In a gallery, my job looks simple.

Discern.

That is it.

Who is a good artist. Who will grow. Who will hold their ground. Who will build value over time. Everything else is peripheral. Admin. Logistics. Programming. Conversations. All necessary. None central.

The core is judgement.

And judgement is slow work.

It has taken me years to trust my eye. Years to separate personal taste from long term relevance. Years to understand that excitement is not the same as substance. That novelty fades. That consistency matters.

When I look at an artist, I am looking at several things at once.

The work first. Is the practice serious. Is there rigour. Does it hold up across pieces. Can it sustain a body of work or is it a single clever idea. Does it deepen over time. Does it reveal a mind at work.

Then the trajectory. Can this practice evolve. Can it withstand pressure. Will it mature without losing its core. Is there room for growth without losing clarity.

Then the gallery. Does this artist fit within our vision. Does the work strengthen what we stand for. Does it challenge us in the right way. A gallery without a point of view becomes a shop. I have no interest in running a shop.

Then the market. Value matters. In a structural way. Can this artist build institutional presence. Can collectors commit with confidence. Is there patience. Is there long term thinking.

Then the person.

Is the artist disciplined. Do they show up. Do they handle feedback. Can they endure rejection without collapsing. Can they handle success without losing focus. Talent is common. Stamina is rare.

There are also intangibles. Instinct. Energy. Integrity. A certain inner drive that cannot be taught. Sometimes you sense it quickly. Sometimes it reveals itself over years.

Discernment does not end once I say yes.

Its extension is mentoring.

Guiding an artist is a continuation of that first judgement. It is about sharpening what is strong and questioning what is weak. It is about protecting them from premature exposure. It is about pushing when comfort creeps in. It is about holding them to a standard even when the market is forgiving.

Mentoring is alignment.

Aligning the artist’s ambition with the vision of the gallery. Aligning production with long term positioning. Aligning exhibitions with narrative. Aligning growth with patience.

If discernment is selection, mentoring is cultivation.

One without the other is incomplete.

On the surface, I choose artists.

In reality, I commit to shaping trajectories. I commit to coherence. I commit to building something that has weight over time.

It sounds like one task.

In truth, it is layer upon layer of judgement, risk, responsibility and care.

And I would not reduce it to anything less.