09-08-2025
Portrait of an Accidental Art Collector
(Bloomberg Opinion) -- I once entered the Manhattan apartment of a cantankerous, retired investment banker and almost walked into his Willem de Kooning. That would have been extremely unfortunate. I don't know what he paid for that human-height painting, but one piece by the Dutch-American artist (who died in 1997) was purchased for a reported $300 million(1) in 2015, a couple of years after my near run-in. The ex-financier showcased his lavish art collection — including, if memory serves, another de Kooning — in a sprawling apartment, which was oddly dim because of sallow lighting. All that hoard did not glitter.
I don't aspire to the life of an art collector — and certainly not one dealing with altitudinous sums of money. I like art, but I'm just a dabbler popping in and out of museums and galleries to admire and attempt to keep current. I wish I could be artsy for art's sake, but the whirl — and lingo — can be bewildering. I've only just become aware that a huge and expensive mania for a generation of younger artists has come and gone. That speculative period is now called 'zombie formalism' because the paintings evoked the style of deceased modern masters without incremental inspiration. I'm fascinated but afraid to bring up the zombie apocalypse. It's so last decade.
Recently, there's been a patter on the sidelines of my news feed about galleries closing. Being the uncle of a couple of art school grads, I figured that isn't a good thing. How would they get their works into the world if the gallery system collapsed? Who'd introduce them to appreciative buyers and help them navigate the treacherous business? How would the world know they'd 'arrived' if there weren't prestigious showrooms to bestow that glory?
Still, it didn't strike me as particularly surprising that the industry was in a bad way. The market has crashed a number of times this century; most recently, after the financial meltdown and during the pandemic. According to the latest Art Basel & UBS Art Market Report, sales plummeted by 12% last year to $57.5 billion. The high end — involving objects at seven figures and up — was particularly badly hit. Are discounted de Koonings now a thing?
All that said, I've wandered back into the art world. In my perpetual pursuit of good food, I was at Rene Redzepi's Noma in Copenhagen in May and I was captivated by the lively paintings at the restaurant entrance. The same style was echoed in ceramic pieces within. As it turned out, I'd met the artist Jenny Sharaf at the wedding of mutual friends in Mexico City, but I'd never seen her work before. Sharaf was born in Los Angeles and lives in San Francisco, but — like me — she loves the Danish capital and was there for an extended stint, long enough to paint several panels. I loved them for the color and energy and how kaleidoscopic they could be — the image shifting with the angle at which you approached it. And, better yet, I could afford them.
However, more numbers were involved and they threw me. Calculating the costs of shipping the one I liked most to London plus insurance and the confusion over post-Brexit tariffs put me off sealing the deal. With US tariffs (and potential counter-tariffs) in the air, I didn't want to consider the alternative: sending any of her paintings over from America. It's a problem for the arts and antiques establishment as well: The arithmetic is antithetical to sales strategies and bottom lines. Who knows what those big beautiful duties might do?
As the UBS report notes: 'Economic nationalism chips away at the foundations of economic growth. Tariffs worsen inflation and can threaten job security. Restrictions on capital flows can limit investment and may hit higher-income groups, which are more global in their behavior, disproportionately.'
So I suggested to the artist, if you get a chance to come to London, why don't you create a painting for me using my apartment as a studio? In late July she did just that. It dovetailed, she said, with the way she was approaching her career, dealing directly with customers. 'Artists shouldn't hold back from forming relationships with collaborators and collectors.' She has several patrons, but she'd never painted for them in their own homes before.
For me, the process has been exhilarating. We discussed the artists influencing her direction on the project. As a hopeless dilettante, I appreciate being able to point to my art and name-drop Cy Twombly, Joan Mitchell, Lee Ufan, Hans Hoffman, Philip Guston, Ad Reinhardt and Gunter Forg. After helping shop for supplies, I set her up in my flat so she could create directly in the space where the art would reside. We figured out which wall in my apartment would potentially be the best for display. As she progressed, she gauged my reaction to what was on the canvas. 'I like the drippy bits,' I said. And, lo, more drippy bits appeared.
I won't quite say I was Pope Julius and Sharaf was Michelangelo — she didn't paint my ceiling — but I love what she produced after three sessions. In fact, I now have two Sharafs because her inspiration overflowed into a smaller piece.
My London flat now has metaphysical super-dimensions — intimations of Denmark and California with a resident-patron's smiling presence in the beautiful blobs of paint. It's art for my sake. And it's fun. As the UBS report says: 'The trend in consumer spending has recently skewed away from goods toward having fun.' Maybe fun is just what an art world in the doldrums needs.
And if you visit, you don't have to worry about barging into them. They're safely away from the front door.
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(1) De Kooning originally sold the painting for $4,000 in 1955. It may sound like a steal but, after 70 years of inflation, that's more than $47,000 today.
This column reflects the personal views of the author and does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.
Howard Chua-Eoan is a columnist for Bloomberg Opinion covering culture and business. He previously served as Bloomberg Opinion's international editor and is a former news director at Time magazine.
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