It can be refreshing to discover that things can be done differently. In a city where the art world often moves according to well-rehearsed routines, alternative models that allow creativity to spread more freely can seem almost radical. Time to Be Happy presents itself without pretending to be a gallery, a museum, or anything the art world already knows. “If you come with some friends next time, don’t tell them what they’re going to visit,” Benzi, the founder, told the Observer after a rainy day visit to the Time To Be Happy gallery, where all worries, concerns and even any sense of time were put on hold the moment we stepped inside the space based on the Bowery, next to the new, soon-to-be-reopened museum.
Benzi, or Ben Zion as his birth name, turned to a full-time career as a digital artist after successfully founding the popular New York cupcake brand Baked by Melissa. Art found him by chance around 2014. It was his sister’s 40th birthday. She was in Israel, he was in New York, and was unable to travel to the celebration. “I wanted to do something special for her, some kind of gift,” Benzie recalls. “So I took photographs from different moments of her life and started combining them with places around New York that had some meaning or visual power.” He repeated this process in several locations around the city, creating small loops that blended their memories with the urban landscape. When he finished the piece and showed it to people, their reaction surprised him. They felt something. “I realized that the work was affecting people in a way that I had never experienced before. This was really my first personal artwork. Before that, I didn’t consider myself an artist. I’ve always been creative, but I had never made art in that sense.”
All of the videos in the exhibition are Benzi’s: digital screens surrounded by repurposed found objects that serve as frames. Many of the works depict other artists, whom Benzi photographed within their studios or within their personal visual worlds, often with a surreal edge. Previous pieces are housed inside Chiquita Banana boxes, a playful homage to the pop art that debuted during its first proper art show in Miami. It is a limited edition of 100 copies, most of which have been sold. About 18 left.
His ties to the cryptocurrency and digital art community are also evident in a stunning piece at the entrance, created in collaboration with CryptoPunks. It includes 24 hours, each of which corresponds to a time zone around the world. “Depending on the time on the clock you’re standing in right now, there are 23 other places in the world that are either in the past or in the future,” Benzi explains. “It’s a reminder that even though we feel like we’re sharing the same moment, we’re always a little out of sync. And time is only relative, in the end.”


This project started as a call for a group of CryptoPunks collectors. Benzi selected 24 people and invited each owner to participate, each paying 1 ETH to be included. This piece eventually allowed him to open the gallery in the first place, serving as a form of crowdfunding that reflects the collaborative dynamics of the digital art community—an ecosystem that the traditional art world tends to overlook.
Another work on offer is a collaboration with Dr. Sian Proctor, the first black woman to pilot a spacecraft. One side of the piece features a poem she wrote while in orbit, while the front displays her spacesuit coin and mission patches. “Dr. Proctor says that while she was in orbit, she orbited the Earth every 90 minutes, and saw the sun rise and set every 45 minutes. When you experience time like that, your perception of time and space becomes completely different.”
Many of Benzi’s works involve displays found inside antique watches, including IBM watches manufactured between 1912 and 1930. IBM began producing these machines in the early 1900s as part of an industrial effort to measure and regulate labor productivity—one of the foundations of the tyranny of time in modern capitalism. “The cards would be inserted, the workers would take them in and out, and the machine would track their hours,” Benzi says. But this logic is reversed in its structure. “Instead of rushing into action, we invite visitors to write down one thing that makes them happy.” Surrounding the clocks are historical photographs taken circa 1914 inside IBM factories in New York. He simply inserted the Time to Be Happy message into the archive photos. This gesture represents a quiet subversion of the productivity system that governs modern life.


“I believe you can open the door to discovering happiness by detaching from past regrets and future fears,” says Benzi, speaking as someone who has come to this realization after a long personal journey. “Our minds are constantly moving back and forth between these two things. But the most beautiful moments in life are those in which we are fully present. This is the philosophy behind Happy Time: it is a reflection of time, happiness, and conversations that emerge through art and human connection.”
This spirit energizes the entire space and Benzi’s broader vision for it, as the exhibition and residency program are extensions of his own artistic practice. “When I opened the first gallery, it was actually a pop-up in Miami,” he recalls. “At first, I just showed my work. After a few months, it did well, and then I organized a show here in New York around those pieces around the clock. It happened during NFT week in New York, and it was successful.” Eventually, he found this Bowery space, a former shoe store with a street-level facade and a basement. He decided to turn it into an art environment – a residency program that serves as a non-profit space for artists.
However, “Time to Be Happy” intentionally resists traditional definitions of the art world. There’s the museum, there’s the gallery, and then there’s It’s Time to Be Happy, which doesn’t belong entirely in any of those categories. The studio and exhibition space merge into a cohesive whole. “It’s a cultural environment where people come to see, make and talk about art,” Benzi says. Upon entering, one may encounter an artist painting right next to the window, greeting visitors as they enter, while another reads tarot cards and a sculptor works at the bottom of the room. Art and artists are everywhere, creating a living ecosystem. “When you go to a gallery or a museum, the experience often seems very isolated. You walk in and look at the work, and that’s it. Especially now, with everything going on in the world, I felt it was important to create something different. The idea here is to give people the opportunity to actually meet the artist. When you have a conversation, you suddenly realize that the work was made by someone. It becomes more personal.”


The basement residence operates only as a non-profit organization, while the street-level space serves as a gallery. “Everything that comes into the gallery goes directly back to supporting the artists and the space. We host events, workshops and residencies,” Benzi answered when asked about the financial model. “Some visitors would rather donate than buy art. They’ll say, ‘I just want to contribute.’ That’s possible, too. He’s begun to explore grants and partnerships with companies willing to support projects like this, even outside the traditional nonprofit framework.
Since Time to Be Happy opened in 2024, more than 100 artists have passed through the space, with some staying on from the early days. Artists apply to join the residency through an application process followed by an interview. According to Benzi, the quality of the participants is as important as the quality of the art. “It’s important that they can be around others and contribute to society,” he says. This philosophy becomes immediately apparent downstairs, where more than 20 artists were working simultaneously during our visit, exchanging ideas and discussing each other’s work in a constant flow of creative dialogue. “What I’ve learned is that if you keep the energy of connection alive, people will naturally feel happy. And when you create a shared space like this, people want to contribute to it.”
The Time to Be Happy gallery is open daily from 11am to 9pm to ensure access for those who work traditional business hours and for visitors who may not feel welcome in the art world. “There are a lot of rules in the traditional art system, and no one seems to question why these rules exist,” Benzi points out, noting how the institution has remained largely unchanged even as the world has transformed around it. “Technology, culture, opportunities – everything is different now. But everything changes, and the system has to evolve as well. What we are doing here is giving space to that possibility. In a way, it is an experiment.”


“Most people have at least a little curiosity about art — either creating it or just understanding what they’re looking at. But when you go to a museum or gallery, you usually only see the artwork on the wall with a name next to it,” Benzi says. “The idea here is that you can simply come in and spend some time with the artists, talk to them and see what they are doing.” There is no appointment required. The artists are here and working, and visitors can interact with them directly. “They can tell you about their process, what they were thinking about, and what they were going through while making it. The more questions you ask, the more open the work becomes. It becomes a conversation and a human connection.”
Time to Be Happy also hosts workshops and classes for children. “A lot of kids come here to learn and experience art,” Benzi says with a smile that reflects his passion for the project. “This place has become a real community place. You will see art collectors, families, artists, and even people walking by and deciding to stay for a while.” “For me, it became a full-time job. But honestly, it doesn’t feel like work. It never felt like a job. After about four months, I realized the project had outgrown me. I’d shifted away from being the center of it. Now it’s really about the platform and the community.”
Benzi is convinced that the project will continue to grow. “At this point, my role is mostly to make sure that everything runs smoothly: that the artists have what they need, that the space works, that people respect each other, that the fireplaces are on and the place is clean. Everyone has their own space to work and be happy. And when you walk in, you really feel like you are entering another world” – a world that embodies how artistic and cultural production can embrace different frameworks of sustainability, both from a financial standpoint and from a humanitarian standpoint.
