Collecting Stories: A Modern British Man
Founded with the principles of access and community, CURA Art utilises a broad network and expertise to support collectors with all aspects of managing their passion and investment.
Whilst many of the collectors we know and work with choose to remain private, several have generously allowed us to share their stories with you, to inspire others and encourage open discussion on the role of the collector in the 21st century. The aim of the Collecting Stories series is to de-mystify the world of collecting, but also represent the many different approaches to acquiring and patronising the arts.
Collecting is so much more than amassing beautiful or interesting works of art and objects; collectors have the opportunity to invest in the future and document the past and present – through this series we hope to bring this to light.
Our services complement and expand those offered by galleries and advisors, and they often recommend us to collectors. In this instance, we met collector Antony Wright through the recommendation of the Redfern Gallery, where we had both worked. His collection focuses on the Modern British movement, and here we find out more about his passion for this genre and what inspired his collecting.
When did your interest in art begin? Were your family collectors or art enthusiasts?
I come from a working-class background in Hackney, (before it was suitably gentrified!) and did not grow up with any real notion of art as something that belonged in people’s homes. I did however begin regular trips to the Tate in my teens and am still struck today by how civilizing it is that these museums are free in London, so any kid like me can wander in and discover. In my teens, I found a library book on David Hockney and that blew my mind, the freedom, the sexuality, the humanity made me read it over and over wishing I was in the Hollywood Hills on a rainy day in London. The fact that a boy from Bradford made it into this lavish world was a constant encouragement!
Image: Cleanliness is next to godliness, by David Hockney, courtesy of AW.
Scientific research supports the idea that collecting is in our nature, and something inherent in us that is apparent and encouraged when we’re children by the likes of collectable toys or exchangeable cards like Pokémon. Did you collect objects as a child (like shells from the beach, comic books etc)?
As a child, I can’t think of anything I collected apart from a massive collection of Subbuteo teams, these are small plastic footballers and I liked to get the kits for obscure foreign clubs that felt very exotic. I wish I still had them!
How and when did you start collecting art?
Just after university, I became very interested in post-war British art and culture and bought some Keith Vaughan drawings from Richard Selby at the Redfern Gallery, that really began my odyssey into collecting. They were a few hundred pounds, a fortune to me at the time, but Richard was incredibly patient and showed me lots of fascinating things. I recently bought an expensive Keith Vaughan painting from Redfern, illustrating the value of finding time for young collectors and enthusiasts.
Image: Taken by CURA Art in the home of AW.
This is certainly a subject close to our hearts too, we feel that collecting should be supported and encouraged from the outset, which is why we speak on the subject of collecting to Christie’s Education’s ‘Young Collectors Club’.
Did you consciously decide to focus on Modern British artists or was it what you were drawn to aesthetically? If yes, why this genre?
In my mid 20s, I was living in New York and began to collect American 20th century works and some photography, that seemed natural as I could wander the galleries and learn. At that point, Modern British was significantly undervalued and the quality I could afford was so much higher than American works, so my focus shifted. I became really interested in gay artists, living in a period of repression both personal and artistic, the biographical connections between them and my own life and the way they reflected European movements but always remained quintessentially British in their modesty. The points where figurative expression became abstract or semi-abstract also appealed.
Is it important to surround yourself with your art, or is it more about the process of acquisition?
I love to be surrounded by my collection and show it to others. I don’t enjoy the process of acquisition in itself, these are not primarily investment vehicles in any sense to me, I find that idea a bit soul-destroying.
Do certain works represent memories/stories to you? Is this an important part of your collecting?
Every single work represents a story and moment in time. My collection spans from early 20th century to the 1980s, I really enjoy the sense that there is a dialogue between the artists themselves. I once actually drew a little map showing the connections that person A taught person B at the Slade, who shared a studio with person C etc. My husband and I always bought works for each other at significant birthdays etc., so there is also that layer of personal memory to each one. It amuses me that artists that loved and were jealous of one another from Nevinson to Bomberg to Hockney to Patrick Procktor are now condemned to stare at one another on the wall.
Image: The Temptation of St Anthony, by Keith Vaughan, courtesy of AW.
One of the reasons that we started CURA Art was because collectors weren’t been guided and supported with managing their collection after acquisition. With Liza being a trained conservator, we’re especially interested in finding the balance between placing a work based on aesthetic choice but with equal consideration for its long-term preservation. More often than not, we will see works displayed or stored in conditions that are causing irreversible damage. Often this can go unnoticed as a gradual change. This not only undermines the original idea of the artist but can also reduce the value of the work itself.
With this in mind, do you consider the preservation of the artwork when choosing a place to hang or place it?
I am very lax on understanding preservation and do not think about it nearly enough- I need help!!
Is there a work that got away?
As I mentioned, I discovered David Hockney in my early teens and at the same time began reading Christopher Isherwood’s Berlin stories, this was important as it led me to study in Berlin during formative years some time later. So the work that got away was definitely a lovely pencil drawing of Isherwood by Hockney that was up at auction years ago. It seemed like a huge price for a simple sketch although I am sure it’s much more valuable now.
Image: Gervase holding a tape, by Patrick Procktor, courtesy of AW
One of our ambitions is to encourage and support access to private collections through loans, exhibitions and published research. Not only can this add to the provenance to the work, it can also be a great joy for the collector to share their passion with others. Would you like to share works from your collection in this way?
I feel it is a bit of a duty to lend works for publications or exhibitions if asked, whether any of my collection is sufficiently exciting is quite another question!
Image: Taken by CURA Art in the home of AW.
We often undertake extensive research for our clients, and have unearthed stories and even attributions that they were not aware of. Are there any pieces in your collection that you don’t know the full history of that could be uncovered through research?
I have a couple of Duncan Grant portraits and I would be really interested in knowing the identity of the sitters. That relationship between artist and subject is quite fascinating.
Do you have a favourite work?
Favourite work is a question I have wrestled with! The last painting my husband bought for me before he passed away was a lovely small oil by Henry Scott Tuke, so that is very top of mind. I bought him a very unusual piece, a brass knuckle-duster belonging to Henri Gaudier-Brzeska from the Fine Art Society, that represents a very modernist combination of violence and aesthetics that couldn’t be a greater contrast to the lyricism of the Tuke. They sort of bookend different waves within the collection. Finally, I am very proud of the wonderful large Keith Vaughan work ‘Birdman’ that I alluded to earlier. I have always wanted an important work by Vaughan, he is the artist that to whom I feel most profoundly connected for a multitude of reasons.
Image: Painting by Henry Scott Tuke, courtesy of AW
If you could own any work of art, irrespective of cost, what would it be?
If money were no object, I would love one of the several works by American modernist Marsden Hartley called “Portrait of a German officer”. These really feel to me like the beginning of the 20th century. Equally, it would be extraordinary to live with Mark Gertler’s Merry Go Round, my favorite work at Tate Britain.
With that in mind, do you think that you can ever truly ‘own’ an artwork? Do you think about its life before and after your time as its custodian?
I definitely believe that you are a custodian of a work and that it can change meaning and relevance with a new owner in the future. I also enjoy understanding the provenance of works I own now. What was the person who bought this work in the 1930s thinking? How did it enter their lives and how did they relate to it?