I started a collection with one main purpose: to learn. I had hoped to learn without actually spending any money but the more I investigated, the more I realized that collecting is like learning to ride a bike, the only way to know is to actually get on (and fall off). The plan was to buy, learn, and then resell the art for whatever I paid for it: in essence to “rent” for free and gain an education. That plan, as you will see, changed significantly, but in the beginning, this was it:
Arriving at a budget
Like alcohol, price CAN be used to indicate quality of investment in a work of art (the price other people are paying, not the asking price on stale inventory). I’ll often try a new bottle of wine using price as an indicator of quality and 9 times out of 10 be right. If you buy a 46 million dollar Monet, the chances are pretty darn good you can recoup, if not multiply, your investment. A $30 print, on the other hand, probably won’t be worth the paper it’s printed on after a few years. I decided that $10,000 indicated a high enough demand to give me a reasonable shot at resale AND was the highest amount I could conceive (and I don’t mean “highest amount I could afford”, I literally mean “was an amount I could visualize”). In order to hedge my bets, I would buy 2 pieces at around $10,000 each. I called my bank, raised my credit limit to $20,000 (I should mention that the 10,000 for each piece included any interest I would pay on my credit card), and started looking.
As it turns out, I learned a lot. I learned how to approach a gallery, how transactions are handled, when and how to negotiate price, and what I really wanted to collect. By far the most important lesson was an understanding of why people advise against “investing” in art: to be successful, I had to honestly love my purchase so much that I could not imagine selling it at any price. If I felt that strongly about it, it was a good “investment”, but one that I could never sell.
My new strategy became this: Sacrifice as much as I can in order to save as much as I can and buy one piece of art a year… forever. That means PB&J sandwiches for lunch and ramen noodles for dinner every day, cutting my own hair and canceling my cable. Selling is not out of the question but can only be done to benefit the growth and refinement of my collection, not my pocketbook.
The Rules
Establishing a list of guidelines has been a huge help to me – it narrows my options considerably (a necessity when viewing a LOT of work with a small budget) and gives me confidence in what I like without eliciting other people’s opinions. This list should not be viewed as a recommendation or requirement for anyone else – I know of several great collections built on different or no rules at all. Certain pieces were purchased before the creation of certain rules so you may notice that not every piece I own adheres to every current rule.
1. It must be original (not an edition)
2. Must be an under-known artist – either “emerging” or “recently discovered”. If my friends have heard of them = no.
3. The artist must directly benefit from the purchase (no auctions, secondary galleries, etc).
4. I can’t buy it because it spoofs, pays tribute, or reminds me of another artist OR another work by the same artist – that I can’t afford or obtain.
5. The artwork must increase in interest the longer I look at it (over days, not seconds).
6. The piece must emphasize/demonstrate what is special/unique about that particular artist.
7. A piece can not be self referential (“about” art) or punch-line (once you “get the joke” it loses interest)
8. It must look significantly better in person than in any photograph.
9. It must show the hand of the artist – no photos, no outsourced/manufactured objects, no “found” objects, nothing “photo-real” or overly minimalist.
10. The artwork must be purchased from a friendly, ethical gallery with an excellent history of shows.
11. I must want more than one – like it “belongs” with siblings.
