Every so often, I hear from artists who have been contacted by a former collector—or more often these days, by a collector’s family—asking if they’ll help resell a piece of artwork. Just recently, I had a conversation with an artist whose client from decades ago reached out, hoping the artist would take a small painting back and help find it a new home. I’ve also heard from artists approached by heirs who have inherited artwork and aren’t sure what to do with it.
These kinds of requests can leave an artist feeling conflicted. On the one hand, there’s a sense of loyalty to the collector. On the other, it’s not always clear that taking back or reselling work is the best—or even appropriate—course of action.
Let’s take a look at how to approach these situations with clarity and professionalism.
First, Check the Assumptions
There’s often an unspoken assumption behind these requests: that an artist is somehow obligated to help rehome their past work. But unless you’ve agreed to offer resale assistance upfront (which is rare and usually unwise), you are under no obligation to do so.
You’re not a resale gallery or an estate liquidator. Your energy and effort are best spent creating new work and building future connections—not backtracking into old ones. That doesn’t mean you can’t help—it just means you get to decide whether doing so serves you.
If You Do Decide to Resell the Work
In some cases, it might make sense to help. Maybe the collector was a loyal supporter. Maybe the work is still a good representation of your current style. Maybe you feel a genuine desire to be of service. If that’s the case, here’s how I suggest approaching it:
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Treat it like a consignment. You’re now functioning as a gallery, even if it’s for your own work. That means you should take a commission—typically 50%. That may feel steep to the client, but it reflects your effort and platform, and it’s standard practice in the art market.
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Price it in line with your current market. If your prices have increased, the collector may make back more than they paid originally—even after commission. But that’s not guaranteed, and they need to understand that.
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Skip the provenance story. Unless the collector insists, there’s no need to explain that the work is pre-owned. Buyers care more about the art than its travel history—especially for smaller or mid-range pieces.
If You Don’t Want to Resell the Work
If you’d rather not reopen the chapter, you’re well within your rights to say so. Here are some suggestions you can offer instead:
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Recommend a local resale or consignment gallery. Many communities have secondhand or vintage art sellers who may be open to reselling work, particularly if it’s in good condition and by a known artist.
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Point them to online resale platforms. Websites like Chairish, 1stDibs, or even eBay or Etsy (if the seller is willing to handle the logistics) can be useful for selling artwork. The market will be more casual, but the reach can be wide.
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Suggest donating the artwork. Museums, libraries, hospitals, or nonprofit organizations sometimes accept art donations—particularly if the donor is more interested in a tax deduction or legacy than in recouping value.
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Encourage them to gift it. If resale isn’t a priority, suggest passing it along to a friend, family member, or young collector. There’s something powerful about giving art a new life in a new space.
One Last Note
These conversations, while sometimes awkward, are a reminder that your work has a long life beyond your studio. Someone cared enough to collect it—and even if their circumstances have changed, your art still matters to them.
That doesn’t mean you’re responsible for its next chapter. But you can choose how, or if, you want to be involved—and that choice should reflect where you are in your career and what serves you best.
How about only offering a “trade in” value, say 30% off a new painting, then any resale of the old art is yours to keep!
This is very relevant to me. I recently had the husband of a dear friend approach me and ask if he could return the paintings that they had acquired from me over the years. No money was asked for. My friend has Alzheimer’s and is in a home and he was selling their house. I took them. Another friend came by and saw the pieces. His father had raced at the Woodstock Racetrack years before, and one of the paintings was of the practice sulkies leaning against the barn, both of which brought back wonderful memories to him. The barn had been destroyed by an arsonist. I gave him the painting. He is thrilled, as am I. It is in a wonderful home. One never knows what will become of one’s work.
Cathy, that’s a beautiful example of how art can continue to connect people and hold meaning far beyond its original sale. You handled the situation with generosity and grace—and it’s clear the painting found exactly the right home. You’re right: we never know where our work will travel, or how deeply it might touch someone down the line.
i like the expression of the guy in the video. very funny! i get asked to deal with my past art all the time. its my policy to buy/sell under the same conditions i do for all art offered. If is economically viable and feasible the answer is yes, if not so be it. often the offers are being made not from clients or heirs but from minor dealers or speculators who have bought at auction and want to cash in. if they are up front about how acquired i will consider but if the story is fishy ]not an unusual circumstance] i will not only not take the piece but actively track the sellers activities. this is based on being a very active first and secondary market dealer of art.
for most artists it just does not work to take art back.
Richard, that’s a smart and grounded approach—especially with the rise in secondary market activity and speculative resellers. Clear policies protect your time, your reputation, and your market. I appreciate you pointing out that many of these requests don’t come from original collectors, which changes the dynamic entirely. For most artists, as you said, it’s simply not practical—or wise—to wade back into that territory.
Excellent article with very helpful suggestions! Thank you!
👍👍👍
I wouldn’t get involved beyond pointing them to a gallery that might be able to assist. Once a piece is sold, it’s out of my hands—I’ve moved on to new work and carry no responsibility for what happens to it afterward. If a piece is damaged, I’m always open to helping find a solution, but the idea that I should buy back my own work is baffling and frankly insulting. What kind of logic is that? Is art just an old sweater someone thinks they can return for a full refund a decade later?
Creative work is consistently misunderstood and undervalued in our culture. People often have no grasp of what goes into it—years of skill-building, thought, revision & discipline. After two decades in graphic design, I’ve seen how casually and arrogantly creative labor is treated. It’s not just ignorance—it’s a deep cultural disconnect.
Good answer! I agree
Steven, you’ve articulated something many artists feel but struggle to say out loud. There *is* a real cultural gap when it comes to understanding the value and permanence of creative work. Your analogy is spot on—art isn’t a returnable commodity, and the assumption that it might be treated that way overlooks everything that goes into its creation. Setting clear boundaries, as you’ve done, isn’t just smart—it’s necessary to protect both your time and the integrity of the work.
I have never had to deal with this, but have sold paintings to some elderly who have since died. I often wonder what happened to their collection, and specifically my paintings. I do know of one person who bought an old drawing from an antique store. I was happy to see it was now with someone who loved it.
As you get older, this stuff happens more often. I usually refer the collectors ( more often their family) to the gallery that represents my work and they will offer to take it on consignment. I don’t get involved beyond that.
Linda, that’s a thoughtful reflection—and a reminder that once a piece leaves our hands, it begins its own journey. There’s something comforting about knowing that even if we don’t always see where our work ends up, it can still find its way to someone who connects with it deeply. That kind of quiet afterlife for a piece is part of what makes art so enduring.
I have a question that’s kind of from the other side.
I’m primarily an artist, but through the years, I’ve acquired a nice little collection of works by other artists.
When I moved into a smaller place, I no longer had room to display many of the works I’d collected, especially the largest ones. I knew I’d never move back into a place with more room; and I don’t like the idea of works I’ve loved just sitting in storage – it’s an endless expense, and no one gets to see them.
Some I managed to re-sell to another collector privately; when that didn’t work, I asked the artist’s gallery if they were interested in offering the work for sale (taking a commission, of course), and in one case when the gallery didn’t want the work, I offered it back to the artist for free (making sure to tell him how much I’d enjoyed the work through the many years it had been on my walls but that I just didn’t have room anymore). Note, these works had all been very nicely framed at my own expense (usually for several hundred dollars, which used to be a fair amount of money, at the best frame shop in town), in classic, neutral contemporary-style frames.
Anyway, the one time I did give the work back to the artist, it took him forever to pick it up – nearly a year – and when he did, I got the distinct feeling he was rather crushed that I wasn’t keeping it. Since then, I haven’t tried to give any more works back to the artists, out of worry that they’d find it too demoralizing; but I don’t know what to do with them.
As an artist, I can certainly empathize with any artist’s sensitivity about how their work is received and valued — for many of us, it takes tremendous determination to make and show work despite our anxieties ––; but part of me also feels annoyed. I love the works I’ve made, and if a collector had no space for piece of mine, I’d much rather have it back than have them stick it in storage or worse. And if you don’t value your own work enough to want it back, how can you blame a collector for not wanting to keep it?
So anyway, I’d welcome opinions about what to do with these works, which have now been cluttering my already-cluttered, smaller space for 7 year. I certainly don’t want to try to sell them on e-bay or through a thrift store, where if seen, the perceived value of the artist’s work generally might be harmed. And it kills me to think of trashing them. What would you recommend, or what would you do? I’m not sure I could even quietly, cremoniously cremate them, since some are ceramic or plastic or the like. I’ll be grateful for your advice!
Carolyn, thank you for your thoughtful and honest question—it brings up a side of this conversation that often goes unspoken.
As someone who works closely with artists and collectors, I can say your approach has been more considerate and respectful than most. Offering the work back directly, framed and cared for, with genuine appreciation—that’s rare, and most artists would be lucky to have such a collector.
That said, your experience with the artist who was slow to respond and perhaps emotionally caught off guard isn’t unusual. Many artists don’t have a clear plan for how to handle this kind of situation, and it can hit unexpectedly, especially if the work was from an earlier phase of their career.
Here’s what I’d recommend:
1. Document and Offer Thoughtfully If there are works you’d like to return to the artist or their gallery, send a brief email with a photo, your appreciation, and a kind but clear explanation that you’d love to see the piece placed somewhere it can be enjoyed again. Set a gentle deadline for pickup or response—this keeps the emotional tone warm but gives you closure either way.
2. Seek New Homes with Intention If the artist or gallery passes, consider whether you can gift the piece to someone who might connect with it—family, friends, or an organization where the work could still be appreciated (a library, community center, or art-loving nonprofit). You can even include a brief story of how you came to own it.
3. Protect the Artist’s Market You’re absolutely right to avoid resale channels that could devalue the work. If you do end up donating or gifting, just avoid venues where the work is treated as decorative detritus. You might also note in writing that the piece was given as a gift and not for resale.
4. Shift the Narrative Try not to carry the emotional weight of the artist’s response. Once you’ve honored the work, its care, and its creator, it’s okay to focus on your space and your needs. You’re not discarding the work; you’re stewarding its next chapter.
It’s a complex dynamic, but your empathy, combined with your practical instincts, is the right compass. Letting go doesn’t mean letting down. Sometimes it’s the most respectful thing you can do.
I don’t really agree with the advice in this post. Artists simply are not art dealers. Their job – and their expertise – is in creating art, not marketing it. Why do most art dealers charge 50%? Because it requires knowledge, skill and TIME to sell art. And that time, for an artist would be better spent in the studio. When the wonderful owners of your art, or their heirs, return to you requesting help with resale, it’s better to refer them to a gallery you respect. A gallery is equipped to do them – and your art – a better job in marketing than you will. And it won’t take your time, either. You tell them you completely understand that life changes, and homes change and it’s perfectly ok to resell – reassure them completely – but also reinforce your role as an artist by sending them to an art-selling professional. That will serve them, you, and the art much better. I say this a former artist, an art consultant and an art dealer for about 50 years now who has encountered this situation many times.
Michelle, I appreciate your perspective—and your experience definitely adds weight to the conversation. You’re absolutely right that most artists aren’t equipped, nor should they be expected, to function as dealers. Referring collectors to a trusted gallery is often the best path for everyone involved, and I agree that clear boundaries serve both the artist and the artwork. Thanks for adding that clarity to the discussion.