In Praise of the Art Book

Why a shelf of monographs and catalogues might be the most rewarding, and most affordable, way to live with art.

By Nicole Junkermann

Not everyone can fill a home with original art, but anyone can build a library about it, and I have come to think the art book is one of the great underrated pleasures. Long after an exhibition has closed or a painting has gone back behind glass, the right book keeps it within reach. My own shelves have taught me at least as much as the galleries have, and they cost a great deal less. Here is why I keep adding to them.

The monograph: a whole world in one volume

A good monograph is a whole world bound between two covers. To have an artist's life work gathered in one place, in sequence, is something even a major exhibition can rarely manage, and you can return to it whenever you like. I find I understand an artist far better after living with their monograph for a while than after a single visit to a show, however good. The book lets you go slowly, back and forth, until the shape of a whole career comes clear.

The catalogue as a keepsake

The exhibition catalogue is a particular kind of treasure. Bought at the end of a show that meant something to you, it becomes a keepsake of an afternoon you cannot otherwise hold onto. Years later, opening one can return you to the rooms, the order of the works, the mood of the day. I almost always buy the catalogue, and I almost always save it to read at home, where it deepens the memory rather than competing with the art in front of me.

Books that teach you how to look

Some art books are not about a single artist at all, but about looking itself. These are the ones I press on friends who tell me they feel lost in a gallery. A clear, generous writer can hand you a way of seeing that stays with you for life, and unlike a lecture, a book waits patiently until you are ready for it. You do not need many of these. One or two good ones, read slowly, can change how you walk into every exhibition afterwards.

The artist's own words

I have a soft spot for books that give you the artist's own words: their letters, notebooks, interviews and writings. There is nothing quite like hearing, in a maker's own voice, what they were trying to do and where they felt they fell short. It humanises work that can otherwise feel remote, and it reminds you that every finished piece began as someone's uncertain attempt. These books turn admiration into something closer to acquaintance.

The printed image

Then there are the books made to be looked at as much as read: photography books and the great picture books, where the printing itself is part of the art. A well‑made image on good paper has a quiet power a screen never quite matches. I keep a few of these where they can be picked up easily, because they reward an idle ten minutes as much as a serious hour, and they are often the books guests reach for first.

Building a library of your own

You do not need to plan an art library any more than you need to plan a collection. Buy the book from the show you loved. Keep the one that taught you something. Follow your curiosity from an artist to their influences and onward, and in a few years you will have a shelf that maps your own taste more honestly than any list could. It is, I think, the most affordable and forgiving way there is to live with art every single day.

I have shared more of the kinds of books I return to in my notes on art books, and the rest of my writing on looking and collecting lives at nicolejunkermann.info.

Nicole Junkermann

Nicole Junkermann is an entrepreneur, investor and longstanding supporter of the arts. She writes about art, exhibitions and the pleasure of looking, for general readers, at nicolejunkermann.info.