Collecting Comic Art: An interview with Romain Baudry (France)

Across this interview with French collector Romain Baudry, one thing stands out clearly: his genuine fascination with artists, their work, and the creative process behind each page.

Romain approaches collecting with real sensitivity. Emotion, curiosity, and respect for artists are at the center of everything he does.

The result is an intimate perspective on collecting, one that quietly invites us to rethink what it truly means to “own” a work of art.

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How did you get into art collecting?

During my teenage years, I was a hardcore comics reader, though not particularly interested in collectibles or original art at the time. Back then, the Internet was still more a curiosity than an everyday tool.

I was living in Paris, where there were many opportunities around me. Almost by accident, I ended up buying a splash page by Ian Churchill from The Coven (Image Comics). I still own it today.

After that, life simply moved on, and for many years I no longer had either the time or the financial freedom to pursue original art collecting. It is only within the last two years that I have truly returned to it.

 

Was there a specific artist, story or moment that sparked your passion for comic art?

There were four major milestones for me.

The awakening to art

As a teenager in the 1980s, discovering Bill Sienkiewicz’s collaboration with Frank Miller on Elektra: Assassin (1986) was a revelation. I immediately understood that this was something operating far beyond the traditional boundaries of comics.

To this day, I consider it one of the most important comics of the decade because it made me realize that, when an artist embraces not only ink and pencil but also painting, collage, and mixed media, comics become full-fledged ART. That realization awakened me to art itself.

The awakening to independent comics

Bernie Wrightson was another essential influence. To me, he remains one of the true masters of the macabre, with an extraordinary command of inking. Inkers are too often overlooked in the comics creation process, and I think that is deeply unfair.

He illustrated some of the most haunting stories I have ever read. I always recommend the short story Jenifer.

His work for Creepy magazine opened the door to independent comics for me. Context matters here: this was the mid-1980s, a prehistoric age in terms of access to information, and outside the United States it was extremely difficult to find anything beyond mainstream titles.

Emotion in comics

Issue #198 of Uncanny X-Men — Ororo’s return to Africa, illustrated by Barry Windsor-Smith — was another defining moment, both emotionally and artistically. It is the kind of comic you read again and again.

An absolute masterpiece.

The first American comic I ever held in my hands

My very first American single issue was Daredevil #281 by John Romita Jr., sent to me by my penfriend in New York during the 1980s. I still remember the excitement of opening a package of comics that had come directly from NYC.

 

 What’s your favorite piece of comic art you own?

All the pieces in my collection are special to me.

I feel a certain responsibility toward artists when owning part of their work. Every piece is carefully framed and displayed properly. Whenever I purchase original art, I automatically include the framing cost as part of the investment. To me, a frame is not an accessory — it is part of the preservation of the artwork itself. It reflects the owner’s responsibility toward the artist. I take great care of my collection and I do not speculate on these works. This is a lifelong passion.

To give more specific examples, two recent acquisitions perfectly illustrate this passion-driven approach to collecting. I used to collect almost exclusively comic art, partly out of passion, but also because comic art still offers the possibility of acquiring original works at relatively accessible prices.

Three months ago, however, I had the opportunity to “upgrade” my collection with an original piece by the major European artist Philippe Druillet. Owning such a work feels like a milestone for any collector — and, to some extent, even a milestone in life itself. I am extremely proud of it.

Another example is a piece by Stuart Immonen from Superman: Secret Identity. I deeply loved that story and felt I absolutely had to own a page from it. Ironically, when I left home that day, buying art was the last thing on my mind. I was simply taking a walk. Then, suddenly, I heard myself say: “I’ll take it.” My immediate reaction was: “What on earth has my mouth just done?”

Those moments are part of what makes collecting so meaningful: the emotional connection to the artwork, the unexpected opportunity to acquire it, and eventually the story that comes with it. 

 

What role do galleries play for shaping your collection?

Aside from purchasing directly from artists, galleries play an essential role.

First of all, a gallery provides documentation: invoices, certificates of authenticity, and traceability. That matters enormously. A gallery gives legitimacy and security to the purchase. 

In the case of The Green Room, my first purchase was in 2023, if I remember correctly. Not only was it my first art purchase in many years, it was also my very first experience buying original art online and from a gallery based abroad. At first, I was hesitant. I had all the usual concerns: Was the artwork truly original? Was the payment process secure? How reliable would the shipping be? At the time, buying original art online did not feel entirely accessible or natural to me. The idea that such works could realistically be acquired in just a few “clicks” still felt strange.

Without going into excessive detail, I can say that buying from The Green Room has always been a genuine pleasure. What I particularly appreciate is that it never feels driven solely by business. There is a real sense of passion behind it. The line-up of artists is outstanding and, through my own experiences as a customer, I truly feel there is a special connection between Icíar, the artists, and the collectors.

 

What leads you to select some pieces and not others?

What draws me in first is usually the artist. If I truly appreciate an artist’s work, then I want to own an original page by them.

I need to feel a genuine connection with the art. That connection generally happens in two situations: either with artists I have followed for many years, which is the most common case, or through a specific book or story that deeply resonated with me, as was the case with Stuart Immonen. As for the artworks themselves, I try to build a collection that reflects a wide range of artistic techniques and approaches. 

I began with a splash page. Then I became interested in pencil-only pages, followed by pages containing dialogue. I am genuinely sad that dialogue is now so often added digitally.

After that, I looked for very different visual atmospheres: a dark page with strong contrasts, another with a fine and elegant line, and later fully colored works.

At The Green Room, I acquired two outstanding pieces by Gabriel H. Walta: one from Phantom Road with deep black washes, and another watercolor piece from X-Men.

My next goal would probably be a double-page spread, or perhaps a self-contained two-page sequence within a single issue — almost like a story hidden inside the story itself.

 

Has your taste changed over time?

It is difficult to answer clearly because my feelings are somewhat mixed.

I am still deeply attached to many of the artists I admired in my youth: Bill Sienkiewicz, Frank Miller, Todd McFarlane, Brett Booth, John Byrne, John Romita Jr., Bernie Wrightson, Bob Layton, Arthur Adams, Barry Windsor-Smith, to name only a few.

At the same time, there are other artists — not mentioned here — whose work I admired when I was younger and whose style I now sometimes question in retrospect.

The opposite can also happen.

For example, I initially appreciated Mr. Walta’s work only moderately. Today, however, I own two original pieces by him and, if I could, I would probably buy his entire production. The turning point came when he posted a Silver Surfer commission on Instagram. In my opinion, it was one of the most impressive depictions of the character I have ever seen.

 

What’s your favorite piece from our gallery?

There are many.

For example, the recent watercolor pages by Gabriel H. Walta are absolutely outstanding.

One of The Green Room’s greatest strengths is its ability to offer top-quality artwork from highly talented creators and acclaimed series — W0rldtr33, The Nice House on the Lake, and X-Men — while still maintaining relatively accessible prices.

Earlier, I mentioned passion as something that defines your gallery, and I genuinely believe that The Green Room’s pricing policy reflects that philosophy.

I am also very fond of Mr. Lafuente’s A4 pieces and, of course, the Nice House on the Lake monoprint by Mr. Martínez Bueno. One of those pieces is currently hanging in my living room.

 

What advice would you give to someone who wants to start collecting art?

I think the first and most important question is: “What are you collecting art for?”

In my case, what I love most is the idea of owning something truly unique.

I love taking the published comic and placing it side by side with the original artwork, discovering details that exist beyond the printed frame — almost like seeing a deleted scene from a film, or accessing a hidden behind-the-scenes process that very few people ever get to experience. That unique connection means a lot to me. I also love sharing my collection with friends, introducing them to the world of comics, and even proposing pieces for exhibitions. If you are driven by that kind of passion, then even an affordable piece can already bring enormous satisfaction.

However, if you are pursuing works that are far more expensive and difficult for you to afford, I think it is important to ask yourself why you truly want them.

Is it passion?
Social recognition?
Bragging rights?

Most of the time, it is probably a combination of all three. But if vanity becomes too important a part of the equation — even just a small percentage too much — it eventually creates a sense of emptiness rather than fulfillment.

Personally, I also try to avoid collecting “collector’s editions,” variant covers, merchandise, or similar items. For me, nothing compares to owning a genuine one-of-a-kind original piece. I place very little value on limited editions or collectibles compared to original art.

Finally, I would say that buying original art is also one of the best possible ways to support artists directly. Supporting artists means helping them continue creating the books and stories that make us dream.

Dreams are precious assets in life — perhaps now more than ever.