After years of reflection, I find myself looking back on the art world—a world I’ve come to know intimately, one I remain in and one that has been a study in the human condition, a laboratory where art reveals the best and worst of us. In the end, we must reckon with the consequences of our actions, in this life or the one to come.

Recently, a dear friend passed away. Like so many artists, Hilde Lynn Helphenstein was a soul among us who felt more, who was more sensitive, who took too much to heart for the world she nonetheless chose and thrived within. I often wonder where we would be without people like her, those rare, sensitive souls who remind us that beneath the pressure to cool our emotions and cultivate indifference, we still have something worth protecting. Art does that. It does it in a million ways. True art does not merely allow us to remember; it encourages us to transcend the provincial and material obsessions this world relentlessly promotes.

Most of the world knew Hilde as “Jerry Gogosian,” the art world satirist. But within her musings, and her often hilarious dispatches, lay a profound message. She was one of the few women who broke through and held up a mirror, even when the reflection was uncomfortable. She followed her bliss, as Joseph Campbell so eloquently urged us all to do. What I admired most was her courage—the specific kind of courage required to be truly authentic. Authenticity is a rarity not just in the art world but in the broader world, and that should surprise no one: both contain powerful social and structural mechanisms designed to enforce conformity.

I was proud of her, and I told her so. She was creating work that had emotion and beauty, and that captured everything I loved about her. In April, we discussed doing a show together. She wanted to find a better handle on her voice, to interpret and reinterpret her vision on canvas. Those conversations are something I will carry with me.

Those who know me are familiar with my habit of writing texts of, shall we say, considerable length. One friend told another, “Georges sent me a 14-inch text last night,” to which I quickly corrected her, for accuracy, that it had in fact been 15. Hilde loved those texts. We laughed at how strange we both were: me for writing them, her for reading every word. I hope they made some days more bearable. Rereading our conversations now, I feel grateful that I never held back. Rumi wrote that most love is lost in what is said but not meant, and in what is meant but never said. Between Hilde and me, no love was ever lost.

I entered the art world with a specific vision: a gallery that was artist-focused, that had soul, that served as an anchor in an otherwise thunderous sea—a place where people with even a little courage could find something that would be genuinely missed if it disappeared. Art for life’s journey. Because what I have discovered, and what everyone in the art world eventually witnesses, is that the greatest art is almost always made by those most sensitive to the daily weight of existence.

In a world that rewards the worst in us, it is often the healthiest among us—those who truly see the beauty and purpose of life—who have the hardest time. They are, in fact, the sane ones. They exist to remind us that the lives we are pressured to lead in order to succeed are not necessarily the lives we should lead.

Hilde felt too much. She was incapable of setting aside her humanity, even when it would have served her to do so. We live in a world made crueler by the people it elevates for doing exactly that.

I find myself returning to an old question: is it better to lose ourselves and gain the world, or to hold onto what is best in us even as the world grows harsh and indifferent in return… trusting, perhaps, in the promises so many religions make about what waits beyond?

Like so many artists, Hilde struggled with substance abuse, as too many in the art world endure. And yet she never let it harden her. She felt everything. Her art required reflection, soul, honesty and heart, and she gave all of it, always.

The life Hilde led took courage, and I told her so, always. Nothing that is truly worth having—love, trust, compassion, empathy—can be fully experienced without it. In one of our last conversations, I told her not to stress or grow disillusioned, not to feel alone or diminished. I told her that there would come a time when she would arrive at a clearing, a place where no trees crowd in, where love, self-acceptance, genuine friendship and compassion exist without condition. I promised her that when she found it, she should run toward it. That I would meet her there.

I know she’s there now. True to form, she has beaten me to it. And how beautiful it is to think that when I finally arrive, she will already be waiting.

A home filled with art is more than a collection of objects; it is a living, breathing entity, an ecosystem of energies that shape the experience of living within its walls. True art is not passive. It is not decoration. It is an interaction, an ongoing conversation with your past, present and future self. To live with art is to surround yourself with the echoes of your aspirations and the reflections of your inner world and if done right, it can manifest not only the best possible version of yourself but also the one you aspire to be.

Art is not a luxury but a necessity—an essential tool for living. Francis Bacon’s work made this clear to me as a teenager wading through the existential murk of youth when depression and solitude often felt like permanent states of being. Standing before one of his paintings, I felt understood in a way that nothing else had provided. It was a wordless recognition: someone else had felt this too. At its best, art does that—it disrupts isolation and reminds us that we are not alone. Literature, poetry and painting are not mere distractions but lifelines, capable of opening up forgotten or undiscovered parts of ourselves.

I remember a turning point in my life when I first encountered Rilke’s Archaic Torso of Apollo. The final words of that poem—”For here, there is no place that does not see you. You must change your life”—settled into my mind like an irreversible command. Art, when it is real, insists upon change. It pulls at something deep, demanding honesty and courage. A painting, a poem or a sculpture are not inert things; they are forces that shift and shape us if we let them.

This is why choosing the art you live with should never be outsourced. It is an intimate, experiential process that demands honesty that no critic, advisor or interior designer can dictate for you. Art should be chosen not for how it looks on a wall but for how it resonates within you. Where in your life do you wish to have this experience again? That is the only question that matters. The art surrounding you shapes your internal landscape just as much as your external one. In curating your home, you compose a symphony of energies, each piece playing its part in the greater harmony of your existence.

And like all living things, the art in your life must evolve. The works that once spoke to you may no longer hold the same resonance, just as you are not the same person who first stood before them. The ecosystem of your home shifts as you do—shedding what no longer fits, embracing what calls you forward. This is not a burden but a liberation. In choosing art, you also unchoose all that is not you.

It takes courage to choose art honestly—to silence the noise of critics, the weight of self-doubt and the constructed barriers of price and prestige. I regret every work I hesitated to acquire out of fear. Standing in the south of France before the ancient cave drawings, I was reminded of something essential—art is not about galleries, markets or critics. The unbroken thread of human expression, the barbaric yawp across time, connects us to those who came before and those who will come after.

When we are on our deathbeds, it will not be the things we did that we regret but the things we were too afraid to do. That is why it takes courage—not just to buy art but to live with it, surrender to its power and let it change you. Choose art not to impress, not to decorate, but to experience. Choose it for what it awakens in you, for the truths it demands you face. Choose it for the life it calls you to lead, for the self it allows you to become.

Because the art you live with is the art you become.

Mexico City has always been one of my favorite cities in the world. The vibrant energy, culture, art, and history of its people never fail to excite me. As I, and much of the art world, head to Zona Maco, one of the most prestigious and highest-attended international art fairs worldwide, it prompts me to reflect on the importance of this event, in this place

I attend not only the contemporary art iteration of Zona Maco in February, but also the photo edition in September. With each trip, I make sure to find time to visit the studios and homes of Mexican art collectors and artists. And I always carve out some room to explore many of the unique cultural and artistic happenings around Mexico City. This is a place filled with indigenous, European and Asian cultures meshing together and bringing to life what is best in all of us: social commentaries on what ails us and makes us human; discourses on personal and civil ethics; and the bubbling of ideas rooted in resistance from around the world.

So much of the world sometimes seems to be held hostage by politics surrounding nationalism, migration, economics and the environment. As developed countries find new ways to adapt to a changing world, we can take refuge in the idea that art has always been an agent of change. The art world is not immune from these issues. Indeed, it can serve as a medium for connection, healing and self-realization by creating potential solutions to many of the things that hurt us.

Zona Maco moves me. This is in part because it brings together the art and people of this ancient country, situated at the heart of the Aztec pyramids and empire, and also because it creates a nexus of old and modern art not seen anywhere else in North America.

Well before Europeans even knew about the existence of the North American continent or before our national experiment in democracy ever began, the empires of the Maya, Aztec, and Olmec’s thrived. We see this in the faces and ways of modern Mexico—with 69 recognized languages spoken at any given time. It is a rich and vibrant culture. Because of politics or oversimplified negative perceptions, too often we forget how much our neighbors to the south have to offer—a powerhouse of culture and dynamism, already known throughout Latin America but still elusive within the consciousness of our American psyche. Every six months Zona Maco offers us the opportunity to edge a bit closer to a consciousness that I hope will help create a unifying vision of a North American region that is vibrant, inclusive and open to a future that embraces and respects its people and its past.

When I see a portrait of Mexican artist Frida Kahlo, I see beautiful art but also the faces of the Mexican women who have touched my life both personally and through their artwork. Today we celebrate Frida Kahlo as a modern feminist of sorts, but her life and paintings were a celebration of Mexican culture down to its indigenous roots. When I see Frida, I see resistance. I see strength. I see my mother. I see my sister’s face. I see countless of indigenous female faces. I see women who have made it their mission to create a modern Mexico and a forward-thinking world. There is an electric energy that takes hold in Mexico City in the shadows of its pyramids and its high-rises during the fair. In Zona Maco you can see and feel art history in its totality—both old and new art—and art yet to be discovered and embraced.

As I get ready to visit Mexico City, I prepare to make my annual pilgrimage to the pyramids in Teotihuacan. This pilgrimage serves as an exercise in becoming grounded and reflective about things that matter in my life and a way of connecting with the universal aspects of our humanity and heritage. Ancient, old, and contemporary art have a common stream that influences each of us on a daily basis and that is deeply rooted within us. Mexico and the United States have a complex relationship, but yet we have more positive things that bring us together than negative things that divide us. I envision a unified people in which old and current conflicts are buried and where we look to art and culture to create a better vision of our future selves. We are, after all, destined to live side by side until the end of time. When I come to Zona Maco, I see the seeds of a better and united future being planted.

Georges Berges is a dealer with a gallery located SoHo, New York City, and the owner of Berges Creative Group, an art advising firm. Read his full bio here.

Autumn has always been one of my favorite seasons of the year, especially in New York City. The holidays are on the horizon and the crisp days remind me that all things are renewed in the fall. This is always one of the busiest times in the art world: fairs are bustling in Europe while in the United States and Mexico people gear-up for their upcoming spring arts events. During this time of the year, I often reflect not just about the general trajectory of the art world but also about life in general. Art, after all, provides us with chronological records of periods in human history and contemplative windows into how broader humanity has been experienced and lived in different lifetimes. Certain seasons speak to us more than others because they complement the rhythms of our lives—the music compositions we make of our ourselves just by the mere act of living and the narratives we create, tell, and communicate from how we see and define ourselves. Art plays a role because it gives us permission to daydream about the future, envisioning the person we’re striving to be.

It is important to ask ourselves about the art we choose to live and surround ourselves with: Is the art you live with a reflection who you are today or does it best reflect the person you were yesterday or a long time ago? Does the art you currently live with represent the person you aspire to be? If it is who you are today—then it will reinforce your current situation and will help to keep you there. If it is who you were, but no longer want to be, it will weigh you down and become another heavy bag of a past long gone that you have not let go. And finally, if the art that you surround yourself with reflects who you aspire to be, then the art you are living with will help to reinforce that person you desire to become and in the process elevate you to that better vision of yourself.

SEE ALSO: What Art Buyers Need to Know About BOGO Deals

A reason why F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby resonates so much in the American psyche is because it represents a piece of cultural narrative of what it means to be an American, that is, the idea that we can reinvent ourselves again and again and again. Similar to this literary masterpiece, other American Art, particularly Contemporary American Art, is a raw representation of what we project personally and socially onto the idea of America, and which moves us to imagine something more for ourselves. Art gives us permission to strive for and achieve something higher. It allows us to imagine that there is something unique, special, and powerful in each of us. For example, when Ralph Lauren was asked to share his thoughts about his fashion label, he simply replied by saying that he does design clothes, but that he designed dreams. In other words, he sells wearable art pieces that are aspirational, that is, pieces that allow the persons wearing it to experience being the person they aspire to be. The tweed jacket and the linen dress, just like a Picasso, represent much more than the canvas or material that make up the pieces. If done right, this wearable art represents your potential, the vision of who you are or can become. The first step to reaching a higher self is to attain a sincere and true belief that it is possible—it is arguably this same belief of the American Dream that has allowed so many to succeed. There is power in that simple and profound truth—mountains and feats at unimaginable levels suddenly become attainable realities.

Ideals drive much of what we do in business and our own personal lives. It is ultimately these ideals that come to define and enable us to reach our goals both materially and spiritually. These ideals allow us to continue on despite the forces around us that seek to consume us. The key to success, happiness, and living a fulfilling life is to nurture the idealistic part within us. That part that so much of modern life has relegated to second-class status. Art has always been an expression of these ideals, of who we are or would like to be as individuals and collectively as people. Art is also a tool and marker to be used for our benefit when dealing with blessings and challenges in life: births, heartaches, unions, breakups, losses, illnesses, deaths, mortality, and even long-lasting legacies of ourselves and for our loved ones. Throughout life, we are confronted with situations and stages that serve to prepare us for the bigger challenges we are all destined to face. This is why I choose to surround myself with art that helps me understand my place in the world and to cope with the existential reality many of us have been taught to avoid in our modern life. Art has power and it seeks to transform. If art is incorporated well into your life, then it can serve to enrich your life’s journey.

As I bundle up to walk out and start daily life, the coldness of fall reminds me of the existential journey that life confronts us all with. I believe part of the mission in life is to create spaces that authentically reflect who each of us is or who we aim to be.  This is why incorporating art into all aspects of life—in the office, classroom, and home—is an opportunity to turn seemingly mundane experiences into enriching and empowering moments—ones that can elevate us both materially and spiritually. Joseph Campbell says it best when he writes, “the goal in life is to make your heartbeat match the beat of the universe, to match your nature with nature.” Art in all its melodious mysteries gets us there both personally and collectively.

Georges Berges is the owner of Georges Berges Gallery in SoHo, NYC and of Berges Creative Group, an art advising firm dealing primarily with the secondary market. Visit his website at www.bergesgallery.com and follow him on Twitter @georgesberges and Instagram @bergesgallery

What it means to care for oneself was a question often on my mind while on vacation this past month. I thought about how so often with the art that we love, our attachment has come about through periods of self-reflection and separation from our normal routine. Ironically, in the art world, it feels like we are regularly forced to make demands of ourselves that are counter to the artistic life—at odds with our creative spirit and the work we write about, talk about, sell, buy and promote.

I had not taken a real vacation in years. My philosophy had always been, “If you create a life that you love, then there is never a need for a vacation.” Planning, working and strategizing usually filled my trips to Saint-Tropez, Mexico City or Beijing. Although for a long time I had needed a real vacation, to surrender myself in the woods or beach, I never wanted to leave my daily life. It’s a life I have always thought of as pleasure and adventure; it is the art world, after all.  

But something fundamental was missing.  Something we often forget (though the dog days of summer tend to remind us) is that the simple act of separating from our social environment and daily life is not only healing and restorative, but has the power to be transformative.

When we incorporate a painting, sculpture or any artwork into our lives, the connection between the piece of art and ourselves needs to be authentic. The work must truly reflect our aesthetic energy or spirit. Choosing right requires us to be connected with ourselves—perceptive of what is intangible in our individual natures. Choosing wisely could meaningfully affect our overall sense of self and the living and working environment where we exist. After all, it’s been reported that appreciating a work of art stimulates the part of one’s brain that also processes pleasing smells, tastes, and sounds—sending a subconscious signal that “this is good for me,” and giving rise to an influx of positive emotions.

Art resonates deeply within us when the artist has been able to tap into what Carl Jung called the collective unconscious—that innate essence that transcends matter and is commonly shared by all of humanity. Most artists do this, in large part, by separating themselves both physically and spiritually from their world and going on a pilgrimage, often called “the artist’s journey.” Everyone needs to walk the artist’s path, to take real time off by going traveling and caring for the self before returning and reconnecting.

SEE ALSO: What Art Buyers Need to Know About BOGO Deals

In The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Joseph Campbell details the hero’s journey across epochs and cultures in human history—stories like Odysseus, King Arthur and others have come to resonate and inspire us because they meet our need for truth, understanding and universality. Similarly, just like Campbell’s heroes, from time to time the artist takes a journey filled with rest, adventure, and play, and brings back a mind filled with symbols and creative works that reflect commonality in our human experience.

When we look closely at a Rothko, Dali or other masterpieces from somewhere in the world, the artwork can elicit a spectrum of emotions from its viewers ranging from joy to disgust. Much like Prometheus, who in Greek mythology brings the gift of fire to humanity, the artist brings us creative gifts that light the fire within us and could help us relate to one another, be inspired, or cope with the challenges and tribulations of daily living. This is what the right work of art has the potential of doing. Art speaks to us because it is a product of a deeper reality that exists, and that we share with one another.

Choosing the best, life-enhancing art comes from knowing oneself—from having clarity about our wants and needs and who we are or want to be as individuals. The best art buying decision-making comes from being in-tune with the self, something achieved by taking the time to truly listen to our inner voice. This is the reason why many of my collectors often make their best art purchases right after time off.  

This summer, focus inward. On your return, you then can start building the most creative environment for yourself, and living authentically as the person you want to be. Take care of yourself. Go on a vacation. Take your artist’s journey, even if like Thoreau it’s only to a tent in your backyard.

Alexander McQueen’s 2011 Savage Beauty show galvanized and highlighted the often forgotten conception of fashion as legitimate art. McQueen was an artist and an icon in every sense of the word. His works touched parts of the human soul only previously reached by master painters. He integrated spirit and energy in his creations in such a way that the persons wearing his pieces became living expressions of art.

Vogue editor in chief and fashion icon Anna Wintour has also blended art and fashion in recent years. She helped integrate costume design as part of the permanent art collection at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Through her involvement at the museum, Wintour is contributing to the legitimization of fashion as fine art—museum quality art.

Historically, fashion has rarely been elevated to the same stature as painting, music, sculpture or architecture. But fashion is one of the purest expressions of art because it is art lived on a daily basis. One needs only to think about pioneer performer Marina Abramović and the way in which she engages the viewer to become part of her work to realize the connection. In her 2010 The Artist is Present MoMa exhibit, Abramović asked the viewer to sit silently across from her and stare at each other for as long as the viewer wanted to look and be looked at.

Just like in Abramović’s performance art, the fashion designer creates artwork that needs another person for its completion. Fashion only exists as long as there is an actor to incarnate it. In that way, it is performance art. The person wearing the designed piece is having a conversation with the designer and an audience. He or she becomes an artist and a full participant. Fashion is a manifestation of human art and communication. It helps us artistically communicate who we are, who we want to be, where we are going, and where we have been.

The convergence of art and fashion is symbiotic. Everything that exists and surrounds us is a product of the society we live in. Who we are, what we see, and what we experience is interconnected and interrelated. There is no place we can point to and say that this or that object does not belong to the sphere of art. One can tell as much about a culture by the paintings it produces as by the dresses and articles of clothing it uses for individual and collective expression. We now buy canvases and textiles to paint and create. By combining different mediums to make art, we are better able to transcend our lives and in the process connect to the essence and universality of who we are.

Art should not be seen as a luxury. It is an essential element to a fulfilling life. When any of my collectors goes through a major life change, such as a divorce or embarking on a new career, I often suggest changing their art and clothing. Oftentimes we overlook this critical piece in our own self-development. The art we choose for ourselves and our physical living environment can serve as an important tool to re-imagine and rebuild our sense of being.

All art is imbued with the energy and passion an artist breathes into it. A painting has power. A properly-made tweed jacket has power. Their energy can help us realize our physical and emotional goals and desires. Many of my collectors have found that the art they wear and surround themselves with affects not just their bottom line in business or work but also their own sense of wellness and happiness.

The art we wear and live with is the art we become. Art—fashion and otherwise—reflects who we are and who we aspire to be.

Georges Berges is the owner of Georges Berges Gallery in SoHo, NYC and of Berges Creative Group, an art advising firm dealing primarily with the secondary market. Follow him on Twitter @georgesberges and Instagram @georgesbergesgallery.

For decades, art galleries brought visitors exhibits and artists that riveted and radically transformed the trajectory of our cultural and national narratives. While we would generally go to museums to see historical art, galleries offered the new, interesting and avant-garde. They were the places where we connected with artists and like-minded people.

A lot has changed. Adult overnight sleepovers are taking place at museums like The Rubin and American Museum of Natural History. MoMA, Guggenheim and Brooklyn Museum have late-night parties with DJs and are attracting new artists and collectors through collaborative art projects. Ironically, as if in a reversal of roles, many art galleries now act like museums did in the past. Their spaces now feel sterile and out of touch. For a time now, galleries have abided by the corporate business model, creating a corporatized art-buying experience.

But the real issue facing art galleries today is this: Does the corporate model that has satisfied cultured people for decades still provide fulfillment? How can the art industry adapt to a consumer society in which everything is being turned into an event?

I often think about organic health food stores and how these places have convinced us to purchase what I personally consider to be overpriced produce. They are able to do this because they have transformed the simple and uneventful act of purchasing, for example, an apple into an experience. When I go to a health food store, the architecture and manufactured environment reaffirm my view of myself as someone who is healthy and supports the organic movement, sustainability and fair trade—despite the fact that, based on my level of consumption and overall choices outside of food, the reality is most likely the opposite. We have created a situation in which the simple act of buying an apple is an experience. How much more different should the act of buying art be?

This is to say nothing of the digital and virtual experience. We are seeing this in retail. Today more and more people don’t have the time or need to physically go to a store. Online shopping is competing with brick and mortar, causing headaches to many in commercial real estate. Galleries are trying to adapt and understand how this new reality will affect the buying and selling of art. Social media is certainly dominating today’s art world and online sites like Artnet and Artsy have become leaders in marketing and moving art. The reality is that galleries as we know them are rapidly changing. People are demanding not just a place to see art, but a place to experience and to be art. They want a heightened connection with new and old friends. Ironically, much of the way galleries were decades ago is what’s needed now. And this is not about nostalgia. It’s about something new. Too many people have consumed for the sake of consumption and are now looking for something more. Health food grocers and other merchants caught onto this, and gallerists are catching on now as well.

Even the definition of “art gallery” is evolving. Traditionally, art galleries are stationed in one location all year around. Now, some are starting to embrace a nomadic existence, becoming digitally-based while running pop-up exhibitions and doing annual art fairs throughout the world. Small galleries can still survive by capitalizing on their niche and by providing unique, personalized experiences for artists and sophisticated art collectors by daring to be playful, innovative and authentic.

The art world is transforming. Market forces and lifestyle changes are fundamentally reshaping what consumers expect. In many ways, artists are leading the movement, but many gallerists are slow to catch on. Perhaps it’s because the changes are happening too fast and change doesn’t come naturally to those who have thrived on a rigid corporate business model. Gallerists today have to be as creative as the artists they represent. Many contemporary artists are creating works of art that are experiential and that reflect the daily reality of people as individuals and a society. In the process they are also creating transformation through words—the spoken and unspoken commentaries of their art. I see gallerists and art dealers working in the same fashion: They create art-buying experiences through curation, innovative use of technology, and the incorporation of performance art. If in today’s world we have turned the simple act of buying produce into an experience, then surely the ultimate experience should come from buying something as important and personal as art.

One thing is certain: Art galleries as we know them will change. The personality of the gallerist, the gallery’s artistic community, and curatorial experiences will help govern the trajectory of the small to midsize gallery. The old saying “nothing is certain in life but change” is certainly true for the modern art gallery.

Georges Berges is the owner of Georges Berges Gallery in SoHo, NYC and of Berges Creative Group, an art advising firm dealing primarily with the secondary market. Follow him on Twitter @georgesberges and Instagram @georgesbergesgallery.

Collectors often wonder how to differentiate between an emerging artist that holds long-term promise as an investment and an emerging artist that may fade away. In the art market, there is no silver bullet that guarantees an artist is going to be a good investment. However, here are a few practical measures that will increase the probability that pieces you buy at a premium don’t end up in a garage sale selling for cents on the dollar.

Choose Love

Pick art you love—every piece you purchase should pass this fundamental test. Once you decide on a style or piece that appeals to you, examine a few key factors to determine if it will appeal to your investment portfolio as well.

Exclusive or Open Relationship

Is the artist showing in multiple galleries or venues throughout the city, or does the artist have exclusive representation? Does the artist have an agent or someone who is fully committed to his or her development? Ideally, although not always necessary, the artist should have obtained exclusive representation.

Art galleries generally will only dedicate time and resources to artists who have exclusive representation with them. If there is exclusive representation, then you know there’s a two-way commitment between the gallery and the artist. This increases the chances that the gallery is actually devoted to growing and selling the artist’s work.

Type of Exclusive Relationship

What type of gallery represents the artist? Is the gallery more focused on selling inventory or on working hand-in-hand with the artist? You can discern this by learning how many artists a gallery has. Art galleries can’t feasibly provide individualized attention to many artists simultaneously. There will be an obvious detachment from the artist and a greater focus on inventory if a small gallery is working with 30 or 40 artists.

Who else does the gallery represent and where does the artist fall within that list? Is it mainly emerging artists? If so, what’s the gallery’s track record for nurturing and growing winners? If the gallery represents a mix of artists, does the gallery pair its emerging artists with more established ones? When a gallery actively engages with its artists and creates and promotes a community, the emerging artist benefits from having his or her name associated with more recognizable ones. This will also enable them to network and receive support from more established artists. Finally, is the gallery more focused on local happenings or does it have a global reach? You want a gallery that’s committed to the development of the artist and that puts emphasis on expanding relationships critical to the artist’s development and success.

Acquisitions

Have any pieces by the artist been acquired by museums or noteworthy private collections? Major successes like these solidify the artist’s standing and stabilize the price of his or her artwork. Many variables play into this, but there is something to be said about purchasing art from an artist who has gone through the acquisition process.

Life Stage

The age of the artist helps to determine a piece’s investment value. There is a lot of worth in the aging emerging artist, including quality of the work, individual artistic development, sociocultural relevance and aesthetic power. However, an artist in his 70s or 80s who isn’t in a major museum or lacks representation by a gallery may not have the time or resources to fully exploit the shifting trends of the current art market to his or her advantage. Although, thankfully, there are always exceptions to this.

Investigate a gallery or agent and see if they are genuinely committed to the development of the artist. Throughout history, art dealers and gallerists have been instrumental in bringing into prominence artists who may have otherwise stayed in relative obscurity. Without this important component, all bets are off.

Georges Berges is the owner of Georges Berges Gallery in SoHo, NYC and of Berges Creative Group, an art advising firm dealing primarily with the secondary market. Follow him on Twitter @georgesberges and Instagram @georgesbergesgallery.

The studio visit has always been essential to my business as a gallerist. Each year, I travel across the world, visiting up to 20 artists across Europe, China, Latin America and the U.S., to gain a better sense of what I like—and don’t like. The trips keep me grounded, connected to the work, and serve to develop the types of relationships I feel are necessary to grow both the artist and myself. I learn firsthand which museum acquisitions and private collections an artist has been a part of, and I evaluate whether the artist is a good investment—if he or she is producing at his or her full creative capacity.

Studio visits are critical to appreciating the evolution of an artist—and to be able to speak to collectors not just about the artwork but also about the creator. For this reason, it is important the gallerist or art dealer makes a connection, and a commitment, to the artist. Otherwise, the gallerist or dealer is just offloading inventory to their collectors. I do not sell inventory. I sell my artists.

One of the challenges, especially when representing three or four-dozen artists, is the time and capital required to travel globally for studio visits. Thankfully, my passion has always been exploration and travel. If I were not able to travel, I never would have entered this industry. As I explore, I refine and globalize my eye—an imperative in today’s market.

Last week, I traveled to Paris to visit photographer Iris Brosch, and then to Lyon to visit painter Eric Roux Fontaine.

Iris’ studio was special, in large part because I have been historically less focused on photography than other mediums. Her work portrays strong women without shame; her subjects have faces with power. In many ways, her work is less about the form, the nude, or even the sex of the subjects, and more about the human condition. Iris captures the moment in time when we are seemingly the most vulnerable—but yet at our strongest. Much of what I love from afar about her work was reinforced during my visit. We spoke not just about current projects, but future plans. We have been thinking about working together some time now. My visit solidified our relationship.

From Paris, I took the TGV to Lyon to meet Eric Roux Fontaine, whose paintings I already sell. We’ve maintained an online relationship, but had reached the point where the visit was essential in order to continue working together. Musee Paul Dini in Lyon recently added some of Eric’s paintings to its collection. We scheduled my visit to coincide with the opening celebration of that acquisition.

Eric’s work can be best described as magical realism, a style that resonates with me. I was captivated by the portrayal of a jungle in one of his paintings. For years, he frequented the jungles of Central America and his work is heavily influenced by these experiences. As he explains, there is a clear demarcation between where the jungle begins and where it ends, creating symbolically and metaphorically in Eric’s mind a clarity of where imagination begins and ends.

Throughout history, humans have projected onto jungles and forests their fears, hopes and fantasies. Based on this concept, Eric’s work incorporates as an almost psychical element that adds to the magical feel of his work—a white horse, vaguely there; a white tree in a green forest; a glass house or a bed inside a forest. The otherworldly quality of Eric’s work is what drove me to meet him in person. My visit to Eric’s studio reinforced my belief in him as an artist and helped me to better understand his process.

As in any industry, there exists a disconnect between why many decide to enter the art world and the work they actually end up doing. The business side has less to do with art as a direct practice, and less to do with the passion that would inspire one to bloom both personally and professionally within the arts.

I struggle with this daily, and know that the minute I find myself away from the artist’s studio for too long, my sense of being will demand change. Fundamental to everything that we are do is the studio visit—it keeps the gallerist and dealer connected his or her purpose, and it makes the artist better by the intrinsic validation received. Whether it’s in the back streets of Paris or Lyon or in the Roma district of Mexico City, there is something transformative about the studio visit.

Georges Berges is the owner of Georges Berges Gallery in SoHo, NYC and of Berges Creative Group, an art advising firm dealing primarily with the secondary market. Follow him on Twitter @georgesberges and Instagram @georgesbergesgallery.