When someone begins to collect, or simply buy, art, the questions come quickly: What should I buy? Should I set rules, or hire an advisor? Should I focus only on the best-known names in the market, or on newcomers? Will this hold its value? These are natural questions, but too much analysis takes the magic out of it.
It helps to read and research the artists one likes or feels a connection with, with more study than analysis. Looking too much at what other people are buying or collecting tends to cloud that clarity of thought.
Buying art for the first time can be a daunting task.
Modern Indian art is a largely under-explored field, worth an open mind. Auction houses suggest there are only a few dozen artists of "value" who bring in the big prices, but that rule does not hold: a work of art is a piece of creativity and emotional expression, not an autograph, although the market has become increasingly name-driven. The view that only a few artists hold value misrepresents the talent and creativity of hundreds, if not thousands, of Indian artists. Modern Indian art and architecture make an illuminating comparison. M.F. Husain might be considered the artistic equivalent of the Taj Mahal, but just as there are hundreds of remarkable sites beyond the Taj, from city complexes and temples such as Hampi and Konark to smaller havelis in Rajasthan, each culturally important in its own way, there is more to India's art than its most famous names. This narrow view has raised only a few artists to prominence while many others went unrecognised. Academic research on Indian art remains minimal, and its institutions are underdeveloped: museums are under-resourced, with little archival material.
It is worth distinguishing a great artist from great art. Many well-known artists have also produced work of little interest, and the reverse is equally true: strong work is produced by less well-known artists. Too much attention goes to the name, not enough to the painting itself. Many capable artists remain unrecognised simply because they are not commercially prominent.
The best guide here is what one connects with: buy what provokes a response, what raises a question. Buying art is not a competition — owning the same name as a neighbour or friend has on their wall is no reason to own it too. In the absence of research, the market tends to default to the safety of well-known names, to art brands. The situation is improving, with more attention paid to artists who deserve recognition for their contribution to the growth of India's modern idiom, and it has grown somewhat better at distinguishing between works of varying quality by a single artist, though it remains far from able to properly value lesser-known artists.
There has been a sudden interest in lesser-known artists like Nikhil Biswas (1930–1966), who received little recognition during his lifetime, especially after doing well at a Sotheby's auction.
A work bought for a particular wall of a house will be seen daily. Art is a kind of silent conversation with the work, one that asks the viewer to set aside distraction so the painting can hold their attention. Paintings, like friends invited into a home, bring something lasting rather than merely pleasant: trust in their character, their authenticity, and a resonance with their energy. The same holds for a painting — it asks the viewer to look beyond the surface of "what it shows" into the more difficult question of "why", which is the purpose and character of any strong work.
Building any comprehensive art collection is a slow and ongoing process. It is a physical manifestation which gets stronger with time. There are two great moments - getting started & getting hooked.
The starting point can be tricky: a period of not yet knowing a painting, before hearing of Husain, Souza or Jogen, when a painting is purely an image without context. Visiting exhibitions, talking with artists, or doing one's own research begins to build points of connection. Getting hooked is the point at which passion tips into obsession — it happens gradually. In the end, it comes down to finding peace with buying only for the connection to the work itself. There comes a time when that connection matters more than the size of a collection, and it is rare for any single work to make a collection stronger rather than merely bigger.
Serigraphs offer an alternative for the first-time buyer, who can acquire a signed work by the artist without spending a fortune.
Walking into a gallery or art fair, among thousands of paintings, a particular work sometimes has the power to hold one's attention entirely — that is worth recognising.
Happy collecting.
Vinayak Pasricha