Most luxury purchases, including fine art, aren’t spontaneous. Yes, you may get a few sales by exhibiting in the right place at the right time. But talk to artists who have done shows for years, and you’ll hear about sales that came later.
Someone saw the work and felt something. They probably chatted with you about it, then went home and kept thinking about it, or maybe they told someone else.
Eventually, weeks, months, or even years later, an actual sale happened—all the more likely if you stayed in touch and kept the conversation going, even if it was one-sided, through newsletters, ads, and email.
For many artists, those later sales and the connections formed at a show are a substantial part of what makes exhibiting worthwhile. What happens during the show doesn’t tell the whole story. There are always exceptions, but I like to look for patterns. And then I like to look underneath them.
A few weeks ago on Older Artists, I wrote about “the thing beneath the thing.” It’s a way of looking below the surface of what happens. For me, it starts with curiosity.
I look for what motivates decisions and actions because that understanding helps me communicate with someone, show I get them and value them, and avoid judging them. That’s not slick sales technique; it’s showing decency, compassion, and respect. People can usually tell the difference between being worked and being understood.
In the decades I spent selling expensive advertising and trade show space, understanding people on a deeper level helped enormously. If all I understood was that someone wanted more business, I knew very little. Nearly everyone I talked with wanted that. What mattered was understanding what more business meant to that person and what they were willing to do to get it.
Who is this person? Why are they doing this? What’s their payoff? What has happened in their past that makes them see an opportunity—or a risk—the way they do?
I wasn’t asking those questions to judge their decisions or beliefs. I wanted to understand how they arrived at this point and made this decision. That understanding helped me work with them, especially if I hoped to retain them as a customer.
It has helped me throughout my life, too. Seeing people in this way gives me a broader understanding and more appreciation for who they are and how they became who they are.
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I knew what I wanted from a sales conversation: a full page of advertising and a booth, or two booths, at every show for the next year. Understanding that part was easy and obvious. But to help them decide to act on my offer, I needed to know why they would commit, or why they wouldn’t.
That latter part was just as valuable because if I knew why you would advertise but never exhibit, I could adjust my expectations and not waste time on things that would never happen. To get there, I needed to know what they believed would make the investment worthwhile.
I don’t just look at cause and effect. The result I wanted was obvious. What interested me was what led someone else to want that result, too. What was their payoff? What was their motivation?
You can apply that same curiosity to looking at what makes art sales happen. An artist shows a painting to a buyer. The buyer likes it and buys it. That’s the transaction, and we’re happy when it happens.
But how did that person end up standing in front of that painting? What made them interested enough to look? Had they seen the artist’s work before? Did someone suggest they stop by, or introduce them to the artist or the art? Do they have an affinity for your genre, or the messages your art implies?
The answers can tell you much more than the sales themselves.
If you’ve been at this for any length of time, think about where your sales have come from. You may recognize a pattern. Perhaps buyers return after seeing you at several shows. Maybe previous collectors introduce people to your work. You might have a friend who seems to know just when to mention your name.
Underneath that pattern is the thing beneath the thing. What caused those opportunities to develop? Who was involved before you knew there might be a sale?
I’ve been saying for years that everything good in an art career starts with a conversation. And conversations happen because we meet other people. We get acquainted, discover shared interests, and learn something about one another. Sometimes that leads to business. Often, we have no idea where it might lead.
When you look back at how someone became interested enough to open their wallet and buy your art, you may find that a relationship helped make it possible. You knew the buyer, or someone else helped bring them into your circle. They became aware of your work, came to appreciate it, and eventually wanted to own it.
That relationship wasn’t necessarily between you and the buyer at the beginning.
Someone can appreciate that you’re an artist, enjoy your work, and be glad to know you without ever becoming a customer. They may not be able to afford your art. They may have no room for another piece. Or what you make doesn’t suit their taste.
Suppose you paint abstracts, and someone you know loves Western art. Their home is full of horses, landscapes, and reminders of the places they’ve visited. Your work isn’t going over their fireplace. That’s fine. You can still know and like each other.
Then their dentist mentions decorating a new office or a condo. The dentist loves modern furniture and abstract art. Your Western-art-loving acquaintance says, “I know Barney. He’s a terrific abstract artist. You should look at his work.”
That person didn’t need to want your art to help it find someone who might.
You can’t predict every connection like that, and I wouldn’t want you to try. It would be exhausting to assess everyone you meet for their potential usefulness. But you can appreciate that people have a place in your life and your career beyond whether they’re likely to buy something.
You can also share enough about your work so others can recognize a connection when it comes along. If they know what you make and what interests you, they have something to remember and talk about.
I’m working on a new version of How to Find Art Buyers, and I’ll tell you more about it next week. After roughly a decade since I created the first version, I’ve returned to it with this question about the thing beneath the thing.
Most artists can’t successfully sell art through relentless persuasion. Some people have an unusual ability to pull that off, but they’re as rare as hen’s teeth, and what they do isn’t something another artist can repeat, and, respectfully, most would never want to try.
We can, however, better understand where our sales come from and how relationships make them possible. That’s what I’ve been looking at in this new version of the course. The relationships that support an art career extend well beyond the artist and the person who makes the purchase.
For now, think about a few of your own sales. Go back further than the moment someone agreed to buy. How did they find you? Who else was involved? What made them pay attention?
You might discover that someone who has never bought a thing from you has helped your art find its way more than you realized. Or you might recognize some patterns below the surface, connections and motivations that moved the sales dial in ways you didn’t see at first. That’s the thing beneath the thing at work.
We’ll talk more about this soon.
I’ll see you next week.
—Barney