From Desire to Collection: A Conversation on What Art We’d Love to Own
After a weekend wandering through the dreamy corridors of RMB Latitudes Art Fair, a wild and beautiful idea took root: what if we started a stokvel to buy the art that moved us? Our mothers knew the power of collective pockets. Pooling resources, dreaming in community. Why not do the same, not for groceries or weddings, but for legacy, for beauty, for culture?
Let’s pause on the daily matcha and invest in something more lasting – in artists, in stories told on canvas, in the pulse of creativity that surrounded us at Shepstone Gardens. The venue itself felt enchanted. The galleries showed up and showed out.
We always yap and debrief after these kinds of things, but this one? It was different. Intentional. 10/10 across the board. So here’s our mission: re reka art
As someone who purchased their first art work at this art fair? What advice do you have for someone who had a misconception when it came to pricing models some galleries and artists have?
Ana: Honestly? The biggest advice I can give is: unlearn the myth that art is always out of reach. I used to think buying art meant dropping tens of thousands, but this fair showed me that there’s a wide spectrum and most galleries are way more open to conversation than we think. Some even offer payment plans or are happy to negotiate within reason.
My first purchase felt like such a full-circle moment not just collecting a piece, but supporting an artist whose work I truly connected with. The gallery I purchased from offered pricing from R1600 onwards depending on the size of the canvas.
What drew you to collecting art in the first place and how has that reason evolved over time?
Renaé: My journey into collecting art began after Hlengs acquired her first piece. I had always admired art and imagined myself, one day, as a collector but only when I had “arrived,” when being able to afford and have disposable income would grant me effortless access to galleries and fairs to make purchases. I saw it as a future self’s privilege, not a present possibility. But witnessing how accessible it truly was especially through installment payments was a quiet revelation. It disrupted the narrative I had internalized about who art was for, and when one was “ready” to collect. I began to understand that collecting art isn’t about financial status but about what you value and your intention.
Now, I think of art the way I think of the objects that shape my everyday world, not in terms of cost, but in terms of meaning and priority. These are things I choose to surround myself with because they reflect how I live, what I care about, and what I’m building. In that sense, art is no longer a distant luxury, it’s a language I participate in.
Hlengiwe: It has always been fascinating to me how certain pieces of art were and are able to speak to my lived experience, unearth a memory, and/or affirm my existence on this plane, and this has fuelled the desire of acquiring. When Aza Mbovane and Mosa Molapo had their first showcase as The Purpose is Discourse with the Stevenson Gallery, that was my first entry to the world of “art buying”. They changed my life by making art collecting accessible rather than just aspirational.
Has a particular artwork or artist changed the way you think about ownership or storytelling through art?
Renaé: I am still yet to purchase an artwork that does this for me.
Hlengiwe: I’ve actually been struggling a bit with the words “ownership”, “buying/purchase” and even “collecting”. The struggle comes from me interpreting the words as somewhat self-indulgent with a kind of connection to a warped sense of power. I could definitely be overthinking things (open to be freed from this should you have better insight) but what puts me at ease is my intention behind said “collectorship”.
So to answer the question, I understand collecting as marking or documenting my personal lived experiences. For instance, my first piece being Mahube Diseko’s sculpted underwear, found me at a point where I was grappling with sexual intimacy and experiencing the vastness of romantic love, so it was fitting to have her move in with me.
I love it when I see an artwork and it doesn’t simply state what it is but is in dialogue with me. That’s the deciding factor on whether I would like to have it tag along as a friend or not; where I am spoken to but can also speak back, and that conversation never being static but ever-evolving and expanding.
What’s one thing you wish someone had told you before you started collecting? (especially the financial aspect of it.)
Renaé: I believe it’s quite important for young Black women to step into the role of art collectors and as custodians of culture. For many of us, this is a first-time experience, our ancestors collected and preserved objects of meaning, tools, textiles, stories, passing them down through generations. What we’re doing now is not entirely new; it’s a continuation, but within a context that once deliberately excluded us.
To collect art today is to assert our presence in a space that was never designed for us. It is a quiet act of resistance and reclamation.
From a financial standpoint, collecting art is more accessible than it appears. Paying in installments isn’t a burden, it’s a matter of choice and perspective. When you understand the deeper value of what you’re investing in, it becomes less about affordability and more about priority. And before you realise it, the piece is yours not just the artwork, but the meaning it carries, the legacy it builds, and the space it claims.
What role do community, conversation, or mentorship play in shaping your taste and confidence as a collector?
Renaé: I think I can speak more about the community. Watching my friend cultivate a community of Black art collectors has stirred something in me, a longing not just to own art, but to belong to a lineage of meaning-making. Entering the homes of these women and seeing artwork that reflects us created by Black artists, owned by Black women is so beautiful.
It brings me so much joy, but more than that, it deepens my understanding of what it means to collect. These pieces aren’t just beautiful, they carry memory and identity. They’ve shaped my own sense of taste, guiding me toward works that speak to my understanding of self. The artwork I’m drawn to now must mean something, and sometimes I am looking for worlds that echo who we are, and who we’re becoming.
Hlengiwe: Having friends and acquaintances who either work in the art industry or are practising artists makes me want to be part of that ecosystem.
Ana: As someone that is now looking at intentionally collecting. I’ve been interested in getting to know how people around me invest in their taste and why they do. I find that I learn a lot about how I broaden my knowledge about art and meaning. I’ve also found that in my work in writing about artists has shaped my confidence in talking about art. They are my guides in this conversation.
