Art That I Regret Buying
As an art advisor, I clearly buy art for myself sometimes. I’ve bought art at different stages of my life, at wildly different price points, and that I am drawn to for extremely different reasons. Most of it has served the intended purposes: showcasing my particular taste, creating moments of inspiration in my home, allowing me to participate in a slice of an artist's career, etc. Some of it, however, has not. Without naming names, I’m happy to share details on the art I regret buying, which has certainly created a few learning moments that have fueled how I best support our clients’ collecting strategies.
A great example of a piece, an Amanda means oversized Polaroid, in my personal collection that I will absolutely love forever.
There really are two artworks that I have bought that I would be fine parting ways with. I would also be fine saying farewell to every single artwork my husband bought on his own, but that’s a different story. Both of the works I mentioned are abstract paintings in the 40x30” size range - a scale that can work in so many places. One is on one of my walls and the other is in a closet. They each cost around $5,000 to $7,000, a price point for emerging work that’s generally highly illiquid.
Here is my issue with them: I bought each separately years ago because my initial reaction to each was “Wow. That’s cool”. The story behind each work was pretty light, as I remember, and neither of those stories particularly interested me (clearly… if it’s not staying with me now). The coolness was what prompted me to pull the trigger, which I did fairly quickly. This brings to mind an apt line that I read in some Brene Brown research (I love her) which was, “Cool is an emotional straightjacket.” Yes, this refers to people, not art, but the concept is so relevant – coolness is limiting and externally orienting. My affinity for each of these pieces, accordingly, timed out once the coolness wore off.
Additionally, one of the artists of the painting currently in my closet did not continue his artistic practice. There are countless reasons why this could have happened, and I commend so many artists for pursuing the fine art field that is extremely difficult to navigate. But to my knowledge, this artist ended his practice because it wasn’t interesting to him anymore. He was simply drawn to other types of work.
This is of course fine - everyone should pivot as needed in life - but I have to wonder if his waning interest in his art practice translated to a piece that didn’t have that much depth and ultimately fed my increased apathy towards the painting itself.
Fortunately my own experience informs how I live, work and grow everyday, and I now take my own advice for collecting; acquire artwork that interests you because you feel a connection to it on multiple levels - consider the aesthetics, the materials, the process, and the artist’s drive. That is what drives a deeper dialogue with a particular work of art, and accordingly, long term interest. Additionally, I’m absolutely not beating myself up about acquiring these works years ago, and not loving them forever. Buyer's remorse is an inevitable part of life, and to put this in perspective, I have absolutely bought the same or more in clothing, gifts, groceries or whatever else in my life that has gone unused. Living and learning is real, and when we give ourselves grace, we move forward faster.