The Art Collector’s Starter Kit: Curiosity Required, Millions Optional
The Diary of an Art Advisor
It’s been a surprisingly busy summer as an art advisor. Magpie’s Eye is still running at TCHC Gallery, Irini Karayannopoulou’s Anatomia Humana II is live on Artsy, and I’ve been working with a major Detroit collection to open up some of their extraordinary works in the viewing room Strange Frequencies (also on Artsy). The artist surfboards continue to gather momentum - a Wimbledon event last month was really enjoyable - and a new one is coming soon with a brilliant Christina Barrera work. And I’ve been deep in planning Soft Grip, a group show with General Assembly opening in September, bringing together a brilliant selection of painters. More on that soon.
Not everyone spends their summer knee-deep in exhibitions, viewing rooms and shipping logistics. The art world can still feel like a closed circle - often seen as an elite pursuit when, in truth, it should belong to everyone. That’s something I’ve touched on before, but Jeff Magid’s recent newsletter on the dangers of focusing solely on VIP collectors was a timely reminder.
Magid argues that putting the future of art in the hands of a few mega-patrons is a risky strategy - especially when some of them aren’t exactly benevolent. He makes the case that art’s future depends not on the benevolence of VIPs and billionaires, but on people getting involved at all levels: buying work they genuinely love, at prices they can afford, and becoming part of the art ecosystem without having to wait for an invitation to someone else’s banquet.
It’s a sentiment I share. And for those who’ve been thinking about dipping a toe in, there’s no better time than now - the market is in the middle of a reset, and new collectors are more important than ever. Which brings me to offer a very straightforward, no-jargon beginner’s guide to collecting art.
The art world doesn’t make it easy. For all the talk of accessibility and openness, walking into a gallery for the first time can feel like stepping onto the set of a play you haven’t read. Everyone else seems to know their lines, where to stand, what wine to drink, what price bracket to hover in. You, meanwhile, are clutching a tote bag and wondering whether you’re meant to ask the price or just divine it from the aura of the room.
Here’s the first thing to understand: everyone started somewhere. No one is born knowing how to collect art. Taste, like muscle tone or tolerance for tannins, is built over time. And collecting isn’t about being rich or clever or connected (although those can help). It’s about looking and choosing - saying yes to something that speaks to you, and living with that decision in a way that changes how you see the world.
So, here is the Blackbird Rook guide to starting your art collection. Not someday, but now.
1. Forget the Word 'Collector' (For a Bit)
Let’s drop the word entirely for a moment. It’s freighted with images: hedge-funders with Basquiats, blue-chip auctions, aggressive bidding at Frieze. But collecting can begin with a single work - a drawing, a print or a painting that costs less than a weekend away. What matters isn’t quantity or prestige, it’s commitment. Collecting starts the moment you decide to bring a piece of art into your life and treat it as more than decoration.
Call yourself an appreciator, an accumulator or a magpie. The labels don’t matter - the act does.
2. Go and See
You can’t develop taste from a screen alone. Instagram is brilliant - I use it every day - but it flattens everything. You need to see scale, surface, awkwardness and presence. You need to be able to look at a painting and feel your own uncertainty. So, go to shows. Not just the big ones - try artist-run spaces, project spaces, degree shows, art fairs and open studios. Get used to the range of things being made and try to notice what you keep thinking about on the train home.
The first part of collecting is looking. Look at a lot and look with curiosity and intellectual generosity - not the pressure to buy. You’re not shopping, you’re sharpening your eye.
3. Ask Questions. Stupid Ones Are Best
If you don’t know how something is made, then ask. If you don’t understand the price, ask. If you feel confused, say so. A good gallerist, advisor or artist will welcome your curiosity. If someone makes you feel small for not knowing something, then walk away -they’re an idiot and bad at their job.
Try:
"Can you tell me more about how this was made?"
"Is this part of a series or a standalone piece?"
"What’s the price – and is that framed or unframed?"
"How does this artist usually work?"
You’re not just learning about the work - you’re learning about your own preferences.
4. Buy Something Small
Your first piece doesn’t have to be major. It shouldn’t be. It should be something manageable, personal, intriguing: a small painting, work on paper or a print. Prints are an excellent place to start - not reproductions, but original prints: etchings, lithographs, screenprints, monotypes. These are hand-processed works, often in editions, made directly by or under the supervision of the artist. They carry all the intention and craft of painting but at a lower price point.
Don’t worry whether it’s an "investment". Worry whether you want to look at it every day. Investment comes later – and more often than not, only when you’ve trained your taste against your instincts over time.
5. Know What You’re Paying For
When you buy a work, you’re not just buying the object. You’re buying time - the artist’s time in making it, and your own time in thinking about it. You’re buying into a conversation, a worldview, a history. But ask what’s included:
Is the work framed?
Is there an edition certificate?
Will the gallery arrange delivery?
Is there VAT or shipping on top?
If you’re buying through an advisor (like me), you should also know what their fee includes. I typically include viewing appointments, introductions to galleries and artists, support on shipping and hanging, and detailed advice on what fits your tastes and goals.
6. Think in Themes, Not Trends
The best collections reflect obsessions. A collector I know only buys works that include an element of cartooning. Another is fascinated by ambiguous human figures. A third collects only from female artists.
Your theme might not be explicit, and it might only reveal itself over time, but start paying attention to the threads that connect the works you love - even if the thread is simply "makes me feel slightly spooked in a good way."
My point is that you should ignore trends and what’s hot lists. By the time it’s in a fair booth at Basel, it’s already on someone else’s spreadsheet. You’re not here to follow. You’re here to see.
7. Build Relationships
You’re not just collecting art. You’re collecting people – artists, curators, advisors, gallerists. Reach out and talk to them. Be open about your interest and your budget. The best collections are built through conversations, over years. You don’t have to attend the social events if they make you uncomfortable, but it always helps to have personal connections.
If you’re worried about not being taken seriously, don’t be. What gallerists and advisors really want is genuine interest. We’re far more excited by someone open to the conversation than by a millionaire with no curiosity. Knowledge comes with time - enthusiasm is what matters.
8. Let the Work Teach You
Once you’ve bought your first piece, live with it. See how your feelings shift. The joy of collecting is that your walls become a record of your own changing eye - not frozen in time, but evolving. Some works will grow. Others might fade. That’s fine, and that’s how you learn.
9. Keep Records
Start as you mean to go on. For every piece, keep: the invoice or receipt; the Certificate of Authenticity (if applicable); provenance notes (who you bought it from, date, context); and any press, catalogues, or statements from the artist. It will make future valuations, insurance, or resale infinitely easier, and, more importantly, it documents your journey.
10. Work With an Advisor (Optional, But Helpful)
A good advisor doesn’t just help you buy - they help you see. They filter, contextualise and introduce. They stop you buying mediocre work at inflated prices and they ask what your walls look like, what your bookshelf holds, what excites you. They match you with artists whose work will mean something.
That’s what I do at Blackbird Rook. I work with collectors who are just starting, as well as those expanding. My goal is always the same: help you build a collection that matters - to you first, and to others later.
11. Don’t Wait Until You’re 'Ready'
You’ll never know enough. You’ll never have read everything, seen everything, understood every technique. That’s part of the point. Art collecting isn’t a test, it’s an ongoing conversation. You become ready by beginning, so start small, start now, start with what pulls at your eye and doesn’t let go.
12. One Last Thought: It’s Meant to Be Enjoyable
Collecting can be profound, and it can be a cultural responsibility, a personal archive, a future bequest, but it’s also really satisfying and addictive. It’s the delight of discovering something new and deciding, with a small gesture of faith and money, to make it part of your life. Don’t let the art world’s intimidating surface get in the way of that. Ask questions, make mistakes, laugh and stand too close and say the wrong thing. That’s how you find your way in. And if you need someone to walk with you, I’m here.