How to Start Collecting Art: Looking Is Where It Begins

By DrainedEye, an independent artist based in Philadelphia.

If you want to start collecting art, the first thing I would tell you to do is look at as much art as you can find, wherever you can find it.

Museums.

Galleries.

Art fairs.

Artist studios.

Instagram.

The walls of a restaurant.

Murals in your neighborhood.

It really doesn’t matter where you begin.

The act of looking at art is where collecting starts.

If you already love art but feel like you don’t know enough about it to call yourself a collector, I wouldn’t worry too much about the label.

If you love it, you might be called to learn more about it.

Follow that.

Look for attraction

When you’re surrounded by art, I don’t think you need to begin by analyzing everything you’re seeing.

I believe in signals and signs.

So I would begin with attraction.

What stopped you?

What did you walk past and then come back to?

What did you remember after you left?

What made you want to get closer?

You don’t necessarily need to understand the attraction yet. The initial response is information.

The more art you see, the more opportunities you give yourself to experience that response.

Go to museums and look up the artist whose painting stopped you.

Walk into galleries even when you aren’t planning to buy anything.

Follow working artists online.

Visit studios when you’re invited.

Go to art fairs and pay attention to the booths you keep returning to.

Look.

Then look some more.

Eventually, patterns begin to emerge.

Learn to recognize influence—and accept what you don’t know

As you look at more art, you’ll probably begin recognizing where things come from.

There is a lot of copying in art.

You can find countless works that immediately remind you of Basquiat, Haring, Picasso, Warhol or any number of artists with recognizable visual languages.

Influence itself isn’t a problem. Artists have always been influenced by other artists.

The more interesting question for a collector is:

What did this artist do with that influence?

Did they take it somewhere new?

Is there something unmistakably theirs in the work?

Or are you primarily responding to it because it reminds you of something you’ve already learned has value?

It’s perfectly reasonable to ask an artist about their influences. If they give you names you’ve never heard before, look them up. Compare the work.

But there’s another side to this that I think is important to admit:

You aren’t going to know everything.

I certainly don’t.

I didn’t go to art school, and I’m a working artist myself. It’s entirely possible for me to encounter something without realizing how closely it resembles the work of an artist I’ve never seen.

I don’t spend my life trying to see everything that’s ever been created. As a creator, a lot of my attention goes toward pursuing my own creative agenda.

Sometimes I even discover an influence in my own work after the fact.

That’s part of making art too.

So educating your eye isn’t about eventually reaching some point where nothing can fool you.

It’s about becoming more curious.

When something interests you, investigate it.

Decide what kind of collector you want to be

Budget matters differently depending on what you’re actually trying to accomplish.

If you love Van Gogh and have a modest budget, perhaps a reproduction or museum poster satisfies what you’re looking for. You can surround yourself with imagery that matters to you without pretending you’re buying an original Van Gogh.

But maybe uniqueness is important to you.

You want to own something that isn’t hanging in thousands of other homes.

Then I would start small.

Many artists—even extremely successful ones—create ways for people to enter their work at lower price points.

That could mean a small original, a work on paper, a print or an edition.

The important thing is to understand what you’re actually buying.

Is it original?

Is it one of ten?

One of fifty?

An open edition?

A reproduction?

Those things can all have a place in someone’s collection, but they aren’t interchangeable.

Understand the rarity of what you’re collecting.

Then decide whether that rarity matters to you.

What if your taste is more expensive than your budget?

If you keep discovering that everything you love is expensive, maybe you have good taste.

But you don’t have to force a purchase simply because you want to become a collector.

You can keep looking.

You can save.

You can look for smaller or more accessible works by artists you admire.

You can discover emerging artists whose work gives you the same kind of response.

Or you can simply admire something you cannot own.

There’s nothing wrong with that.

Looking is free.

And looking is still developing your eye.

The goal isn’t to accumulate objects as quickly as possible.

It’s to understand what matters to you enough that eventually you’ll know which objects you actually want to live with.

Should you collect art as an investment?

Art can appreciate.

It can also depreciate.

So I would be very careful about treating any artwork as a guaranteed financial investment.

If potential return is important to you, one thing I would want to understand is the artist’s commitment to their career.

Are they serious?

Are they continuing to make work?

Are they developing?

Are they building something they intend to pursue for the long term?

None of that guarantees that a piece will increase in value.

But I think there’s another kind of conviction involved in collecting that matters too.

If you’re absolutely convinced that a particular piece is something special, you’re probably going to talk about it differently.

You’ll show it differently.

You’ll tell people about the artist.

You’ll carry your conviction about the work into the world.

Maybe that conviction spreads.

That’s part of how culture gets built around artists in the first place.

But I wouldn’t buy something you don’t really want to own because you’ve convinced yourself somebody else will eventually pay more for it.

Eventually, collecting means owning

There are many reasons people collect art.

Beauty.

Connection.

History.

Status.

Investment.

Supporting artists.

Living around ideas they care about.

But ultimately, collecting involves owning.

And something changes when you cross that threshold.

Think about the difference between looking at a luxury car through dealership glass and actually bringing it home.

You stop imagining what owning it might feel like.

Now it’s yours.

You experience it.

You learn things about it you couldn’t have known from photographs.

Art does something similar.

You don’t just see the painting during gallery hours anymore.

You see it in morning light.

You walk past it without thinking about it.

Then one day it catches you again.

You move it.

You live through different periods of your life with it.

Other people encounter it because it’s hanging in your home.

Your understanding of it can change.

And something even more concrete happens:

You become part of its provenance.

The artwork had a life before you owned it.

Now you’re part of that history.

I don’t spend much time imagining where my paintings will be 20, 50 or 100 years from now.

My part is simpler.

Create the work.

And find it a loving home.

Ownership also means responsibility

There’s another difference between appreciating art and owning it that isn’t as romantic:

Now you have to take care of it.

Different artwork requires different kinds of care.

Works on paper can be particularly sensitive to sunlight.

Not every artwork is made with acid-free materials, which can affect how it ages.

Certain fluorescent pigments need protection from direct sunlight to reduce the risk of fading.

Different materials, surfaces and framing methods create different considerations.

So when you’re seriously considering a piece, ask about it.

What is it made from?

Is there anything you should know about displaying it?

Does it require special care?

How should it be handled?

The artist should be able to help you understand the object you’re considering bringing into your life.

Collecting doesn’t end when you acquire something.

In some ways, that’s when your responsibility for the work begins.

What if you’re afraid you’ll regret buying it?

Don’t automatically dismiss that fear.

Get curious about it.

Try to figure out what you’re actually afraid of.

Maybe you’re worried the work will depreciate.

If losing that money would create a real problem for you, perhaps you aren’t financially ready to make that purchase.

Or maybe you need to learn more about the artist and their practice before you feel comfortable.

But perhaps the fear isn’t financial at all.

Maybe you just aren’t convinced that this is the piece.

Then keep looking.

You don’t have to force the decision.

And pay attention to what happens when you walk away.

If you move on easily, maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

If you keep thinking about it?

That could be a signal.

So when do you become a collector?

I think the answer is simpler than people sometimes make it.

Look at art.

Notice what attracts you.

Learn about what catches your attention.

Follow your curiosity.

Understand what you’re buying.

And when you encounter something you want to become responsible for—something you actually want to bring into your life—own it.

The first piece doesn’t have to prove that you know everything about art.

It proves that you were willing to choose.

And then you keep looking.

If this article is part of the beginning for you, I’d invite you to [explore the different kinds of work I make]. Don’t begin by trying to decide what you should buy. Just look.

If something stops you, [ask me about it]. I’m happy to tell you what went into the work and what it means to me.

What it means to you may be something else entirely.