A student recently asked me how to price some of their art. It’s a question we get a lot at Radius Gallery too. Most artists are notoriously shy about asking for money in return for their creative outputs. Trying to place a value on our sweat and tears isn’t easy. Natural instinct says try and figure out how long it took to make. Multiply that by an arbitrary hourly rate, add in some costs like raw materials, studio overheads, perhaps framing and BAM a magic figure appears! But if you price your art solely like a contractor installing a kitchen bench, you’re missing a much bigger picture at play.
The reality is pricing art is a complex dance between tangible costs and human psychology. As with most things in our Western capitalist society prices vary wildly, and there are many competing forces to consider. The reason one painting costs $500 while an apparently similar one commands $10,000 comes down to some hidden realities that have very little to do with production time, let’s take a look at a few.
Gallery and context is really important. If a gallery is involved in an art sale, their commission fees can range from 30% to 50% and become an important element. While we all baulk at commissions, it’s important to consider that many retail environments like clothes, make-up or furniture add well over 100%. The only items that are traditionally less are discretionary items like food. While some artists sell directly from studios, a physical gallery space brings more than just a cut of the profit, it builds a significant perceived value. Factors like the gallery’s physical location, their stable of established artists, and their historic sales records heavily dictate the price tag too.
A painting hanging in a prestigious metro space instantly adds an authority and cache via its environment. When context changes from a hobby or weekend project to a serious cultural artifact worthy of attention the price jumps accordingly. Plus the artist doesn’t have to deal directly with money or selling their wares, two things I’ve observed they usually hate doing!
Why the art is being purchased is also an important factor. This might sound obvious but it’s actually complex. If you look through the eyes of a collector versus a friend supporting your art the reasons are vastly different, which fundamentally shifts what they are willing to pay.
Aesthetics is a common driver for everyone. Perhaps the work is being purchased to elevate a home or office, to match a sofa, or to evoke a feeling. The buyer is paying for a specific visual harmony. One of the most common statements I’ve heard in the gallery is “Oh I love it, but I couldn’t live with it!”.
Because art has a reputation for suddenly becoming incredibly valuable over time some people buy with speculation in mind, especially collectors. In fact most people have a lingering gambling type thought happening, “Oh look they’ve sold a bit of work” is another comment I hear when we’ve had busy shows, this excitement sometimes translates to more purchases! The fact is us humans don’t like to miss out, especially if there might be a dollar to be made.
Collectors scrutinise sales records. If an artist has consistently sold out past exhibitions, a psychological phenomenon known as social proof kicks in. High demand plus limited availability equals an escalating price.
When prices start to jump art quickly becomes more of a luxury item, demand escalates and the art becomes a status symbol. That’s exactly why there’s a very limited amount of some brands of handbags, watches and even sneakers! When market forces come into play things change a lot. It’s less to do with the number of hours spent making the work and more to do with reputation, demand, scarcity, and the story surrounding both the artwork and the artist.
There’s a lovely piece of urban folk lore that Pablo Picasso famously sketched a drawing for a woman on a napkin and demanded a fortune for it. When she protested that it only took him two minutes, he reportedly replied, “No, it took me forty years.” He was already famous and knew the perceived value of everything he did.
In the art world price is rarely determined by labour alone, it’s a reflection of what collectors, audiences, and the market believe an artwork is worth. Some artists don’t even start by charging at all for their art. Banksy is probably the best example of this. His art began on the streets illegally. He totally rejected the gallery system by releasing limited edition screen prints privately via a company called “Pest Control”. His marketing was street walls. His distribution was his own.
All of these thoughts were inspired by a discourse with one of my students, but I’m unsure if I clearly answered their question. The advice I left them with was to think differently about everything. The art world is ready for its next big shake up, perhaps it’s you?
