A beginner’s guide to buying art

Perceived barriers to entry often keep potential art collectors from taking the step beyond admiration to acquisition. Sometimes this results from neither liking nor understanding what’s available, but basic hurdles can involve learning how best to source and price what you are collecting — and the terminology can be daunting too.

In his latest book, How to Collect Art, art-market expert Magnus Resch puts forward the most comprehensive, clearly explained guide to art collecting that I’ve ever read. A best-selling author, an entrepreneur and an art collector himself, Resch not only teaches art management at Yale, but has written and commented on the art market for years. Perhaps his best-known book to date, 2021’s How to Become a Successful Artist, has been used by artists working at many levels. Resch’s new book addresses many of the practicalities involved in building an art collection, while challenging readers to think more deeply about their motivations for collecting in the first place.

Prospective buyers who know of my interest in art often show me an image of an object and ask my opinion. It typically turns out to be “consumer art,” like the mass-produced, framed prints readily available from home-design stores for a few hundred dollars. These images are usually printed on inexpensive paper that will deteriorate quickly — and what’s more, as anyone who knows even a little bit about wood- or metalworking can tell you, the frames themselves are inevitably cheaply made. For good measure, such items are often manufactured in countries that are generally opposed to freedom of expression — sadly ironic for an art object.

I ask Resch why he thinks people continue to buy these things, rather than seeking out more unique pieces, or at least acquiring objects that reflect a greater degree of personal involvement by an artist, photographer or printmaker.

“It boils down to two main reasons: oversupply and pricing,” he explains. “Many grapple with a fundamental question without finding a clear answer: what should I buy? The sheer abundance of art available overwhelms new buyers. In a market where only a select few artists enjoy brand recognition, people often gravitate toward familiar names. Furthermore, pricing plays a significant role. While first-time buyers may be willing to invest less than $1,000 in an artwork, the average price point in galleries hovers around $10,000. For many, most unique art is simply too expensive.”

Resch believes, however, that the common perception that price bars entry to art collecting is false.

“The notion that good art must come with a hefty price tag is fundamentally flawed,” he says. “I firmly believe that exceptional art can be acquired for less than $500. However, purchasing art requires a substantial investment of time to immerse oneself in as much art as possible. We refer to this as ‘training your eye,’ which entails attending gallery openings, following artists on Instagram and actively reaching out to artists whose work resonates with you.”

Collectors should go with what they like, keep within their budgets and do lots of homework, says Resch. In his book, Resch suggests that someone new to collecting art try not to buy anything for a year. Instead, he recommends taking that time to go to museums, galleries and online resources to see what’s out there and develop an interest, rather than just buying for the sake of buying.

“The best strategy for first-time buyers is to aim for purchases under $1,000,” he says. “At this price point, you’re unlikely to make a significant mistake. Approaching art buying is akin to picking up a new sport, just as when you start playing golf, you don’t need the best equipment right away — just some clubs to practice with. Similarly, with art, it’s essential to start modestly, expose yourself to various pieces and gradually refine your taste and preferences. By exploring a variety of artworks, making purchases at the lower end of the price spectrum and living with them for a while, a new collector gains experience and confidence. Then they can gradually buy higher-priced pieces.

“One crucial piece of advice,” Resch adds, is that “new buyers shouldn’t worry about making a ‘wrong’ decision with their first purchase. Every collector recalls their inaugural acquisition vividly. Personally, my first piece remains my favorite, and I cherish the moment I hung it on my wall. It was an exhilarating experience — one that inspired me to write my book. I want others to experience that same joy and satisfaction in their art-collecting journey.”

To make it a successful journey, Resch takes the reader through the many twists and turns of the art marketplace. His practical suggestions include hard data on just how valuable the global art market is (not as much as you think), how auction houses and galleries work and the perils of approaching art as an investment. He writes with a lucidity and sense of purpose that makes this book far more valuable than most commentaries exploring the folkways of the art world.

“I don’t adhere to a specific style or medium when collecting art,” says Resch. “Instead, I purchase pieces that personally resonate with me, fully aware that the likelihood of a financial return is minimal. This understanding is rooted in data that illustrates how art investment tends to yield returns primarily for a select group of artists represented by a handful of prestigious galleries, typically at higher price points. In fact, statistics reveal that just twenty artists contribute over 50 percent of the value in the contemporary art auction market, leaving the vast majority of artworks with limited investment potential.

“Instead of focusing solely on financial gains,” he goes on, “I adopt the concept of ‘responsible buying.’ This approach underscores the idea of viewing art acquisition as more than a financial transaction — it’s a philanthropic act and a source of personal fulfillment. Each piece I acquire carries a meaningful story and serves as a tangible reminder of the positive impact I’ve made in supporting artists, galleries and communities.”

You can see how this concept might be applied with relative ease to the work of living artists. But how would you go about engaging in “responsible buying” of the work of an artist who has been dead for a century or more? Resch believes that this entails getting to know the work of an artist or a school, and viewing the piece as part of an effort to preserve the cultural heritage that produced it.

In his book, Resch suggests that such appreciation can involve consideration of the artist’s motivation. “Art both reflects our time and shows us possibilities for what the future could be,” he writes. “Think about the artists you support. Do they envision a more equitable and inclusive future for everyone?”

Since I prefer older things and find much of both contemporary art and the thinking behind it unappealing, I find this line of reasoning possible to follow, but practically impossible to adopt. I love the work of Hieronymus Bosch, for example, not because it looks forward to a more equitable and inclusive future, but because it looks forward to the imposition of those chastisements we all so richly deserve. (Incidentally, I can highly recommend sharing this point of view at a cocktail party or gallery opening should you wish to be left in peace.)

I ask Resch what he would recommend, then, to a potential collector who isn’t interested in contemporary art but in that of the past, or what he would suggest to someone who is interested in contemporary artists whose works they find aesthetically beautiful or personally meaningful, regardless of the philosophy behind them.

“Buying art is deeply personal,” Resch admits, “and there’s no definitive right or wrong approach as long as the artwork resonates with the collector. However, my aim is to empower collectors with knowledge so they can make informed decisions. I advocate for conducting a small level of research to avoid potential pitfalls, such as overpaying for a piece or unintentionally supporting an artist whose values conflict with their own. Ultimately, the decision about which piece to acquire rests with the collector, ensuring that the artwork aligns with their preferences and values.”

This of course leads to larger questions, such as making judgment calls on aesthetic value. In the book, Resch flatly rejects the notion that we should engage in this kind of distinction when we are talking about the personal acquisition of art. “For our purposes the terms ‘good art’ and ‘bad art’ are irrelevant,” he writes. “Everything can be good or bad art. It’s all about the positioning, and it’s highly subjective, so don’t listen to anyone when buying art. Whatever you like is good art.”

I ask whether that means that Jeff Koons’s statue of Michael Jackson and Bubbles the Chimp is not objectively a better or worse work of art than, say, Michelangelo’s “Pietà.”

“Art is subjective,” Resch maintains, “and what one person considers great, another may not. Many are willing to invest millions in artworks by Jeff Koons, while showing little interest in pieces by masters like Michelangelo, and vice versa. The art world often relies on a select group of influencers to determine what is deemed ‘good art.’ This can lead to certain artists receiving acclaim while others are overlooked, regardless of their talent.

“However, just because an artist isn’t part of this influential network doesn’t mean they can’t create exceptional art,” Resch points out. “Many talented artists operate outside mainstream circles and deserve recognition. By raising awareness, we can help support artists who may not have access to traditional avenues of promotion and ensure that artistic merit is recognized regardless of location or connections.”

Perhaps more than almost any other category you may choose to collect, art has a meaning and a purpose that goes far beyond questions of rarity or utility. It’s why collecting art can be both meaningful to the individual and marked by a sense of pursuing a greater purpose on behalf of a wider community. “I truly believe that as a society we will grow more if people buy art and live with it in their homes,” Resch writes near the end of his book. It’s a statement with which I can wholeheartedly agree.

How to Collect Art is now available from Phaidon. This article was originally published in The Spectator’s August 2024 World edition.