Scary Business: Buying Art

There's been some good news on the art front for me too: I sold a print earlier this month, and while away, got news that this painting had been purchased:

It's always encouraging to sell work, and I'm very appreciative of the people who buy it. When people come to our home, they often go around looking at the artwork, by ourselves and others; at this point in our lives our problem is not a lack of art (or textiles, or ceramic plates), but rather not enough walls. On the other hand, in 2013 I gave some small original prints to friends inside Christmas cards. It made me very happy to hear that some of them had framed the prints and put them up, but I was surprised to hear many of them say that it was the first piece of original art they'd ever owned.

Surprised, yes -- but I do understand. Buying a first piece of original art is a real leap; it's often a significant amount of money for something that feels impractical -- as compared to furniture, for instance -- and rather scary. Nobody teaches us how to buy art, and it's not a kind of shopping that's shared among peers like buying music or books. Many people are unsure of their own taste, and hesitant to make a mistake. We don't have these hang-ups when it comes to clothes -- where we all do make some mistakes and accept that fact -- and frankly, a lot of clothes cost way more than a piece of original art. I think it's important not to worry about what anyone else thinks but to listen to your own heart, and buy what you really love. If you see a piece of art that sticks in your mind, that you think about again and again, or that has meaningful connotations, that's a good indication it may be for you. You can start with a print, or a small drawing, rather than a more expensive painting: for $50-$100 you can often buy something original and of good quality, and you can get an affordable frame at IKEA or Pier 1. That's basically one dinner out at a good restaurant, a few bottles of wine, or a pair of not-very-expensive shoes -- and instead you'll have made an investment that will give you enjoyment your whole life.

How about you? Have you ever bought original art? If not, why not? Do you have posters or other reproductions of artwork? What would you like to have on your walls, if price were no object?

 

Comments

[Natalie]

Congratulations, Beth, it's a lovely painting and your prints are fine too.
It's certainly true that perceptions about buying original art are full of confusion but I think that a lot of this is due to the insane thing that is now the 'art market'and the insane prices that are asked, and paid, for much 'art' that is merely money-greed in disguise.

[Rene Sanchez]

This is a nice painting Beth- I like it.

I've never bought original art...maybe because I like to make them myself. I do paintings and sketches for my own pleasure and the sense of accomplishment when it's completed.

[Rachel Barenblat]

I'm so glad someone bought that beautiful piece!

I am one of those who framed the print you sent at Christmastime a while back. It sits on my desk at the synagogue and I gaze at it every day.

Our walls are covered with art. Some by friends; some which we've found in other places; and a couple of pieces we've bought in galleries. They were affordable by gallery standards and a major leap for us, but I have never stopped being glad that we spent that money. Art enlivens.

[Hattie]

That is very nice work. I tend to buy art from artists I know personally or from local artists. I also like to give art works as gifts. I don't care about taste at all, because that is an individual thing anyway.

[Andrea M.]

I once earned a lovely large lithograph from a babysitting gig, and an oil painting from editing a book. (The underground economy.) Other small things were bought at silent auctions at artist-run centers. Pinhole photos, small drawings, etc. Artists are always being asked to donate to these fundraisers, and they often do it, even though it can get a bit much.

[Sharyn]

I have some very nice pieces that we bought just because we liked them. A painting from an artist in France that is one of the things I would try to save from a fire (after my cats and powerbook). A carved clock that was made to my ideas and a number of my sister's works. And a pastel I did of a cat who died way too young.
And I still wish that we had splurged and both another piece from the French artist that was $1500.00 which we didn't have but should have bought anyway!

[Roderick Robinson]

Beyond buying originals is commissioning. I've done this several times and simultaneously mentioned the sum I had in mind. This can be a leap in the dark and can lead to embarrassment; on the other hand, if you're better informed, there's immense pleasure in guessing a reasonable asking price and then adding another hundred. Few artists are capable of disguising their reaction that it's more than they expected - one telltale is a totally blank expression. Otherwise buying is such a grubby business.

Once I commissioned a statue. The artist said, "You've got to realise this is not a casual - "

I interrupted, "How about £XXX."

In this case I suspect I was way over. The artist said, "Oh." Nothing more, except the space between us was alive with unspoken thoughts. Better than that, we both went away satisfied.

[Duchesse]

Oh, lucky person, and what joy your art will give him or her!

I like your advice and would add, in my young adult days I could not afford 'real art' except to rent it from art galleries like the Art Gallery of Toronto or some public libraries. This is a fantastic way to learn what you like and what you want to live with (not always the same, especially if you live with someone else.) Many of these galleries also have a rent-to-own option so you can take time, decide, save. The rental cost is applied to the purchase price. That first decade or so not only taught me what I liked, it also taught me about the tangible, daily joy of living with art (including yours!)