and deeply unsettling, in a published 2009 text where Ross remarks on “teaching at SVA tonight – senior seminar, preparing these young artists for the real world that awaits them. How fucking ironic can you get!” This statement, made by someone who maintained ties with Epstein, now rings with a hollow, disturbing resonance for his former students.
The demand for justice extends far beyond resignations. While losing one’s job is a consequence, many feel it is insufficient. The sentiment is clear: these individuals, and those like them, need to face criminal prosecution for their actions. The current approach, which seems to involve a slow trickle of information and limited accountability, leaves many feeling that true justice remains elusive, especially when contrasted with the perceived protection afforded to certain individuals in positions of power, particularly within political spheres.
The sheer disbelief at how individuals like Epstein could attract so many influential people to their orbit is a recurring theme. The question of “how did this sick **** get so many people to fall all over themselves just to eat his ass?” highlights the baffling allure of power, wealth, and perhaps shared dark secrets that bind such individuals together. It’s a testament to the insidious nature of influence and the potential for even seemingly reputable institutions to become entangled with corrupt elements.
The normalization of certain behaviors within elite circles is evident when one reads statements like “I’m still proud to call you a friend” made about someone convicted of sex crimes against children. This underscores how deeply ingrained unethical perspectives can become until public exposure forces a reckoning. The placement of such news under the entertainment section of news outlets, rather than a dedicated crime or justice section, further illustrates a societal tendency to downplay or compartmentalize these disturbing realities.
The narrative that powerful individuals can simply “move on” from these revelations, as some political figures have suggested, is met with strong resistance. There’s a pervasive feeling that the truth, if fully uncovered, would be far more shocking and complex than many are willing to acknowledge. The idea that closed-door subpoenas involving prominent figures might be a tactic to prevent further revelations, such as naming names and instigating a “if I go down, you are too” scenario, is a recurring theory.
The offer of immunity for testimony is seen by some as a necessary tool to extract information, provided it’s for individuals who didn’t directly participate in the abuse. The “tinfoil hat theory” suggesting Epstein was a Russian agent with blackmail materials on powerful figures is a stark illustration of the extreme speculation and distrust generated by the lack of complete transparency. Before legal mandates for document release, the architects of these clandestine networks likely felt invincible, their wealth and power acting as impenetrable shields.
However, the fear persists that many involved may be genuinely deluded, incapable of recognizing their wrongdoing even as they face arrest. While some may be consumed by paranoia, others appear to be entirely unconcerned, emboldened by their perceived invincibility. The casualness with which these communications were exchanged via personal email accounts speaks volumes about their belief that there would be no repercussions, that their wealth and power were an absolute guarantee of protection. The hope, however, is that this era of impunity is drawing to a close, and that more resignations, more consequences, and crucially, more prosecutions will follow. The ultimate responsibility, it seems, may tragically fall upon the victims themselves to be the catalysts for further truth.