Sarah Ryan discusses why she is establishing a foundation and the difficulties of managing a gallery that displays cutting-edge art
Bret Easton Ellis, a writer, once advised aspiring artists to simply marry a wealthy person. The line is true because, well, it is true. Ellis may be biased toward recognizing the darker logic of money and how it subtly influences results while acting as tho it doesn't, but in this instance, the statistics support the dire diagnosis.
There is no reliable talent-based sorting in the art market. It ranks people according to their ability to continue, maintain visibility, take on unpaid years, gain access to the appropriate rooms, and continue to be readable by collectors and institutions long enough for momentum to build. Just 7% of the exhibiting artists at the most recent Frieze London art fair were from working-class backgrounds, which is a startling statistic.
The claim that "talented working-class artists are being excluded" is not supported by this statistic (which would be terrible enough). It is saying something more difficult: before the market even gets to act like it is evaluating talent, the requirements for becoming an artist are already filtered by class. It is not talent that organizes. It is survival.
Introducing emerging art to the market.
In 2004, I started a gallery called New Blood Art because I saw a gap in the market between serious artists who were graduating from art school and buyers who needed a trustworthy filter to find thoughtful original work by reputable up-and-coming artists.
It wasn't enough for New Blood Art to identify artists before the market did. Instead, it gave collectors access, visibility, and credibility when there was no market for them.
Consider Georgia Dymock. We first met her at New Blood Art in 2020, shortly after she received her fine art graduate diploma from the University of the Arts London. We put the price of her painting Purple Pinch at 1,700. It sold for 23,940 at Phillips' "New Now" secondary market auction in April 2022, a fourteen-fold increase in less than two years. The fourteen-fold rise is remarkable. It's not the pattern.
Georgia Dymock and New Blood Art.
Georgia Dymock wrote Purple Pinch.
Over the course of 22 years, New Blood Art has seen numerous instances of artists who were initially exhibited or supported and went on to achieve significant commercial success. Would the subsequent traction have occurred in the same manner or at the same rate without that initial platform, credibility, access for collectors, and market context?
Without New Blood Art, we cannot be certain that those artists would not have gained recognition. However, the pattern over 22 years validates the question, and it becomes plausible to contend that early visibility, credibility, and accessibility for collectors significantly influenced the likelihood or speed of later traction, in addition to my early identification of serious artists.
What I learned over 22 years at New Blood Art.
Artists who have some sort of material protectionfinancial stability, housing security, advantageous location, and, most importantly, the ability to put in years of low-paying or unpaid laborare typically the ones who make it long enough to establish fulfilling careers. The majority of art students have debt when they graduate from college, need to work, and cannot afford the years it takes to establish an artistic career. Additionally, only a small number of people have the opportunity to tell the world's story when they are the only ones who can afford to continue. In the history of art, whose stories have we lost?
Early-stage work economics.
The second realization is commercial, and it's possible that it took me this long to realize this because New Blood Art started out more as an idealistic endeavor than a commercial one. Take a look at Dymock's 22,000 uplift. Under Artist's Resale Right, the artist might have received a small resale royalty, but the auction house and the early seller received the greater profit. Nothing went back to the platform that introduced and featured her.
This is the economics of early-stage work: while the benefits concentrate later, elsewhere in the market, the identification, advocacy, and development that truly forms careers carry ongoing costs. However, serious artists won't become more well-known if no one takes the initiative to launch them. Despite being structurally unpaid, the work is vital. In actuality, my gallery has served a public interest role that has never been reflected in the industry's economics.
Dividing New Blood Art in two.
There have also been personal expenses. It was no longer feasible to maintain an independent gallery without venture capital for 22 years while also carrying the development work of early-stage artists that the emerging art market does not adequately fund. I had to take a step back both personally and professionally. After downsizing and living in a Cornish fishing village for a while, I started to ask myself the difficult question of whether it was feasible to make money in the nascent art market while maintaining the principles that initially made the company worthwhile.
After this introspective 18-month period, clarity has emerged. I made the decision to divide the two types of work so that both could operate effectively because New Blood Art had been carrying too much within a single structure. With a tighter roster of contemporary artistsmany of whom we first encountered at their degree shows years agothe gallery has now shrunk, sharpened, and become more commercially focused. The Emerging Art Prize in partnership with Fine Art departments throughout the United Kingdom, artist development, mentoring, and, hopefully, studios and residencies are all part of the public interest and outreach work that the newly formed New Blood Art Foundation will undertake.
The price of autonomy.
The path to charitable status has been challenging and thought-provoking. It has compelled me to keep money, power, governance, and mission apart. A foundation that emerges from New Blood Art must be able to safeguard its own public-interest goals, particularly in situations where the commercial gallery and the Foundation coexist. It cannot merely be a more deserving branch of the gallery. That poses an awkward query. The Foundation is being established to assist artists who lack access to the art world, inherited networks, or financial support. However, serious governance also calls for patience, assurance, autonomy, and security. In addition to being structurally challenging, an unpaid independent chair is hard to locate.
The chair must be qualified in a specialized field, self-sufficient, available, dedicated, financially stable enough to work for free, and not financially or personally connected to either New Blood Art or myself. That pool is incredibly small.
A foundation established to address the reality that only the wealthy can maintain an artistic career discovers that only the wealthy can afford to run it. Similar to unpaid studio years, unpaid governance acts as a filter.
Infrastructure: artists.
The Foundation's long-term goal of establishing permanent bases throughout the UK is based on a trend that readers of BFIA will recognize from the real estate industry. In King's Cross, Peckham, Hackney Wick, and Deptford, developers have long employed artists to bring some warmth to these chilly neighborhoods. Artists come in. A creative presence increases foot traffic, buyer interest, cultural heat, and rising values. The artists are priced out of the value they contributed to when the studios close.
In addition to being unfair, that cycle is economically naive. Artists are not ornamental additions to renewal. They are frequently the source of the atmosphere, identity, and desirability that eventually turn into monetary value and can vanish if they are taken away. The enlightened version of that trade is to permanently anchor artists as cultural infrastructure, which retains its value where it was created. It is not philanthropic to house artists. It's an investment.
I want the Foundation to take advantage of this opportunity to create a system that recognizes artists as integral members of a community's long-term cultural and economic life. This is an opportunity for collectors, institutions, developers, and philanthropists to support up-and-coming artists in the workplace and infuse buildings and neighborhoods with vibrant cultural life.
Artists shouldn't only be utilized to bring life to abandoned urban areas. Since their presence is inspiring and generative rather than remedial, they ought to be integrated into areas of current power and value, such as Knightsbridge, the sq\. Mile, significant corporate buildings, and prime developments.
In a world shaped by AI, unique human creations will increase in value rather than decrease. This is an invitation to businesses, developers, and philanthropists to work with us to create environments in your buildings where cultural life is clearly taking place.
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