Who do you support?

In all walks of life, we encounter people whom we admire.

Sports heroes are obvious examples. Woods, Jordan, Messi… but there is something detached about such fawning. Much better and more satisfying to admire people who are more accessible and whose talent we can support and influence.

Step forward the artists, and I mean the real artists – the ones who can really draw and paint, and not those who collect prizes and looks of disbelief.

On this barbed point, don’t take my word for it. The late Tom Stoppard is much more eloquent and nails it…

“Skill without imagination is craftsmanship, and gives us many useful objects such as wickerwork. Imagination without skill gives us modern art.”

There are many reasons to buy art…

Because we like a painting, and we have walls to fill.

As an investment? Although this is rare and is only really an option for the super-rich. I note that a Mark Rothko has just sold at Sotheby’s for $85.8m – a painting of sorts, bound not for a wall but for an anonymous bonded warehouse somewhere, on the advice of a tax lawyer, I expect.

To solidify memories of places we have visited.

But the best reason to buy art is to support artists.

The people we admire. The people who can do things that we can’t. The painter, the wood carver, the glass blower, the potter, the silversmith, the metalworker…

Some years ago, on a family holiday to Kenya, we encountered an artist called Stephen Nyaga in a restaurant. An artist-in-residence, his work adorned the walls, and amid the bustle of diners and waiters, Stephen sat at his easel, painting away.

The food was fab, spirits were high, and between courses, Nikki and I had taken in Stephen’s work and congratulated him. He was polite but busy, and I’m sure he’d have preferred a sale to a plaudit.

One of his paintings caught our attention.

Tom had left Kenya early to complete a movie in Morocco (Cherry), and since he’d weighed in heavily to make this expensive holiday possible, we had it in mind to get him a thank-you gift.

A painting fitted this bill perfectly.

It was worth the price alone just to see Stephen’s face light up when we settled on his asking price. More happiness watching Tom unpack it in London, and then the thrill of being able to send this photo to Stephen (@nyaga_arts), taken during an online Brothers Trust quiz.

Art is closely tied to patronage, and having Tom Holland as a customer is likely to be a boon.

And what about this simple painting… which also has a nice story behind it.

Because Paddy (my youngest son) is dabbling in art and has completed various commissions to raise money for The Brothers Trust, we attended a local art fair to get a sense of how good his work is and what it might be worth.

Sandown Park was the venue – a place close to my heart because it’s where I taught my boys to play golf. I had decided beforehand that I would probably buy a painting.

Walking through the exhibition, I studiously avoided eye contact with any imploring artists, and having completed the circuit and all the artists, I chose @Victoria.Woolfe

We chatted about her work as I considered which painting to choose and where it might go in our home. I don’t usually go for animal art. In this exhibition, animals featured heavily, but I don’t want a huge leopard or a crocodile in my lounge.

But I liked Victoria’s cow…

And it was cheap at £150.

Victoria sensed another sale, and I sensed her hopes and excitement.

‘I’ve sold 12 paintings over the three days, which I’m pleased with…’

We discussed the cost of exhibiting, plus her Airbnb for three nights, and my mind whirred. At an average price of say, £200, I calculated only a tiny profit for Victoria, and this is without accounting for the cost of materials and her time painting.

So, I asked her to charge me £200 for her cow.

We tip hairdressers, taxi drivers and waiters… so why not artists? The people who can do things that we can’t.

Supporting an artist validates their work and allows us to share in their talent and their excitement at making a sale. This transaction was particularly heartfelt because Victoria promptly burst into tears. Nikki joined her, and we all had a group hug. A lovely moment and worth every penny, which I am reminded of every time I see my cow, and I smile.

I sign off with a piece of art by a young artist I have high hopes for, and I have loved supporting all his life.

This painting hangs in our downstairs loo, but I’ve told him that if he keeps at it, then he will graduate to our lounge.

Something to aim for then.