Galleries against art

Galleries are no longer betting on art. They only make money.

There was a time -not so long ago- when an artist could dream of entering a gallery and finding something like a home there. Not just a place to hang their work, but an ally: someone willing to take risks, invest in production, promote, introduce their work in public and private collections, help build a career. Sometimes even a friendship.

Today, that model barely survives in a few rare exceptions. In its place, an industry has emerged that behaves more like white-walled real estate: it rents space, demands exclusivity, takes 50% of every sale, and barely bothers to represent the artist outside of their Instagram. Because if you sell, fine, and if you don’t, someone else will come along.

In the Renaissance, artists were protected by patrons who saw art as a transcendental value. Lorenzo de’ Medici not only supported Michelangelo, but invested in his training, hosted him in his house, introduced him to the court. The relationship between artist and patron was symbiotic, though unbalanced, yes; but there was a shared vision of the power of art as a reflection of the times.

Today, the gallerist has almost completely disassociated himself from that figure. In cities like Madrid, it is common to find art spaces whose managers spend the day sitting behind a desk, looking at their cell phones, waiting for something (or someone) to happen. No curated proposals, no solid calendar of activities, no search for new audiences or dialogue with other contexts. The artist sends the work at his own expense, he hangs it himself, and in many cases he is not even paid for the transport if the piece is not sold.

The galleries no longer buy, now they only work on a deposit basis. You give me the work, and if I sell it you get part of it, and if I don’t, it will be here for years without you being able to sell anything anywhere else.

The irony is that many of these spaces continue to demand a 50% commission. For “giving visibility”. As if that were fair or enough.

 

But the story is changing. Because artists no longer rely exclusively on a gallery to reach the public. Today, a creator can have hundreds of thousands of followers on social networks, sell directly from his or her studio, receive international commissions and generate community without intermediaries.

Platforms such as Instagram, Behance, Patreon or even TikTok have allowed many artists to become their own promoters, managers, curators and gallery owners. And although this implies an extra effort -yes, not everything is painting- it also opens a path of freedom.

American artist Mark Ryden, for example, has publicly stated that he prefers to control his production and relationship with collectors from his own studio, without relying exclusively on galleries. Even more radical is the case of Ashley Longshore, a contemporary pop artist who built her entire career selling directly through networks, with a waiting list of clients and no 50% commissions. In her words: “The galleries wanted me to be quiet and obedient. I prefer to be my own brand.

And the truth is that, with a cell phone, any artist can show his or her work to the whole world. Without going through the chair of the gallery owner who, between yawns, waits for someone to come through the door.

 

It is not about demonizing all galleries. There are, even today, committed spaces that continue to bet on art and artists. But they are a minority. And as long as most of them continue to operate as luxury decoration stores, demanding exclusivity without offering commitment, the artist must ask himself if that is the structure he really needs.

Today, more than ever, art can circulate in other ways. It can live in independent fairs, in self-managed exhibitions, in digital platforms, in nomadic markets, in private collections built on the basis of direct conversations.

 

What if the artist stopped waiting to be “discovered”? What if he became his own gallery? What if he organized his own exhibitions, sold his works, made community with other creators, without going through the 50% toll?

Maybe not everyone wants to or is able to do it, and that’s fine with me. But it is essential that we know that the option exists. That we have the means. That we are no longer tied to the whims of whoever owns a clean room and a client list.

The art market is in crisis. But that is not new. What is new is that the artist, today, has more power than ever to redefine the rules.

So don’t sell your dignity at 50%. Art is not a decorative object or a financial asset. It is an act of expression. And whoever creates it also deserves to decide how it is displayed, how it is sold and to whom.

Art will be saved if the artist is saved first.

Bran Sólo. Mayo-2025