Why buy art directly from the artist?

Buying art directly from the artist is not the only way to collect art.

Galleries, fairs and curated platforms all have their place. I have also had very good experiences working with galleries. But buying directly from the artist offers something specific.

You come closer to the practice behind the work. The studio. The choices. The material decisions. The doubts. The pieces that stayed, changed, disappeared under a new layer or were deliberately left alone. That closeness can matter. Especially when you are choosing a work that may become part of your daily life.

You can ask about the work itself

When you buy directly from the artist, you can ask questions that go beyond size and price. You can ask about material, framing, shipping, availability, or the series a work belongs to. You can ask why a certain figure returns, where a colour came from, or what made a piece shift direction.

Sometimes the answer is practical. Sometimes it opens another way of looking. Not every story needs to be explained completely. But context can help you see more. Or at least see differently.

You know where the work comes from

I always find it interesting to visit the studios of other artists and see finished paintings alongside studies, experiments and works that are still in progress. Sometimes you begin to understand why an artist made certain choices simply by seeing what else is happening in the studio. That is something I enjoy sharing about my own practice too.

Personal, but still clear

Buying directly from the artist does not mean everything has to become overly emotional or vague. Price, availability, framing, payment, shipping or collection can be discussed without pressure. If a work is available, I can tell you. If it needs careful transport, I can explain that too. If you need time to think, that is part of the process.

A work can move quickly into a new home. Or it may stay where it is. Both are fine. A studio visit comes with no obligation.

Every collector has a different story

One of the things I enjoy about selling my work is how different my collectors are. Some I meet personally, while others I never meet at all because a gallery has brought us together through the work.

I remember a collector who visited Kunstschouw Zeeland. He spent several days exploring the exhibition, making notes in a little notebook about the works that caught his attention. He was looking for small landscapes, and one of my Icelandic Houses had made it onto his list.

Towards the end of the exhibition, he called to ask whether the painting was still available. It was, and he came to collect it himself. It was a beautiful sunny day. A few of us, the participating artists, were sitting outside enjoying a cup of tea. He joined us for a while, and we had a lovely chat. Afterwards, I carefully wrapped the painting for him.

Some time later, he sent me a photograph. He had had the work framed and hung it among the other pieces in his collection. I loved seeing how my little Icelandic House had found its place in his home.

Another encounter happened quite differently. I was visiting a shop run by a wonderfully colourful woman. We started talking about Instagram, exchanged accounts, and I told her about my work. She looked at my paintings online and spotted two small pieces that she felt belonged together.

She bought them there and then, online. The following day, I brought the works to her shop. I had carefully wrapped them in beautiful paper, and we unpacked them together. I must admit, I was a little nervous. She had only seen the paintings on a screen. What would she think when she saw them in real life? Fortunately, they were exactly what she had hoped for. A perfect match!

I love how differently these things can happen. One collector takes days to explore an exhibition, makes notes and returns for a particular painting. Another discovers two works during an unexpected conversation and decides almost immediately. And sometimes I never meet the collector at all. There is no single way in which a painting finds its new home. I rather like that.