The Gallerist Making Serious Art Seriously Inviting
Courtesy of Amélie du Chalard
Amélie du Chalard
The Gallerist Making Serious Art Seriously Inviting
By Bonnie Langedijk
The art world has a reputation for closing ranks. Amélie du Chalard didn’t wait for permission—she simply built her own door.
The former investment banker turned gallerist, founded her eponymous gallery in 2015. Her knack for making fine art feel both desirable and accessible, allowed her to carve out a new lane between elitist institutions and the old-school salon circuit. With locations in Paris and, more recently, in New York’s Soho, she moves with ease between two cultural epicenters, navigating the nuances of both markets with the confidence of someone who understands that art isn’t just regional—it’s relational.
Her gallery feels less like a white cube and more like a collector’s home—intimate, instinctive, and driven by dialogue. Amélie champions materiality and unapologetic beauty.
The artists she supports span generations and disciplines—painting, sculpture, photography, installation—but what connects them is presence. In a world quick to dismiss commerciality as shallow, she proves aspiration, accessibility, and aesthetic pleasure can live in the same space. Working closely with critics and art historians, she builds rich context around artists’ practices while investing in the next generation of collectors, creating experiences that feel like conversations, not transactions.
Here, she speaks to us about resisting art-world snobbery, shifting generational tastes, and why not having a formal art education might be her biggest strength.
The Mercer Street gallery. Photography by Gaelle Le Boulicaut. Courtesy of Amélie du Chalard.
The Mercer Street gallery. Photography by Gaelle Le Boulicaut. Courtesy of Amélie du Chalard.
Do you remember the first artist or artwork that really left an impression on you?
Amélie: My mother is an artist, so I spent all my childhood going to exhibitions. I remember two of them really well. The first one was a show of Magritte in the Luxembourg Garden Museum. And to be honest, I don't like Magritte now, but as a kid the surrealism is quite funny. Another one is the Nymphéas of Monet at Musée de l'Orangerie. I remember I felt very small in this huge room.
Do you remember if there was a specific catalyst for opening the gallery? What was that gap that you saw in the market?
Amélie: This gap, it's particularly visible in France. You have the big galleries and tiny galleries in Saint-Germain that are quite old school. When you compare it to the retail market, there is no affordable luxury market. This intermediary market interested me a lot. A journalist from Le Figaro called me the Isabel Marant of the art market once. Opening the gallery wasn't a coincidence, but many different things happened in my life at the same time. At the time I was living in Saint-Germain, and I really had bad experiences in galleries. I was buying a lot of pieces, because lawyers and bankers I knew wanted me to help them to purchase things. All of those things made me realize that I wanted to create something different. I’m not afraid to take risks, so I just said to myself if it doesn’t work I’ll go back to investment banking.
“The art market is really SNOBBISH and has very, traditional and strict codes. It's difficult to be accepted in this market.”
In the creative sector doing something that’s accessible or commercial, is often looked down upon. Especially in art, when you think about wanting to be a serious artist, that's the worst kind of association they can make. What are some of those traditional codes of galleries that have remained?
Amélie: The art market is really snobbish and has very, traditional and strict codes. It's difficult to be accepted in this market. The boundaries between art and design are moving, and you see companies such as Future Perfect, as well as carpenters, galleries—and even the big galleries—are now working with luxury brands. Yayoi Kusama with Louis Vuitton, Dior with Eva Jospin. But in Europe, if you want to make an artist known, you have to move with the institutions. It's different in the US, because the big collectors are the ones who really support an artist. It's also why they're more powerful because there are more of them and they have more money.
Commercial work can also still be very aspirational. I think there's still this belief that commercial equals superficial.
Amélie: Another problem is the concept of beauty. When we say about an artwork that it's beautiful, it's almost a bad word in the art world. It's not because something being beautiful is a bad thing. At the end of the day, you want to live with beautiful pieces that are inspirational. When you have a look at all the main artists of the 20th century, their work is beautiful. Matisse is beautiful, Rothko is beautiful. Giacometti is beautiful.
How would you describe your curatorial lens through which you decide whether something is the right fit for the gallery?
Amélie: At the beginning, the curation was mainly focused on abstraction. But now, not as much. We have emerging and established artists and all techniques and mediums. Paintings, ceramics, photographs, textile art, sculptures, everything. When you are looking at an artwork, you have an optic effect, but you have another effect that in French we call haptic effect. It's when you’re pulled in by the texture of the work. The common point of everything is this haptic. I'm interested in the texture and the materiality of the pieces. It could be a painting with a very strange technique or ceramics with a specific glaze.
In a way you're a bit of an outsider, because you sit between design, art, sculpture. Do you feel part of the traditional art world and how has your gallery allowed you to create an experience outside of the rules of that traditional model?
Amélie: I don't think I'm part of the traditional world, but I am considered an art gallery. My freedom probably comes from not having an academic background in art. I have allowed myself to do more things than I could have if I had grown up surrounded by their code. I’ve created this experience of a gallery space that's more like a collector's home. I don't feel part of the traditional art world, but I think that the traditional art world is changing now. It's evolving into something that's more similar to our approach.
Amélie Du Chalard’s Paris gallery on 18 rue Séguier. Courtesy of Amélie Du Chalard.
How people want to see things in space is changing. There's this new generation of collectors who aren't used to the old school way of doing things. How do you think that a more residential setting affects the gallery experience? How does that explore that dialogue between art and design?
Amélie: It helps a lot with the collectors, with the artists less so. First it's what you just said. Secondly, they want to stay longer in this space. They come to us to have a real moment here. And third, they want to have a conversation, because we are seeing them mainly by appointment. We often curate the space specifically for them. It's a dialogue between two people. 50% of my collectors are now almost friends. I know about their lives, I know their homes. I know what they like, what they don't like. I know what the husband likes. We have a relationship of trust. They are really happy to discover new artists. When we are welcoming new artists, we host a lot of events also to educate and deepen their sensitivity with artists or art critics.
And the artists?
Amélie: An artist is mainly insecure. So when you are suggesting to present things differently than the traditional way, it's not so easy at the beginning. Once they saw the respect I had for their work, and the way we show works as a gallery—I mean, it's not a flea market here. It's really curated and definitely of a certain level—it became easier. The design is really in the background. It's just here to accompany your experience here. And it's funny because even now some very important artists who are with other galleries are coming to see us. One of them said : "No, but I think you have a different type of collector than the other galleries, so I'm really interested in working with you." We have a lot of young collectors, many of them are between the age of 25 to 40, which isn't an easy audience to capture. You have to have another way of thinking.
How has owning your own gallery influenced your personal view of art?
Amélie: I think my view of the art world has deepened. I’ve learned to balance personal taste with the diverse perspectives of collectors and artists. We have a committee for the selection of artists. There's one art critic and one big collector of mine on it, and we meet every three months. I present them with the new artists, and I ask them what they think. It's quite interesting because I realized that I don't see everything and that the way I look at an artwork is quite different. I look for three pillars in an artwork. First, an artistic approach, second technique, and three an aesthetic. For me, a good art work has a good balance of these three pillars.
Amélie Du Chalard’s Paris gallery on 18 rue Séguier. Courtesy of Amélie Du Chalard.
Amélie Du Chalard’s Paris gallery on 18 rue Séguier. Courtesy of Amélie Du Chalard.
It's always good to have a kind of filter through which you make decisions. There's increasingly this overlap between creative industries. How do you think that cross pollination of industries is impacting the art world, and what do you think are some of the opportunities there?
Amélie: The parallel with the world of luxury is interesting. Art is, I think, a major marketing tool now. It's why this merging with art carries very virtuous meanings. For the art world, it's nice on one hand because it gives visibility to artists. There is a famous champagne brand and each year they invite two artists to design their label. One of our artists, Garance Vallée, was selected two years ago. It's a great way to become more well known. But it can also be negative. After a collaboration like that, it's difficult for an artist to get out of it. One of our artists, Alexandre Benjamin Navet, was doing a lot of shows and a lot of commission for collectors. Now, he's the main artist for van Cleef & Arpels. He's living thanks to this collaboration. It's a two year contract, and it's already been renewed twice. But it means he's not working on his artistic research. With a partnership like that, it's more difficult to evolve as an artist, because there's less incentive and less time.
There's so many now as well. For example, Judy Chicago with the Dior show comes to mind for me. I think it's all about the execution. Is it just a picture on a t-shirt or is there more to it? And I also think there's again, that idea of serious artists or not, where Daniel Arsham, for example, has done so many commercial projects too, where he is now maybe more associated with popular culture rather than the traditional art world.
Amélie: When it's very appropriate, why not? But if it's just a one shot stuff on a t-shirt, why say yes to it as an artist?
Agreed. What excites you about the future?
Amélie: The market codes are starting to shift and I'm curious to see how the major players will adapt and what some more modest players like me will achieve by imposing our view and our way of thinking and showing. I'm positive and optimistic about the future of the art world. I have also made bets on some of my artists and I'm interested to see if I'm right or not. If I can achieve to push an artist.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.