The Collector’s Dilemma : The Nature of Ethics vs Taste

I’ve talked about a lot from the artistic perspective, and while that will of course continue, I wanted to take some time to delve into a different perspective, a collector’s perspective, and the dilemmas that can occur when deciding who to collect from and what to collect.

In 2021 and 2022, when the art market was booming, I used a lot of my art earnings to collect from other artists. As someone who has actively lived through the starving artist lifestyle, the moment I actually started making money through my art, I felt a sense of excitement and guilt about having something other artists desperately needed. So I collected a lot of art, most of it physical, much of it digital as well, and the reasons ranged from simply wanting to help to genuinely loving the art.

I found myself at times collecting art I didn’t actually enjoy simply because I wanted to help. And while most of the art I collected was work I deeply connected with, such as pieces by photographers like Summer Wagner, Ben Zank, and Ponygirl, I often reflect on the difficulties I faced when deciding what to collect and how to understand the line between supporting an artist and supporting my own taste.

I am a huge advocate for artists, but collectors are immensely important as well. One of the things that doesn’t get discussed enough is the pressure collectors can feel to always be buying, surrounded by artists who desperately want and need their work to be collected in order to survive or even just to keep creating.

Collectors, in my opinion, should remain authentic to their taste and preferences. That means there will be a great deal of art that won’t be collected by a single individual. The only way to offset that is through a balance of more collectors and broader art education and awareness.

Whether you are a big or small collector having the financial means to collect art puts eyes on you. It makes it difficult to know who is being kind to you because they genuinely value you as a person and your perspective on art, and who is being kind because they want something from you.

Not all collectors face the same ethical dilemmas. Some aren’t really concerned about what it means to uplift artists but many good collectors find themselves at a crossroads between trying to do what’s right and indulging in their own preferences.

Some might read this and think that having the capital to collect simply makes your life easier in all regards, and that there should be little to no stress about what you collect. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

I’m not talking about the wealthy elite who aren’t interested in artists. I’m talking about the collectors who believe in the arts and want to see artists thrive and people win.

When someone collects from a community of artists, there is always someone that gets left out. The artist who needs the money the most can’t always take precedence over the collector’s personal taste or the relationship they may have with one artist over another.

Is that relationship biased to a degree? Sure, But it also represents trust, trust that they can collect from that artist without worrying about being manipulated or worse.

I think in order for a community of collectors and artists to thrive, there needs to be balance. Artists of many different styles need to exist alongside a range of collectors with varied tastes.

We ultimately can’t control people’s personal preferences toward art, nor should we want to. But it’s hard for a lone collector to decide who should or shouldn’t be collected in a sea of so much art. I don’t think the default should be to stick only to what’s familiar or safe. If that were the case, artists would fizzle out, and the amount of art being collected would diminish significantly.

As an artist who would love for my work to be widely collected, and also as someone who has been a collector, I recognize the pull between wanting to stay true to your interests and also wanting to uplift others.

It’s really difficult. There are so many grifters, scammers, manipulators, and people who see every collector as little more than a walking ATM. This environment makes those who are willing to collect feel distrustful and often jaded. When someone reaches out their hand, it’s tough to know whether they’re asking for money or just genuinely wanting to shake yours.

I can empathize with both sides. I understand the desperation to put food on the table, or the feeling that your art isn’t valued by those who collect. And I also understand feeling pressure to collect when you don’t want to, or when you simply aren’t interested in the work. Doing it just for the sake of support and not for the art can feel disingenuous at times.

In terms of community, when we think about what a collector is collecting, our minds immediately focus on the whales, the wealthiest individuals with the means to collect. But in reality, most of an artist’s collector base consists of smaller retail like collectors, people often just trying to get by, like you and me. Most collectors who buy from artists aren’t wealthy, or at the very least aren’t financially secure enough to be consistently supportive.

This is especially important to remember because despite how integral art is to the foundation of society, it’s also a luxury in many instances. Few people can comfortably put both food on the table and art on the wall.

The artist and collector dynamic is symbiotic in many ways. If we want to foster that dynamic in a healthy way, there needs to be more understanding and less invalidation on both sides. We all need each other for art to thrive.