why buy? -- collecting is for china roosters

Why buy art -- there aren’t that many good reasons on the market these days. The main ones usually presented have discouraging downsides they drag along with them. Say the reason you want to buy art is to impress the in-laws, your social set, the gardner who peeks in the window. No matter what you put up your insurance adjuster brother-in-law will say something snide, moron, you can shake it off, but what if the nephew with glasses is laughing behind your back because there’s something wrong with Thomas Kinkade that you don’t know about? Substitute any other name, even Picasso, and the gnawing insecurity remains. It has to do with buying art to impress, and nothing to do with the art at all is what I’m suggesting.

Buying art for investment is a trip to Reno without the flashing lights and bells. Oh they proclaim on billboards how some tourist went home with fifty thousand, but on the sidewalk young couples weep uncontrollably. It’s like that. When some dealer drops his or her voice to just above a whisper, you’re in big trouble because you’re about to hear how this prodigy is on the verge of skyrocketing to the top dragging your paltry ‘seems-like-alot-now’ along. With enough documentation the client’s greed could eventually cloud their vision for this contrived mediocrity, no buybacks. It would be better to go to Reno and hear the news straight away.

Many people just collect, anything. On TV shows experts pronounce the current collector’s value for vintage pewter spoons, faded autographs, slightly chipped grandma vases from the attic. Everything older than a minute seems to plug into some unseen metering machine counting up the dollars of its ‘collector value’, even after its useful life is through, your very own mint-condition cream separator. They say this applies to art but that's demeaning. Collecting art would be like collecting anything else, always looking to trade up to more perceived market value and more fame no matter how acquired. It can be an exciting and expensive hobby, but not essentially different than a private mania for dime store ashtrays.

Recognizing the human investment that’s already been made in a work of art might make the exchange seem more worthwhile. This painting, drawing, limited print isn’t the artist’s first attempt. That happened long ago, was awkward and crude, and looked that way to them at the time. They’ve walked every step from there to what you’re looking at in this moment, the art they’ve made. Labors undertaken without compensation are embedded there, and of all the options possible they chose to say this, their personal response to life in general. Maybe in some part you agree, and if you do they would probably sell it to you so that you can incorporate this shard of their journey into your own, and so they can acquire more tubes of paint, visit more ethnic restaurants, and purchase more renewable fuel to go looking for neat stuff to paint. The object around here is not to collect -- it’s to understand, to truly appreciate, and to actually own art.