THE QUIET COLLECTOR

by Pauline Mansfield

For all my life, I've had a passion for all things beautiful – music, nature, good people, the spoken and written word, and especially art and those who create it. As a kid, I covered my tiny space at home, which barely qualified as a room, with pictures I drew of majestic trees and colorful flowers. It wasn't until I was good and grown that I developed a passionate love for art. But little did I know what it meant to be a collector. I just knew that having art in my home that I loved brought me so much joy.

The term art collector only began to have any meaning to me when the National Black Arts Festival came to Atlanta in the late 1980s. I was astounded by the number of artists that filled Greenbriar Mall from one end to the other, just a few miles from my home. The number of attendees was even more astonishing; some had traveled across the country to purchase art from their favorite artists and discover new talent that was growing exponentially at that time. The excitement at this gathering was palpable, unlike anything I'd ever experienced before.

During the time the festival was in Atlanta, I went to the mall every other day, discovering the breadth and depth of this magical world that was so new to me. This electric atmosphere must have been what the Harlem Renaissance felt like in the 1920s.

Art, for me, up to this time, has never touched me emotionally or represented anything that looked like the world I lived in. For the first time, I saw extraordinary images in so many forms, all of which reflected the beauty of my Black world. There was so much to take in. I was taken aback by the life-size images of the brilliant art created by Woodrow Nash, the exquisite and colorful wood marquetry by Gabril Ajayi, and the wondrous ceramic masks of Sammie Nicely. That was a drop in the bucket of the extent to which this expansive art world embodied; there were fabric artists, glass artists, jewelry makers, and so much more. It was mind-blowing! And the people who came from north, east, south, and west were just as colorful as all this art. This was our Wakanda.

Through the years, I soon discovered that in addition to its beauty, this growing volume of Black art had value. Unlike a car, much of this art appreciates in value over time. Still, my purpose for purchasing art was for the pure joy of having it grace my walls and tables. I did this over many decades, as I could afford to do so. 

As the Black artists' community began to grow in Atlanta, I took classes to learn how to frame art and started a side hustle, meeting several up-and-coming artists along the way. They needed a framer, and I discovered the power of bartering my service for their artworks. As a result, I acquired what turned out to be some very valuable art pieces through the decades.

I, like so many, became a quiet collector, bit by bit, filling my home spaces. Initially, I was unsure whether my purchases were smart investments that would benefit my financial portfolio in the long run. That was something I didn't even think about until much later. As I added one artpiece at a time, I accumulated wall paintings, jewelry, weavings, metal and clay sculptures, and more. Each purchase brought more and more pieces of our beautiful Black culture into my humble abode. I've developed a special connection to certain artists, repeatedly buying their artwork and following their journeys for over twenty years.

It has only been in recent years that I have become educated about the value of the art I already have and art I may buy in the future. I have discovered that it is a personal choice as to whether the value of an art piece is based on its monetary or emotional value. Some art lovers quietly support struggling artists who need that support to get them on a sound footing, so the world can also appreciate their talents. Others, like me, continue to buy because of the warmth or the subtle messages these art pieces bring into our homes, not always for show or financial gain.

It is always exciting for me, however, when I discover that an art piece I have chosen has value that can be passed on to my family as an inheritance. In addition to loving to look at and enjoy the pieces I have, no matter how long they've been in my home, I now enjoy digging into the history of the artists, some of whom were just beginning their creative journeys at the time I decided to support their artistic gift.

Over the past thirty years, I have acquired many extraordinary pieces of art and now find it so exhilarating to visit art galleries and museums across the country. When the Black Art in America Gallery came to my neighborhood, I was beyond thrilled. This gallery has become my 'go-to' place to discover new art. I have not only been educated about many facets of the art world through their artist talks, print fairs, and special presentations, but I have also found a quiet space where I can discover new gifts for myself and friends. This space has also become my therapy space where I go to sit with friends in BAIA's lovely garden, and my joyful space where I can gather with the loving artistic village of like-minded people who also appreciate this unexpected treasure in East Point, GA.

I am so attached to the art I have purchased through the years, each with its own special meaning. My friends call my home 'The Museum' because every wall is covered with art. When I see a piece of art now that I love these days, my dilemma is always, where in the world can I possibly put this? If it is within my budget, and I just cannot resist, I will rearrange pieces throughout each room to make it work.

For a very long time, I dared not call myself an art collector out loud because I thought that it only applied to those privileged with pockets deep enough to treat themselves to those things outside the realm of bare necessities. However, I now know that collecting begins wherever we are – starting quietly and slowly with small purchases, buying on "lay-a-way," supporting new artists who begin by selling low, stumbling on a great find at thrift shops, estate sales, or even film set sales. Whatever paths bring us joy and uplift are utterly worth working towards; quietly, slowly, one small step at a time.

My unexpected love affair with art has been one that I have never regretted because it has added so much to my surroundings and my life. The art world is vast and constantly evolving, with contributions from our culture adding immeasurable new levels of excitement. 

 

"There is a calmness to a life lived in gratitude,

a quiet joy." Ralph H. Blum - Author

About the Author
Ms. Pauline W. Mansfield is an author, biographer, and public speaker known as The Turtle Queen. She has written four books, founded the Turtle Queen Author’s Club, and inspires others to share their own stories. As VP of Public Relations for Toastmasters International and a contributing writer for various publications, Ms. Pauline is passionate about uplifting others with the message: “It’s never too late to live your best life.” Learn more at https://www.turtlequeenwriteplace.com