The #1 trap people fall into buying art (and how to avoid it)
Plus...life-changing coffee cups, a Moroccan home comes to London, and a homage to...lovage(?)
Buying psychology is now part and parcel of pretty much any retail experience. Think about the countdown timer on virtually any online ticket sales. Or the Birkin waitlist . The psychological context has a huge impact on your buying decision.
And this is the trap people fall into when buying original art, especially from art fairs. The games start from the get-go: the fair is on for a handful of days, and is billed as the moment in the year for you to buy art.
Then, to make sure you attend, you have to buy a ticket. It’s not just an event to flaneur through, you’re now committed.
You arrive a palpitating sweaty mess on the Saturday morning clutching your pocket-crinkled Ticketmaster print out, and it begins…
Within seconds you’re sucked down a promising aisle, buffeted by “capacious handbags” and the latest Bugaboo Panzer 6. The march of the grey dads around you is disorienting. You are too polite to break stride and browse. Your jaw aching from repeated apologies to those around you, you emerge at the coffee pop up to see a crushingly long queue.
This is the test. You’re here now and you’re here to buy art. Get back in there.
In the years I’ve worked with collectors this is the context they explain to me when they talk about their regretful buys. The rushed, ill-considered purchases they were never sure about (and couldn’t be sure about) as it sat on a MDF wall in a conference centre. It doesn’t mean every piece bought at an art fair is a disaster - far from it - and I’ve bought at fairs myself. But getting sucked into the false-pressure is bound to lead to disappointment.
My advice to collectors is often to step back and set the right dynamics:
Are you sure you know the space you’re going to put this in? Sometimes the answer is a comfortable ‘no’. For most people who are not seasoned collectors the answer is absolutely ‘yes’. In which case, try to gain more confidence the art will look great in that space. If that means asking the artist or their gallery to visit you with the piece, try it.
If you know you like a certain artist’s style, remove yourself from the starched environment of a gallery or the scrum of a fair and arrange a personal studio visit. More often than not there will be work in the studio which hasn’t been seen anywhere at all. Most artists aren’t salespeople and you can be totally honest about your buying situation rather than feel shamed into parting with your money.
If you don’t quite know what you want and you don’t have the time to invest in studio visits and multiple artist interactions, consider onboarding some help. Obviously I would say this, it’s exactly why I set up Interrupted Art as a way to explore the market, test artworks in the space they’re intended for and have the time to make decisions.
But whatever you do don’t be rushed into snap purchases. Not only will it likely end in regret, it renders the process joyless. You are starting a journey to make your home (and any future home) vibrant with beautiful creations. Make it a pleasure.
Looks we love
Last week I fell in love with these stainless steel Bettina Ceramica cappuccino cups whilst on a client install. They are meticulously sourced (as is everything from Bettina Ceramica) by its founder Natalie Sytner and, my word, they are beautiful pieces.
This “happy accident” bar is the effervescent and frightfully cool Sarah Corbett-Winder’s. Accidental because it was meant to be her kitchen sink, and happy presumably because of the joy it brings everyone who enjoys its contents. A lesson that not everything beautiful needs to have been intentional.
We were so happy to see Sam Palmer’s home, The Flint House, appear in House and Garden in the last few weeks. Sam has, inch-by-inch, transformed her coastal cottage to what it is today. Art aside (which we in part helped with, natch) she has mastered a vibe which straddles easy living with a classic aesthetic. When you hear she was a designer with Ralph Lauren, you get it.
Diary
A packed few weeks has seen a new installation of Rebecca Hardaker works at 67 Pall Mall members club, where I curate the artwork on display, as well as having the pleasure of meeting with the wonderful Harriet Haskell-Thomas to install a new Phil Carter work in her home.
It was also a treat to swap a new artwork in Olive Haller’s home just off the Northcote Road, which she has styled as a modern Moroccan riad, somehow also juggling her gorgeous baby who was nestled in her husband’s chest on our arrival. If you don’t already, I recommend following her instagram as it’s a really special haven she’s created.
In one of this month’s rare free Friday nights we nabbed a table at the The Waterman’s Arms for dinner. Since its glowing review in the FT it’s very hard to reserve less than a few weeks out, and with good reason. I can credit their butter bean, gremolata and fennel dish for a now London-wide search for it’s secret ingredient: lovage. And whatever you do, start your night with their Matador mezcal cocktail.
