The Art of Exploitation: How Middlemen Are Profiting Off India’s Traditional Artists

In the world of Indian folk art, where every stroke is passed down over generations; the real struggle isn't about creation. It is about survival. Artists across the country fight not just for recognition, but for fair compensation. The problem with creative people is that most of them are looking for ways to expand their work; not for monetary benefits but for their joy. In the meantime, survival becomes necessary to keep up this passion. 

Buy from artists at handloom museums or stalls

And in the process of looking for means of survival, the essential pain-point that arises isnot the shortage of buyers. It's the people who sit between the brush and the buyer, profiting handsomely while the actual creators struggle. Middlemen, art platforms, online galleries, and self-proclaimed curators have turned Indian folk and tribal art into their personal goldmine, extracting wealth without nurturing the source.

Consider this example from a recent buyer of a 6x7 Gond painting: "The artist quoted one lakh, but I negotiated it down to seventy thousand. If I'd bought that same piece from an online gallery, it would've easily run me 2.5 to 3 lakh."said Nikita Gupta, Founder, The Culture Gully.

Gond Art Work (Image: Tribal Museum)

What does this mean for the artist? While middlemen pocket lakhs, creators are left with scraps. This goes beyond pricing strategy. It's exploitation in broad daylight. Let's say an artist prices their work at sixty thousand rupees. A reasonable 40% markup brings it to eighty-four thousand. Even a 100% markup only reaches 1.2 lakh. Sure, platforms handle logistics, marketing, and customer service. But when prices reach 200% of the original price paid to the artist, it reeks of nothing but exploitation. 

What makes this particularly heartbreaking is that better alternatives exist, hidden beneath layers of convenience and ignorance. Throughout India, handloom museums and artisan cooperatives sell paintings directly from creators. Walk into one of these spaces in Assam or Odisha, and you can buy authentic Pattachitra or Madhubani paintings at honest prices that reflect both the craft and ethics behind them. Most buyers don't know these places exist, or they assume direct purchasing is too complicated. This confusion becomes the system's greatest asset, a business model built on keeping people in the dark.

But there's hope. You can either connect directly with artists or seek out platforms that maintain transparent, ethical pricing. Some businesses operate on 30-40% margins and openly disclose how much artists earn per piece. It's still capitalism, but it's not cruelty. It's fairer, cleaner, and keeps art sustainable for both buyers and makers.

We owe it to our artists to cut through this fog. Buying a painting shouldn't feel like solving a puzzle. It shouldn't require detective work to determine whether the creator of something you love earned enough to put food on the table. And it definitely shouldn't cost artists their dignity so someone else can pocket lakhs for uploading photos and wrapping packages.

Ultimately, while a painting might be priceless in meaning, the artist behind it still has rent to pay. When creators walk away with pennies while others count lakhs, we're not supporting art. We're feeding a machine designed to squeeze every drop from the hands that create.

Honestly, the choice remains with the consumer. We can continue enabling this exploitation of artists, or we can seek out the real artists behind the work we admire and ensure our money reaches the right hands.