The Groove 250 - The Art Collector's Edge: Power, Access, Taste
Welcome to the 250th issue of The Groove.
I am Maria Brito, an art advisor, curator, and author based in New York City.
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THE ART COLLECTOR’S EDGE: POWER, ACCESS, TASTE
A hallway in one of my client’s homes. From left to right: Raul de Nieves’s mixed media, Sam Gilliam’s watercolor on rice paper, and Alex Katz’s monumental oil-on-canvas.
Power in the art world used to move in straight lines: old hierarchies, old money, old gatekeepers. It doesn’t anymore. It’s widely allocated, fast, and uncertain. That’s great news if you have curiosity and discipline, and terrible news if you only have FOMO.
As I told the Observer last week, who included me in their list of the most influential people in art, “Power has become more distributed and far less predictable… influence now moves through new collectors, new media and access to quality works.”
For 250 issues, I’ve used this newsletter week after week to make art and the art world legible: what matters, what’s noise, and how to act (or refuse to). The idea is simple: democratize knowledge without diluting excellence.
But the truth is that the art market is a maze built by poets and priced by paddles. Last year the market still moved $57.5B worth of art, down 12% from 2023 but with more transactions than the year before. Translation: fewer fireworks at the top, but plenty of action in the tiers where smart collectors actually build collections.
The Next Gen
The last ten years killed the myth that power is a fixed address. New collectors are Millennial and Gen Z, global, and values-driven. They move taste faster than the old dinner-party network ever did.
Technology accelerated visibility but not judgment; everyone can see what’s hot, but few can tell you what’s good. That gap between visibility and discernment is exactly where I operate. My role is to bridge worlds, combining knowledge, data, relationships and intuition.
What does that mean for a serious person who wants to collect art? Less urgency, more precision. Trophy chasing is out; strategic depth is in.
Here’s the practical reality behind the romance of the art world: my work is to separate fashion from significance, and access from noise. That’s why an advisor isn’t a flex but part of a legit infrastructure.
When you’re navigating thousands of galleries, a jittery auction landscape, and a secondary market full of “friend of a friend” promises, judgment and relationships are not optional but how you get the right work at the right price.
Collecting Is the Best Long Game
Art collecting is one of the most exciting things a person can do. It pays in four ways at once: aesthetically (your eye gets sharper), culturally (you join the conversation), emotionally (you live with meaning every day), and, if you know what you’re buying and why, financially over the long run. The emphasis is on long. Taste compounds. So does discernment.
No one builds a great collection alone.
The best collections in history were collaborations between a collector and dealer/advisor/curator. Joseph Duveen and Henry Frick, Hilla Rebay and Solomon Guggenheim, Emily Brown and Leonard Lauder- these are just a handful of examples where ambition met guidance, and love of art met structure.
A worthwhile collaboration protects you from “good enough,” spots the best-period example, knows when not to buy and avoids costly mistakes.
The Pain Points of Entering the Art Market
There are at least 400 good galleries worldwide to buy from directly at all price points, without entering into the details of what’s excellent and what’s just okay. This is not counting the hundreds of more secondary market dealers and dozens of auction houses operating in major and not-so-major cities.
Could you navigate that alone? Sure… if you quit your job and make it your full-time occupation. For everyone else, the “open” art world is a labyrinth with expensive dead ends.
The other hurdles:
• Access is political at the primary market level (directly from the artist to the gallery with you as the first owner). Great galleries place with intent. Lists exist. Bureaucracy exists. It isn’t impossible but it is a game.
• Auctions aren’t beginner friendly. Fees, reserves, guarantees. Transparency without understanding the environment is still a trap.
• Secondary market (an artwork resale from prior ownership) is a roulette. A “friend of a friend” deal can be magic or a 2022 peak-of-the-cycle fantasy price in 2025 clothing.
• Time poverty. In normal weeks I receive 30 show previews; during major fairs, I get 30–50 a day. You shouldn’t have to triage PDFs like air-traffic control to build a thoughtful collection.
• What you can’t Google. The right studio visit; the early, un-PDF’d consignment; the piece that should be a “no” even if you can get it.
You want to buy works that still feel right when the tide turns. You want museum shows, not mood boards. You want joy without regret.
The Fix
I do three things obsessively: open doors, filter noise, and protect you from avoidable mistakes.
1. Open doors. I get you into the rooms where the right works actually move. This is often before the press release and without performative hoops. Placement matters on both sides; yours and the gallery. I speak both languages fluently.
2. Filter noise. I use a three-look test that works for primary and secondary market:
• First look (heart): Do you truly respond to it? Would you live with it and still love it in five years?
• Second look (the work itself): Is this the right example?
o Primary: Is it a standout piece with strong motif/scale/color, not a studio leftover? Does it represent what the artist will be known for, not just what’s available?
o Secondary: Is it from the right period and series, well made, and in strong condition? Are there no hidden surprises in the report?
• Third look (context):
o Primary Price reality: The number is set by the gallery. Peer checks (same-stage artists with comparable institutional support/scale/medium) can help, but beware apples-to-oranges and hype-based comps. Is the gallery financially solid and pacing supply (not flooding)? Do they steward placements and support the artist’s long game?
o Secondary: Do recent comps (by period/medium/scale) support the ask? Is the provenance clean?
If it doesn’t clear all three (heart, work, context), we move on or we wait.
3. Protect the downside. I “price-truth” every offer (artist career, quality of the gallery, real comps, condition, provenance, total cost). I’ll tell you when not to buy. Restraint is a service.
I also train your eye with field trips, shortlists, studio visits, fairs, auctions, and backrooms so every decision gets easier and your collection gets stronger.
The Sum is Bigger Than the Parts (How Coherent Collections Create Value)
Last week I wrote about Exquisite Corpus, a tightly focused trove of Surrealism assembled by music producer Nesuhi Ertegun and his wife Selma over years with discipline and taste; a living example of how a clear thesis multiplies value. A strong collection is a built argument: when the through-line is sharp, the market recognizes the composition, not just the line-items.
Look at the headline lot: Frida Kahlo’s El sueño (La cama) (1940), estimated at $40–60M and coming up for sale this week. The Erteguns bought this painting at Sotheby’s in 1980 for $51,000 (that’s around $197,000 today, a number that collectors normally pay for young and mid-career artists). The return that the sale of this painting can yield is astounding, but the remarkable feature is the context of where it lived and the length they held it for: a gorgeous Surrealist ensemble that makes perfect sense together.
That’s the lesson I want every collector to internalize: buy with a thesis, enforce standards, and place works in contexts that amplify them. You’ll save time, avoid regret, and most importantly build something that doesn’t need the trend cycle’s permission to matter.
Taste Is an Operating System, Not a Scrapbook
Taste doesn’t come from refreshing Instagram; it comes from context. Nothing exists in a vacuum. When we visit museums, we draw parallels between what’s being made today and the movements that shaped it. When you know where a work sits, your eye stops mistaking fashion for significance. That’s intellectual integrity: loving a work for reasons that hold when the market goes up or down.
I don’t offer hype or shortcuts. I work with serious people to build collections that endure.
If you’re at a point where you want rigor, perspective, and access, you’re welcome to reach out. I take on a small number of new clients each year, and prioritize people who care about the long game.
If this newsletter resonates with where you are in your journey as a collector, feel free to email me. I’m always happy to talk art with thoughtful people.