Let’s just say that my taste has evolved. If you read my first column about buying two pieces of art that took years to pay off when I was a young and broke lawyer, you were left dangling. Do I still like them 20 years later? One, yes – one, not so much.
Today the Ori Reisman beach scene hangs in my house, in a semi-prominent place in the front hall. I still like it (minor downgrade from love at first sight) and I’ve managed to stave off my sister’s attempts over the years to either buy it or steal it from me. The Ed Baynard piece is hanging in my office manager’s private office. She tolerates it; I rarely look at it.
Did I make a mistake buying them? Absolutely not. Were they amazing purchases? Absolutely yes. They created an art-loving monster.
My taste in art has morphed and evolved over the years. There have been stages of buying only photography, then realism, moving to abstract art, pop art and the list goes on. The Ed Baynard is a minimalist etching of flowers in a vase. Reflecting back on the purchase, I think: Did I really like that? It’s very girly. My new partner and others make fun of it when they see it, but my heart still has a soft spot for it. When I do look at it, it makes me happy. It gives me peace.
When I buy art, it’s never as an investment; it’s always because I love the piece. While it makes practical sense to buy art that will appreciate in value and become a good investment over time, it isn’t what drives my decision when I pull out my credit card and take the plunge.
My first two pieces of art, as it turns out, have appreciated in value, which is a bonus but not at all critical. If they had lost value, I wouldn’t love them any less. Every art decision for me involves affirmative answers to these questions: Is this something that I want to look at? Is this something that will make me happy? Will it challenge me? Will I glance at it when I walk into the room and react? Is it provocative? Does it evoke emotions in me and others who come into my house?
These are the reasons why I buy art. And the good news is, the first two pieces that I bought still meet those criteria. Maybe because I’m a sentimental sap, but also maybe because they are great pieces of art.
Lesson learned? Avoid being pressured by artists or sales people. If you look at the piece of art and you don’t love it, don’t buy it. Don’t feel obligated because the artist is your friend. Art needs to speak to you. You need to see it and say: I know exactly where this is going to hang on my wall and I will love it there. As the years go by, the piece may move around from room to room, from cottage, to home, to apartment, to office. But as long as you still want to look at it, you will have made the right choice.
Susan Wortzman is an ardent art collector and lover of all things e-discovery. While she is not traipsing about galleries at home in Toronto and around the world, she runs her law firm Wortzman Nickle, surrounded by paintings, photographs and sculpture. Have questions or a column idea for Susan? Send them here.
Image: Will Merydith via Flickr