Insights into Pricing Artwork - Mark, Skill, and Meaning.
How do we price our work, and what factors shape the final value?
The question of pricing artwork is an ongoing and often complex conversation within the art world. It tends to be most pressing early in an artist’s career, when experience, exposure, and market presence are still developing. For emerging artists, pricing can feel uncertain and deeply personal. As artists move into mid-career and senior stages, however, decades of exhibitions, gallery relationships, and professional practice provide a clearer framework. At that point, price growth tends to evolve more steadily, reflecting artistic maturity, increased demand, and the scale and significance of exhibitions.
In Canada, this discussion is further shaped by a broader cultural context. Historically, art and artists have not been deeply embedded in everyday life to the same extent as in older European societies, where centuries of patronage and cultural integration have reinforced the value of artistic creation. Canada’s relatively young national identity—emerging from a colonial past—has influenced how art is perceived and valued, often placing economic pragmatism ahead of intellectual and cultural pursuits.
This is not something that changes overnight. A deeper appreciation for the arts requires time, sustained education, and collective cultural growth. While these historical and societal factors continue to shape our perceptions, they are slowly evolving, and with each generation, the role of art in daily life gains greater depth, relevance, and respect.
As artists, we must also consider the role of education—particularly for those who have chosen to pursue formal training at an art academy as a foundation for a lifelong career. This education represents a significant investment in the future, both financially and intellectually, and it should be reflected in the prices an artist ultimately commands. In Canada, this factor is often overlooked, as art education is not regarded with the same seriousness as other post-secondary paths. Yet politicians and business leaders frequently forget that artists are the quiet, long-term shapers of aesthetic values and cultural perspectives. Over time, it is artists who influence how societies see, feel, and understand the world.
I admit that explaining these ideas can be tiring at times, but perhaps this, too, is part of the artist’s role—to articulate the deeper value of creative work and its lasting impact.
Another critical component of pricing is an artist’s level of commitment to their practice and to the continual refinement of technique. Years of disciplined work, experimentation, and technical evolution naturally lead to greater maturity and depth. As an artist evolves, it reflects not only growth of skill, but also a sustained willingness to question, adapt, and reinvent—even at the most subtle level. These incremental discoveries accumulate over time, resulting in work that is increasingly refined, both intellectually and technically, and this progression is rightly reflected in the value of the artwork.
Exhibitions and shows also play a significant role, along with their reception and success. Traditionally, commercial galleries served as the primary custodians of artists’ careers. Over the past two decades, however, the landscape has shifted toward a more open and flexible model, allowing artists greater freedom in how and where they present and sell their work. Nevertheless, galleries continue to offer an invaluable platform. They present work in a professional and elevated context, provide a form of validation, and create ongoing opportunities to connect with new collectors. In many ways, they remain essential partners in shaping an artist’s visibility, credibility, and long-term career trajectory.
Beyond commitment and technical proficiency, it is ultimately the uniqueness and individuality of the work that creates genuine interest, momentum, and the desire to collect. The personal story of the artist behind the art becomes a compelling and meaningful layer—an intangible yet powerful presence that completes the work. It is this narrative that draws collectors closer, fostering a deeper connection and a longing to live the journey vicariously through the artist, especially when they are unable to pursue such experiences themselves. This is the most rewarding aspect of being an artist—developing a distinct voice that invites dialogue, provokes reflection, and, over time, contributes to meaningful change.
Being humble while also recognizing one’s own worth is a delicate balance for many creative people. Working largely in isolation, artists inevitably experience moments of self-doubt, especially when their work only occasionally enters the public sphere through exhibitions, talks, or demonstrations. The quiet, solitary nature of the process can make it easy to question the value of what we do.
Yet as artists, we understand that our work is never static—it is always evolving, always part of a larger creative journey. At the same time, we must acknowledge the very real investment that goes into making art: the years of practice, the emotional vulnerability, and the physical effort required to bring something meaningful into the world. It is an honest acknowledgment of the labor and care behind the work created so that others may experience, reflect, and find connection through it.
Artists rarely hold a single role. We are creators, but also designers, web builders, shippers, carpenters, marketers, and business managers—many professions condensed into one. This reality must be reflected in the pricing of our work. Artists cannot work for free, nor should “exposure” be treated as compensation. We seldom ask whether lawyers or doctors would work for exposure alone, yet artists are frequently expected to do just that. This highlights the ongoing need to educate the public: supporting the arts and investing in high-quality work not only sustains artists, but also elevates our shared consciousness, deepens our understanding of the natural world, and contributes to the evolution of cultural values within a society.
This leads to one of the most common pitfalls I see among artists—the trap of formulaic work. It is widespread in Canada, a potboiler work. The comfort of repeating what is known offers a sense of safety, both creatively and financially. Once collectors begin responding to a specific formula, it can become a self-fulfilling cycle that gradually erodes creativity. Artists may grow comfortable in this space because it feels secure and familiar, yet it is rarely challenging. Over time, the work becomes repetitive and overly commercial, losing its deeper artistic intent. When this happens, prices stagnate and eventually reach a saturation point, where each new piece becomes indistinguishable from the last.
True artistic growth requires risk, curiosity, and a willingness to step beyond what is safe. It is this continual push into the unknown that keeps the work alive—and ultimately sustains its long-term value.
I personally see one aspect of art as the most meaningful and, in many ways, priceless: the mark. It is the mark that shapes a painting, drawing, or sculpture, and ultimately determines whether a work feels truly unique or merely common and indistinguishable. Understanding mark-making should be a central, artist-driven pursuit—an intentional pathway toward recognizing how individual marks collectively define an artist’s body of work.
At its core, a compelling artwork is a constellation of marks—their rhythm, placement, density, and interaction within form and space. These relationships create layers of visual engagement that invite the viewer to linger and explore. The mark also defines edge treatment, ranging from loose and gestural to intricate and complex, and its importance cannot be overstated. Yet it remains one of the most consistently overlooked aspects of artistic practice.
Ultimately, it is the quality of the mark that commands value, regardless of how much time a piece may have taken to complete. Time alone does not determine worth. What truly matters are the years of disciplined practice that lead to confidence, intention, and clarity. Much like Japanese brush calligraphy, where a single stroke can capture a moment in space with profound immediacy, the essence of mark-making operates on a subconscious level. This depth can never be achieved through formulaic repetition or mass-production approaches. It emerges only through sustained dedication, presence, and an unwavering commitment to authenticity.