Living with Art: A Conversation with Visual Index Owner Toni Tronu

Toni Tronu's Winston-Salem living room is—chef’s kiss—deliciously, satisfyingly full.

It’s stocked with texture, depth, and dimension. Like a magnet, a surrealist landscape painting with metallic water pulls your eye across the room; the framed canvas hangs on a dove-grey wall above a fireplace mantel, on which there’s a playfully placed sculpture: a miniature blue house is positioned so that the painted ocean estuary above transforms into chimney smoke.

Was it positioned that way on purpose? Although I asked her lots of questions during our interview (below), this wasn’t one of them, but the way Toni’s displayed her collection throughout her house suggests an intentional placement. Every object evokes a relationship with the others—complimentary or full of tension, abstract or hyperreal—inviting consideration, daydreaming, and conversation.

As the owner and curator of Visual Index in Downtown Winston-Salem’s Arts District, Toni spends much of her time sharing her love for collecting with the world. To step inside her home is to see the gallery’s mission in action: art from living artists, from all 50 states, that’s meant to be lived with, not thought of coldly as an investment, and not to be rigidly “protected”, sequestered from little hands, paws, the rhythms of daily life.

We sat down to discuss these and other imagined threats to the enjoyment of art, and how Toni came to this work.

I hope our conversation encourages you to buy art and objects that make your home feel alive—for yourself, your family, and anyone lucky enough to step across your threshold.

As Mr. Plumbean says in what is perhaps my favorite-ever children’s book, The Big Orange Splot by Daniel Pinkwater (1977): “My house is me, and I am it. My house is where I like to be, and it looks like all my dreams.”

Personally, that’s what I’m striving for. I’m not there yet, but I feel grateful to have Toni in my corner while I try. You can, too, with Visual Index—online or in person. Visit today.

AS: Do you have a memory of the first piece of art you actually noticed as a kid or young adult?

TT: Actually, yes! I do—it's a Psyche print, and it's in my house now. It always hung in the foyer of my house growing up. Psyche is this mythical woman depicted with wings, bare-chested, and she represents knowledge and freedom for women. A man came into my mom's bookstore wanting to find a depiction of this figure in a book, and it was really hard to find. To thank her for helping him, he brought her the print I now have, a Chicago World's Fair poster from 1893. She's on this little rock in front of a river, surrounded by irises. It was probably the first piece of artwork that really intrigued me—this strong woman depicted in such freedom. It went to my sister, and then it didn't fit her house, and I was like, "It is mine. I've always wanted this." So now it hangs in my entryway.

AS: Is there a piece in your home that you'd never part with, never sell?

TT: My husband Robert and I actually wrote a song about this. There's a line in the lyrics that says, "This piece of art owns me more than I own it." Our dear friend Branch Richter painted it, and it's all blue—this smoky, misty landscape out in a field. It's unlike a lot of his other work. If this house was burning down, once our daughter and animals were safe, that piece comes with us. There are several pieces in this house I'd be devastated to lose, but that one in particular.

AS: What's the worst advice you've ever heard about choosing art for your home?

TT: I've heard it all! Matching your art to your color scheme…not having any room left on the walls—I don't agree. You do not have to have the perfect space for a piece of artwork. You buy that artwork if you're in love with it, and you’ll find the space.

And framing. Framing is such a weird world. Some people are so particular about the frame that they don't want to buy a piece framed. Some people are so afraid of framing that they don't want to buy a piece unframed. Some people don't buy the piece because they don't like the frame. At first I didn't realize that part of my job is giving people the confidence to get what they actually want. We can problem solve! You can take that frame off. We can get a cheap frame. It doesn't have to be the perfect frame right now. Stick it in a frame, and if down the road you still think you need to reframe it, then do it.

AS: What are some of the ways you help people make that jump—giving them confidence or permission to get what they want?

TT: I think if it's a big purchase, people want to be told it's okay. They're like, "Oh gosh, it seems like a lot of money." And it's like, well, maybe, but if you're in love with this and you've come back to the gallery several times to look at it, you're not going to regret it.

I had a man buy a painting—he came in probably seven times to look at it before purchasing it. He actually just came in again the other day, now looking for another piece. He spent that money, he loves it, and now he’s coming to tell me stories about how other people are reacting. You have this confirmation, once you commit and then don’t have regrets. Getting into a habit of buying artwork can give you evidence that buyer's remorse won’t happen when you find something you love—you don’t feel duped or like you've done something wrong.

AS: You sell a mix of functional and non-functional work at Visual Index. Does looking for one or the other change how people approach buying?

TT: I feel like functional artwork is the gateway drug into the arts. With functional art you're breaking the rules: you can touch it. That's the number one thing you're told not to do with art—don't get close, don't touch. But with functional work, you're given the freedom and permission to be choosy, to hold the mug.

Once you’ve had the opportunity to enjoy having functional art in your life, it's easier to see the joy that other art can bring. Functional work can also start at a different price point, or be more attainable in little nuggets. People who aren't saving up long term can spend $50 now, get a plate, get a bowl, and slowly add to their collection.

And it's fun! I want you to have 50 different plates, all sorts of different mugs. How are you feeling today? Add character. Be eclectic.

AS: Do you collect differently for your home than you curate for Visual Index?

TT: Mostly no, though there may be things I wouldn't necessarily purchase for myself but can see that my clients enjoy them. I think it's most important that I have offerings that bring joy and are of the quality I want to carry.

AS: How would you describe your taste, and how has it changed over time?

TT: It's definitely broadening. North Carolina has such a wide breadth of fine craft. Growing up farther south, in Pensacola, Florida, I wasn't as educated in fine craft or outsider art, even though it was around me. Now I find those to be so cool; when you discover outsider art or find a rugged piece of functional ware, it opens you up to other things.

I've also unintentionally become an avid collector of secondhand furniture and vintage pieces—in the beginning out of necessity, but always through an interest in shape and form. Even though I'm not in the interior design business, I can still appreciate a nice, weird rug. So that's where things are coming into my home that I'm not necessarily carrying at the gallery, but I'm taking interest in those things, and those are informing my decision of what I bring in next.

AS: If someone walked into your home, what would they learn about you from what's hanging on the walls?

TT: I think it would be very obvious that art is very important to me. I was talking to Robert about this because sometimes I worry it can be intimidating. But in my mind, art isn't indicative of status, it's indicative of passion.

When I've invited groups of people over, especially younger people who are just starting out [collecting], they're like, "Holy shit. Whoa. Next level." And I'm like, okay, well, yes, but this is representative of years of accumulating and it’s my job—I've been given opportunities that not a lot of people get every day.

One of my best childhood friends—her great uncle was a painter, and I would go over to her house every week. Their mid-century home had giant ceilings, with big paintings everywhere. It was a big inspiration.

AS: You have a five-year-old daughter. How do you navigate living with all this art with a young child?

TT: Children learn through you, right and wrong. Part of that upbringing is using vocabulary they can understand. I [teach her to respect the art] by saying things she can relate to like, "Isn't it important when you've brought drawings home to Mommy? How would you feel if somebody tore them in half or crumbled them into a ball?"

I rarely have issues with my daughter messing with our art. It's helpful to work on body awareness. When she was very young there were a couple pieces I took down because she was so little and wanted to touch them.

Kids are, rightfully, very self-absorbed creatures. You can tap into that and say, "Somebody made this with their hands. Do you see this painting? Do you see these colors, these shapes, these forms, these lines?" You're starting that visual vocabulary early for them, which I think also helps with emotional vocabulary. Then you can turn it into a project—"Let's go paint"—and they feel a connection.

AS: Have you noticed ways having good art in your home has benefited your daughter?

TT: Yes. I make sure her room is filled with artwork. I've made sure that from a very early age, she's had really whimsical, story-like pieces. Some Caroline Paul works, for example, are in there that are very loose and fun and full of movement. There are also works by Lauren deSerres—very whimsical foxes on boats with clouds, pictures of where every kid wants to be, off on an adventure—and Don Green, an Iris pastel.

We’ve also got a very large abstract piece in her room too, by Renee Vasquez, which is great since my daughter is so into shapes right now and how colors are mixed. We can look at it and discuss, "Oh, look how this tissue paper lays over that color. What color is that making?" I think it's actually quite easy to have a child around artwork because you're already teaching all these lessons anyway—let's use our gentle hands, let's think about where our body is. It doesn't have to be harsh. It's just like, "Oh goodness, our hands got so close to that. We don't touch that. Somebody made that, and it's special."

Think of it this way—you wouldn't refrain from buying a vehicle just because someone may door ding you, right? I'll admit, at the end of the day, if something gets damaged—it sucks. It's a possible reality that has to be faced no matter where art lives—in an artist's studio, at a museum, an art gallery, or for me, a family residence. Personally, it's worth the risk to live with the joy that art brings my family and me.

AS: Do you move things around or swap them out?

TT: Yes, however, there are a few pieces in this house I am unable to relocate because of their size. Our largest works are by my dear friend Don Green, such as the pair of 9ft hand-faceted sculptural columns, and the 4' x 6' painting he created for his 2019 retrospective at Artworks Gallery—it’s hanging in the only place it could possibly fit, so that is where it will stay.

But yes, and I really love to move furniture around. I'm a homebody, so I like being home and putzing and dilly-dallying, and that's what happens. I'll get a wild hair.

Generally, I'm very purposeful with the way I buy artwork for myself. I know the person and want a piece of their artwork, and I've been watching them for a while. So it may move rooms, but I don't filter items out of the collection very often.

AS: What does art do in one’s home that other beautiful objects don't?

TT: I think art is a piece of someone's soul, and when you have that in your home, you're sharing that energy. It's a constant reminder of something beautiful, something intentional, something made with care. There's a story embedded in it—the artist's hand, their choices, their vision. That presence changes a space in a way nothing else can.

Toni Tronu opened Visual Index in 2017, but her path to running a gallery started long before that. 

Growing up in Pensacola, Florida, she was surrounded by small business owners—her mother ran a bookstore that had been open for 53 years, her father a tile and granite shop passed down through generations. Toni started making art at a young age with a close family friend, an artist and Montessori teacher who lived four doors down, and was encouraged by a high school teacher to pursue it seriously. She studied photography and fine art at Pensacola Junior College before moving to North Carolina with her now-husband Robert to play music and figure out what came next.

What came next was a degree in photography from UNCG (University of North Carolina at Greensboro), followed by three and a half years at GreenHill Center for North Carolina Art, where she wore every hat imaginable—shop manager, registrar, photographer, curator. Toni learned how to run a gallery from the ground up, and when she stumbled upon a closing gallery space in Winston-Salem during a studio visit, she knew it was time. Toni took over the lease, launched Visual Index, and moved to Winston-Salem and into the home she and Robert live in today.