People often ask what I’m actually looking for when I’m sourcing vintage art.
Is it the artist? The age? The provenance?
The honest answer is simpler and more instinctive than that. I know almost immediately whether a painting is right or not. It’s an instinctive yes or no.
I look at thousands of paintings a day (yes, really!), but only a handful ever make it through. Most are ruled out in seconds.
That first response matters. If I don’t feel something straight away, I move on. No amount of explanation or justification can force a connection that isn’t there.
How I developed my eye for vintage art
This way of sourcing hasn’t come from studying art history or following the art market. It’s come from years of looking and following a passion.
Over time, you start to see patterns of things that you like. The things you are drawn to. What works in real homes. What people actually live with. What still feels right months and years later. My eye has been shaped as much by what I’ve said no to as what I’ve chosen. I think my style is ever evolving, growing and refining.
When I started sourcing, I probably wouldn't have confidently chosen abstracts, people or nudes for example. Landscapes felt safer. Over time I have really learnt my own eye and what makes me happy to hang on my own walls.
Then I look closer
Once a painting has passed that first instinctive test, I slow down and look more carefully.
I consider:
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Colour: I love colourful paintings, nothing too grey or black.
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Scale: I don't typically sell anything too big and the scale is more important than the size.
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Condition: Small tears, marks, chipped frames wouldn't stop me but the condition is a factor
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Framing: I try to overlook the framing as I can change this if required
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Budget: I am always flexible for the right pieces but looking at the guide price if at auction and seeing what interest a piece has is a good starting point to being realistic
And, crucially: would I happily live with it myself?
That question is non-negotiable. If I wouldn’t want a painting on my own wall, it won’t make it into a Hue drop. Art has to earn its place in a home, including mine. I enjoy the pieces in my home studio until they sell and go onto new homes. I think its so important that you only fill your home with beautiful things that you love and collect over time. You don't need a place in mind, you'll always find a spot, you just need to know that you love it.
Colour, scale, and how art lives in a space
Colour is often the first thing that draws me in. I like colour in so many varying tones; muted, moody, soft, bold, earthy, pastels, brights... for the right paintings there are no rules but often if I'm not 100% on a piece I think of it as part of the wider collection to see if its right - is it cohesive?
Scale is equally important. A beautiful painting can feel completely wrong if the proportions are off. Some of this comes down to personal taste, but there’s also a practical reality: how a painting will live on a wall, in a room, and alongside furniture. Your eye sees the negative space first and sometimes a larger piece holds too much negative space for me. Perhaps you are the opposite and enjoy the breathing space these pieces can offer, its very personal.
Vintage art doesn’t need to shout to make an impact. Often, it’s the softer pieces that can really grow on you over time.
Condition, framing, and practical considerations
Condition matters, but perfection isn’t the goal. Small signs of age can add character and authenticity. What I’m looking for is integrity, a painting that has aged well and can continue to be enjoyed for years to come.
Framing isn’t essential, as many pieces are reframed once they arrive, but it’s still part of the overall assessment. The right frame can elevate a painting; the wrong one can distract from it. I’m always thinking about how a piece can be presented so it feels at home in a contemporary interior. I need to quicky visualise it reframed if its in a particularly unflattering frame.
There’s also an element of reality involved. Transport, storage and scale all play a part in what I can reasonably source. These considerations ensure that every piece is practical as well as beautiful. I have sometimes regretted bigger pieces as they are really tricky to ship and they often don't sell as quickly as customers don't have the wall space like they might for a smaller piece. If you are looking for larger pieces, do share a brief and if I spot anything I can share with you.
What about provenance?
For me, the emotional response always comes first. Provenance isn’t a deciding factor for me. I don’t source based on artist names. That said, understanding where a painting has come from often helps me appreciate its story and context. It can add depth and meaning, even if it doesn’t influence the final decision. Its also really wonderful to credit the artist and their memory. I particularly love knowing the year something was painted above all else for context.
I have mainly been sourcing in France and Sweden over the last few years. Swedish culture is wonderful for provenance, often you'll find clippings on the back of a painting which is so fun to discover.
What matters most when choosing vintage art
When people ask what matters most when choosing vintage art, I always come back to the same things: feeling, and connection.
A painting should be should be something you can imagine living through years of redecorating or house moves. Does it keep winking at you? Does it make your heart sing? Do you keep thinking about it? Its probably for you if you are thinking like that.
Being selective on purpose
I’m picky and I'm always striving to be pickier! That might sound a little odd but in a very competitive world I would rather offer you 300 perfectly curated pieces I truly love with a fairly distinct look than 1000 average pieces with a few hero's thrown in. I am constantly evolving my style the more I submerge myself into the odyssey that is the art world.
I’m not selling vintage art simply because it’s vintage. Each piece is chosen because it genuinely speaks to me. I want every painting to feel special, considered, and right.
Not every painting needs to appeal to everyone. Just like buying houses, art only needs to appeal to the one person it’s meant for.
What this means for every Hue drop
Every Hue drop is the result of this process. It’s slow, selective, and personal.
That’s why pieces come and go each week. It’s why there aren’t thousands available at once. And it’s why each painting feels special. This is what goes into every piece you see at Hue.
