Collecting Stories: Purposeful Patronage
Patronage in its purest form is the support of an individual or group by another. In the art world, the word ‘Patron’ has become a buzzword and in recent years many have vowed for the spot of having dedicated the most resources to a particular cause. We see individuals, rather than large corporations, sponsoring museum exhibitions, private museums on the rise, and the creation of foundations seeking to supplement where traditional arts funding is failing.
Patronage has shaped the history of art, both in the creation of its masterpieces, but also the wider formation of its institutions and structure. However, approaches to collecting and the art market have changed; we now see masterpieces from art history ending up in private rather than public hands, and the importance placed on the individual increasing.
We are witnessing the rise of new forms of patronage—both personal and large-scale. The phenomenon of the private collector’s museum has become a defining feature of the 21st century, with approximately 400 now established globally. Remarkably, 70% of those focused on contemporary art have been founded within the past two decades. These private institutions can make a significant cultural contribution to their communities by supporting emerging artists, offering educational programs, and revitalizing neglected or declining areas. However, their relationship with public institutions can be complex. Should private museums compensate for the decline in public funding for the arts? And what does this shift mean for society and the future of art?
Valeria Napoleone exemplifies purpose-driven patronage. She is known for providing direct support to artists—such as covering studio rental costs—and for partnering with organizations like the Contemporary Art Society, where she helps fund acquisitions by women artists for regional museums in the UK.
The importance of supporting the arts cannot be overstated. Financial backing not only has an immediate impact on an artist’s career but can also shape the future of art. Early investment in living artists is crucial to ensuring they can continue developing their practice. Yet only a small percentage of artists earn a sustainable income through their work. A report published on Artsy reveals that three-quarters of artists in the U.S. earn less than $10,000 a year from their art, often requiring them to take on other jobs or abandon their artistic careers altogether. In the UK, Hettie Judah’s recent report indicates that most artists make around £14,000 annually and similarly rely on secondary employment to support their practice.
Image: Liesa Bacchus, Study of sugar cane punts, Guyana, 2021, Indian ink and fine liner on cold pressed paper. Courtesy of the artist.
Patronage and philanthropy are frequently perceived as exclusive domains, typically associated with prominent figures like Getty. They are sometimes criticized as vehicles for tax avoidance or vanity projects that serve personal interests while incidentally benefiting the public. However, patronage can often be quiet, impactful exchanges too.
Take Henriane Mourgue d’Algue, the business coach who contacted us in 2022, having googled ‘collecting with purpose’. Since then, we’ve been supporting her build a collection and community rooted in themes of identity and concerned with individual stories. Her approach to supporting the arts is meaningful, removed from ego and concerned only with making the greatest impact with her contribution, exemplified by her recently running the Paris Marathon in aid of Chisenhale Gallery in London.
Earlier this year she joined a panel at London Art Fair on the subject of patronage and spoke about spoke about how important it is for her to give back alongside collecting, and how fulfilling she finds the process of supporting an individual with whom she resonates. Henriane is a patron for our project The Residency, this year funding ceramicist Freya Bramble Carter through a six-week residency at Villa Lena. She also spoke about her support for Second Floor Studios and specifically the artist Liesa Bacchus; Henriane has provided a contribution towards her studio fees for the year. Here, we speak with Henriane and Liesa about the need for this immediate and direct support for creatives.
Henriane Mourgue d’Algue has over two decades of corporate, business management and executive coaching experience across continents and numerous industries. Her current focus is on impact investing, money coaching and accelerating inclusion. Henriane has always had an interest in art having studied Art History at UCL, and aims to give back to the arts through her collecting and philanthropic activities. Henriane collects works and supports underrepresented artists with a particular interest in the subject of identity and cultural exchange. She is the Founding Patron for Second Floor Studios, a Patron of The Residency Community, sits on the Executive Board of the Fondation BeLonging (France) and is interested in supporting projects that benefit artists directly
Image: Henriane Mourgue d’Algue. Courtesy of Henriane Mourgue d’Algue.
Liesa Bacchus (b. 1988) is a British painter of Indo-Caribbean heritage, whose parents hail from Trinidad and Guyana. Liesa’s practice is an exploration of her dual identity, with her family and their history being the main source of inspiration for her paintings. She draws upon their lived experiences in the Caribbean and their subsequent move to England in the 1950’s and 1980’s. Her work addresses themes of colonialism, ‘British-ness’, the Indo-Caribbean diaspora and the indigenous peoples of the lands her ancestors were displaced to through indentureship.
Although Liesa would primarily describe herself as a painter, drawing has continued to be fundamental to her practice, often describing this aspect of the creative process as being ‘the bones for the paintings’. A lot of this stems from the act of drawing as being a cathartic exercise for Liesa, where it gives her agency to re-evaluate and re-center herself as a painter.
Liesa pieces together, personal photographs and stories passed down from generations past with material sourced from documentaries and literature, resulting with each of these components serving as the foundation for the art she creates. Liesa is a member of Second Floor Studios, she lives and works in London.
Image: Liesa Bacchus in her studio. Courtesy of the artist.
Henriane, what does collecting mean to you and how do you go about it purposefully?
For me, collecting is about connection. It’s not transactional or decorative—it’s relational. I’m drawn to works that speak to deeper questions of identity, belonging, and cultural exchange. My background in Art History gave me an early appreciation for context and narrative, but over time, collecting has become less about acquiring objects and more about supporting voices.
Collecting with purpose means being intentional—not just about what you bring into your space, but who you uplift in the process. I support artists mostly at pivotal stages of their careers, be it early or later in life. I’m especially interested in work that reflects the complexity of lived experience, that challenges or reframes dominant narratives.
I spend time getting to know the artists, understanding their processes, their challenges. I support residencies, studio spaces, book publications —because collecting is not just about the artwork, it’s about investing in the conditions that allow that work to exist in the first place. Purposeful collecting, for me, means stepping out of the role of consumer and into the role of enabler.
And importantly, it’s not about status or ego. I don’t expect recognition. The reward is witnessing the growth, the breakthrough, the moment when something powerful comes into being—and knowing I played a small part in making that possible.
Liesa, could you tell us about your artistic practice and what inspires you to make art? How does your own identity and history influence you?
I am first generation English of Indo-Caribbean heritage. My father was born in Gasparillo, Trinidad and migrated to London, England in 1962, he was part of that wave of migration from the Caribbean to Britain that would later come to be known as ‘The Windrush Generation’. My mother was born in Berbice, British Guiana and migrated to London, England in 1987. Art has always been for me a cathartic tool that I use to articulate my thoughts. In the UK there is a severe lack of awareness of Indo-Caribbean culture and Britain’s colonial legacy of Indentureship. Growing up in England I was constantly othered or had my Caribbean heritage questioned. My artistic practice began with painted interpretations of family photographs, as I started to learn more about Indentureship which was a taboo subject in my family this learning began to intwine itself into my compositions. My Art was initially a solitary practice that was purely a self-catharsis but when I started to share my Art on social media, I found myself connecting with the wider Indo-Caribbean diaspora and other descendants of Indian Indentureship. I soon realised that my practice was no longer there to serve me but to serve others.
Liesa, it’s no surprise that artists often have to have another means of income alongside their art making. Could you explain the financial burdens of being an artist living in London and maintaining a studio?
It’s honestly a constant juggling act! From my own personal experiences, the only way that I can continue as a practicing artist and support myself is through jobs that offer part- time shift work. These jobs are all too often not paid that well but it’s the only way that I am able to continue as a practicing artist and have sufficient time for it. Prior to my current studio with Second Floor Studios I was in a studio share, I luckily secured that space as a colleague from a previous job was leaving, had it not been for that I would most likely would’ve been on a long waiting list as affordable studios are a bit of a rarity in London! Having a studio of my own is something that I was working towards and when I contacted Second Floor Studios, I was very fortunate to be offered one that was within my budget. Over the years I’ve seen an increase in submission fees for open calls, so I now only apply for open calls that I’m guaranteed to be selected for or those that align with my ethics.
Image: Liesa Bacchus, First visit to Guyana, 2020, watercolour on cold pressed paper. Courtesy of the artist.
Henriane, what was it about Second Floor Studios, and specifically Liesa that inspired your support?
Second Floor Studios appealed to me because it offers more than just physical workspaces—it creates the conditions artists need to thrive. In a city like London, where affordability is a persistent barrier for so many creatives, Second Floor provides a much-needed infrastructure for emerging and established artists to develop their practice with some degree of stability. I was drawn to its community ethos and long-term vision for supporting creativity in a sustainable way.
When we visited Second Floor and walked into Liesa’s studio, some of her paintings and drawings were on easels and on the walls. I was immediately drawn to her striking black and white drawings. At first, they looked like serene and slightly nostalgic scenes but when considered for a little longer, her meticulous style suggested something deeper, with a possible emphasis on memory, place or storytelling. It all made sense when we read the one page explanation she had left for us. With this context and seeing all the works at once, we could not not be moved by the depth of her engagement with themes of identity, migration, colonial legacy, and cultural memory. Her practice is deeply personal and reflective, and she builds a visual language that feels both intimate and socially resonant. There’s a real emotional honesty in the way she constructs her compositions.
Supporting her studio at Second Floor meant helping ensure she had the space and time to continue building her practice without disruption.
Liesa, what does it mean to you to be supported in this way? How has the support changed your studio practice?
It has helped a tremendous amount! It has enabled me to move into a larger studio space and work on bigger pieces and take on more commission work. Having Henriane’s support is a great boost, and it has given me that agency to pursue and work towards pieces that I most likely would’ve had to put on hold. My main takeaway from my patron support would be, having someone that believes in my practice and can see its potential, as my work isn’t commercial and is most often viewed as quite niche, as there still isn’t much awareness on Indian Indentureship, particularly here in the UK so it’s especially heartening to have Henriane support my practice.
Image: Liesa Bacchus, Indentured Indian labourers working on a banana plantation, Jamaica, 2025, oil and acrylic on canvas. Courtesy of the artist.
Both: Does it mean more to have a direct relationship to the person supporting you/ the person you’re supporting?
Liesa: Being a recipient of a patronage is a big deal especially as the Arts sadly continue to face even more cuts and it’s incredibly admirable that there are those like Henriane supporting artists like me. It really depends, but for me, I personally appreciate that I know Henriane and how she became involved in philanthropic work within the arts and why she has chosen to support my practice. Having that personal insight has inspired me to return the favour and to hopefully support an artist in the future too.
Henriane: For me, it’s about aligning values with action. Supporting an artist directly, within a community like Second Floor, is a way to engage with the art ecosystem in a meaningful, human way—one that centres the artist and their lived experience rather than the market.
Both, how can we encourage more purposeful patronage?
Henriane: What if we thought of patronage not as a grand gesture, but as an ongoing conversation—one rooted in empathy, curiosity, and care? Could supporting the arts be more about participation, about showing up for creativity in ways that feel personal and purposeful? Might we inspire more people to give by making the path more visible, more relatable—and by reminding them that supporting the arts is also a way of supporting dialogue, identity, and the soul of our communities? And yes, I believe that purposeful patronage can begin anywhere: by showing up, by being curious, committed, and willing to care.
Liesa: I think more personal accounts from those involved or have been a recipient of a patronage to show the positive impact it has and how vital it is. Hopefully this will show our government that Art isn’t just a viable career option for a minority but for anyone who wishes to become involved professionally.