‘Colorful Characters and Out-of-the-Box Thinkers’: Fillmmaker Debi Wisch on Building Her Vast Art Collection
Someone recently commented that our art collection is like a really great cocktail party. Whether this was intended as a compliment or a slight, I took it as high praise. Aren’t the best parties informative and inspiring, soulful and sinful and somewhat surprising? Guests cluster in unexpected combinations loosely linked by a shared sensibility that has more to do with a zest for life than the cause du jour. Nothing too overtly deliberate or contrived. If what my husband, Steven, and I have amassed over the past 25 years feels anything like a spirited cocktail party, I’ll drink to that.
Whatever the so-called collection is about, it is, for the most part, unguided by mission or scholarship. If we wanted the backdrop of our world to be an essay or a manifesto, the aesthetic would be much more linear, far less eclectic, and infinitely more focused. Beyond buying art made by living artists purchased from their primary dealers, the driving force has always been a deep desire to live a life filled with colorful characters and out-of-the-box thinkers. Championing fresh ideas and humanistic studies, even if they have little commercial appeal, appeals to us, too. And vacillating between conceptual and commercial, creative and creator, patron and producer is sort of my thing.
More from Robb Report
The Prince's Palace in Monaco Is Now Showcasing Recently Uncovered 16th-Century Frescoes
Princess Diana's Famous 'Black Sheep' Sweater Is Heading to Auction This Fall
A Ring of Thieves Was Just Charged With Stealing Warhols, Pollocks, and Jewelry Over Two Decades
I would be lying if I said that we pay no attention to the market. We never buy to sell, but we absolutely are tuned in to the art-world ecosystem. I find the valuing of art in a monetary sense both fascinating and nauseating. The market never leads our thinking, as it’s the most soulless way to engage with art. We prefer to be guided foremost by an indescribable mix of passion, ideas, and aesthetics. Will a new piece converse well with what we already own? Will it add another layer? Will we love it forever? That’s sort of the criteria. I overthink a lot of things in life but rarely the art. I prefer my approach to be less prescriptive and more welcoming.
Shortly after getting married in 1994, Steven and I moved to Hong Kong and witnessed a nation take off and an art market take shape. While he worked around the clock in finance, I spent endless hours exploring. My best friend was the artist Janis Provisor, who had left the New York art scene to start a wild-silk-carpet company called Fort Street Studio. We spoke nonstop about design, color, materials, and the art of it all, and she taught me a lot about the realities of being an artist and a fiercely independent thinker. She also has a magical way of mixing art and design that felt substantive and timeless yet inviting and cool. I wanted to create our version of that.
Back in New York in 1999, I was introduced to Carol Goldberg, a visionary collector and adviser, who became my art mentor. “We drive into the future using only our rearview mirror,” wrote Canadian philosopher and communications theorist Marshall McLuhan. Artists look ahead and see things before the rest of us. This was Carol’s mantra: Visit galleries, museums, and fairs and train your eye to see connections and find meaning. Go to lectures. Read books. Take courses. Immerse yourself in all of it. She encouraged me to get involved with arts education, where hopefully I could make an impact and observe ideas take shape. I worked with Carol for a few years formally, and then we became dear friends. Her imprint on me has been immeasurable, as art morphed into the prism through which I see the world. I got very involved with MFA programs at universities, in K–12 arts education, museum acquisition committees, and various arts organizations. While my taste has evolved over the years, the desire to support and engage with contemporary artists has been unwavering.
Observations along the way? The art world can feel especially murky because value is not measured per square inch and can change on a dime. A bad auction, a critical review, or an inexplicable shift in trends can push an artist off the cliff. Most rules are unwritten, and there are many of them. If you sell a work of art—which Steven and I almost never do—be mindful of the dealer who sold it to you, as relationships and transparency matter. Don’t be afraid to enter galleries. Most people aren’t buying anything, and many dealers welcome the opportunity to talk about art. Transactions typically happen in back rooms or over the phone. A gallery is sort of a cross between a museum and a high-end retail space. Although some things are for sale, they aren’t necessarily available for you to purchase. Access typically demands investing both time and money in relationships with dealers. If you are lucky enough to buy a coveted work, be prepared to loan it to exhibitions and support those exhibitions, too. Art should be shared.
As happens in other industries, what’s typically publicized in the art world are market extremes—and the most extreme characters on the scene. Connoisseurship and credentials are obscured by a lot of fluff, and sifting through it all requires effort. If you are legitimately interested in collecting art, invest time before money. Advisers can help navigate the landscape—some can even facilitate entrée, and the best ones can guide you toward finding your personal sensibility—but usually great collections are built by great collectors. Although these days we mostly buy from established galleries, my husband and I do buy from fairs featuring emerging artists and also from MFA-thesis exhibitions, even though we aren’t necessarily getting the best work. Artists generally take a while to develop, but karma is key and supporting artists when they most need it matters. I follow the auctions religiously but have yet to buy anything at one. I can count on a single hand the number of things we’ve sold over the years and on one finger those sold at auction. Auctions aren’t necessarily bad, but they represent a very different kind of party where commercial potential is the gateway to entry.
While our journey continues largely without an itinerary, lately I have been focused on the evolution of relationships. I frequently move things around, as it’s essential to keeping things current. And I often do so with my own blue tape, hammer, and hanging hooks as I agonize over placement. I want to encourage cross-generational conversations, unexpected relationships, and dynamic groupings. Of course, the overall environment should be visually engaging but not overwhelming. The chemistry of it all matters, but what matters most is curating the guest list so everyone who attends wants to stay for a while—and move around a bit, too.
Debi Wisch is an award-winning filmmaker based in New York whose productions include two films about the art world. She co-heads the art-advisory board at Hunter College and is on the boards of Young Arts, the Cantor Museum at Stanford University, and Film at Lincoln Center.
Best of Robb Report
Sign up for Robb Report's Newsletter. For the latest news, follow us on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.
