My First Art Purchase
For certain reasons, some time after I’d begun living alone, I became aware of the picture rail in my sterile, brand-new apartment ringed by pure-white walls.
I hadn’t had the slightest idea of hanging anything on it, yet that night, for some reason, the thought crossed my mind: “Maybe I could put up a painting or a photo…”
Now I know you can buy art at a gallery, but for me — who’d had nothing to do with art until then — I had no idea where to buy a picture. Believing the answer to anything is on the internet, before I knew it I was typing into the search box, hunting for a picture to hang on my rail.
What I finally reached was an online shop an artist had built themselves. The artist’s profile, the concept, my impression of the work, the price, my sixth sense — all of it mobilized as I pressed the buy button.
The Cell Artist Ouma
The work I bought is by the cell artist “Ouma.”
Though Japanese, Ouma is an artist who moves through artist-in-residence programs abroad, actively working while shifting her base and the places she shows her work. And, as in the article below, she has also held exhibitions in Tokyo.
You might wonder why she works on the theme of cells — apparently Ouma’s previous job was as a veterinarian. To fulfill the essence of a vet’s work, “healing the heart,” she is said to have begun making art, seeking possibilities not reliant on surgery or medicine.
At the time I resolved to buy art, I was also going through a period of emotional wounds, and I resonated with the work’s concept, making it my first collection piece. *More on this later.
Online Shopping
When I bought it, it was sold on a platform called BASE, but Ouma now seems to sell in several places, including ArtSticker and TAGBOAT.
Ouma keeps a diary on Facebook, note, and elsewhere; back when I bought, she was sending out news from Finland. While searching, I stumbled onto an announcement of a sale and “clicked” the buy button.
One reason I bought was the very low price: ¥2,500 per work, shipping included.
Unpacking
When I opened the envelope, what had been used in place of backing board was a desk calendar for “2018,” the year after my purchase. It depicts the clock tower of a town in Romania called Sighișoara. Romania, I’m told, was her base before Finland.
Apparently she sometimes sends along whatever she happens to have on hand (and sometimes doesn’t) — a gift to the buyer.
The Works
The title of the piece I bought is “Slipper Animalcule – 3rd generation.”
The conceit: a third-generation paramecium that the country-hopping Ouma made in Turku, Finland, and, in Sighișoara, Romania, “treated” — and the following work description was written:
A work in which poorly made parts are excised as lesions and, as if transplanted, stitched together with other living parts. Please enjoy its ever-shifting, amorphous form.
As that description says, the work I bought is several works stitched together.
When I received it, I was amazed at how finely it was made.
Looking closely at the real thing, the works are sewn together with something like fine, transparent fishing line, invisible in the sales-page photos.
When I later asked the artist by message, she said she uses fishing line made to look like surgical thread. It really is a full-fledged “treatment” — realistic, meticulous craft on display. There were even traces of needle holes carefully made before threading.
Five Things I Noticed After Buying
Let me organize what I actually noticed by actually buying.
(1) The Room Changes in an Instant
Once I displayed it in my room, the previously bare wall felt suddenly colored. A point for the eye to rest on appeared, giving the whole space a tighter impression and a welcome accent, and somehow it felt more comfortable.
And as I fixed my eyes on the work, I felt my imagination connecting with the outside world, my own inner world expanding.
(2) You Can Get It Surprisingly Cheaply
The prices of art run from top to bottom. Look up and famous works change hands at sky-high sums — Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers” in the bubble era, or a recent “Basquiat” at ¥12.3 billion. But this work was priced at ¥2,500 including overseas shipping. The frame isn’t included, so the total climbs a bit, but I hadn’t known you could buy so cheaply. *It has since gone up in price.
(3) You Get a Handwritten Message from the Artist
Along with the work came a postcard of a clock tower in Poland. On its back was a handwritten message from Ouma. In beautiful, careful handwriting, it was a heartwarming message.
What’s more, an exchange grew online, expanding into a chatting relationship. I hadn’t expected to communicate directly with the artist, so being able to share my impressions and words of thanks was an unexpected turn that surprised me.
(4) Choosing a Frame Is Fun
What I agonized over was choosing the frame (art frame). If the work and frame don’t suit each other, how the work itself looks changes, and its presence in the room should shift greatly too.
I think a work’s presence, mood, aura, and power largely come down to the instant, at-a-glance impression, and in that, I felt a frame’s presence has an enormous influence — because the impact of that first glance is decisive.
A frame involves a compound of elements — color, material, size, ornamentation. Seeing them in a shop only adds to the confusion, so take care. The next photo shows the finished framing.
(5) It’s Really, Really Happy-Making
And the fifth and final one: “It’s so delightful — it makes you Happy!” That’s it.
An artwork is basically one of a kind. The fact that there’s only one in the world made me feel as though it were “a work made just for me,” and I felt truly happy.
Also, through the act of owning an artwork, I felt I could recognize my own identity and reaffirm my values.
In Summary
There are all sorts of reasons people first buy art, but the above is the episode surrounding my first collection piece.
A complete novice in understanding art, I’ve put into words what I actually thought and felt. Personally, unexpectedly, I was glad I bought it — I ended up feeling that way, and I’m satisfied.
After the work arrived and I displayed it in my room, unexpected feelings arose — “I want to understand art more,” “I want to own more art.” From there, all at once, I began visiting galleries more often as an art collector…
Details
Ouma
Official site: http://oumavet.com/Sales page: https://oumavet.com/goods.php
