Why the Art World as We Know It Is Dying
- Jenny Munoz
- 22 hours ago
- 4 min read
A system built on prestige, unpaid labor, and illusion is finally collapsing.
For the better part of the 20th and early 21st centuries, the contemporary art world operated like a well-oiled machine—albeit one that ran on a mix of mystique, money, and myth. The white cube was sacred. The dealer was a gatekeeper. The art fair was a pilgrimage site. And the artist, if lucky, was granted a spot in this labyrinthine system in exchange for submission to its rules.
But something has shifted. And it's not subtle. The architecture of the art world is no longer creaking—it's collapsing.
In 2024, Marlborough Gallery—one of the most established blue-chip galleries in the world—announced it was shuttering all of its locations after nearly 80 years in business. Blum & Poe, the influential Los Angeles gallery now operating as Blum, will shut down its Los Angeles and Tokyo spaces following its summer programming. The gallery has also canceled its planned New York expansion and announced it will no longer maintain a traditional roster of artists. Instead, it's pivoting to a "more flexible model," one not bound by a permanent gallery space or outdated expectations.
The data backs it up: according to The Art Basel & UBS Art Market Report 2025, contemporary art dealers experienced an 11% decline in sales last year, with a staggering 56% of those sales concentrated among just three artists per gallery. Sales are shrinking, costs are rising, and public interest is fragmenting. Even auction houses saw their combined public and private sales drop by 20% in 2024.
As dealer Tim Blum recently told Artnet News, "It's not working. And it hasn't been working—even when it looked like it was."
This isn't just a moment of transition—it's a reckoning. And it's long overdue.
The commercial gallery model has become untenable for most. Rent in cultural capitals like London, New York, and Los Angeles is astronomical. Payroll, utilities, marketing, and programming costs far exceed returns, especially when foot traffic is largely limited to opening nights and existing collectors. Galleries are businesses, and when a business consistently runs at a loss, the conclusion is simple: the model is broken.
Yet the emotional toll is just as corrosive as the financial one. What began as a love for art—for meaning, conversation, beauty—has been consumed by a relentlessly transactional culture. Artists often become resentful of galleries for not selling enough of their work. Galleries stress over keeping the lights on. Collectors seek to circumvent dealers to negotiate directly with artists, often after discovering them at gallery shows. The relationships once built on trust, shared vision, and mutual investment are now reduced to cold calculations and side deals.
Everyone is exhausted. Everyone feels used. And no one's really talking about art anymore.
Meanwhile, art fairs—the supposed crown jewels of the industry—are ballooning out of control. There are too many, and they are too costly. They feed off FOMO, pressuring everyone in the ecosystem to show up, regardless of interest or sustainability. For galleries, fairs are a massive financial drain. For the environment, the jet-fueled shipping of crates and people around the globe is catastrophic. And for most visitors, the experience is less about contemplation and more about commerce.
Ironically, amid this decline, artists are gaining power—and that's where the rebirth lies.
For the first time in history, artists have the tools to bypass the traditional system entirely. Social media has democratized visibility. Online platforms allow for direct sales. Artists can now build their audiences, retain 100% of their profits, and shape their careers with agency. Those who learn to self-promote, articulate their ideas, and understand pricing and marketing are thriving—without the need for gallery representation.
What we're seeing is the quiet rise of a decentralized, artist-led art world. One that values intimacy, flexibility, and authenticity over scale and spectacle.
The white cube will not shape the future—it will be shaped by those who think beyond it.
Instead of maintaining year-round gallery spaces, I predict more dealers will move toward itinerant, invitation-only exhibitions. They are going to create immersive, private experiences where collectors are treated as participants, not just consumers. They're going to work with artists on a project basis rather than locking them into long-term, extractive contracts. This model reduces overhead, centers meaning, and allows for deeper, more focused engagement with both artists and collectors.
The old system—propped up by unpaid internships, low wages, and an illusion of prestige—is being exposed for what it is: a burnout machine that benefits a shrinking few. According to The Art Basel & UBS Art Market Report 2025, 43% of art businesses were less profitable in 2024, up from 32% in 2023. This isn't a temporary downturn. It's structural decay.
And yet, this unraveling is also an opportunity.
We are entering a new era—one that is post-gallery, post-hierarchy, and potentially post-bullshit. It's not about tearing down the art world entirely. It's about reimagining it. One where artists lead with clarity and confidence. Where curators and dealers collaborate with agility and care. Where collectors support art not out of speculation, but out of love.
This isn't the end. It's a beginning.
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Thank you for being part of this journey!
xx Jenny
