Art
Less snobbery, more opportunism •
More luxury, fewer works of art. Collecting amongst the younger generations
From the works of Brancusi to those of Kandinsky, paintings that have been kept out of public view for decades are suddenly becoming available again. It is one of the most interesting signs of a possible paradigm shift in art collecting, which seems to say: ‘Enough with modernism, let’s look to the future’. And the auction houses are adapting accordingly.

Kandinsky’s ‘White Zig Zag’ (Google Creative Commons)
For the past few months, masterpieces have been appearing on the art market that seemed destined to remain hidden forever in private collections. In May, Brancusi’s Danaïde, formerly owned by S. I. Newhouse, was sold by Christie’s for $107 million; in October, a Kandinsky from 1907 sold for around $42 million. On 18 November, Sotheby’s will present twelve works from the Blaquier collection, including a Van Gogh and a Cézanne, with a combined estimate of close to 450 million, as well as works by Modigliani, Mondrian, Picasso and Miró. Paintings that have been kept out of the public eye for decades are suddenly becoming available again. It is one of the most interesting signs of a possible paradigm shift in collecting, which seems to say, ‘Enough with modernism, let’s look to the future’.
A generation of Americans who built up extraordinary collections is making way for their heirs. Inheriting a legacy does not mean inheriting their passions – quite the contrary. According to the Bank of America-ArtTactic report published last March, in 2025 the United States accounted for 69 per cent of the value of auction sales (at Christie’s, Sotheby’s and Phillips) and 78 per cent of global auctions of works valued at over 10 million dollars. The reasons for these sales are manifold, ranging from inheritance to wealth management decisions, but it remains a cultural issue. What represented the ultimate object of desire for one generation is no longer so for the next, for whom a work of art is perceived in the same way as a luxury item, downplaying its cultural value in favour of what it represents. Just like an LV handbag.
This shift is evident in the growing variety of collectables. Watches, cars, rare handbags, design pieces, trainers, dinosaurs, wine, cars and memorabilia now compete for the attention and resources of a clientele that no longer necessarily regards works of art as holding a privileged position. The major auction houses have recognised this transformation and adapted their business models accordingly. In 2025, Sotheby’s sold luxury goods worth $2.7 billion, accounting for almost 40 per cent of total sales, whilst 38 per cent of Christie’s new clients came from categories other than art. This does not mean that young people have lost interest in art, nor that traditional collecting is destined to disappear. Recent auctions in London and Paris, with sell-out rates exceeding 90 per cent and significant results for Monet and other 20th-century masters, demonstrate the vitality of demand for historic works. If anything, the market is learning to coexist with different forms of collecting, each with its own codes, languages and criteria for value.
For auction houses, this transformation presents an intriguing paradox that conceals an extraordinary opportunity: despite the luxury sector being in decline, sales of luxury items at auction are booming. Perhaps the most significant statistic is that, in 2025, 38 per cent of Christie’s new buyers entered the auction house via a luxury category rather than through art. Luxury thus becomes a gateway to collecting, and auction houses demonstrate an extraordinary adaptability, capable of guiding the same client from a watch to a work of art, from a car to a piece of jewellery, from a public auction to a private sale; Christie’s is even launching a division dedicated to pop culture to attract buyers from Generation Y and Generation Z. Less snobbery, more opportunism. It is precisely this flexibility that galleries lack, as they are bound by a far more rigid economic structure involving artists to support over the long term, exhibitions to organise, spaces to maintain and art fairs to attend – often even before a sale has taken place.
The paradox, therefore, is that the crisis in the art gallery sector is unfolding whilst other forms of art dealing are thriving. Perhaps we are witnessing not merely a decline in demand but a redistribution of the capacity to capture it. The problem is not simply that people are buying less; rather, it is a question of understanding where, how and through whom purchases are made. The identity of the buyer now matters more than ever, even more so than the category of the object being purchased.