I have been asked more often than I care to remember, as I am sure all gallerists have, how I decide which artists to represent. It is the question artists, collectors, art enthusiasts, and even art-skeptics wonder alike. The answer is both easy and complex.
From the outside, the process can seem secretive, even arbitrary. For me, it is intuitive and deliberate at once—guided by vision, connection, and respect for the work. I know what I like, but taste alone cannot drive decisions. If galleries were built only on personal preference, they would be little more than private collections. A gallerist’s role is to champion art that resonates with others, sparks dialogue, and can grow over time.
Every gallery has its own personality. Mine is rooted in curiosity for contemporary voices that engage with culture, society, and identity. I look for artists whose practice adds something new to these conversations. Fit matters, not because one artist is “better” than another, but because coherence gives a gallery strength.
The most compelling artists, for me, are those who must create—whose work feels inseparable from who they are. That urgency matters more than trends or marketability. When art comes from a genuine need to communicate, it carries an authenticity that cannot be manufactured.
Craftsmanship is equally vital. Inspiration alone is fleeting; it’s the discipline, skill, and hours of work that give art depth. When I look at a piece, I want to feel the spark of the idea and the labor that brought it to life. Does it move me? Surprise me? Draw me back again and again? Beauty—whether in harmony, tension, or raw honesty—still matters to me, but it must be more than surface.
Marbella’s international audience gives me freedom to take risks. A diverse public means not everyone will like every piece, which is strangely liberating. I remind artists: it’s not about pleasing everyone, but finding those who truly connect with your work.
One of the strongest trends I see today reflects this: a growing demand for local art. More and more, I notice a shift—not only toward international names but also toward artists deeply rooted in the region. It’s a reminder that art is not just global—it is profoundly local, reflecting the histories, emotions, and cultural codes of its own community.
Local art brings something unique: authentic stories that resonate, a sense of identity and connection, and fresh perspectives that balance global prestige with local relevance. I believe this movement will only grow stronger. As people search for meaningful connections, local art offers a bridge between global vision and regional authenticity.
Of course, running a gallery is not only about vision. Exhibitions, shipping, deadlines, and art fairs demand reliability and commitment. But professionalism is also about connection. Representation is a collaboration, built on trust and mutual respect.
Recognition matters; exhibitions, residencies, critical writing; but what excites me more is projection: the sense that an artist’s journey is still unfolding. If I find myself eager to see their next work, that is a sign of vitality and longevity. Many collaborations begin organically, a studio visit, a recommendation, or even a chance meeting. Sometimes I follow an artist’s practice for years before working together. Timing is everything.
At the end of the day, I choose artists whose work I believe in so strongly that I want to dedicate time, energy, and resources to helping it find the right audience. Representation is not just business; it is a partnership, built on shared purpose and trust.
For artists seeking representation, my advice is simple: don’t chase every gallery. Find the ones that align with your work and values. Approach them with honesty and patience, and above all, keep creating art that is true to you. What every gallerist looks for, in the end, is art that matters—born from the need to be expressed and supported by the craft that makes it endure.
And one last reminder: every gallery has a limited number of exhibitions each year. Sometimes I encounter artists I truly admire, but the program is already full. That doesn’t mean rejection—it’s often just timing. Patience is part of this journey—for both the artist and the gallerist.
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