Advice to an Aspiring Collector: Christian Just Linde

Was there a specific experience or meeting that inspired you to start collecting art?

I have always enjoyed looking at art. I believe that what sets us apart from other animals is that we are collectors, and there are many ways to collect. Ever since I was a child, I felt an urge to collect something. It eventually became art.

My parents had friends who were art dealers, and since there weren’t many galleries in Denmark back then, I was able to use my savings to purchase some pieces through them—likely at a good discount. After buying my first pieces at 12 or 13, I even became interested in art myself and studied painting in Florence, where I was influenced by a strong emphasis on classical art.

I came back almost brainwashed, unable to accept modern art because of the strong emphasis on classical art I was exposed to there. So I had a period where I collected much more naturalistic art. When I later realised that there was a world beyond Florence in the late 90s, I started to open up towards other art forms and also started visiting art fairs.

Can you tell me about the first artwork you purchased?

It was an [Pierre] Alechinsky watercolor I bought from Børge Birch, who was the biggest dealer of CoBrA at that time. He worked with artists like Asger Jorn, [Pierre] Alechinsky, and [Karel] Appel. He introduced both me and my parents to Alechinsky, and I found his painting technique, using Japanese ink on various prints, newspapers, and other materials, quite fascinating, as it was very different from traditional oil paintings.

What characterises your approach to collecting?

It is completely solo and 100% me. It’s my own form of therapy—I like that it’s my own decision. When I buy art, the visual aspect needs to be there, but there also has to be something that triggers my subconscious in some way.

If the gallerist has a supporting story for what initially caught my eye in a work of art, then it justifies my liking of the piece. It doesn't mean I’ll buy it, but it can be a reason to do so at least. It shouldn’t just be pretty for the sake of being pretty.

In your view, how has the art scene changed in recent years?

I read an article recently, about the 200 biggest art collectors in the world. I think I knew... 10 of them. Most of them just sold an IT company for a billion and now has one of the world’s largest art collections. It’s a bit... Well... It’s not passion like it used to be, it has become very commercial.

How has your approach to collecting changed over the years?

It's constantly changing. You learn and evolve with the times. There is always a new trend that defines each decade or even shorter periods. In the late 90s and through the 2000s, I was very open to all kinds of art and was quite spontaneous. But when you suddenly get a collection of a certain size, and don’t like to have too much in storage, you start to narrow down again.

So you've been open to new trends influencing your choices over the years. Now you try to narrow it down—how do you do this?

Something I began exploring a few years ago is identifying the artists who initially sparked my passion for collecting art, and then discovering those who have either influenced or been inspired by them. James Turrell, for instance, has inspired some of the artists I admire, and they, in turn, have had their own influence. As a result, I’ve started collecting works from those artists as well. I now have a range of artists who, I feel, complement and support the others in my collection. This was because I felt that the art scene became so overwhelming at one point, I felt the need to narrow my focus and explore what actually supports the collection—to find a number of key figures.

But it is insanely difficult and perhaps more or less an impossible task. I went to the Venice Biennale and told myself to be really, really critical, only to find something I thought was fantastic. But as I am in the middle of a move, I am trying to use this time to sort through my collection and to hold back a little.

Do you ever sell from the collection?

Very little, very rarely. However, there are things I part with. There are artists who stop making art, artists who are satisfied with reaching a certain stage, and artists who develop in a different direction than I do. So I sort that out, but it is incredibly difficult for me to do. Additionally, I believe the art scene lacks a place for the secondary market. When you sell something at auction, it can either skyrocket in value, completely devalue or hold its price. There is a very large percentage of art that has no value on the secondary market, even though it is good art. I feel bad both for the work and for the artists if a price of an artist is dumped at auction. On the other hand, it seems wrong for such pieces to sit in storage, gathering dust. So, in some way, it’s better that they are sold and bring joy to young people who think they are good pieces and who can acquire them at a lower price.

As a collector, there’s a charm in being spontaneous. You also make mistakes, develop, grow out of things, and grow with things. You also find out that some art lasts and some art doesn’t, perhaps for personal reasons but also for quality reasons. So that’s what I miss most in the art scene; a market where you can trade or exchange pieces afterwards. I would say I am less spontaneous now than I once was, but part of that is due to the lack of a stable and structured market system.

You’ve been curating themed presentations of your collection in your barn for some years. Could you elaborate on your motivation for this?

When I started going to fairs, the galleries I fell for were often South American stands. So early on I started collecting art from South America by coincidence. Before this, I had never tried to curate my collection before, but saw an opportunity to do so in my barn. I found that it actually hung together quite nicely as it tells a story of the choices I had made. The same thing happened again with the hanging I did the following year: 'Black, White & Gold', where I had found that I had actually been collecting quite a few works that were black and white. Then there was gold in some of them, so therefore I had to include gold. So even though I felt like I had chosen pieces at random, I found there to be a cohesiveness in my choices during certain periods of my life.

You can also do this even if you just have a wall with smaller works as you can quickly see that it fits together - or at least it fits you. Maybe others would say it looks like a mess, but for you, it tells a story of the choices you have made.

You mentioned that you attend many art fairs. Is that your primary source of inspiration?

I have worked in the furniture industry and been to many furniture fairs, so for me, it has been quite fun to go into some of the same halls that I have walked in where it has just been furniture. Therefore, it has been a very natural way for me to go and look at art.

I also use the fairs because there is so much art available that it’s almost completely overwhelming—you are constantly bombarded. There are periods where I spend more time deleting art information than looking at it. So, if you visit a gallery stand at an art fair and you like the way it is curated, then the gallery may share a similar perspective on art as you do. In that case, this gallery can be used as a kind of filter.

What was your latest art purchase, and what motivated it?

The latest Danish art purchase I made was two toilets created by Esben Weile Kjær. For me, he is one of the Danish artists who has the whole package. He doesn’t create classical paintings; instead, his starting point is performance, which leads to many other super interesting works. To me, he is somewhat of a modern pop artist. In the toilets, there are objects he has collected that lie in a sort of limbo. Should they be flushed away and disappear from history? Essentially, they remain down there and will be there for an indefinite time because they are cast in epoxy. I find this quite intriguing.

Also by him are some Diddl sculptures that I used to display in my garden and which have now been moved to ARKEN [Museum of Contemporary Art]. Here, he takes this pop phenomenon, which was once widely popular among young people and children but has since disappeared. From this he builds a story about what happened to the Diddl figures after their decline, which I find quite amusing. I really appreciate how he does not necessarily confront what is current, but rather reflects on what was once current and what has become of it.

The latest foreign purchase I made is a work by an artist named Li Ran. He has a somewhat naturalistic way of painting with slightly distorted figures. I wanted to see more of that, even though I don’t have much Asian art in my collection.

What advice would you give your younger self when you first started collecting?

Well, it’s a bit ambiguous. On one hand, I wouldn’t change the way I’ve done it and on the other hand, I maybe would have bought better quality. Then I might have fewer works of higher quality. But then I wouldn’t have made the same spontaneous purchases of very young artists. I have learned something from this and it has reflected my personal approach to art.

So, I wouldn’t discourage young people from being spontaneous as I have enjoyed following the artists and their journeys. Someone like FOS, for example, whom I bought from his first exhibition, when he exhibited at Gallery Christina Wilson (now Wilson Saplana Gallery) right after graduating from the academy, has been a fantastic artist to follow. Martin Brandt Hansen, who graduated from the academy last year, is also an artist I am looking forward to following.

I would therefore advise myself to do one thing; be yourself and make your own decisions. Then you can always stand by it afterwards. Don’t listen to everyone else. There is such a big confused world out there. I become more confused when I get advised. People are also different; some have total order in their home, so perhaps minimalist art suits them better. So you need to find out what kind of person you are.

I have also bought art from artists who perhaps don’t have a market value. But I still think it’s good art, as it has a charm value. Otherwise, you might as well go out and buy stocks if you don’t care about the visual aspect of it.