Every painting in this catalogue is shown to you twice. The first image is the painting alone, on a plain, near-white ground, lit softly and square-on. The second is the same painting on a wall, in a room, at something close to the scale it would live at in a home.
We do this deliberately, and the two images do different work.
The studio view is the honest one. It is the painting on its own terms: the colour as true as a screen allows, the edges clean, nothing competing for your eye. This is the image to study. It is also the one we lead with everywhere: in the catalogue, on the painting’s own page, on Instagram. A serious collector wants to see the work, not a stylist’s idea of the work.
The room view is the imaginative one. A painting is not an object that lives in a white void; it lives on a wall, above a table, across from a window, in the particular light of a particular home. The room view exists to help you make that leap: to picture the piece in your space, at the right size, holding its own. We label it as a visualisation, because it is one, and because we would rather you trusted us than be flattered by us.
Between the two, you get something a single photograph cannot give: the work as it is, and the work as it could be. That is the whole idea of the gallery, really: to stand between the painting and the wall it is waiting for.